When I first stepped into the role of caring for my mum, I thought love and determination would be enough to get me through. What I didn’t realise was that caregiving isn’t just about practical help — it’s about carrying the emotional, physical, and even financial weight of another person’s daily life.
Some days, it feels like a privilege. Others, it feels like I’m running on fumes. And I’ve learned that it’s okay to admit both truths.
The Emotional Strain
There’s a grief in watching someone you love decline, even while they’re still here. Sometimes it’s subtle — forgetting small details, moving a little slower. Other times it’s jarring — confusion, frustration, or moments when the person you know feels far away.
I’ve felt guilt for losing patience, resentment when my life feels on hold, and a deep loneliness that’s hard to explain to anyone not living it. According to Carers UK, half of carers feel lonely, and nearly as many struggle with depression. I can believe it.
The Physical Demands
Helping Mum bathe, dressing her, lifting her from bed to chair — these tasks take a toll. My back aches more than I care to admit. My sleep is patchy. And because I’m so focused on her needs, I often neglect my own. Over time, I’ve learned the hard way that I can’t be much help to her if I’m running myself into the ground.
The Financial Strain
Care doesn’t just cost time — it costs money. Between specialist equipment, home adaptations, medications, and transport to appointments, the bills add up. I cut my work hours to be home more, which means less income and fewer savings. Research shows carers are more likely to live in poverty, and sadly, that doesn’t surprise me.
What’s Helped Me Keep Going
1. Seeking Support
Leaning on family, friends, and support groups has been essential. I’ve joined online communities through Carers UK and Age UK where I can share, vent, and learn from others who understand.
2. Respite Care
The first time I used respite care, I felt guilty — like I was abandoning her. But stepping back, even for a few hours, helped me come back calmer, more present, and better able to care for her.
3. Professional Help
Talking to a counsellor gave me permission to acknowledge my stress without shame. Social workers and healthcare professionals have helped me navigate systems I didn’t even know existed.
4. Self-Care Without Apology
For me, it’s short walks, reading for 20 minutes before bed, and making sure I eat something decent during the day. They’re small acts, but they add up.
5. Boundaries and Balance
I’ve learned that saying “I can’t do that right now” isn’t failing — it’s preserving my ability to keep caring long-term.
The Reality and the Reward
This journey is exhausting, yes, but it’s also full of moments that remind me why I do it — like the way Mum’s face lights up when I cook her favourite meal, or how she squeezes my hand on hard days.
I’ve come to see caregiving as both one of the toughest and most meaningful roles I’ll ever have.
How My Virtual Carer Helps Me Manage the Load
Keeping track of Mum’s appointments, medication, care routines, and my own wellbeing was once a chaotic mix of notes, alarms, and memory. The My Virtual Carer app changed that.
With it, I can:
- Store her medical history and care preferences so every helper knows exactly what to do
- Set reminders for medication times, doctor’s visits, and personal care routines
- Coordinate respite sessions and log feedback from carers
- Keep a personal journal of her health changes so I can spot patterns early
- Even set self-care reminders for me — because my wellbeing matters too
It’s not just an app — it’s like having a second pair of hands (and a much more reliable memory).
📲 Learn more or download the app here: www.myvirtualcarer.com