How Special Ed Parents Can Avoid "The Twisties" and Burnout During These Stressful Times
My Recipe is Exercise, Work, Friends, Pace, and Advocacy. And Beer.
“The Twisties” did her in.
Three days ago, Simone Biles stunned the world by dropping out of the team competition for gymnastics in the Olympics. She said that stress had messed with her head, causing her to lose track of her body in the air during her somersaults in the sky, a condition known as “the twisties.” She might still compete in the individual competition, which is leading to some shade on the Internet, but we’re not dealing with that now. Today, the topic is mental health for caregivers.
Like Simone Biles, parents of kids with disabilities are under high levels of pressure -- their kids have extreme needs; the system doesn’t work for them; there’s the neverending urgency to do therapy while brains are young and plastic. Add on the abandonment from the state and schools during this pandemic and you have all the makings of major parental twisties.
How do you know when you’ve hit your limit? For me, I know I’m burnt out when simple tasks, like going to the supermarket for a gallon of milk or writing a quick blog post, seem monumental. It would be nice to walk off the mat, do some interviews, and take a week off, but that’s not easy to do when you’re a high needs parent. If Steve’s busy with work, I have no back-up system.
Despite those challenges, parents have to put their oxygen mask on first. You can’t help others, if you are a mess. I have five tips for special needs parents, so they can keep their marbles when under a ton of pressure.
This is a simple one -- exercise. Find the time to move around outside or at the gym every single day. Set a routine and goals for yourself. Get a Fitbit. For the past two months, I’ve been running three miles every day. This is most intense exercise than I’ve gotten in years, and I’m beyond thrilled with myself. I did a 5K a few weeks ago, and I’m planning more for the fall.
Exercise is good for everyone’s mental health, but it’s particularly important if you are caring for someone else. They are so dependent on you that sometimes the boundaries between your body and theirs can feel blurred. Exercise can help you reclaim your body’s independence. As a bonus benefit, exercise, along with a good haircut and cute dress, will make you the hottest parent in town, which is very satisfying.
I was never awesome at mixing full time work with parenting. I left academia ten years ago, when my family responsibilities were too great, but I never stopped working. I transitioned to journalism and built a new flexible career. Sure, I hit a ceiling, because I can’t jump at every opportunity, but it’s still worth it.
Having a challenging, interesting job is essential to my mental health and self-definition. I need another identity beyond “parent” or “parent of a special needs kid.” Sure, those titles are definitely part of my job description, but it isn’t all I am or do. While I don’t pull in a ton of money -- flexible writers aren’t well compensated. Shocker, I know. -- I put my paychecks in a separate bank account and then blow it all on something special for the family, when I accumulate enough. I love to feel like I’m contributing monitarially to the common good.
I’m really lucky in so many ways, I know. I enjoyed being a professor, particularly my time in the classroom, but my first love was writing. I wrote for my college newspaper and always wrote little essays and stories. So, I’m happy with how things turned out. My experiences as a parent certainly inform my work as a writer, but raising a kid with autism cannot be everything that I do.
Have Cool Friends
On Tuesday night, I joined four friends at Trivia night at a local pub. Tonight, I’m taking the train to Hoboken, NJ to meet a high school buddy at a beer house. Sometimes Steve and I socialize separately, sometimes together, sometimes we drag Ian along. But the point is that we socialize.
Some friends are parents; others not. Some are special ed friends, the kind that likes to have fun. It’s nice to know people who get your situation. We went with two other families to a waterpark for the day last Sunday. Corinna, Elaine, and I drank cool beers in the shade, while the autistic young men and our husbands rode the roller coasters. We talked about special schools for the boys and vacation plans and home renovations.
Special ed parents often feel isolated, because they don’t fit into community activities. If your child doesn’t attend the local school or play in a soccer league, it’s harder to make friends. For me, that challenge has turned out to be an unexpected gift. I have had to be more creative about making friends and more open about connecting with people who are different from me.
A cool beer in the shade and some random chit-chat with girl friends is one of my favorite things in the world. It’s an essential part of my mental health.
In this week’s Atlantic, Annie Lowery writes, “American benefit programs are, as a whole, difficult and sometimes impossible for everyday citizens to use. Our public policy is crafted from red tape, entangling millions of people who are struggling to find a job, failing to feed their kids, sliding into poverty, or managing a disabling health condition.”
She doesn’t specifically mention disability issues and the barriers that parents face when trying to get services from state bureaucracies and school districts. That’s fine, because I’m writing a book about that.
Presently, I am dealing with endless paperwork getting Ian qualified for disability insurance. Even registering him with special services department at the local community college is a major hassle.
How am I dealing with all that crap? I pace myself. I make a list of everything that has to be done and then check off one thing a day. If I deal with bureaucracy nonsense for longer than one hour a day, I reward myself with a large glass of red wine and cheese/crackers in the evening. I’m allowed ALL THE CALORIES if I talk with the social security office.
For me, complaining in public is a major release valve for dealing with paperwork crap, inequities, and unfairness. I go to public meetings and talk. A lot. I am a regular presence at school board meetings. When our local community college totally fell apart during COVID, I figured out the names of the obscure political officials in charge; I wrote them letters and left messages on their facebook page.
Want to participate in your next school board meeting? I give some tips here. I explained on twitter how to ask your district about plans to address learning loss in the fall.
But one should not complain without contributing, so I set up a Facebook page of parents of special ed families in town with over 500 members. I volunteered for the Special Ed PTA. Last Friday, I organized a trip to the movies for a group of autistic boys.
Advocating and organizing helps me feel that I’m not alone. I am a strong believer in the value of democratic participation. If we all speak up, we can make changes.
Everyone’s path toward mental health is not the same. Socializing might not be your cup of tea. That’s fine! No judgments here. Just don’t forget your own mental health during these stressful times.
Ian is going to love this Ghost Busters sequel and the new Marvel movie, Shang-Chi.
The best dirt on the Royal Family is now coming through The Daily Beast and Page Six.
I’m keeping an eye on the situation in Northern Ireland.
Nice photo series in the New Yorker -- A Woman’s Intimate Record of Wyoming in the Early Twentieth Century
Finally, everyone is admitting that Emily Oster was right -- schools should have been the last places to close. (My position is that schools shut down at the right time, but they should have opened up again very quickly, especially for the most vulnerable kids. Now, schools should be supplementing like crazy, but they aren’t.) She’s tweeting today about the low risk of COVID to kids.
Looks like we’re going to have to wear masks in public spaces again. Masks don’t really bother me, so I don’t care. I have been occasionally putting them back on again anyway. As long as they keep schools open, I’m fine with the masks.
Noah Smith has a good newsletter post about a new class that he sees emerging — The Haut Precariat.
There’s another class — people raised middle- or upper-middle class, but… have failed to get on either the income ladder of high-paying yuppie jobs or the wealth ladder of homeownership, and who are thus perpetually in danger of falling down out of the class into which they were born. I want to call these people the haut precariat.
Smith said this group has been crippled by student loan debt, the Great Recession, the overproduction of elites, and the ridiculous home values around major cities. Despite their quality education and wealthy families, they are in danger of slipping down on the income ladder. (Steve, read this, so we can chat about it at dinner tonight.)
Gawker is back, so now I know all about the latest style in Hollywood nose jobs.
Best tweet that I read this week and forgot where it came from went something like… “My friend came out as trans last year. This year, he came out as autistic, so he really came out as trains.”
Shopping: The construction is still going on here, so most of my recent purchases have been for things like outdoor plug covers. I also have been eyeing Moroccan and Turkish things on Etsy. Because we’re making homemade pasta as the Sunday treat meal, I got a cute drying rack. I found some very inexpensive purse straps on Amazon.
Pictures: We took Ian to Dorney Park -- a water park -- in Pennsylvania this weekend. We met up with a couple other families with autistic young adults. On the way back, we stopped in Easton, a town along the Delaware River, where we had a nice meal and cool beer. Very fun.