I update my mobile phone whenever there is a new software update. Years working in the cybersecurity sector has made me suitably paranoid so I dutifully updated my phone to the latest Operating System. As it came back to life, I saw that I had a new app on my home screen – a new icon called ‘Journal’. I clicked on it and saw that the Apple corporation was encouraging me to be mindful and make me a better person.

I don’t journal or meditate, I have nothing against those things, I just don’t have time for such things as a working carer. Curiosity got the better of me on this occasion and scrolled through the prompts and suggestions in this new app. A question flashed up on the screen: When was the last time you did something that brought you joy? How can you do more of it?

Good question, iPhone. I’ve recently come back from my great escape to Australia which was joyful. Not something I can do more of for obvious working, caring, and budgeting reasons. Apart from that, I can’t think of anything. I don’t do anything I find particularly joyful. I work and I look after grandma – that’s it. No time for anything else. Next question.

Who is someone who can always make you laugh out loud?

Grandma is always a good source of laughter. Last week she answered the door twice in an hour, mistaking the door bell in her TV drama for our real doorbell. She is unintentionally hilarious, which is the best kind.

What is a talent of yours that you may take for granted?

A hidden talent? I don’t have any. I do have the ability to find anything interesting and make a good story out of it – but that’s boring and it is my job. I also used to sing in choirs, I can hold a note but I wouldn’t say I have a talent.

What’s a decision you wish you could take back? What did you learn?

Hmmm…how honest are we being here, phone? I wish pretty regularly that I never agreed to come up to help with grandma nearly 4 years ago, leaving me trapped. I don’t think I’m evolved enough yet to be grateful for my situation and shaping who I am today. I have learnt a lot about resilience, caring for the elderly, the power of community, and that there is a point beyond burnout.

What’s a thought that keeps you up at night? How would a wise friend address worry?

ONE thing?! Impossible to narrow down, I worry about everything. Big or small; important or not. I suspect a wise friend would feed me a valium.

This is all a bit gloomy, isn’t it? And I admit, I’m not really taking this seriously. I see the value in these types of questions, I do really. I’m just not in the right frame of mind to engage with them. As a carer, my needs are more immediate and concrete. For example, will I have time to eat today? I will feed everyone else before myself which is, incidentally, a great metaphor for being a carer.

You deny yourself and your needs to such an extent, that you can’t even think back or remember what you like, what you want, or when the last time you did something that made you happy. The simple answer is: I don’t know. I can’t remember. Since becoming a carer, I feel my soul is constantly downtrodden, like a foot print in long grass – it takes a while for the flattened grass to spring back up. I’m currently in the ‘flat grass’ stage, firmly and consistently being trampled, and I will need some time to rebound when the squashing stops.

So, before I can answer these fancy journaling questions, I suppose my goal for his year would be to ensure my basic needs are met at least some of the time. With that, I’m going to go make myself a snack.