What I wish you all knew…the relief of being heard

It seems to be enough for people that I live with and look after Mum on a full-time basis. It seems to be enough for them that Mum is alive. But none of that means I’m doing a great job.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the intent behind the comment. Like anything, it depends on who it comes from and what they know of our situation. But often that sort of acknowledgement isn’t authentic. And I can feel when it isn’t.

True validation comes from the heart. It comes from listening and respecting, from honouring and empathising. It feels full to the receiver, not empty.

I can feel when I’m being genuinely acknowledged, just as I can see through flippant, superficial, throwaway lines.

During my first six months in this role I came across a 6-part online workshop for ‘children’ carers who were wanting to keep their elderly loved ones at home. This spoke to me as that is what I’m doing my best to do here: keep Mum in her own home until the day she goes to the crematorium. So I signed up. It was with a charity I hadn’t heard of before: Dementia Carers Count.

That course, while packed full of practical tips, discussion, and relevant information was, for me, an opening. What I gained from those weeks with 19 other ‘children’ and a perfect, experienced, knowledgeable facilitator was the importance of and deep need for acknowledgement and validation.

In the care sector you have to work hard to have your needs heard by anyone at all, never mind met. Here, in these workshops, my experience as a carer wasn’t just being heard by the facilitator. I, as a person, a human being with feelings, was actually being acknowledged, validated, and accepted for all of me with what I felt was a very deep understanding and respect for my reality in here with Mum.

That went above and beyond all the tips, suggestions, and ideas I received on the course; I hadn’t been aware that all I’d been longing for was to feel appreciated. The enormity of this role cannot ever be underestimated.

I made a very good friend on that workshop too, who has become a valued and appreciated source of advocacy and peer support.

A year after the course, and a year-and-a-half deep into my experience as a full-time unpaid carer, I had tried to call helplines and found them to be lacking. Charities can only do as much as their funding allows. I’ve learned to accept that.

That question touched me in a raw way. Nobody ever talks about emotions, emotional toll, and how emotional expenditure affects our physical and mental wellbeing – not just in caring, and not just in caring for dementia.

Our society fails miserably at emotions.

Yet in that one simple question, I realised that someone had listened to me, heard me, felt me, seen me, and was concerned about me. That feeling of being cared about stayed with me for some weeks.

I am currently blessed to be receiving a series of counselling sessions from Dementia Carers Count.

The counsellor can’t give me a hug, but she offers love, compassion, understanding and a space of acceptance where she just receives me wherever I’m at, no questions asked, no pressure, and not even a need to explain if I can’t make our appointment.

It’s hard to explain how invaluable, liberating, and empowering it feels to me to be seen and cared about in this way.

Thank you for reading my story.