The Dangerous Trap of the “Purposeful” Caregiver.

Photo by Andrew R on Unsplash

Every post you see here holds strong emotions derived from isolated, exhausting incidents — the kinds of moments that test you in ways you don’t deserve to be tested. Some things I write might come off as harsh or ungrateful, but that is exactly why I need to say them.

When you dedicate your life to taking care of someone else, you feel all their emotions in extremes. You feel it secondhand. You’re angry for them, you’re upset for them, you’re sad for them. You become everything for them, and the sheer weight of that drowns out your own internal voice.

The caregiver’s loop is a hard place to live. You simply don’t have the time to process feelings because you are surviving in “panic-but-be-ready” mode.

But underneath that panic, whether you are doing this out of love, respect, or sheer responsibility… there is rage. Since the patient isn’t someone you can get mad at, you are just mad. You are angry at yourself, angry at the people around you, and angry at the loop itself.

The reality is that while the caregiver loses themselves in the patient’s life, the patient isn’t doing any better. They are navigating a new reality — one where they are sick, dependent, and heavily restricted. That realization is a painful thing to process as a human being, and most of the time, that frustration gets taken out on the one person closest to them: the caregiver.

My father has Stage 5 CKD. For those who know what Chronic Kidney Disease is, you know that fluid builds up in the body faster than the failing kidneys can flush it out. The patient has to be extremely cautious about what they eat and exactly how much water they drink. But even if your loved one is doing wonderfully and taking immense care of their health, there will be bursts of emotion on some random day when they are absolutely done with this sick and restricted life.

And that is a heavy day.

One day, he woke up and decided, to hell with the world.

He ate whatever he wanted to his heart’s content and drank almost a full liter of water (his strict restriction is 450–500ml). Not only did he feel horrible the rest of the day, but I spent every single waking minute living in sheer panic. I was terrified, not knowing if I would have to rush him to the hospital, or if it would pass on its own and he would be fine.

So yes, the rage is real.

Being in this position is exhausting. It is exhausting when you don’t understand the medical jargon and tend to overreact to big medical words. But it is deeply, profoundly exhausting when the person you are desperately trying to protect has their low days and sabotages their own health.

That anger has nowhere to go. Nowhere but back to yourself.

Disclaimer: I am sharing my personal experience as a caregiver. I am not a medical professional. Always consult a doctor or registered dietitian for medical advice.