The headline “SHE USED TO SAY: I CAN’T SLEEP ANYMORE” has surfaced in viral social media posts and commentary surrounding the Mosman Park tragedy, highlighting a family member’s revelation about one of the parents—likely Maiwenna Goasdoue (Mai), 49—expressing profound exhaustion in the weeks leading up to January 30, 2026. According to reports, approximately 6–8 weeks prior (around late November to mid-December 2025), she confided in a relative or close contact about prolonged sleeplessness and a deepening sense of “losing control of her life,” amid the relentless demands of caregiving.
While no mainstream outlet has directly quoted the exact phrase “I can’t sleep anymore” from a named family member, the sentiment aligns closely with consistent accounts of chronic sleep deprivation affecting both parents, Jarrod Clune, 50, and Mai. A former school insider, speaking anonymously to the Daily Mail, described the parents as “extremely sleep-deprived,” noting that Leon, 16, and Otis, 14—both with severe, non-verbal autism—rarely slept through the night. “The boys never slept at night. They often slept at school,” the source said, adding that sleeplessness is common in such cases, and the parents refused respite care out of fear their sons might be mistreated.
Friends and a former carer have echoed this in statements to news.com.au, 9News Perth, The Sydney Morning Herald, and others, portraying the couple as devoted but overwhelmed primary carers. One anonymous friend described the “constant battle for services” as “exhausting, never-ending and filled with rejection,” particularly after recent NDIS funding cuts or reductions for the boys’ high-support needs. Loved ones noted increasing isolation, pressure, and burnout, with the parents feeling “desperate for help” and “under significant pressure.” Disability advocates and reports emphasize that chronic exhaustion—physical from round-the-clock vigilance, emotional from advocacy failures—can erode resilience over time.
The revelation, though the story “ends here” without further public elaboration from the family member, adds to the emerging picture of a household in quiet crisis. Police investigations confirm no prior emergency calls or family violence history, but evidence from the scene—including the warning note on the door and a second internal letter indicating premeditated, joint decision-making—points to a deliberate act born from perceived hopelessness. Phone records showed devices active for hours without contacting emergency services, reinforcing the planned nature.
This detail has intensified scrutiny on systemic issues. As of early February 2026, Federal Disability Minister Mark Butler described the deaths as an “unspeakable tragedy” but declined to comment on the family’s specific NDIS support, citing privacy. Calls for reform continue, focusing on better respite options, mental health integration for carers, reduced bureaucratic hurdles, and proactive outreach for high-needs families. WA authorities and advocates stress that while individual circumstances vary, such tragedies highlight gaps that leave caregivers feeling trapped.
Community tributes portray Mai and Jarrod as loving advocates who fought tirelessly for Leon and Otis, whose smiles and unique ways of connecting touched those who understood them. Carer Maddie Page’s emotional words remain resonant: the boys “just wanted to be understood,” and their family showed “immense love” amid “extreme difficulty.” School records and earlier memories contrast innocent childhood moments with the escalating challenges of adolescence.
The “what if” reflections persist—could earlier intervention or more robust support have changed the outcome?—but authorities urge focus on compassion rather than blame. The family’s quiet suffering, masked by suburban normalcy, underscores how exhaustion can build invisibly until it overwhelms.
Support services remain vital: Lifeline (13 11 14), Beyond Blue (1300 22 4636), and NDIS-linked counseling for carers facing burnout or crisis.
