I'm not alone - there is care for the carer

For the last seven years, my mum's health has deteriorated in various ways. Now at the age of 84, whilst she lives alone in her own home, where she feels happiest, she needs considerable support. Healthcare issues, household chores, shopping, finances and the “your TV has found new channels and requires a software update – please press the yellow button on the remote” thingy, which is just so annoying. Luckily, I don't live too far away, about a thirty minute drive (which is useful if “Corrie” is on soon). I'm happy to do as much as I can. Nevertheless, sometimes it's challenging and stressful to care for a loved one. There is no training as such. You learn as you go along. You do what you do out of  love. You battle the “system”, you wake up at three in the morning wondering whether you did this or that right, you can't help but ponder the “what ifs”. It's an emotional roller coaster ride.  

Someone once said to me “and you have no siblings to share the burden”. Burden! It's true I often feel lonely dealing with all the varied issues that come along. There's no one to  bounce ideas, frustrations and fears, no one to help gauge one's own response, both on a  practical level and emotionally. And I get anxious about what the future holds, how things will pan out and whether I'll be able to cope. I'm not saying that as an only child I have it extra hard. After all, I've heard stories of resentment amongst siblings when care is not fairly dealt with. But no way is it a burden. I came to accept that my life now is different, but that doesn't mean I should feel lonely and isolated dealing with it all. And let's face it, friends and relatives don't always get what it's like. That well-meaning “how's your mum?" question and you just know if you go into detail, their eyes glaze over, because the story  is more or less the same, week by week, month by month. I'd rather people sometimes to say, “I know you're taking good care of your mum, but how are you?”.  

An LGBTQ+ Carers Lot 

One day, when I took Mum to a hospital appointment, I noticed a poster for a local carers support group pinned to a noticeboard. Ah, that's interesting, I thought, maybe I should check it out, then I felt a tad foolish for having never considered that carers groups even exist. This could really help, allow me to get things off my chest, with others that know the score. It's not good to bottle up emotions and frustrations, which undoubtedly happens from time to time - it comes with the territory. Plus, it would be a great way to access information, find out about other relevant support organisations and resources.  

The next couple of days, I thought about giving them a call - then the doubts started to  creep in. Would a 'traditional family orientated' carers support group be right for me?  Would I feel comfortable? My sexuality will likely come up at some point during conversations. It's bound to, otherwise there is no context to my particular needs, experiences, desires, hopes and concerns. Would it feel like ‘coming out’ all over again? I  really can't be doing all that – not at the age of 61! It feels unfair that there's this ‘extra  layer ' to contend with. Maybe I'm being overly negative, I thought, but I can tell you, I've had my fair share of homophobia in the workplace and elsewhere in the past. Those experiences tend to stick, for me at least. I'm less trusting of others in traditional settings, which I guess gets amplified when one is emotionally vulnerable. Then I thought, what the  heck, be bold. On my first visit, burst into the room waving rainbow flags, blowing a whistle and having Village People blast YMCA from my earbuds – but no, that's not me. 

Some years ago I was diagnosed with social anxiety, (I think that came about way back from the 1970s when as a teenager I didn't understand all this being attracted to other boys in the class business. Then, when the penny dropped, the fear of being outed, judged, and bullied went deep). So yes, this extra layer of uncertainty is kind of off-putting, a needless distraction. I know I shouldn't pre-judge. A traditional carers support group could be very welcoming and non-judgemental. It's just that element of doubt. Do I risk it? 

Tea, Biscuits and a Good Chat 

Skip forward a couple of years, and here I am, with my fellow LGBTQ+ carers, sharing experiences, supporting each other, swapping stories and advice. I found an LGBTQ+  Carers' Support Group in London – yay – I'm blowing that whistle now (no really I'm not)!  We're all at various stages of caring, whether it's for a partner, parent (or parents), even friends. For me, for all of us, it's a welcoming, safe space – where, most important of all, we can focus on what matters – CARING.

Published on 18/04/23