Managing the Chronic Stress of Parenting during COVID

There’s a lot that I’m not intimidated by. While I’m naturally a bit introverted, I’ve worked hard to talk in front of groups fairly comfortably. I’m not scared of Atlanta’s parking garages, elevators, or boats (unlike certain family members). I don’t enjoy shopping, but I can hit up an Ikea and come out alive and well. In my therapy practice, I can comfortably help clients tackle sticky issues like challenging relationships, infertility, abortion, depression, grief, and trauma. But what puts fear in my heart?
The idea of being in counseling with my parents.
And I’m not the only one. Quite often when I’m working with a kid or teen, I mention that a few family counseling sessions might help with improving communication or clarifying expectations or figuring out how to respectfully disagree with one another. And then I watch those teens as their faces go from open and interested and curious (because after all, teens are awesome if you’re not their parents) to shut-down, please-Dana-don’t-make-me-you-must-be-crazy-if-you-think-I’ll-do-that.
And I get it. Family therapy can be intimidating. Kids worry they’re going to get teamed up on or lectured. Often they hate their parents seeing them emotional and would really rather not cry in front of their parents. Teens already recognize there’s a lot they don’t control in their lives, and family counseling can appear—at first—to be another place where they won’t have control or a voice.
And yet. And yet. Family counseling can be powerful: healing, reinforcing and strengthening relationships, shifting communication patterns to be more healthy and constructive, and building trust and mutual respect. Kids and teens find they have a voice and relax as they see their parents listening to them; parents find that their kids can hear them differently through family therapy. Together, we make strides to strengthen the family. Because at the end of the day, none of us lives in a vacuum. We’re all connected. So let’s work on being connected in healthy, happy ways… even if it’s intimidating at first.
It’s hard to turn on the news in Atlanta right now without hearing about the new anti-abortion bill that’s been passed in Georgia or anti-abortion legislation in other states like Alabama. This legislation fires up people of all beliefs and backgrounds. But it can also be triggering—if not outright re-traumatizing—to women who have made the difficult choice to have an abortion.
And most of the women who find themselves stirred up by all the talk about abortion will likely stay silent. Talking about abortion is still taboo even though an estimated one in four women will have an abortion during their lifetime. For many women, a past abortion is a secret they don’t share out of fear of judgment or because of judgment they impose on themselves. As a result, there can be tremendous shame, guilt, and unresolved grief—often leading to isolation, depression, and increased anxiety.
Grief? Yes grief. It’s totally normal for women who have abortions to need to grieve. Unfortunately it’s also perfectly normal for women to believe they “shouldn’t” need to grieve. But abortion is complicated for many women, a difficult choice at a difficult moment in their lives. Grief is normal and natural.
We know that the antidote to shame and unresolved grief is speaking our truths—the messy, complicated truths—to safe people in safe places. As abortion continues to be a political issue, I sincerely hope that all who have actually experienced an abortion are surrounded by comfort, love, and support. You are not alone.
I’m not into fashion (obviously, my clients would say) but the suicide of designer Kate Spade was big enough news to enter my orbit last week. I was still reeling from
the news, as I do with any news of a suicide, wrestling with the same questions as everyone else – namely, how can someone look so successful and yet feel so terrible as to take their life? – when chef Anthony Bourdain killed himself.
It’s so easy to believe that loads of money or fame or professional recognition should or would inoculate any of us from isolation and despair. But these tragic deaths are reminders that depression and suicidal thoughts don’t just hit those of us down on our luck. Financial wealth is not a guarantee of happiness or ease. Fame is not a guarantee of happiness or ease. Depression is real, and needs real treatment. There are myths about depression that are widespread, but it’s important to know the facts.
The writer Andrew Solomon’s book about depression, The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression, chronicles his experiences with depression and those of others – as well as looking at various treatments and interventions. For clients, the stories Solomon tells are a reminder that depression – as terrible as it can be – doesn’t have to stay a stagnant part of life. Things can get better.
The New York Times Magazine cover story this past week was about teens and anxiety. Yay!
And it’s not that I’m a sicko who takes pleasure from other people’s suffering.
Rather, it’s nice to see attention focused on what’s been obvious in my office: that many teens — delightful, smart, precocious, thoughtful teens — are really struggling in profound ways. Self-harm is one way that this struggle shows up. A struggle to get to school is another big way this shows up. And it puts parents in a huge bind over what to do.
Here’s what I want you to know. Anxiety is terrible, and the impulse is to avoid anxiety by avoiding what makes us anxious. But as this article mentions, avoidance generally makes things worse. What helps? Looking at and re-writing thoughts, coping skills for calming the body and mind, and practice showing up for things that feel scary — like school.
My heart has been hurting these past few weeks as I’ve been following a terrible story unfolding in the news. A teen was suicidal; his girlfriend urged him, via text messages, to actually kill himself. He did. She’s now been found guilty of involuntary manslaughter.
Everything about this story is awful, and this tragedy likely could have been avoided. Many people experience thoughts of “I just want this to end” at some point in their lives, and we know that most people who survive suicide attempts and live to recover from depression end up incredibly glad that they are alive.
Based on my professional experience, I want to mention a few specific points that are important for us all to know:
I’ve just listened to the first two episodes of The Hilarious World of Depression, a podcast series that interviews comedians about their struggles with depression, anxiety, and related mental health concerns. Weird combo? Yes. Does it work? From what I can tell, it sure does.
But you can judge for yourself. I’d love to hear what you think the podcast gets right — and wrong — about depression.