Finally, someone is speaking out for the millions of caretakers worldwide.
The ones who vicariously suffer, deep in their hearts, as they watch their loved one's cringe with pain, day after day, year after year.
The wives and husbands, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters who silently scream because they just can't handle the stress, the worry, the workload any longer.
The long-suffering, smiley caretakers with the perfect bedside manner on the verge of burnout.
There was a time when I wanted to scream too. The pain of watching my husband cope with Level 10 physical pain each and every day was emotionally unbearable.
Physical pain can be treated with medications and pain killers. But what eases the pain in the heart of the caregiver who witnesses their loved one suffer, day in and day out? It's lonely, traumatizing and totally triggered my codependence.
I wrote about this experience in the Huffington Post article entitled, The Secret Pain of Caretakers, in the hopes it will help other caregivers feel less alone, validated and comforted. Click here to subscribe to receive daily updates on new articles! Follow @lenorathewriter on Twitter! Become a fan on HuffPost and check out my new blog on PsychCentral!
Click here to read The Secret Pain of Caretakers!
Do you remember your first home? Remember the golden glow that surrounded it, no matter how humble it was? Oh, I remember it well. For the first time, I was free to live the completely hedonistic life of a single woman living alone. And by hedonistic I mean leaving all the lights on all night. Cooking dinner at midnight and vacuuming at 5 a.m. Swagging every room with Christmas lights timed to come on just as I arrived home from work. Keeping the condo at a comfortable 72º year-round and draining the hot water heater to the last drop as often as I wanted. After my previous rigid, austere living arrangements, oh, it was bliss!
But after a month of solitary blessedness, a fly crept into my ointment. Could it be that I was...lonely!?! I adored living alone but the condo was too quiet.
But when I mentioned my intentions to adopt a puppy to the family, you'd have thought I'd announced plans to build a submarine in my basement. The extended family erupted in the usual vacuous cries of “You're going to ruin your life!” Relatives came out of the woodwork. A dog-loving uncle I hadn't seen for over a decade relayed a message through two relatives, and I quote, “A dog will ruin your life and your condo. Don't do it.”
Welcome to my world.