This is me...a personal bio of a carer

I'm a 39-year-old woman. My Dad passed away from heart failure when I was 26, and my Mum was diagnosed with Alzheimer's just as I turned 34. What a life, right?

I have two older Brothers, one living in the UK and the other abroad.

My family in general is not very big. I have no children and never married.

I'm a huge animal lover, I used to work as a Receptionist/PA. I lived an active social life and loved spending time with my friends. I was happy and content.

During the peak of caring for my Mum, I faced numerous changes in my own life, almost, losing my voice, completely. I struggled to form sentences, couldn't find the right words, and nearly felt mute. I was severely stressed, not to mention my bp was through the roof. I was concerned because the last thing I needed was to fall ill myself.

My mental health suffered due to the rapid and significant changes in my life. I heavily relied on my immediate neighbours for support, and sometimes found myself drinking a bit too much, a habit I didn't want to depend on. I also experienced severe brain fog, woke up with racing heart palpitations, and endured night sweats.

I worried about what would happen to Mum if something happened to me. I secured LPAs (Lasting Power Of Attorney) during the height of the Covid pandemic, and because of the restrictions at that time, there was no one else available!

My social life began to dwindle and I became more and more isolated, not hearing from my friends quite as frequently as I used to. The invites became less and less, and the life I once knew faded into the background.

I was made redundant from my job. I was so unhappy and felt very lonely. Navigating the NHS was a daunting task, as I attempted to manage it on my own, with no guidance and no idea where to start! But I had to begin somewhere, I needed help, fast!.

I found it very challenging, constantly encountering obstacles, being passed around, and receiving excuses from the few people I managed to speak with. Honestly, this heavily discouraged me from delving further into it. Sometimes I feel this was somehow intentional, making it difficult for carers to access help.

I talked to myself so much that I couldn't remember if it was in my head or spoken aloud, which increased my anxiety. 'What have I said and to who?' and 'What have I said?!? Have I said too much?' I felt I was exploiting Mum's personal struggles. I felt like a bad Daughter.

Mum always raised me to talk, and not keep things to myself if I was struggling. However, this felt different; it was too personal and very raw. I knew she never wanted her diagnosis shared, but ultimately, it was too hard to hide. To ensure her safety and understanding in the community, I had to speak out. I struggled to trust the people I did speak to, not all of them were listening because they cared, but rather to find things to gossip about.

My Mum is my best friend in the whole world, my confidant, and the only person I truly trusted. She was consistent and supportive, and never judged me for the mistakes I made growing up. Losing the woman I once knew is incredibly hard to cope with. I found I was turning into the Mum of my household and was depended on by everyone, to be the fixer, the one everyone came to, and to generally hold sh1t together! the pressure is unreal, who was there to look after me?.