Caregiver Burnout: The Silent Struggle We Need to Talk About
On International Women’s Day, we celebrate the resilience, leadership, and power of women around the world. We honor the women who break barriers, push for change, and uplift others. But there’s another kind of strength that often goes unnoticed: the quiet, relentless strength of caregivers—the mothers, foster parents, and guardians who give everything they have, often at the expense of their own well-being.
Caregiving is one of the purest acts of love, yet it can also be one of the heaviest burdens. And for many women, including myself, the weight of that role can become so overwhelming that we forget who we are outside of it. This is my story of caregiver burnout; of losing myself, finding my way back, and learning that even the strongest women need support.
There was a time in my life when I was drowning, though no one could see it. I was a foster parent to a child who required constant supervision, navigating one emergency after another. My days were consumed with putting out fires, and my nights were spent wondering if I could keep doing it all again tomorrow. I was losing clients at work due to frequent cancellations as the relentless stream of emergencies began to dictate my daily life. My marriage was strained, and I felt like a shadow of the person I used to be.
I remember the cruel way I spoke to myself during that time.
“Oh, Alisha, you're better than this. Why can you help the people at your work but not even help your own family?”
I bullied myself, shamed myself, and convinced myself that I was failing in every way. The hardest moments came when the child I was caring for engaged in self-injurious behaviors. I responded every time—I always did—but inside, I had nothing left to give. My body was reacting, but my heart and mind felt absent. And the guilt of that nearly broke me.
I knew I needed help, but I was terrified to ask for it. What if reaching out proved I was a terrible foster parent? What if social development took my kids away? What if they thought I was unfit to run RealWorldABA? I had convinced myself that admitting struggle meant admitting failure.
One night, I finally cracked. Sitting in my husband's arms, sobbing, I said the words that had been suffocating me:
“I don’t know how I can keep up this pace anymore. I miss you. I miss us. It just feels like these kids take up so much mental, physical, and emotional energy, I have nothing left.”
At the time, I was furious at what he said next. But looking back, I realize it was the moment that saved me. He pulled me close and said softly:
“I miss you too. I feel emotionally neglected by you.”
Everything around me seemed to freeze. The weight of those words was suffocating and painfully clear. We needed to be healthy for each other. And in that moment, I realized, things had to change.
I needed help. And I needed to start by being kind to myself.
The next day, with my heart in my throat, I picked up the phone and called my social worker. I told her everything; the raw, unfiltered truth of how I adored these kids but felt mentally exhausted, numb, and ashamed. How I was constantly angry at myself for not being able to handle it better. How I felt like a hypocrite because I encouraged other parents to ask for help, yet I couldn’t do the same.
She listened patiently, and in the kindest, most empathetic way, she said:
“Alisha, you are experiencing caregiver burnout. And it means that your exhaustion, your guilt, your overwhelming emotions, they’re not proof that you’re failing. They’re proof that you’re human. And humans need support.”
She asked if I would be open to speaking with a counselor who specializes in working with foster parents. My gut reaction was shame. Shouldn’t I be strong enough to handle this on my own? But the truth was, I had been trying to “handle it” alone, and it was breaking me.
So, I said yes.
That first conversation with the counsellor was like opening a floodgate. The moment she asked, “Tell me how things are going,” I just sobbed. I told her about the embarrassment I felt for needing help, the fear I carried about not being enough, and the guilt that I was neglecting the most important person in my life. And she assured me I wasn’t crazy. She named what I was going through—caregiver burnout—and helped me see that I wasn’t alone.
From that moment, things began to shift. I wasn’t magically cured, but I was no longer fighting alone. My counsellor became part of my team. We brainstormed strategies for the kids. We developed self-regulation tools for me. We built intentional self-care into my week, not as a luxury, but as a necessity. And over time, I learned how to be a highly involved, deeply loving caregiver without losing myself in the process.
Because here’s the thing: Caregiver burnout is real. And it doesn’t just “go away.” It festers in silence until we crash. But we don’t have to crash. We don’t have to white-knuckle our way through it alone.
What Is Caregiver Burnout?
Caregiver burnout is a state of physical, emotional, and mental exhaustion that results from the prolonged stress of providing care for someone with high support needs. It doesn’t mean you don’t love the person you’re caring for, it means you’ve been giving so much that your well-being has taken a backseat.
Common Symptoms of Caregiver Burnout
- Chronic fatigue and exhaustion
- Feeling detached, numb, or emotionally drained
- Increased irritability, frustration, or hopelessness
- Difficulty concentrating or making decisions
- Guilt and self-judgment (“I should be handling this better”)
- Neglecting personal needs, relationships, or self-care
- Physical symptoms such as headaches, insomnia, or muscle tension
How Common Is It? Caregiver burnout is more common than people realize, especially among parents and foster parents of children with autism, FASD, or other neurodiversities. The emotional and physical toll of constantly advocating, problem-solving, and managing behaviours can be overwhelming, yet many caregivers feel pressured to keep pushing forward without acknowledging their own needs.
What Does Support Look Like? Seeking help isn’t a sign of failure, it’s a sign of strength. Support for caregiver burnout can include:
- Counselling or therapy: A safe space to process emotions and develop coping strategies.
- Respite care: Taking breaks to recharge and prevent exhaustion.
- Peer support groups: Connecting with other caregivers who understand the unique challenges.
- Practical adjustments: Learning to set boundaries, delegate tasks, and prioritize self-care.
- Accessing child-centred services: Allowing outside agencies to provide evidence-based support and interventions for your child
Caregiver burnout doesn’t mean you’re weak, it means you’ve been strong for too long without the support you deserve. The first step to healing is recognizing that you don’t have to do this alone.
There are supports in this province for parents feeling this way. If you’re struggling, please reach out. And most importantly, be kind to yourself. That worry bully in your head, the one telling you that you’re not doing enough? That’s a symptom of burnout. And symptoms can be treated.
You deserve support. You deserve kindness. You deserve to feel like you again.
And that starts with one small, brave step: Asking for help.
To all the incredible women out there; mothers, foster parents, caregivers, and advocates who are balancing the demands of raising neurodiverse children while maintaining a career, a home, and a sense of self, I see you. Your strength, love, and dedication are immeasurable, and your sacrifices do not go unnoticed. On this International Women’s Day, we celebrate you not just for what you do, but for who you are. Thank you for showing up, for pushing forward, and for proving every day that love, resilience, and advocacy can change lives.
If you or someone you know is experiencing caregiver burnout, here are some resources in New Brunswick that may help:
Family and Child Social Development Services – 1-833-733-7835
Foster Parent Support Group – FB page: FRFFA -Foster Parent Support (need a member to add you)
Mental Health & Wellness Services for Parents
Community Supports:
- Fredericton FASD Support Group
- Autism Connections Family Support Groups
- Need more Support? Call 211. This hotline will inform you about what supports exist in your community. It is available in 150+ languages, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.