Carer Burnout: What it is, how it shows up and what you can do 

Caring for a child with disability often means carrying a lot — emotionally, mentally, and practically. Burnout isn’t a sign that you’re not coping. It’s a sign you’ve been doing far too much, for far too long, often without enough support or space to breathe. 

This article explains what burnout looks like for carers, why it happens, and some small, practical ways you can look after yourself without adding more pressure. It draws on insights shared by psychologist Mitch Woods from Maru Psychology during Belongside Families webinar End of Year Burnout.  

What is carer burnout (and how is it different from being tired)? 

Most parents feel tired. Carer burnout feels different. 

You might be moving towards burnout if you rest, but you don’t feel rested the next day. You might get some sleep, but still wake up feeling flat, foggy, or already overwhelmed. Over time, it can feel like you’re running on autopilot, getting through the day, but not really feeling present or connected to yourself. 

For some carers, burnout looks loud: irritability, emotional overload, feeling on edge. For others, it’s quieter: feeling numb, withdrawn, or just going through the motions. Neither is a personal failing. They’resigns your nervous system has been under sustained strain. 

Naming it, even quietly to yourself, is often the first step toward easing it. Noticing “I’m burnt out” creates a pause where you can choose something different, instead of pushing on automatically. 

Why burnout creeps in so quietly for carers 

Burnout rarely comes from one big thing. It builds slowly. 

Caring for a child with disability often involves constant planning, problem-solving and decision-making. There are appointments, school communication, therapies, medical needs, and the emotional labour that sits alongside all of it, often while putting your own needs last.  

Stress was never meant to be this constant. When it is, the nervous system stays switched on for too long, and burnout can follow.  

It’s especially common during busy periods or when routines shift — end-of-year events, holidays, therapy breaks, or seasons when support workers, school structures, or services temporarily pause. These transitions often catch families off-guard, increasing the emotional load at a time when energy is already low. 

Why guilt is so common and so unhelpful 

Many carers feel guilty for resting, saying no, cancelling plans, or wishing for space. That guilt doesn’t mean you’re selfish. It usually comes from a strong sense of responsibility, fear of letting others down, and the very real reality that your child depends on you. When you’ve been running in survival mode, slowing down can even feel unsafe. 

Guilt is an emotion, not a warning sign. You can feel guilty and still make choices that protect your wellbeing and your family’s needs. 

Sometimes it helps to gently challenge the fear behind the guilt:  Will this matter in a month? Have others said no to me before — did it change how I felt about them? 

Often, the worry when it comes to protecting our boundaries is much bigger than the actual impact. 

What can help: small, realistic strategies 

This isn’t about adding more tasks or ‘fixing’ burnout. It’s about small shifts that help steady your nervous system and reduce pressure where you can. 

Start with capacity, not expectations 

Before agreeing to something, pause and check in: “How much capacity do I honestly have right now?” You don’t have to decide in black and white.  

 Capacity-based decisions might look like: 

• Going for a short time instead of the whole event 
• Choosing quieter settings 
• Saying “not this time” without guilt 
• Asking for changes that make things more manageable 

You’re not opting out of life. You’re choosing the version that fits. And if you’re unsure, it’s okay to say: “Let me check and get back to you.” That small pause protects your energy. 

Tiny nervous system resets (that don’t become another job) 

Regulation doesn’t need an hour. Even a few minutes can help. 

This might be: 

• Sitting outside in silence for two minutes 
• Slow breathing while your feet are on the ground 
• Stretching or shaking out tension 
• A short mindfulness or grounding track (a simple audio that helps you slow your breathing and settle your body) 
• Making a cup of tea and actually pausing to drink it 

What matters most isn’t what you do, it’s letting your attention fully rest in the moment, instead of mentally running ahead to the next task.These tiny resets help teach your nervous system that it’s safe to slow down. 

Boundaries don’t have to be harsh 

You can be kind, clear, and still protect your energy. 

Simple scripts you can use 

• “Thanks so much for thinking of us, we can’t make it this time.” 
• “We’re keeping things pretty low-key for our family right now.” 
• “Let me check what will work for us and get back to you.” 
• “We might pop in briefly, but we may need to leave early.” 

You don’t owe detailed explanations. Keeping it simple often prevents pressure or pushback. 

Using values-based language (e.g. “we’re protecting our family’s energy right now”) is also helpful. This also helps to reduce decision fatigue so you’re not weighing up every situation from scratch. 

Planning for busy or overwhelming situations 

A bit of preparation can help families feel more settled and supported when things get busy: 

• Calling ahead to understand noise, crowds or accessibility 
• Bringing a small “go bag” with comfort or sensory items 
• Planning who leaves early if needed 
• Allowing extra transition time before and after events 
• Having a backup plan that reduces stress if things change 

 These aren’t ‘special requests’ — they’re reasonable adjustments that support everyone. And during times when structure disappears (school holidays, support breaks), leaning into what is available, rather than trying to replicate everything, can soften the load. 

If you’re feeling close to the edge 

If things feel overwhelming, you don’t need to solve everything at once. 

The first step is simply noticing: “I’m not okay right now.”

From there, support can start small: 

• Talk with one safe person 
• Book a GP appointment 
• Use a parenting or general support helpline when you need someone to talk to in the moment 
• Reach into peer support spaces where you don’t have to explain everything 

 Support doesn’t have to be perfect; it just has to be enough to help you get through the next stretch. 

A final reminder 

You were never meant to carry all of this alone.
Burnout isn’t a failure — it’s a signal.
Small pauses matter.
Small boundaries matter.
Connection matters.