Left Holding the Bag: The Lonely Side of Caregiving in Dysfunctional Families

Caregiving can be an act of love, but for many adults from dysfunctional families, it can also feel like an act of survival. When illness strikes, the existing cracks in family relationships widen and old resentments resurface. People who were already carrying the emotional weight of the family may feel pressured to take on the physical caregiving too. And those who end up managing all the logistical tasks often feel abandoned, angry, and deeply lonely.

James

James is the oldest of three siblings. His parents went through a brutal, drawn-out divorce when he was in his late twenties, and now his mother has cancer. His sisters won’t help take care of her. They live in another state.

James isn’t especially close to his mother, but since he’s the only one living nearby, he drives her to doctor appointments, shows up for middle-of-the-night ER visits, cooks meals, and cleans her house on weekends.

It’s not that James doesn’t want to care for his mother. It’s that he feels like the only one carrying the load. The work is isolating. There’s no one to tag in when he needs a break. And because his siblings are far away, he also feels like no one understands what it costs him to show up day after day.

Lisa and Claire

Lisa and Claire are 18 months apart, and they’ve always been the “responsible” ones. While their brother James seemed to skate by, they grew up as the emotional caretakers in the family, listening to their mother’s venting, smoothing over conflicts, remembering birthdays, and organizing family holidays.

After their parents’ divorce, the emotional labor doubled. Eventually, they moved away together. Putting distance between themselves and the family was the only way they could reclaim their own lives.

Now, with their mother sick, they feel trapped between guilt and self-preservation. Returning home to provide hands-on care would mean slipping back into a role that drained them for decades. And with children and partners depending on them now, the cost feels unbearable.

Lisa and Claire do care. They make phone calls, send money, and check in from afar. But they resent the way James minimizes their contributions and ignores the lifetime of caretaking they already gave. They know if they came home, he’d likely disappear into the background again.

Why Caregiving Feels So Lonely in Dysfunctional Families

When families are fractured, caregiving rarely feels balanced or collaborative. Instead, it plays out in familiar patterns:

• The default caregiver: often the child who lives closest, doesn’t set boundaries, or has historically carried the family’s burdens.
• The distant siblings: sometimes absent out of avoidance, self-preservation, or genuine inability to step in.
• The resentment loop: each side feeling abandoned, misunderstood, or unappreciated, with little room for honest conversation about limits.

Research shows that caregivers in strained families are more likely to report feeling isolated, resentful, and unsupported compared to those in cohesive families. Without shared responsibility, the caregiver role can feel like a punishment rather than a choice.

The Double Bind of “Caring or Not Caring”

For someone like James, showing up feels lonely and exhausting. For Lisa and Claire, staying away feels guilt-inducing and shameful. Both positions are isolating and can trigger resentment of siblings, of the sick parent, and of the family system that made these roles feel inevitable.

James needs to work on setting his own boundaries, recruiting help, and understanding his sisters’ positions. Claire and Lisa need to understand that even if James wasn’t there before, he is here now, and it can still be hard for him. The more these siblings work to understand the challenges they face, the less loneliness they will experience.

Moving Toward Support

If you’re caught in this dynamic, remember:

• Caregiving does not erase history. It’s okay if your past with a parent complicates how you feel about helping them now.
• Your limits are valid. Providing care doesn’t always mean being physically present. Emotional support, financial help, or simply maintaining your own boundaries can all be legitimate forms of contribution.
• You don’t have to do this alone. Community resources, paid help, friends, and other family can help fill the gap.