Behind closed doors:

Caring for a loved one with a mental health condition

Becoming one of the estimated 5.8 million unpaid carers in the UK was not something I saw coming. I married my husband as he left the military and for me that was the start and end of my military experience, so eight years later, when my husband was diagnosed with complex mental health conditions as a result of his military career, I was not prepared for a role as a carer nor in understanding military injury and it’s far reaching impact. 

After struggling for a long time to get the right help, my reaction when my husband did receive his initial diagnosis, was relief; believing now he could get help, things would improve. What I wasn’t prepared for, was the hard work of what getting that help would mean for us all. It was a whirlwind I didn’t understand, and a very steep learning curve. 

Initially finding both the information to help and the right professionals was really difficult. 

Alongside that came the realisation that there were no quick fixes and the husband I had married and the husband I lived with now were two very different people.  I had to learn a new way of being a wife and a carer and also continue to raise the family we had.

We are now eight years after initial diagnosis, and whilst the rollercoaster is less dramatic, the reality behind closed doors is that caring for someone with a mental health condition is unpredictable. Some days are good - with laughter, hope, and progress. Other days are not, and the impact of those difficult days reverberates to the whole family. 

We have had to learn to live differently; to be aware of the environments we are entering and the potential for triggers or problems. We always have an exit plan, and an excuse why we can’t do something. Not everyone understands the journey, and managing other people’s expectations has been part of the challenge. 

The biggest struggle for me is that caring for a loved one with mental health injuries is unpredictable. I’m a planner and like to know what’s happening and when. With the best will in the world, you just can’t plan for every crisis. Nine times out of ten, we manage the medication, environments, we know what to do when his brain is over stimulated or shut down, we have crisis plans and know who to contact. But even now, there’s that 10% that catches you off guard; the wrong medication taken by accident, the family emergency that you couldn’t prepare for or the trigger that you never knew about.  

Unfortunately being a carer doesn’t mean I can fix everything, more often than not, it’s

understanding what’s broken and holding space with that. My job isn’t to be a therapist or take responsibility for my husband’s health, it’s to support him on his journey to recovery, even if he makes choices I wouldn’t make. Sometimes when it’s not okay, the best things I can do is take myself away, be the carer to my own needs, and ask for the same for my kids. 

Caring does have it’s tough days, but with that also comes the knowledge that we are better people for it. 

As a family, kindness is the biggest win. We celebrate positive family moments, and whilst we don’t have the holidays I would have aspired to; the hot chocolate on a walk, or the chips on a beach or the photograph where everyone smiles hold deep value. 

Finding a support network that works for you is the biggest step of the journey and knowing there are people who understand makes the world of difference. If you are caring for a loved one who has service attributable injuries, you’re not alone. There is support, and we’d love to tell you more about it.