THE CAREGIVER SQUEEZE
I’m bent over the tiny table in my grandmother’s small assisted living apartment, hungrily slurping pho noodles, when I inhale something unsavory. I look up at my son who has just come through the sliding glass door and taken several steps into the apartment. He’s the source of the stink. My little guy has tracked dog poop all over the carpet, even managing to step on my white sneakers resting by the door. I put down my chopsticks and stop him in his tracks. Chaos ensues. Grandma is upset at the mess, there’s nothing proper to clean it with, my daughter begins arguing with her brother who is now mercifully barefoot over a toy. I abandon my lunch, ineptly cleaning the carpet with water and paper towels as I take in grandma’s directions and complaints. What is that lunch you’re eating? Why don’t they pick up after their dogs here? How are we going to get that out of the rug?!
A bit dramatic, but fairly representative of my weekly experiences since taking over primary care of my grandmother several years ago. I regularly find myself juggling the three of them- son, daughter and grandmother, in highly chaotic situations. A vaccination appointment, a lunch out, a dollar store shopping trip. With limited time and abundant responsibilities, I combine our various outings and “white knuckle” it trying to keep everyone happy. I return home in a cold sweat, adrenaline spent from arm wrestling hyper kids, shopping carts and walkers. I’ve started calling it the Caregiver Squeeze.
I know that I’m not alone in feeling this squeeze. So many of us are responsible for the care of multiple generations, balancing the competing and often conflicting needs of our loved ones. Many times it’s the care of an aging parent and growing children. Often times it’s the women in the family, particularly the oldest daughter or in my case oldest granddaughter, that these commitments fall to. With these commitments come the befuddling dynamics of role reversals- caring for people who are used to caring for you. I’m in charge but yet don’t really feel in charge. My kids run amok and vie for my attention as I stumble my way through grandma’s care.
It's easy to lose myself in these dynamics. What about my needs? I’m starving, I need a restroom, I need a moment of quiet in all this bedlam. It can feel like too much. As much as I give there’s always more to do. It can feel thankless. Sometimes she’s in pain and gets short with me. Is she happy? Am I really doing what’s best for her? Sometimes I question why I made this choice.
I called my grandmother today as I drove to the airport, checking on her before I head out of town. She hasn’t been well lately. Before I get off the phone, she pauses and then says that she’s proud of me, and so glad that I’m her granddaughter. I swallow a lump in my throat and tell her that I love her. In a way, I’m proud of me too. I’ve done the hard thing and stuck by my commitments, even when it’s tough. I’ve managed through the squeeze moments and I know that I can keep going.
Here's what I’ve learned in managing the caregiving squeeze:
Don’t say yes if you don’t mean it. After many resentful days, I’ve learned to carefully safeguard the “yes.” Giving it out when I don’t feel like it’s reasonable or doable only brings bad feelings in both me and those I take care of. It’s better to say “no” clearly than doing it subversively by executing a resentful “yes.”
Boundary setting probably won’t feel great, but do it anyway. I don’t know why I’ve always thought that setting healthy boundaries should feel empowering. Mostly it just feels crummy to set boundaries because it means I’m letting someone down. I’ve learned to sit with the crummy and just be ok with it. Still waiting to for it to feel empowering.
·When you need a break, take a break. This one can be hard to execute because it can come with guilt, which isn’t much better than resentment. Taking a break means that I can come back with an open heart and things will go more smoothly. I try to listen to that voice that says I need space and honor it by ditching the guilt that tries to accompany it.
Fill your own cup. I know that if I’m going to give this much, I need to take too. I have to be clear about my own needs and make sure they’re being met. When I don’t do this, I head right back to resentment. These can be simple things like making sure I eat well, get some exercise, or schedule time with friends.
Most of us take care of someone in our lives, whether it’s a child, partner, parent, grandparent or fur baby. There’s beauty in caring for others. It can be very emotionally rewarding and intimate. There’s also an edge to caregiving, one that we walk carefully along and try not to fall over. Coaching can help with walking that line and balancing the squeeze of responsibilities in our lives. Reach out for an exploratory session.
