If there is one message I repeat most often, it is this: you cannot pour from an empty cup. I am Julie Crawshay, and learning to care for myself while caring for my husband through glioblastoma was one of the hardest and most important lessons of my caregiving journey.

Why self-care feels impossible

When someone you love is seriously ill, taking time for yourself can feel selfish — even wrong. But running yourself into exhaustion helps no one. Sustained caregiving requires rest, support and moments of relief. Self-care is not a betrayal of the person you love; it is what allows you to keep showing up for them.

Small acts that refill the cup

Self-care does not have to be grand. A walk, a proper night's sleep, a conversation with someone who understands, a few minutes of quiet. For me, training for the Sydney Marathon and writing for The Neuro Farmacist became ways to refill mine.

Asking for and accepting help

Letting others help is a form of self-care. So is seeking your own support network or counselling. Many neuro-oncology centres can point caregivers toward services, and communities like @the_neuro_farmacist exist precisely so you do not carry it alone.

Caring for yourself is not the opposite of caring for someone else. It is the foundation that makes it possible.