CALLING MY ENERGY HOME – Caregiver Burnout

I woke up this morning with a stress hangover. Some might call it caregiver burnout, but for me, it feels even more layered than that.

Do you know what I’m talking about?

It’s that heavy, post-overdoing-it fog—when you’ve been doing too much for too many, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Your body feels like lead. Your head aches. Your back protests every movement—as if you’ve been lifting far too much. In my case, that includes both 40-lb bags of kitty litter and emotional weight.

Trips to Costco. The grocery store. Hauling laundry and a vacuum cleaner up and down the stairs. It all adds up to my own personal version of burnout.

As soon as my feet hit the carpet beside my bed, I heard the lawn guy.
Didn’t he know I wasn’t ready to deal with the world?
Apparently not.

I told myself he was just trying to beat the heat—90 degrees with 90% humidity isn’t good for anybody. He’s only a tad younger than me, after all.

Everything was in place for a full-on meltdown. But instead, I took a breath and said to myself:
This is a hard stop moment.

If I resist it, I will break—probably into a thousand little pieces no one will be able to find, least of all me.

Slowly Coming Around

I poured myself a cup of coffee (though I keep promising myself I’ll switch to matcha—coffee is no friend to adrenal fatigue). I took a breath and a beat, and I made the decision to just stop. Stop everything until I could find my way to clarity.

Little did I know, my husband was feeling the exact same way.

The time we took to simply pause and breathe felt like Alka-Seltzer after a rough night. (I’m guessing there are better remedies out now.) Slowly, the weight on my shoulders lifted. The air in the room felt fresher. I noticed details in my surroundings I hadn’t seen in days.

It’s funny how stress narrows our focus—literally.

When we accept life’s demands in rapid succession, without pausing to breathe, we not only risk caregiver burnout or worse – illness, we miss the little things that make life worth living:
the hummingbird at the feeder,
sunlight dancing through the crystal in the window,
a cat purring quietly beside us.

Slowing down with age is hard enough. But for many of us, aging also brings added caregiving responsibilities—parents, children, grandchildren, spouses, siblings.
It can feel like everyone needs a piece of you.

The trap is set, and we step right into it.

But here’s the gift waiting to be discovered:

Whether we step into the trap or not, it can teach us something about ourselves.
And what I’m trying to learn is summed up in a mantra I keep pinned to my desktop:

I call my energy home.
I release what is not mine.

So, when my son calls to talk over his struggles, I listen. I support him. I offer advice if he asks. And when I hang up, I shed whatever tears I might be holding for his pain—
and then I let it go.

The problem is not mine.
His suffering is not mine.
His path forward is not mine to walk.

Just as he cannot fix my life, I cannot live his.

It’s funny—I don’t expect him to live my life for me.
But I still expect myself to live his life for him.
And everyone else’s, too.

I am still becoming.
And today, I am calling my energy home,
and releasing what is not mine—
one breath at a time.

You might also like:

How to Avoid Caregiver Burnout

How to Accept Being a Caregiver

Caregiver Support – Eliminate Caregiver Burnout

STOP BY AND VISIT ME ON SUBSTACK – “In the Quiet Morning” – A Reflection