I have cared for my son for 39 years.He was born in 1966 when medical diagnostics was not as it is today. We went through many periods of despair constantly being told that our son would not live to a full life expectancy. Although there was no clear diagnosis, it was like going through a bereavement - hopes, dreams and aspirations all snatched away.

My son went to Victoria Special School where we got a lot of good support. He went on to Star College for three years, then back at home into Birmingham Social Services day care. Family life was not as other families know it. It put a tremendous strain on siblings and other relationships.

There are times when you feel isolated, frustrated and angry because someone’s disability prevents you from doing the things you would like to do. Afterwards comes guilt, when you know it’s not their fault. My husband died 15 years go. It is so important for my son to be as independent as possible with a lot of support. One of my concerns now is my death and how my son will cope and what type of care he will receive. In spite of all this, I would never consider giving up my caring role.

I cared for my wife for many years supporting her through various health problems and then she developed alzheimers. Caring for someone you love so much gets very frustrating in the early stages when they ask the same question as many as 20 times in an hour and you do lose your temper sometimes. She is now in a home for the elderly mentally infirm and when I go and see her, she seems like a total stranger, not my wife of 46 years.

I feel mad, angry and worn out trying to find some meaning for my life when this kind of thing happens. In the end, I am all alone. But I have learned there is help out there and to shout for it until you get it - before you get to your wits end as I did. Do not face it alone. We are here to help and we have all gone through caring so we have a lot of experience as well as being sympathetic. Carers now have rights.

I care for my mother, and have done for more than 10 years

Mum suffered with arthritis for years and walked with two sticks, slowly and with difficulty. Two years after Dad died she had became very lonely in North Wales. I couldn’t visit often because I had three children and I worked.

When I separated from my husband, I asked if she wanted to come and live with me and that’s how it started. She’d already had knee replacement but one became infected and so she had it done again. Sod’s law that became infected too and as the infection spread, she had to have her leg amputated at the thigh and she’s been in a wheelchair since 2001.

She’s 88 now, reasonably mentally alert but ageing. I know I’ve given her a better quality of life and have nothing to reproach myself for but it doesn’t stop me feeling resentful sometimes because I am entitled to a life too, aren’t I? I had a demanding job and the strain of very long hours and caring caused a breakdown. I don’t feel like a pensioner and I want to enjoy myself before I get old but the demands on me increase and life isn’t fair but I won’t stop being a carer.

I have cared for my son for 23 years.

When he was two, I was told Keith was mentally retarded, it was unlikely he would ever walk unaided and he would probably spend his life in a wheelchair.Keith was fascinated by the washing machine and I spent hours making him walk one step at a time towards it, gradually increasing the number of steps he had to take. He proved the doctors wrong, can walk for miles and has never needed a wheelchair.

He is a lovely chap, always happy with a smile for everyone, but he does need 24 hour care which causes a lot of strain. My marriage failed when Keith was just eight and it wasn't until he was 19 that I received any respite care.

Everything seems to be a struggle. After 2 years of writing to Social Services for some respite I eventually contacted by MP. As if by magic I had a Social Worker within a week. I had to contact my MP again when Keith left Handsworth College and I needed another Social Worker.

Keith is very happy attending Ebrook Day Centre and loves socialising, bowling, swimming, keep fit, choir, cookery, tap dancing, going out for meals and going on holiday - what a great life

When my son was born, life was not that bad but as the years passed, the strain and stress has told on my health and restricted the family over the years. His sisters missed out a lot. This made me feel so guilty because time is precious and most of it was spent with my son. I get short tempered when my sleep is broken and get angry when I can't pacify him because I don't know if he is in pain or just being naughty.

As a carer, I find that I have to be aware of the changes in services and also do my best to relate to the professional people what his needs are and to convince people that he has learning difficulties which require patience and an understanding of the problems with arise in people with learning disabilities, especially when they have no form of speech. Things can change from a tantrum to a smile in seconds. I prefer the smile as it shows me he is happy.

Over 41 years I have met many people with similar or even worse problems than mine and it helps by talking and listening. As the saying goes, a problem shared is a problem halved so life becomes just a bit easier.

I have cared for my mother for around 40 years, since I was 9 years old. It seems like a lifetime. Throughout the last 12 years, I have generally been her sole carer.

When talking about mum, I strive to be objective and factual. This is hard to achieve sometimes as, by definition, it is hard not to be subjective. It is also difficult to write a short account of my caring experience due to the amount of hurdles I have faced over the years and the many different diagnoses my mother has had over the years.

My mother is one of the forgotten generation. She was first diagnosed in the late fifties, with what my father was told was paranoid schizophrenia – a phrase which still has the capacity to fill the listener with dread!

Today the diagnosis is ever-more complex, not to mention down-right confusing.

I give you Bi-polar Disorder with Schizophrenic tendencies, combined with Frontal Temporal Lobe Dementia plus Vascular Dementia.

Stress upon stress and so incredibly lonely.

What can I say that can be seen as good amongst a personal journey that seems best summed up as the nightmare years? One excellent Psychiatrist, one equally excellent Psychologist along with a wonderful Social Worker, Rethink and other carers.

And finding an inner strength.