My husband Michael returned to the hospital this morning for another “small” procedure (he has long covid complications). I wish that I was not a frequent-hospital-patient’s-plus-one. Yet, when all is said and done, I’d rather it be me standing next to the bedside of my family, than anyone else. This procedure was meant to only be a day procedure. However, from experience, it was best to err on the side of caution, therefore Michael is staying overnight.

This time of year, from spring until January next year, is what I refer to as our Maverick. Maverick is the giant wave professional surfers chase off Pillar Point Harbour, Northern California. It is known to be one of the most dangerous and treacherous waves, and those who ride the Maverick are hailed as Titans. For me, this season from now until January is my race to be a Titan! This is a look inside what being a caregiver is like for me.

Why is this season more challenging?

Savannah is more anxious during this time. She experiences the change of the season into Spring in ways which makes her physically uncomfortable. To cope, Savannah self-injures. She has improved so much in this, but it is still a coping strategy that she defaults to. Savannah is not even aware that she hurts herself. It is not severe and nothing that Dettol and keeping the skin clean won’t heal, as well as strategies to redirect her and to increase her awareness of what she is doing. Still, just seeing her abrasions, and feeling like I am not doing enough, takes something out of me that is mentally and emotionally exhausting.

Three years ago, an occupational therapist worked with Savannah towards her overall wellness. We have maintained and seen an increase in her wellness since then. Savannah never slept through the night before that, and her longest length of sleeplessness was about three weeks straight. Since her time with the occupational therapist, Savannah only wakes up some nights. That is a huge blessing. However, during this Maverick season, she tends to call out more often while asleep.

Then there are the celebrations like Diwali, Guy Fawkes, and New Year’s Eve when sometimes there are fireworks. In the last few years, Savannah copes much better on these actual days but in the weeks and months prior, she is fixated on what sounds will be heard. She talks about it relentlessly.

Savannah is very sweet and wants to be near him to pray for him. When she hears Michael having an asthma-related issue, her anxiety deepens. Hence, this was partly the reason for him to stay in the hospital overnight to fully recover and maybe lessen Savannah’s worries.

This is our reality. It doesn’t phase me as much as it is exhausting for me. Still, I cope. I learnt to breathe deeply and get the next task or job done while redirecting Savannah or talking her through it. When I watch surfers barrel a Maverick, I feel like that is an analogy that resonates with how I feel. Like a surfer in a tube of a wave, trying with all her strength to keep her balance to ride out the Maverick without falling.

I also know that no one is coming to save me from this. People will help. They will offer advice, a meal, a shoulder but every morning it remains up to me to get up out of bed, face the day and be brave enough to go again down the rabbit holes of my daughters’ mind and my husband’s health.

How do I cope?

I acknowledge that this is a tough role to sustain. Instead of having a fixed plan to cope, I have several options that I can interject into my day without it feeling like another stretch for my mind and my heart. My activity of preference is walking. When I can’t make the time to do that, I listen to a favourite playlist or a podcast, talk with people who I enjoy being with, or I write. And I love trees. Seriously, love trees. I photograph trees wherever I am.

I also lean into my faith where I trust that God cares for me too. Sometimes I cast my worries on Him, other times I am loud or silently weeping to a friend. At times, I am questioning, and other times I dance joyfully. Always I am not holding these highs and lows hidden inside me. I have a fulfilling life outside of caring for my family too because I need to be in the spaces of my ministry and work to remain soft.

Often family caregivers tell me that it is easier said than done. To have any life outside of being a caregiver. This is true.

So, say it, and keep saying it. Over and over. Until your ears carry it to your heart and mind. Until someone else can hold you, listen to you and help you. Until you know you have your soft space inside of you.

You matter too. Your joy, your dreams, your experiences, your challenges..it all matters. To help make it easier for you to go from saying it to doing it, tell me in the comments one activity, routine, or indulgence that you miss doing, and how you think you can start at it again.

Information about Savannah is shared with her permission.