Taking a break doesn't mean giving up

I used to think that stepping away, even for a moment, meant I was letting Mum down. That if I really loved her — if I was strong enough, patient enough, devoted enough — I wouldn’t need a break.

But Alzheimer's doesn’t just change the person you love. It changes you, too. Somewhere between the endless cups of tea, the repeated questions, and the sleepless nights, I began to disappear a little.

The Guilt That Follows You Everywhere

The first time I took a full afternoon off, I cried. Mum was with her carer — someone kind, capable, and trained — and still, I couldn’t shake the guilt. I sat there in my 'free time', feeling like a terrible daughter.

But when I came home, something surprising happened. Mum smiled. Properly smiled. She didn’t seem anxious or upset. She was fine. And I realised… the world hadn’t fallen apart without me.

It made me wonder — who was I really punishing by never stopping? Mum? Or myself?

Rest Isn’t Weakness

Caregiving is love in action. But love also needs energy. It needs rest. Without it, we burn out — and when that happens, no one wins.

I used to think “breaks” were for people who couldn’t handle it. Now I know they’re for people who can’t afford not to.

Even small things help:

• Sitting in the garden with a cup of tea, phone off.

• Listening to music that reminds me of who I am.

• Asking my brother to pop in so I can go out.

  
  

Those moments don’t make me less of a carer. They make me a better one.

Mum Deserves My Best — Not What’s Left

Alzheimer's has taken so much from Mum already. I don’t want it to take me too. When I rest, when I breathe, when I allow myself to recharge — I can meet her with patience, gentleness, and love.

I care for her — not out of duty, but out of love.

Love isn’t about never needing a break. It’s about finding the strength to keep showing up — day after day — with an open heart.

So if you’re reading this and you feel like you’re failing because you need time for yourself, please hear me: You are not giving up. You are holding on — wisely, bravely, and with love.