when the world feels heavy: Navigating the uncertainty of parenting

There’s a different feel to some of my therapy appointments at the minute. Many clients come to me anxious about uncertainties in general life. We don’t have to look too far to find uncertainties right now, what with war torn conflict and keyboard warriors online. It would be disingenuous to claim that I understand the complexities of it all. What I do know is the uncomfortable feeling of uncertainty that simmers among many of us at the moment. 

There’s no doubt we can’t even begin to align our own despair with those desperately trying to survive ongoing conflicts.. Many of us cope by pretending its not happening or furiously scrolling past the traumatic images of suffering children on social media. I’m not here to judge how you respond to this, but I do think it’s worth being curious about that avoidance - as I would encourage anyone to be who avoids anything in the therapy room.

Closer to home, many worries come with uncertainties about our own children, worries that we might feel we have more control over. Things that are literally ‘closer’ to home. 

I received an email from my son’s (primary) school last week encouraging us to attend a SEND drop-in to gain insight into how to support our struggling kids emotionally. I also recently received an email  advising that any parent dropping a child late would be expected to explain why by means of an electronic system, and, after 3 late attendances, would be obliged to attend a meeting on punctuality. There was no real thought around the systemic and economic issues around mental health, and how that impacts on functioning. 

Sometimes I’m late to the school run. It’s not ideal but I don’t lose sleep over it, as I see it for what it is and apply context to each scenario. It wasn’t always like that, and often isn’t for many of my clients. 

Picture the scene… you’ve had a meltdown at breakfast because your child didn’t want the toast with butter on, your next child is full of anxiety as they don’t want to wear a costume for World Book Day, you are trying to pack your own bag for work and get a brush through your hair. Being late for the school drop off and then having to shamefully sign in is enough to warrant the day a write off.

I have my own bugbear with the school system. I am aware that I see this through my own lens, based on my own experiences with my daughter and the local council. But I’m certainly not in the minority- at least that’s what my clients tell me (and the dreaded class WhatsApp forum). 

The school system often feels broken – underfunded, overstretched and unfit for the complexity of our children’s needs (which were always there by the way). 

In some regard not much has changed- we might have an awareness that someone has difficulties with social interaction because of neurodiversity, or that someone might be struggling to keep up with the classroom tasks because of their limited concentration, but lack of resources prevents meaningful change.

 Our schoolgirls are still conditioned to be the ‘good girls’ and subconsciously suppress their needs to fit in, and when our boys can’t keep up they turn into the class clown as a way of defending their shame at not performing to targets. You might wonder at times “What kind of world are we handing over to our children? Will they be safe? Supported?”. 

These are all valid thoughts, but we need to confront feelings of hopelessness and find strategies to come back to ourselves and hold our ground, in spite of the uncertainty. 

Here are some ways to manage these worries using some of the principles I use in therapy: 

1/ Check the story you are telling yourself 

When the world feels overwhelming , our minds go straight to catastrophic thoughts. ‘My child has no hope’, ‘What’s the point in even challenging things?’ These thoughts can feel true but are often part of a biased mental filter: think of it as the opposite of rose tinted glasses. Zooming in on the perceived threat and filtering out the more hopeful insights. 

What can you do instead is try asking yourself

- What do I actually know to be true and what is the evidence for and against this way of thinking? 

- Can I offer a more balanced perspective? 

- Do I know any positive stories of how someone has coped at school recently? 

You might continue to believe the system is a flawed one, but you’ll arrive at a balanced take on what things might be like when they have a parent that cares and will sit alongside their child with any difficulties that arise.

2. Let go of the battle – even if temporarily 

This doesn’t mean ‘just stop worrying’ as we all know how irritating it can be when someone says that. Counterproductive too, actually. Some worries just aren’t solvable. You can’t single handedly fix education reform, for example.  Acceptance and Commitment Therapy teaches us that trying to eliminate or suppress every uncomfortable feelings or thoughts only makes things worse. Try noticing the worry: acknowledge and label it. You don’t have to be happy about it, or like it but you also don’t need to fight it. Think of such thoughts as passing through, not sticking to you. 

3. Take action based on your values

ACT reminds us that we can’t control the world but we can absolutely choose how we respond. What kind of person do you want to be in the face of uncertainty.? What do you care most about in this moment right now?  What small step can you take that moves you towards those values? Maybe that looks like advocating for your child in school or reading a bedtime story with them without the pressure of completing school homework when they are beyond exhausted? 

Remember worry is a natural response to a world that feels chaotic at times. But when that worry consumes us we need to return to what we can control: our actions and our values. You don’t need to wait for the world to change before making your corner of it a little more hopeful – whatever that looks like to you.