The Hidden Trauma of Caregiving

When you break a leg, you are fully aware of your trauma. You must wear a cast. You’re aware of the pain your accident caused, both physically and emotionally. You suddenly have new limits to what you can do and how fast you can maneuver. What is not so obvious is that the person with the broken leg isn’t the only one facing trauma. When one person suffers a crisis, those around them suffer, too. There is a hidden trauma to caregiving.

As I’ve gone through this health crisis with my mom, I’ve done physical work, like moving her out of her apartment. But I’ve also given up my goals and agendas to assist my mother with her needs. I’ve wrestled with anguish, disappointment, and anxiety as new health issues reared their ugly heads. I constantly carry the weight of losing my mother and the responsibility of handling her affairs once she’s gone.  And then there’s the expectation that I will be there for her, holding her hand as she lingers, bedridden and lonely.

Some days—many days if I am honest—this burden is more than I can bear. Which brings me to the insight of the day: Anyone thrust into the role of caregiver during a crisis suffers their own personal trauma.

The whole family is affected

When a crisis happens, it sets in motion a domino effect of implications that touch everyone in the immediate family (not to mention coworkers, teammates and others). These people aren’t wearing a cast or going to the clinic for treatments, so they may appear to be normal. But their lives are irrevocably affected by the crisis, whether others notice or not.

As I’ve gone through this health crisis with Mom, I’ve learned the importance of acknowledging the challenges I’m facing. They exist. They affect me. And they affect my husband, my work, and my health.

When I admit that I’m facing trauma too, I have an easier time giving myself grace and letting go of unrealistic expectations. This is critically important, because if I try to keep up with the pre-crisis version of my life I will quickly burn out and be of no use to anyone.

The same applies to you whenever crisis strikes. Whether you are the primary caregiver or just a supportive family member, you are being affected by the crisis.

A tool for revealing the hidden trauma of caregiving—an emotional to do list

When faced with a problem, I want to make lists, implement solutions, and cross things off my list so I feel like I’m helping. However, when it comes to caregiving in a family crisis, much of what I’m called to do doesn’t show up on a normal to do list.

To help me see all the hard work I’m accomplishing, I’ve discovered the power of making an Emotional To Do List. This list focuses on the emotional, mental, and social energy that is expended during our caregiving duties.

For example: On a normal to do list, sitting in the hospital with a family member looks like a cinch—sit around and do nothing all day. Easy peasy. And yet, anyone who has spent a day sitting with a loved one in a hospital knows how exhausting this is!

An emotional to do list helps me capture why this seemingly simple task is so taxing. Here are some entries I might include for a day spent with Mom in the hospital:

My hospital visit emotional to do list

• Giving up my agenda for an entire day
• Driving to and from the hospital (instead of working from my home office)
• Sitting in an uncomfortable chair for hours
• Trying to keep the conversation going
• The constant beeps and alarms that set my teeth on edge
• Medical personnel bustling in an out without warning
• Trying to remain cheerful, patient, and encouraging when inside I’m crying, scared, and worried.
• Trying to make sense of complicated medical explanations and feeling out of my depth and sure I’m missing important information without realizing it.
• Bored. Bored. Bored. (But trying not to show it.)

When I look over this list, I see why I feel so exhausted. The hidden trauma I’m dealing with is suddenly easier to spot, which helps me be more compassionate with myself.  This list proves that I wasn’t “doing nothing” all day. I accomplished a lot of difficult tasks.

And when I can see this, I am able to let go of expectations that apply to my pre-crisis reality and give myself grace to ignore the weeds in the flower bed or other non-essential tasks. Instead, I can be intentional about reserving my energy for the most important thing—supporting my family through the crisis.

Where’s the hidden trauma in your life?

Is someone you know in the midst of a crisis? Have you stopped to consider how their troubles are affecting you? Instead of beating yourself up for not keeping up with life, try creating an emotional to do list of your past week. You might be facing more hidden trauma than you realize.

And even if you’re not facing a crisis, you’re probably not giving yourself credit for all the emotionally draining tasks you accomplish each week. You can utilize the emotional to do list to help you recognize all the hard stuff you’ve accomplished. Atta girl!