Three Years In: Coming Up For Air and Finding My Voice
It’s been a little over three years since Glenn’s stroke, and I am finally coming up for air. How has everyone been? Honestly, it has been pretty rough for me; but that is okay. I keep reminding myself over and over again that life is not a wish-granting factory.
In the time since Glenn’s stroke, I feel like I may have accomplished more than many people do in a life time—and I am exhausted. That deep, bone-weary exhaustion is a constant companion, isn’t it? It’s the kind that sleep never quite fixes because it’s woven into the fabric of continuous responsibility.
We went from partners planning our future to patient and primary carer overnight. This shift requires not just energy, but a fundamental rewriting of your personality. You have to become a logistics manager, a medical advocate, a financial analyst, and a marriage counselor, often before 7 AM. Every milestone feels like a mountain peak climbed without oxygen.
I don’t let that stop me though, I just keep pushing through every minute, every hour, every day, every week, and every month. To what end? I have no idea, I just know at this time this is what I need to be doing.
The Myth of the “Put-Together Caregiver”
If I’ve learned anything in these past 36 months, it is the absolute freedom of lowering your standards. I am here to let you know that it is okay to have horrible days. It’s okay to leave your house a disheveled mess. No one cares as much as you think they do!
I spent the first year beating myself up because I couldn’t maintain the pre-stroke version of myself. Of course, it would be great to be showered, glamored, and looking like a rather well-put-together-human, but some days the stars do not align, and it just isn’t going to happen.
Do you know what I have come to realize? That it’s okay! Tomorrow will hopefully be better. Letting go of that misplaced guilt is the key to longevity in this role. We need to reserve our energy for the things that truly matter: the medical needs, the administrative paperwork, and the rare moments of joy.
The Necessity of Tools and Support
For every emotional burden, there’s often a practical solution waiting to be found. Early in this journey, I realized I had to start collecting and optimizing my routines. I needed actionable ways to stop the clock from running away from me. That’s why I created resources like the 30 Genius Caregiver Time-Saver Hacks https://thecaregiversnook.com/caregiver-hacks/ that I wish I’d had on Day One. Every minute reclaimed is a victory.
And on those truly horrible days—the ones where the guilt and exhaustion are overwhelming—we have to actively search for the tiny good things, or what I call “Glimmers.” That is why I write so much about that topic. You can find some of those small victories in my guide on Finding Glimmers of Hope in Caregiving https://thecaregiversnook.com/finding-daily-glimmers/ . You have to feed the good wolves, as the saying goes.
I hope you find my website a place where you can check in when you need to smile, laugh, or learn something to help your day be a little better! I’m so glad you’re here. We are in this together.
