For a lot of caregivers, the bathroom is the only door in the house that locks.

So you go in. You turn on the fan, because noise means you can't quite be heard and can't quite hear. You sit on the edge of the tub — not on your phone, not doing anything — and you get maybe four minutes before somebody calls your name.

And you're not even really alone in there. Half your attention is still out in the hallway, listening for the walker, listening for the back door. That's what people on the outside don't understand: it isn't only that you're busy. It's that you never fully come off shift.

Seneca wrote to a friend, "Retire into yourself as much as you can." Most of us hear that and picture something we don't have — a quiet weekend, an empty house, a trip somewhere. That's not what he meant. He was describing a room you carry with you: a few feet of interior space that doesn't require anyone's permission or cooperation to get into. Getting away is something other people have to grant you. This isn't.

In this episode, Esther draws on years of visiting caregivers in their homes — the ones whose eyes flicked toward the hallway every eight seconds, who laughed when asked about breaks and said "I don't even sleep hard anymore." She names the difference between a room you visit and one you move into permanently, and offers three ways to find a few feet of interior space this week.

The Stoic Caregiver book series — three short volumes, sixty lessons — is available at TheStoicCaregiver.com.