I first realised I was a young carer when I was twelve. After mum was diagnosed, I had
to help her get washed and dressed…make her take her tablets…cook three meals every
day…as well as having school and homework. No breaks, no days off. It felt like I was
lost, and alone...with no way Out of the Woods.
I think I knew there were other young carers like me out there…but I didn’t know how
to find them or talk to them. And my other friends called me horrible names…they thought
I was stuck-up…because none of them understood why I couldn’t go out and have fun. When
I moved schools in year ten…I ended up keeping it a secret altogether.
Being a young carer means worrying. About not knowing my future. About mum not taking
her tablets. Getting to school on time…getting to sleep at night…Being judged…being alone…and
all the time, mum’s pain is getting worse and worse, and there’s never going to be
anything I can do to actually make her better.
At one point…I even wished I’d been born into a normal family! I felt so guilty that
had even crossed my mind, because I love my mum so much….and she knows she’s the one
who’s supposed to be taking care of me. But that doesn’t change anything.
Even when I didn’t have the energy left to pick up a finger, I couldn’t worry about
my own health, because I had to keep going…on my own...eventually it felt like I’d just
hit a wall, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to hold it together any more.
I wouldn’t have known what to say to a GP even if I’d been brave enough to go!
I was too scared to even wish for any help, in case I got disappointed.
But then one day, a teacher
asked me why I was upset...and it all just came out. She told me about a Young Carer’s
Project…and suddenly, there were people I could talk to. New friends I could make.
I wasn’t alone. They even arranged extra help for my mum, and I felt like there’d
been a load of bricks lifted off my chest.
It was scary at first, but just having someone to talk to who understood was such a relief.
I stopped worrying about school so much, and started to believe everything might be ok.
I felt like I could be in control of my life again. I could be safe, happy, and maybe even
change the world! I didn’t choose for things to be like this, but the strange thing is…
now I wouldn’t have it any other way.
If I could say anything to young carers who might be afraid to ask for help…I’d tell
them they should never, ever feel ashamed or scared to speak up. It may seem tough or
hopeless, or like you’ll never be able to smile again … but it gets better, you’ll
make amazing friends, and the challenge will make you stronger. There’s a light that
can be found. There is a way out of the woods.