I’ve walked people into therapy rooms.
I’ve sat across from psychiatrists.
I’ve filled prescriptions, listened to breakdowns, cancelled my own life to care for someone else’s.
But here’s what no one tells you about being a full-time carer to someone with depression:
No one checks on the caregiver.
Not because they don’t care.
But because we look strong. Because we keep functioning.
I was still building a startup.
Still showing up to investor calls.
Still replying to emails, pushing features, holding it together.
But inside, I was fading.
Not all at once but gradually, like a light dimming with each passing day.
On the outside, I was “managing.”
I answered emails. I pushed product. I smiled in Zoom calls.
But inside, I was exhausted in ways sleep couldn’t fix.
The weight of someone else’s mental illness is invisible.
It doesn’t show up on a CT scan. It doesn’t leave bruises.
But it lives in your nervous system.
It piles up in quiet sacrifices, in cancelled plans, in swallowing your own breakdowns because theirs felt more urgent.
You become the anchor for someone else’s storm;
Until you realize you're drowning too, but holding yourself down so they can breathe.
And when you’re also a founder, your own pain becomes an afterthought; something to be “dealt with later.”
But “later” never came.
It just turned into numbness. Then burnout. Then breakdown.
If you’re reading this and you’re caring for someone else’s mind—while slowly losing your own
I see you.
And I want to talk, feel free to DM or connect
You’re not weak. You’re just tired.
You’re not alone. You’ve just been silent too long.
Let’s change that.
#MentalHealth #FounderWellbeing #StartupLife #DepressionAwareness #MentalHealthMatters #Founders #Resilience #EmotionalHealth #BurnoutRecovery
