One of the biggest issues I had as a caregiver was no energy!

I knew I was doing a lot, caring for my mom (She had Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s and lived with us) and raising three daughters, but I still felt like most of my work was at home, not terribly hard or fast-paced, so why did I  always feel as if I was swimming in peanut butter?

I had such big plans. I thought since I was basically under house arrest, I’d spring clean, write more, paint a room, take a French course on the Internet. Caregiving wasn’t going to defeat me!

Nada.

I couldn’t make myself do anything. My body and my mind had gone to mush. Each day was a monotony of pills, food trays, doctor appointments, laundry and dinner…the nights were roller-coaster as mother’s sundowning made her more alert and agitated as the night wore on.

I was caring for a lot of people, yes, but when I began to observe what was draining my energy, it was less physically related than I initially suspected.

5 Caregiving Energy Zappers

1. Lack of sleep.
2. Worry and Regret
3. Control Issues/Boundary Issues
4. Grieving
5. Holding on too long/not letting go

Lack of sleep is obvious, and the most physical of the 5 zappers. It’s also perhaps the most detrimental effect of caregiving. You have to realize that interrupted sleep is even harder on your body. You walk in a zombie state. You eat more to compensate, you can’t concentrate. We know that lack of sleep effects job performance, driving (even more than alcohol some argue), and your overall health and how it can contribute to obesity.The lack of sleep, compounded with the enormous challenges and responsibilities of caregiving creates a recipe for disaster.

What to do?

Tough one. Not all caregivers have the option or want to place their loved one in a facility.

Couple of options: Do you have a friend or neighbor or relative who lives nearby that you could go and sleep in a guest bedroom once or twice a month? You need to be OUT of your house, so your body doesn’t have all those cues to wake up. Even if your spouse of someone is willing to take care of your mom/dad/loved one, it’ll still wake you. Go somewhere else. Even a night at the Motel 8 is a good use of your money. Trust me on this one.

Second option: call you local council on aging and find out about respite services in your area. Or call a large church and ask for an adult sitter–or take your loved one to an adult day care. Insist they go. If they’re pouty, oh well. You have to take care of your health. You have to nap. You have to sleep! Without sleep, your body doesn’t repair itself. You could have a car accident, give your loved one the wrong dosage. You have to address this. Sleep deprivation is a serious problem that leads to many other problems.

Worry and regret: These are two hound dogs that won’t give up. They bullies and they’ll taunt you, pick at you, needle at you until you do what you have to do to all bullies, bears, lions and tigers.

How to face your inner bullies:

Stop running. Turn around. Take a deep breath.

PUFF UP. That’s what they tell you if you’re in the woods and are attacked by a bear.

Yell, bang pots, scream NO! Throw your arms around appear big and large and menacing and prove to that bully (and yourself) that you’re not running any more.

Worry is looking forward, living in fear of a future that isn’t even here yet. What if…?

Regret is looking back, beating yourself up for what’s already done. Why did I?

Both are not living in the present.

I just finished Eckhart Tolle’s book, The New Earth–Oprah’s bookclub pick. Get it on CD (his voice is about as flat as Stephen Hawking’s voice synthesizer, but the book’s so heady, it’s easier to listen to than read) His insights into living in this present moment, and why that brings peace, purpose and joy was refreshing really rang deep within my bones.

Worry and regret are just borrowing trouble, and trouble multiplies. They will eat at your mind, your heart and your life and will never stop. There’s always something to worry about, always something to regret.

What to do? Again, stop, turn around, face this bully and say “NO.”

I suggest wearing one of those wrist bands (one of those rubber band/bracelet things). and every time you start to worry or regret, snap it real hard. Say out loud, STOP. Choose a good thought to replace it with. Have 2-3 fall back thoughts to replace the negative ones with–or put on music but stop the cycle.

Control Issues/ Boundary issues: You’re either one way or the other. You have to control everything–or you don’t know how to say no.

It comes with the territory, and let’s face it, caregivers are bossy. Either by nature or by default, we’re used to running things. We know how mom likes her eggs, how to get her to take her pills, how we like the bed made, and on and on… We don’t ask for help because we want things done our way.

Caregivers are all people pleasers. We like being needed, but the problem is, it mounts and mounts, and we simply can’t do it all. Stage left, in comes worry and regret. We need help, We need to give up our perfectionism and realize that we don’t always have to be busy–control thrives off of busyness, and after a while, caregivers forget how to do anything other than care give! We sit in front of the tv with our families and feel we should fold laundry, make next week’s list. We don’t know how to just relax any more because we’re in uber-mode.

How to stop? Breathe. One deep breath at at time. Ask for help, and then tell yourself that no one has to do it your way. Find small 5 minute relaxers–a bath, a walk, and try not to think ahead, plan, or organize your thoughts. Just be. Each time you feel your nerves building. Stop, Breathe. Fill every ounce of your lungs. Do it three times. The world can wait. Breathing is a great stress reducer.

Grieving: Those of us who have a loved one with a “life limiting illness or disease” as hospice says, knows that our time with our loved one is running out. Alzheimer’s, ALS, Lewy Body can take our loved one from us long before they leave this earth. We still have all the physical care, but without the reward of the relationship with our loved one. They might not know who we are, might not be appreciative or even be capable of talking.

We’re already grieving. Our hearts ache, and yet we have to keep on. Grieving is hard, necessary work, but it’s still work and it takes an enormous amount of energy to grieve.

If this is where you are in your life, first, recognize it.

Second, be easy on yourself.

No wonder you don’t have energy. Just get through. Grieve as only you can. Does that mean sleeping, flipping channels? crying? Do whatever you can to get through.

Look for ways to soothe your soul–journal, pray or meditate, go out in nature and just sit. Talk if that helps, or be silent. This is a part of the process and we have to honor grief. When we do, when we don’t fight it but let it naturally occur, then it’s healing and cathartic–and it doesn’t last forever. As hard as it is, trust that joy and energy will return.

Letting go: Holding up a cardboard box isn’t difficult, right? It’s not heavy, but stand there long enough and that cardboard box starts feeling like a boulder. Not letting go is the same way. You can’t get your mother back from Alzheimer’s. I’m sorry. I really am. But you can’t. You have to let go that she doesn’t know you. You can’t get an ex husband back who’s already married again. You can only move on with your life. You can’t regret you didn’t finish college. You can go now, but regretting the past is useless.

Holding on is subtle and can go undetected. We think we have. We don’t pay attention to the snippets of thoughts in our heads, that running dialogue. We don’t realize we’re holding hurts and grudges, that we want things to be the way they were even though we know that life has changed. We’ve changed.

When my nephew, Charles was about three years old, his mother came to the back door and offered him and his older sister a cupcake. Charles had a matchbox car in one hand, and a palmetto bug (big roach!) in the other. He looked at the cupcake, looked at his car, looked at the bug, and couldn’t decide.

Then he popped the roach in his mouth and grabbed the cupcake!

Lesson here: Let go of the “cock roaches” in your life, and take the cupcake!

I ask you, what are you holding onto? What do you need to grieve? What are you going to have to let go of and then hold out your empty hands and trust that something or someone new will come into your life. I can’t promise that you’re not going to have to sit with that void for awhile, and that’s what we’re all afraid of–but I can promise you this:

Until you let go, you’re hindering all the good out there that’s waiting to come into your life.

Energy zappers keep us from our joy and purpose. They make us exhausted, grumpy and lost in a fog.

By identifying our nemesis, our energy zapper–we can stop, turn, look at it for what it is, and make better choices.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com