Karon's story: I felt invisible

Karon has been caring for her mother for seven years.

Mum’s illness started when she kept falling down and her GP treated her for rheumatism. Actually both of her hips were diseased with osteoporosis and osteoarthritis and she had a total hip replacement in 2005. She developed severe cellulitus and the treatment for this has been long and painful. Her legs keep breaking out like a dam and have to be dressed and bathed. They look just like bubble-wrap. She can't bend down to fasten her shoes, or walk very far.

It's sad because she nursed her mum through Alzheimer’s for five years and now she has been struck down with this; I feel like she's been robbed. She’s always been very active; she was a barmaid, she loves dancing, gardening, decorating and coming round for a coffee – but she can't do any of that now.

Mum has a great sense of humour, but she has really low days. We laugh and joke but when she does break down, although I'm strong for her, when I go home it knocks me for six. I have been in a dark place and it's a horrible place to be, especially when you're on your own. I used to walk through the streets in the early hours of the morning in the pouring rain, just for a sense of calm. Something inside my head kept saying 'Karon, you can't go on like this'.

My family always look upon me to be strong. But I was crumbling

I used to feel paranoid and invisible, and angry with everyone. I'd put on an outfit and nothing would match. My hair was always tied back and I looked about 10 or 15 years older than I do now, because I was holding everything in. I was tired and alone - I felt very alone.

Caring has put a big strain on my relationship with my daughter, who had just started secondary school when my mum’s problems began. I have always made sure that her meals are there and her clothes clean, but bonding as a mother and daughter has been missing and I do sometimes feel really guilty about that.

It has affected my relationship with other members of my family too. When my mam went into hospital to have an operation, I was feeling really low and frightened. My brother started talking about something trivial and I turned to him and said ‘do you realise that I've got our mam dead and buried in my head?’. He just looked at me and walked away. I don't think he could handle what I was saying because my family always look upon me to be strong. But I was crumbling.

I hadn’t realised how much caring was affecting my mental health

Soon after my mum’s operation, I heard about Manchester Carers Centre. When I arrived I was greeted by Joan – she had a great big welcoming smile. I just burst into tears, but it was a great feeling. I was releasing all the tears that I had been holding back; in the hospital, in front of the doctors, in front of my own mam. I hadn’t realised how much caring was affecting my mental health.

I feel much more positive now, my mam’s problems are still there but I'm coping with them. I started coming to the coffee mornings this year and I feel a lot better. It's not all sad now; I feel happier with myself.

You have to be really strong to get out of that corner. But the day will eventually come when you look in the mirror and like what you see. You want to look nice again, and you want to match up your clothes; that was a sign for me that things were getting better.

Caring is more than just a job

Caring is more than just a job. It’s more than going for the prescriptions; it's more than doing the shopping or helping the person you care for dress. It’s a commitment to someone you love. It’s supporting their emotional and physical needs and helping them retain their pride and dignity.