Take care of yourself first of all

 November 2006

Far, far away, in the land of king and queens, there is a tale of sorrow, a tale of hopelessness.

It does not begin with “Once upon a time” nor does it end with “happily ever after”. It’s a modern day Shakespearean tragedy.

On a Sunday afternoon in April, Alison Davies and her 12-year-old son, Ryan, leapt to their deaths from the HumberBridge, in England, leaving behind only a short note for family, "Don't worry about me. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to fail Ryan any more. I wish you all the happiness you truly deserve. Alison."

Davies had a history of depression, combine that with the fact that she was a single parent and primary caregiver of a child like mine, who has Fragile X Syndrome, and the consequences were ultimately tragic.

It’s a story that has haunted me since the first news release that told of their journey. I cried then, and I still cry now.

I never felt anger towards Davies; I only felt sorrow and empathy for Alison, Ryan and their family. To be frank, I felt relieved that I have never experienced that level of desperation.

My anger with this story was always directed towards the lack of social services -- support that could have been available that might have changed the outcome.

Sadly, the lack of services and support is not unique to England, nor does it apply only to children with developmental disabilities.

Davies family tried to ease her burden as much as possible but what she really needed was support that would have enabled her to independently care for her son -- and most importantly care for herself.

Whether you listen to Dr. Laura or Dr. Phil there is a common message when it comes to caring for your family, especially when caring for an individual with a disability or a chronic illness.

The message is to take care of yourself first.

Everyone needs a break. Everyone needs time away from there situations, which can be emotionally and physically draining. I’d be surprised if there was even one person who read this column who couldn’t identify at least one person who carriers an unusually heavy burden.

I’ve survived, and my marriage has survived, because I’ve recognized the benefit of respite. My husband and I often have date nights.

We started when the children were babies, which enabled them to adjust to sitters and being left in the care of others.

There is nothing better for my soul and sanity than being able to occasionally turn my back on the portion of my life that can be so demanding.

Yet, there are many caregivers who never have that opportunity. It’s a two-fold problem. 

First, there are not enough programs available that provide this service and money is often tight in families with children with disabilities due to extra costs.

Second, many caregivers are reluctant to ask for help or they feel it would be too much of a burden for someone else to carry.

We are approaching the giving season and a season in which depression, for some, will intensify.

This holiday season think about giving a gift that may really matter. Think about giving your time to provide a little respite to a caregiver who might be in dire need of it.

Taking care of each other is not the sole responsibility of social services; it’s the responsibility of every one of us. As an individual, organization or government service, we can all make a difference.

In the end, it might make all the difference in the world.