The Silent Strength of Carers: Finding Hope and Positivity in Challenging Times Part 2

The Power of Hope and Positivity

Both a blessing and a curse, I was born with a brain defaulted to seeing the positive, a big picture thinker who sees possibilities even in the darkest corners. A body that seeks positive interactions and traits that lend themselves to always moving forwards like a rolling stone, gathering no moss. I’ve learned that hope can change everything. I didn't realise it was so scarce in this world, and others couldn't see the invisible paths I envisioned.

Hope isn’t just about wishful thinking; it’s about believing you can set meaningful goals and find ways to reach them. But hope doesn’t happen by accident. When I lost hope and couldn't see a path forward, professional coaching, the right doctor, and reconnecting with my support network (family & friends) were game-changers. I will talk more about all of these things in the future. Over time, we identified small wins, reminding us that something was worth celebrating even in challenging moments. Humour is my weapon and my defence. I knew I was through the worst when joy returned to our laughter.

While gratitude practices, mindfulness, and focusing on strengths can help us find some balance, they can also help the people we lean on feel more positive about the support they're giving us too. It’s not about ignoring the complex parts of needing help or caregiving, it’s about balancing them with moments of joy and purpose. These practices don't just help improve relationships; they help normalise difficulties, reduce stigma, and bring levity to some dark moments.

The Impact of Society and Culture

Let’s be honest, caregiving isn’t just hard because of the day-to-day challenges. It’s also shaped by how society sees the role. In many cultures, caregiving is seen as just another family duty, not something that deserves recognition or support. This makes it even harder for carers, especially those in marginalised communities, to access the help they need.

I saw this in my situation. During the pandemic I couldn’t find help. We tried to manage everything on our own. It was a disaster. Brian was trying to do his job, and I was trying to do mine, and things looked fine. We told people things were fine. Reality couldn't have been further from what the world was allowed to see. It wasn’t until I burned out for the second or third time, when I had better health insurance, that we finally found the proper support and things started to change. It reminded me that no one can or should have to do this alone. And sometimes our loved ones, find themselves unexpectedly taking care of someone (us) in ways that they maybe hadn't expected or accounted for, which can be stressful. We shouldn't be afraid to acknowledge that, or that more of us have difficulties that we are experts at hiding from the world.

Inclusive schools, workplaces and community programs can make a big difference. When carers know their loved ones are supported outside the home, within society's systems and expectations, that differences are supported through information and tactile solutions, it lightens their load and gives them space to breathe. It also allows them to focus on work, the pursuit of their own dreams and well-being. Unfortunately, these resources aren’t always accessible, which we must change.

What Needs to Happen Next

The truth is that carers are the backbone of support systems worldwide. But they can’t keep carrying the weight without help. We must shift from seeing caregiving as a burden to recognising it as a partnership. One that deserves attention, resources, and care.

What does this look like?

• Recognising all carers, including those supporting “hidden” challenges like mental health or neurodivergence.

• Building community programs that offer practical and emotional support.

• Making gratitude, mindfulness, and strengths-based practices part of the caregiving conversation.

• 
  

When we invest in caregivers, we invest in families, communities, and society. It’s not just about helping carers survive—it’s about helping them and all of us thrive.

Finding Strength in the Journey

Caregiving is an act of love, but it’s also a journey filled with highs and lows. Through my own experiences and those of others I’ve spoken to, one thing is clear: Hope and positivity aren’t luxuries—they’re necessities. I often apologise to Brian for carrying the burden of my worst days. I feel guilt, because abiding with my impulse control disorder, observing my worst moments when my pre-frontal cortex dysregulates, and rejection sensitivity dysphoria overrides logic leaving environmental destruction in its wake (mess, doom piles, 100 cups and spoons waiting to be discovered like an easter egg hunt), takes its toll on him too. Our magic sink shows him no mercy.

When I have these existential moments and ask if his life would be easier without me (not dead just elsewhere) and my chaos, he reassures me that he trusts me, believes in me, and knows what I'm capable of. He also reminds me of how much we laugh in the midst of that chaos. How comical some of those things are, how dramatic some minor things become in a way that entertains him, and that our relationship is not a one-way street. He tells me what I do for him when I have all engines firing, and even when I don't. We also have an incredible support network. Friends and family fill me with hope, we are open and authentic. We remind each other of what we can do, not what we can't.

When I'm ready, he helps me clean up my chaos, without judgement, without argument, without needing to be coerced or convinced. We each have our strengths and weaknesses and we understand that we can choose to bring out the best or worst in each other. We actively choose the best, when the worst happens, we're resilient, we don't argue or blame, we move into support mode and figure out how we will adapt. It takes work, flexible learning, acceptance and a wicked sense of humour. Life is hard enough, we welcome peace in our home and inner circle.

To every accidental carer out there: You are stronger than you know, and what you do matters more than words can express. Remember to find the small wins, lean on your community, and never be afraid to ask for help. Together, we can build a world that values and supports you the way you deserve. We need you, and we see what you do to help us be our best for everyone else.