Compassion Fatigue: Journaling Back to Self-Care

Robin bradley hansel

FEMCITY FOUNDER’S MEMBER

As female business owners, we know that success in our professional and personal lives means we often wear many nametags at the same time. For those of us who identify as members of the “sandwich generation” (meaning we care for elderly parents at the same time as our kids), the toll on our physical and mental health is significant.

My caregiving journey accelerated in December 2016, during our son’s senior year of high school, when my father-in-law suffered a stroke. In 2019, my mother-in-law moved from Kentucky to our home in Florida after my father-in-law’s death. While getting her settled in an assisted-living facility that summer, both my parents in Georgia began to experience significant cognitive declines. During the winter of 2020, we simultaneously cleared out my husband’s childhood home and my parents’ home for their move into an assisted living facility. For two months, things were somewhat stable -- until the pandemic began. Finally, in late 2021, after our elderly dog died, we decided to downsize significantly and simplify life. Our home sale resulted in two more moves while handling all three of our parents’ transitional moves to their memory care and skilled nursing units, all while our son finished undergrad and grad school (more moving).

I share the paragraph above as evidence that if I could get through all this, you can, too. Caregiving is hard work. Having compassion for yourself is critical. Laughing also helps.

Six months ago, my mom died. On some level, I thought I’d feel a sense of relief since it had been 15 long years of watching her battle the horrors of Alzheimer’s Disease.

But I miss her terribly.

As a writer, I’ve turned even more to journaling to try and work through the sadness of this latest loss. What I’ve learned through my journal pages is that the caregiver fatigue I experienced for eight years is nothing compared to being unable to care for her now.

I grieve our unlived life. I grieve the times before her mental status declined when we could talk on the phone, roll our eyes at my dad’s antics, shop at CVS, make a cherry pie, or just ride in the car. I grieve not being able to decorate her room, snuggle in her hospital bed, hold hands, and watch predictable Hallmark movies or “The Golden Girls.”

So, I let myself grieve, and I write about it all. I write my feelings in the morning, the afternoon, or in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep. The physical movement of my hand across the page is soothing. Unlike typing, the action of writing with a pen and paper helps me feel closer to her touch. I don’t try to ask myself questions or come up with answers. I just write what I feel. I let the sorrows spill on the page for my eyes only.

In time, I hope to add the joys. Until then, I’ll keep writing. In journaling the pain, I guess I am still a caregiver. Only now, I’m caring for myself with all the compassion I deserve.

Robin Bradley Hansel, founder of Green Treehouse Media and Labyrinth Wellness, loves collaborative storytelling and ghostwriting in her clients’ personal voices. A licensed physical therapist with a poet’s sensibility and gift for deep listening, Robin’s writing style is “rooted and grounded in a love of words.” Check out her work and connect at www.greentreehousemedia.com and https://linktr.ee/robinbradleyhansel.