PARENTAL BURNOUT, AUTISM AND MODERN MOTHERHOOD: A QUIET CRISIS
By Jodi Wilson
New research suggests that burnout isn’t solely dictated by profession or connected to the workplace. Parental burnout is now considered a clinical phenomenon and has been reported across global communities.
Autistic burnout is also expected for those who receive a diagnosis later in life and is often the catalyst for seeking a diagnosis. For many autistic people, it is also recurring and impacts functioning, mental health, quality of life and wellbeing.
Allison Davies, a neurologic music therapist who works with neurodivergent people, reiterates that a life spent trying to fit in is a life where you don’t belong. ‘This is a normal experience for autistic people. Because we live in systems that don’t meet our needs, we’re constantly trying to keep up with the pace of others and adhering to neuronormativity. The burnout comes from that – whether it’s before or after a diagnosis.’
Questioning whether you’re neurotypical can happen at any time, but there are often triggers – and for new parents, postpartum is one of them. The sudden loss of routine coupled with sensory overload can push them outside their window of tolerance. When reliable structures no longer exist, self-managing or masking becomes increasingly difficult, and the burden on the body is significant, resulting in profound fatigue and sometimes co-occurring health conditions.
One study of 42 countries shows that the highest prevalence rates of parental burnout are in Western countries, where there are high expectations of parents yet low levels of social support. For mothers in particular, the work is round the clock and relentless; the maternal brain may be more resilient to stress and boredom, but parenting was never designed to be a solo effort.
In heterosexual relationships, the mother is typically responsible for the primary care load throughout the day, evening, night and into what’s known as the woman’s ‘fourth shift’: overnight and into the next morning. For most of our evolutionary history, we have lived in small groups where alloparenting was the norm.
Newborn babies as young as three weeks old were cared for by adults other than the parents for up to 40 per cent of the time. This is the ‘village’ we’re currently missing, and it’s contributing to burnout and increasing rates of loneliness and mental illness.
A break away from family life – reprieve in the form of 24 hours alone in a hotel room – is a dream, and some new mothers feel so desperate for an enforced rest that they consider a minor car accident or a broken limb to justify an unexpected but relatively peaceful hospital stay. It even has a name: ‘the hospital fantasy’.
I know this deep exhaustion coupled with almighty responsibility and obligation well. And now, a little further into my parenting journey, I know that the only way to create breathing space in those intense and physically arduous early years – where you’re always juggling, one way or another – is to make it a priority, to carve it out in the middle of things, to find some space among the chaos.
It means turning away from the work – which is never actually ‘done’ – and choosing instead to move or breathe or rest. ‘Yes,’ you may think, ‘that’s exactly what I need to do,’ but doing it may be a little harder, because the symptoms of parental burnout make executive functioning – firm and intentional decision‑making followed by actionable steps – quite difficult.
And it’s about this time that many mothers will look at the mess of the family home, think they should be reading to their child or taking them to the park, feel guilty that they can’t do any of these things and perhaps begin to question their worth (this is the insidious and harmful nature of shame when we compare our everyday reality with the idealised images of motherhood).
In my extensive research as a health journalist, perinatal health specialists collectively agree that it’s never been harder to be a mother; the increasing mental health issues aren’t so much psychological conditions but a normal human response to a highly stressful situation.
There are many big influences at play here, including a lack of reverence and respect for new parents, as evidenced in the perpetuation of the ‘perfect mother’ myth, and a significant lack of social support.
Resulting from chronic parental stress, the four main symptoms of parental burnout are:
1. physical and/or emotional exhaustion
2. questioning the quality of our parenting, or feeling shame that we’re not good enough
3. feeling overwhelmed with responsibility and the relentlessness of it
4. difficulty bonding with our baby.
A capitalist society – particularly one focused on progress and productivity – benefits immensely from good people striving to do good things. The drive to work, to achieve and perfect, to tick the boxes and take care of everyone and everything is deeply rooted in women in particular. Unpicking this hardwired belief is a practical way to prioritise the breathing space you know you need.
This space is beneficial for children, too. There’s a correlation between less time ‘being’ in nature – playing freely, roaming, exploring – and declining mental health for children and teenagers.
REST REQUIRES SELF‑COMPASSION
Workplace, creative and parental burnout require the same remedy: rest. But first this requires self‑compassion.
In her 2019 survey ‘The Rest Test’, psychologist and BBC radio presenter Claudia Hammond found that for many people rest was associated with anxiety and guilt.
You probably know that niggling sense of I should be doing this that prevents you from taking time out. When there’s so much to do and so few opportunities to do it, how can we prioritise moments and hours of conscious rest?
What helps is a very clear understanding of how our brain works and what it requires to function well. With this understanding comes a solid connection: rest eventually equates to clear thinking and problem‑solving – in other words, productivity.
The truth is, we’re not very good at taking care of ourselves, at prioritising what’s physiologically and psychologically beneficial. And perhaps that’s because when time is pressing and obligations are rife, the easiest thing to drop is what seems most superfluous. Therein lies our collective dilemma – valuing the small moments of care enough to cherish them takes considered effort (and the will to protect them when life gets in the way).
But here’s the thing, you don’t have to have all the answers to know that you need care. And it may seem totally self‑indulgent at a time when the world’s problems are gnawing at us regardless of our perceived distance from them. Is it even morally appropriate for us, in our near perpetual comfort, to create even more space for ourselves?
I think it is, because it fortifies us against adversity and burnout. It’s what we need to navigate normal, everyday life and to advocate for social and political change.
Five ways to navigate feeling overwhelmed as a parent
1. Admit that you’re overwhelmed
Say it out loud: ‘This is really hard, I feel really stressed’ (this fosters self‑awareness) and then remind yourself that a hard day doesn’t necessarily mean it will be a hard week. It’s also helpful to acknowledge that parenting today is innately challenging.
Feeling overwhelmed is not a reflection of your ability or effort. You’re not flawed, you’re a human, likely caring for a baby with minimal support. We were never meant to parent this way.
2. Cultivate a mindset of surrender
There’s a lot you can’t control in parenthood, but you can practise self‑compassion, which looks like lowering your ideals, embracing a ‘good‑enough’ mindset and surrendering to the unpredictable flow of life with small children.
Parenthood requires almost constant pivoting, especially when it comes to plans and goals. Your worth as a parent is not judged on the tidiness of your home, your body size or shape, the way you birthed, or your choice to stay home or return to paid work.
3. Go outside and ground yourself
Studies show that when new parents leave the house (particularly the stressors of mess and unfinished jobs) and spend time in nature, they experience improved mental health, in part because they feel joy in watching their baby experience the world. This sensory stimulation also improves infant sleep.
4. Seek out incidental conversations
Everyday conversation with your barista, the person at the bus stop and other parents is an early mental health intervention. Fostering a sense of connection also prompts the release of oxytocin, which moderates stress.
5. Lean on safety habits when you’re stressed
Firstly, remind yourself that you’re not being chased by a predator, and then do what’s most practical in the moment: drink a glass of water slowly, stretch your arms up to the sky, take three deep breaths followed by three audible sighs, run cold water over your hands.
Text from A Brain That Breathes by Jodi Wilson. Murdoch Books, RRP $34.99.
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ISSUE 09