Better to go the distance than win the race
Even for those, like myself, who weren’t too hard hit by the recent floods, just witnessing the mountains of mud drenched furniture spilling onto the streets, hearing endless stories of trauma and loss and contemplating the enormity of the recovery effort can be challenging. Especially when it's hot on the heels of two years of Covid lockdowns, fear and uncertainty.
In recent weeks I have come to realise something about myself—I’m not great in a crisis. Last night our saintly neighbour visited us and shared heartbreaking stories of individuals and families she’s been helping who have been separated from families and pets, lost their livelihoods, their homes, their cars and all their possessions. My husband has also been volunteering on the frontline 5 days a week, arranging whitegood donations and delivery.
That evening I berated and belittled myself for not getting out there, like my partner and neighbour, who are out there everyday helping those hardest hit by the floods. I have done a few stints of volunteering at the local hub, distributing meals, stacking food, cleaning a shop and donating goods and money, but compared with others it hasn’t felt like enough.
I wanted to share my story and my struggle with not having the capacity to do more, be more for others because I’m sure I’m not alone in this. I have learned four things from this painful process 1. Not everyone, especially empaths, have what it takes to be a first responder, and that’s ok 2. Recovering from a crisis like this is not a quick fix, our flood-affected community will need support for a long time to come. 3. It’s vital that those offering support feel resourced enough to help 4. Different kinds of support will be needed as recovery continues, and this is where I come in; more on this later.
At the height of my self-flagellation I remembered the race car analogy, not that I’m a fan but in this situation it actually works. A Formula 1 driver does several circuits of the racetrack each time they race, making 1-3 pit stops during the race to change their tyres. While the pit stop and the change of tyres slows them down, leaving them at a potential disadvantage, fresh tyres create better grip and therefore more speed overall and less risk of crashing and bombing out of the race.
Leading up to the flood I hadn’t been taking the pit stops I should have, working 6 days a week on four different projects left my tyres were threadbare and not fit-for-purpose. I was exhausted and starting to feel the familiar and unwanted signs of burnout returning.
Burnout and adrenal fatigue began when I was caring for my mother
My first brush with burnout and adrenal fatigue began after I spent five years caring for my Mother up until her death in 2020. Mum had Parkinson’s and Dementia, and in the earlier years my sister and I shared the care, which left me some space to juggle work, family and volunteer commitments.
In the last three years of Mum’s life her health and abilities declined, and my role as a carer became a full-time job that involved feeding, bathing, medicating and toileting Mum, taking her to appointments, managing her finances and watching her like a hawk whenever she was mobile, because she was prone to fainting without any warning.
I lived every day on high alert, waking each day and racing up to check she hadn’t fallen in the night, often waking during the night to check on her. Unless my partner was at home, or I was able to get someone to be with Mum, I was unable to even go to the shops without worrying that Mum would go wandering on our very steep property, or have a fall. I lived on adrenaline and felt totally trapped and exhausted all the time. When Mum finally went to bed around 9-9.30pm I fell into a heap, with no energy for my partner or myself.
During this time, all my self-care practices, like meditation, stretching, walking and creativity went out the window. There was nothing to look forward to and there was no reprieve. When I began fantasising about driving into oncoming traffic I knew I was in trouble.
When the manager at a respite facility said I needed to put Mum into a care facility or risk becoming mentally or physically ill myself, I felt relieved. This relief was tinged by a gnawing guilt that I was letting her down, especially in light of all the stories of neglect coming out of the aged care sector.
Although it was far from a perfect solution, and I was constantly battling the home to be more vigilant in their care and oversight, I visited Mum every day and was able to restore balance and self care in my daily life and to return to the role of being my Mother’s daughter and our relationship and my mental health was better for it.
That’s why I started my Handle with Care program
This initial experience of burnout prompted me to start Handle with Care, a program I created to help other carers to replenish their cups with self-care and creativity. The only problem was even 6 months after Mum’s death I still wasn’t feeling resourced enough to help others, so I went to work instead as a disability support worker.
In the past few months, as the balance in my life went off course again and multiple work projects took precedence, the feeling of overwhelm and panic returned. So when the floods hit I was already flagging.
The silver lining in all this is that the floods have reminded me again of the importance of pouring from a full cup, of balancing work, play, family, friends and the things you love doing. That reminder has helped me to see that I CAN help members of my community through self-care and art therapy in a rebadged version of Handle with Care, down the track.
First I need to recharge my engine, rejig the program and find some funding so I can offer it to those who need it most for free.
It’s human to want to help those in need and it’s humane to find a way to do this that serves you and those you support, in any situation. Better to take those much needed pit stops of rest and self care so you can actually finish the race.
