Caregiving is often described as a role. It is closer to a second life, running underneath your first one, with no shift end and no handover.
What makes it so heavy is rarely the tasks themselves. It is the mixture: love and resentment in the same hour, grief for someone still alive, guilt for wanting an afternoon back, and the certainty that saying any of this out loud would make you a bad daughter, partner, parent or friend.
You are allowed a place where that is all sayable, and where the plan is not simply that you find more to give.
How the work tends to go
Practical nervous-system regulation for a body running on empty, honest space for the feelings that are not socially permitted, and values work to find what still belongs to you inside the role.
