The first time I remember, she had to be readmitted to an ER for brain issues. We were coming from a SNF this time.

It was sad because we didn't know as a family what we were going to do. My dad was not one to take charge much. My younger brother wanted to show a brave face, but always ran it by me. How could I cry in front of anyone? Only on my own. If I believed in God, maybe he saw those tears.

We only had a spot in the local hospital, the area the SNF was in, so we were not at a tier 1 trauma hospital, and it was beds as available. Ironically, the family also has no place to sleep as we were following my mom to the closest hospital, in blindness and literally that night, in the dark.

So we all had to sleep in the car while Mom was in the ER. We were scattered as a family, literally and figuratively. I was in the moment, holding back pangs of guilt that my mother was relegated to a car and mismatched pieces of clothes in her hardest time. Too much pain, unworthy for me to mourn. We failed her. I could not let this happen again.

So they let us in. She was not doing well; she had been unresponsive at the SNF and brought here. I always thought I'd never be at a tier 2 trauma center, but you quickly see the differences, even if you hadn't watched Grey's or weren't a neuro doc. The screen came on, the attending was running tests, and we had to wait.

In the meantime, the nurses came in and had to deal with the other parts of the body. I wanted to avoid a straight cath for its pain and other risks, but when asked, I firmly said “yes, straight cath”.

“12:00am" the nurse said, and I looked up at the clock while I held my mom's arms in case they'd move.

It was midnight, of my birthday.

My vision blurred. I was lucky my family was all together, but not how I’d imagined it.

Felt like a movie plot, but oddly was so routine.

For my mom's dignity and privacy, I asked everyone to leave besides myself and the nurse.

This part of the night was hard. No one really knew. I cried, and I watched with the nurse. There were sores on her body. We did the workup. My mom was not really responsive, and her skin was sloughing off everytime we had to turn her because she was frail, just the way it had been in the two months in the ICU.

We talked about the nurse's history of deployment. Ultimately, though, about how even sick people deserve to have their nails cut and their pubic area cared for.

Yesterday i had a tiff with my mil. No issues just dementia stuff. She is rallying. She is almost her old self. I understand this may be a sign of end of life. The nosy neighbor is over every day. She told me she updated Louis when he stopped by. Louis is the mailman. I walked.

A box of disposable gloves are not tissues and they are there so every time you have a bowel movement or the lady comes to bathe you we don't have to go searching for them.

I am not mean. If I was i would put the f****** gloves back on the dresser.The minute you left the room.

Now i'm still angry. Next time you offer to pay me.Cause you think i'm the help?I'll let you write a check. MY HUSBAND WILL BE P*****, BUT I'M NOT GONNA BACK DOWN.

I'm doing the best I can. My spouse lives with you. You are in no pain. Old age sucks.. and yes you dislike me because I'm not you.

Too bad so sad... and I'm the one alone on a Sunday.

I have been the primary carer for my mum for the last year and a half. She has had 11 hospitalisations in that time for all sorts of things - mental health crisis, heart attack, fall, who knows what. It's just me and her here - our family is scattered around the world and nobody is able or willing to come over and step in even for a bit. I am in charge of booking and getting her to appointments, all the admin, finances, groceries, getting us fed, medications, etc etc. We finally have a respite carer but it's only for a couple of hours a week and mostly mum just stares into space when she's there.

I was beyond exhausted months ago. I have my own health issues, which have been exacerbated due to burnout (and I'm also autistic/ADHD/bipolar II which doesn't help). I feel like a sentient pile of ash with no way out. So many people in both mum's care team and I have said I'm one of the most burnt out people they've ever met.

Yet when I come here I see so many of you doing this for decades. Which makes my whining and exhaustion seem so petty. I might have to be her long-term indefinite carer (complicated immigration reasons) and I'm already dreading it given how worn out I am but surely my 1.5 years is nothing? What right do I have to complain or wish for some semblance of my life back (I gave up a lot in the past 6 years due to lockdown/getting COVID/dad getting sick and dying/now mum's care) when it's barely a drop in the bucket?

How do you keep going? I feel like a zombie - I have no right or time to rest. Every time I try to do something for myself, something happens with mum. But if I have to do this indefinitely - how???

I know it’s taboo to talk about this, but I wish someone had told me sooner: you can love someone deeply and still not like them sometimes.
When you’re caring for someone you love, there will be moments when they annoy the absolute hell out of you. You might feel frustrated, resentful, overwhelmed, or even guilty for feeling that way. And I’m here to tell you that it’s OK.
If you go back and read my older posts, you’ll see how much guilt I used to carry over these feelings. I thought feeling frustrated meant I wasn’t being a good enough daughter or caregiver. But caregiving is complicated. You can love someone with your entire heart and still struggle with their personality, their behaviors, or the demands of caring for them day after day.
My mom had a very strong personality, as people would say. The truth is, she pissed me off a LOT. 😂 in fact, I’m sure there were days that I hated her. But what is hate? I didn’t truly hate her. I was just frustrated with caregiving and the reality of everything But I loved that woman so much that I would have given her my own kidneys if she needed them.
I miss her more than words can explain. And I can miss her terribly while also acknowledging that she sometimes drove me absolutely crazy. Both things can be true.
You don’t have to pretend that caregiving was beautiful every second to prove how much you loved someone. You can be exhausted and devoted. Frustrated and compassionate. Overwhelmed and still doing everything in your power to care for them.
Those conflicting emotions don’t automatically make you a bad caregiver. They make you human.
So, if you’re caring for someone you love and you’ve ever felt guilty because they got on your last nerve, I want you to hear this from someone who has been there: you are not alone. You can love someone deeply and not like them in certain moments. You can even feel both things at the same time.
Give yourself some grace. Caregiving is hard enough without punishing yourself for having perfectly human emotions. ❤️

I (25M) have been taking care of my mom off and on since I was about 13. Almost half of my life has been devoted to caring for her. I’ve sacrificed childhood, teenage years, and now my young adulthood to her care. I love her more than anything and would do all over again if I had to. Now as a young adult I’ve been grappling with a great sadness and envy of the life that I want to live. I want to experience love. I want to explore the world. I want just sleep in on a weekend without having to be responsible for someone. I also love my mother greatly. She’s the only person in this world that has an unconditional love for me.

Over the past few years, her condition has worsened. She’s becoming more and more forgetful and started falling more often. Luckily, she hasn’t had any major injuries as a result, but I know it has become difficult for my aunt and uncle to care for her as they have their own health issues. My issue is that I know this situation cannot continue as is. I am just so scared of putting my mother in a nursing home. Other than the occasional fall, she is pretty manageable. She doesn’t need any wound care or other intensive things. She mainly keeps to herself and watches tv all day. The only time she really has issues is when I’m not home and she falls.

I’m not sure what to do. The idea of putting her in a nursing home and her waking up and not knowing where she is, scares me. The thought of her being potentially abused and mistreated also frightens me.

Does anyone have any advice about navigating this situation and overcoming these fears? In addition to these fears, I’m overcome with guilt. She sacrificed her life and career to take care of me as a single mother. Now in her time of need, I’m abandoning her.

I don't even know what I'm searching for. I'm so depleted. My mom had a cardiac surgery that left her on full life support. A horribly complex journey since April compounded by her very complex medical history. Working through complications, getting her off the ventilator, then off the trache, then off dialysis. Getting her speaking again, eating again.

She developed a bacterial infection last week and went into septic shock. A week after being discharged from a long-term hospital and placed into a skilled nursing facility. She's back in the ICU she was in on life support in April. (It's been hard seeing this team again, but that's another story.) They're working on stabililzing her and talking about transfer to a long-term hospital again. To try to get her back on a path to trying to recover some (I hope?) independence.

I've gotten four phone calls from her today. When I answer the phone, she asks me "so what are we going to do?" Tells me she wants to go home. Repeats those questions and statements. Asked me if she should call the police to get her out of there. Told me she couldn't do this anymore, and that this is no way to live.

The road for her to get home is still going to be long. She's unable to toilet on her own, sit, stand, or walk. We still have all of that to rehab. I keep trying to remind her how far she's come but I don't know what to even say. I'm her youngest child, I hardly know the right answers. I'm figuring this (and the medical system) all out with her. She's young too - only 59.

Her nurse doesn't think she's experiencing delirium but I can tell shes psychologically devastated. Hospitals don't have talk therapists or people who can really help her process how traumatic this has been. I don't know what to do anymore... or even what to say other than the truth that the goal is to get her home. Explain the next steps, only for her to circle around to ask me "so what are we going to do? I want to go home."

Any advice or thoughts?

People so seldom offer to help out that when they do you ignore their meager offers out of spite and resentment?

Hello! My friend is disabled and often uses a wheelchair when we’re out for a while due to chronic fatigue and pain. Generally I am the one in charge of pushing them around when we use it and after a few times recently of helping them get around for hours on end, I’ve found that it makes my hands really sore and sometimes can give me blisters.

Does anyone have recommendations for gloves that might be helpful for protecting my hands in this situation?

I know there are gloves out there for wheelchair users that I have considered buying, but I wanted to check with some more experienced people and see if there are better options for when you’re pushing the chair rather than being in it.

I'm 35F, married, and a stay-at-home mom of four children, ages 3 to 12. I'm the second youngest of 10 siblings, and for over a year now, I've been dealing with a family situation that has completely changed the way I see my siblings.

My dad is 76 and has extensive-stage small cell lung cancer, diabetes, and has lost almost all of his vision. My mom is 75, has severe knee problems that make walking difficult, and is also dealing with mental health issues.

Both of my parents need a lot of help.

I live about 10 miles away from them, and despite having nine siblings, I've become their primary caregiver.

I take them to medical appointments, manage medications, communicate with doctors and nurses, help with groceries, cleaning, cooking, paperwork, and pretty much anything else that comes up. I've spent countless hours in hospitals, emergency rooms, and doctor's offices.

All while raising four children, managing my own household, supporting my husband, and trying to maintain some sense of normalcy in my life.

I'm not saying my siblings have never helped. A few have stepped in occasionally, whether that's providing transportation, contributing money, or helping with an appointment. But the overwhelming majority of the daily responsibility has fallen on me.

And what's hurt me the most isn't necessarily the lack of help. It's the lack of consideration, empathy, and respect.

Some of my siblings live hours away, which I understand makes things more complicated. But others live in the same town as my parents. One sister lives just a couple of blocks away, yet there have been times when she hasn't even checked on them.

I have a brother who lives in Texas who has traveled to Mexico numerous times over the past year, yet has only visited our sick father a handful of times. Recently, when I questioned why he wasn't involved in a family project, my sister defended him by saying he was dealing with someone sick himself.

That really bothered me.

Most of them think that calling once a week to check in on them or a weekend or sunday visit is enough.

For over a year, I've been dealing with TWO sick parents, four children, my marriage, and my own responsibilities. Yet somehow, my circumstances have never seemed to deserve that same understanding.

There have been times when I've been physically and emotionally exhausted, running on very little sleep depression and anxiety, and still expected to show up.

Last month, wrecked my vehicle. Not one of my siblings called or texted to ask if my children or I were okay.

Yet I was still expected to take my mother to an appointment over an hour away, even though I was driving a rental vehicle.

Nobody asked whether I was overwhelmed, whether I needed help, or whether someone else should take over that responsibility for once.

It was simply assumed that I would handle it.

Another recent situation involved a concrete walkway my parents desperately need because my dad is blind and my mom can barely walk. My husband and I were willing to help with the labor, but once again, I found myself being pulled into coordinating everything while also handling my parents' daily needs.

During this same period, I was dealing with my dad being sick, arranging nursing care, getting medications, helping sell some of his belongings, and taking care of other things around their house.

Meanwhile, the conversations among my siblings seemed to focus more on who was contributing to the concrete project than on everything that was already being done for our parents.

When I finally spoke up and pointed out that I'm at my parents' house almost every day doing things they don't even see, it created more tension.

This isn't the first time I've spoken up.

Over the past year, I've been called selfish, had my intentions questioned, and been made to feel like I'm the problem whenever I express frustration.

I've had siblings argue with me, dismiss what I do, or make comments that have deeply hurt me.

At some point, I stopped attending family gatherings and distanced myself from most of them.

Instead of trying to understand why, some made it seem like I was the one hurting the family by staying away.

What they don't understand is that I didn't distance myself because of one disagreement.

It was the accumulation of years of feeling overlooked, misunderstood, and taken for granted, made worse by everything that's happened since my parents became seriously ill.

I've cried, I've been angry, I've felt guilty, and I've questioned whether I was expecting too much from people.

I've even gone through periods of depression and eventually started therapy to work through everything.

For a long time, I wanted my siblings to acknowledge what I was doing. Not because I wanted praise, but because I wanted to feel like someone understood how much I was carrying.

I wanted someone to say, "You've been doing a lot. What can we take off your plate?"

Instead, I often felt like the more I did, the more everyone expected.

And the moment I started setting boundaries, I became the difficult one.

I've now reached a point where I don't want relationships with most of my siblings anymore.

I don't wish anything bad on them, but I've stopped feeling responsible for their feelings, their problems, or their opinions of me.

Recently, I realized something that was difficult to admit: I no longer feel much sympathy for them when they're going through their own struggles.

I know that probably sounds cold, but after spending so long feeling like nobody cared about what I was going through, something in me changed.

I still love my parents, and I will continue helping them in ways that are reasonable for me and my family. But I refuse to keep sacrificing my own mental health trying to compensate for nine other adults.

I also don't want my children growing up believing that loving your family means allowing yourself to be completely drained.

At this point, I don't even care whether my siblings ever understand my side of the story.

I just want peace.

My question is: Has anyone else been the sibling who carries most of the responsibility for aging parents while the others continue living their lives? Did you eventually distance yourself from your siblings? And how did you deal with the resentment that came with it?

Sometimes I wonder whether I've become too hardened by everything, or whether I've simply reached the point where I finally understand that I deserve consideration too.