But then the stress started increasing, from work and from the headlines about racism and police brutality over the summer. In response I took on even more work, hoping to distract myself from the uncertainty of the world. Instead, I ran full speed into anxiety and depression. And the bad news — of pandemic-related deaths and devastation as well as of the murders of unarmed Black people — kept coming. Eventually, the problem felt too big; the disconnection strategies I typically relied on to recharge weren’t enough. The more time I spent shut up at home, the more terrifying it was to speak to any adult who wasn’t my husband or my mother. Hearing the phone ring or even imagining the energy it would take to hold it together long enough to talk to someone left me breathless. While everything overwhelmed me, the biggest challenge was trying to be there for my children in my newfound continuous state of irritability and fear. My 4-year-old has always been talkative, but suddenly his chattering and curiosity began to frustrate me, while I was becoming impatient with my 1-year-old’s inability to communicate her needs. I’d been a work-from-home mother for nearly all of the time I’d been a parent. But as the pandemic continued, most mornings I had to pretend like my husband leaving for work didn’t bring tears to my eyes — and sometimes I didn’t bother to pretend. Sierra Bowman, a mother of two who lives in Las Vegas, is a military spouse whose husband was on deployment when the pandemic hit. Pre-COVID, assistance from day care and school helped her balance family life and employment. When COVID hit, she found it impossible to keep up with her job. “I ended up losing that position because it was really difficult to try to manage juggling two kids and going into an office, then ultimately trying to work even more hours from home because my job was demanding,” she says. “I wouldn’t say necessarily that I was depressed in a sense, but I was very stressed out and very on edge.” In October 2020, Pediatrics, the official journal of the American Academy of Pediatrics, released the results of a national survey on the well-being of parents and children during the pandemic. The researchers found that since March 2020, 27 percent of parents reported worsening mental health for themselves, and 14 percent reported worsening behavioral health for their children. The contributing factors included food insecurity, decreasing employer-sponsored health insurance coverage, and a loss of regular childcare. I understand how losing regular childcare can affect a parent’s mental health: I pulled my son from preschool hoping to reduce pandemic-related risks and save spots for individuals who didn’t have other options. Although making that choice while working from home and starting graduate school eased some of my fears, it intensified other stressors. In a Stress in America poll released in May 2020, the American Psychological Association noted an increased risk of mental health issues for marginalized individuals, whose pandemic-parenting woes are intensified by unrelenting racial disparities. As a community activist, I found that America’s ongoing racial reckoning left me so preoccupied with making the world better for my children’s future that I didn’t have anything to give them in the present. “Many parents ran on empty most days, but due to their ever-increasing list of things to do, they didn’t have time to stop and worry. Now, during a pandemic that has forced us to slow down, many parents are being faced with how they’ve been managing their mental and emotional wellness,” Samudio explains. My experience bears this out. Before connecting with my mental health counselor, I read my inability to cope as proof that I was the problem instead of as a reminder of the incalculable ways that society fails parents, from limited childcare options in rural areas like mine to unaffordable childcare everywhere — all of which hits especially hard for those of us with multiple marginalized identities. Samudio points out that many parents might share my symptoms but, like Bowman, don’t identify with the language of “depression” and “anxiety.” This revelation means that in order to support ourselves and our loved ones, we should be watching for red flags instead of focusing on labels. Samudio says that some general signs of anxiety or depression include feeling irritable, being hard on yourself, feeling guilt or shame for taking care of yourself, not being interested in things that once made you happy, sleeping too much or too little, anger, yelling, and weigh loss or gain. She adds that symptoms vary between individuals and that the best way to find help is to see a licensed mental health professional.
Coping Strategies Can Help
Finding a therapist was the first of many decisions that allowed me to regain a sense of control, giving me the space to discuss the resentment I felt toward my family in a judgment-free environment with someone who could affirm that I wasn’t just “crazy.” My counselor suggested that I find small, manageable ways to get a break and supported my efforts to find joy in hobbies like jewelry making and gardening. While some would call these efforts “self-care,” Samudio pushes back against the commercialization of the topic in recent years and says caring for yourself is essential yet straightforward. “It’s making sure that you’ve eaten today or drinking enough water to keep from getting dehydrated, or getting out of the bed and tending to one or two things on your to-do list; overall, self-care is about rejuvenation and reenergizing yourself.” Her words made me reflect on the lessons I’d learned from my counselor. During our first few sessions she made it clear that I needed self-awareness to figure out my wants and needs and develop coping strategies that worked. For Bowman, carving out time for herself helped, even if it was just a trip to the grocery store or library alone. “Or I’d do things as simple as saying to my kids ‘Okay, we’ll just go outside,’ because I knew if I let them run around, I would have some time to sit by myself,” she says. “Parents have been told so much that they must sacrifice for their children, and that myth has caused many parents to ignore themselves, hoping that by doing so, they will be able to do more for their family,” Samudio says. “But that thinking is counterintuitive: If you’re not okay, then you won’t be available for your family.” I’m working on accepting that parenting with mental health issues in a pandemic means that struggle is normal and I don’t have to feel bad about not feeling okay. I also understand that internalizing this truth means I have to free myself from the responsibility of trying to end centuries of systemic issues in one lifetime. I want to nurture my children and change the world, but before I can succeed at that, I have to learn to nurture and care for myself.
