The Quiet Collapse: Why Caregiver Burnout Isn’t About Time
It is 10 PM, and your shoulders are rigid. They are always rigid now. The light from the screen-a medication refill portal for your mother, optimized for maximum confusion-is cold against the skin above your clavicle. You’re wrestling with a $47 co-pay discrepancy on a generic that should be $7. This is the fourth time tonight you’ve had to use the phrase “prior authorization,” and it tastes like metal.
And then, your spouse walks in. “How was your day?” they ask, for the third time since 7 PM, maybe hoping you’ve finally processed enough data to give them something better than the blank stare you offered at dinner. You look back at the screen, at the blinking cursor demanding a pharmacy address, and realize: I have no idea what I did today besides ‘care’.
We talk about caregiver burnout in transactional terms-too many tasks, not enough hours. We treat the exhaustion like a



















