Parental burnout: How I slipped into it and what helped me

I won't be able to get up the next step, I thought. In spring 2016, I stood on the stairs in our house, my legs heavy as lead, dead tired and tense to the point of tears. And suddenly I realised: I can't do this anymore.

We had only moved back to Switzerland a year and a half earlier, our fifth move within a few years and between several countries. I mainly looked after our three children, aged 5, 8 and 11 at the time. All three suffered from a chronic susceptibility to infections and were ill for weeks every winter. I worked about 30 per cent of the time as a freelance journalist and communications consultant, blogged and did voluntary work. During the week, I was a single mum. My husband was in the office for 60 hours or more and away on business trips for whole weeks.
For years I had been under pressure, slept badly, was constantly ill, had pain and tension everywhere, inflamed skin and a cramped stomach.

After the staircase crisis, I went to the acute outpatient clinic at the psychiatric hospital in Basel. «If you were a manager, I could put you on sick leave for a few months due to burnout,» the doctor said helplessly. «But I don't know how you'll get out of it as a freelance mum.» She prescribed me a tranquilliser and gave me the address of a therapist.

Online dossier Burnout

Fortunately, I was able to start behavioural therapy straight away. With the help of my psychologist, I began to unravel the knots inside me. When I called my health insurance company to clarify the reimbursement of costs, they immediately sent a «care manager» to my home. She helped me to organise the practical support I urgently needed: Relief with the children, in the household and garden - and a three-week cure to recuperate. The prospect of that alone gave me a boost.

And yet I dragged myself through everyday life like a seriously ill person. I had to carry on somehow. Parents can't just hand over all responsibility like that. At least I was now allowing myself breaks, on the sofa, in the hammock. Time to ask myself: what had burnt me out so much?

What drove me into parental burnout

1. excessive demands:
The feeling of being helplessly at the mercy of ever new and increasing demands. When my husband worked and travelled a lot, everything at home depended on me. When the children stayed home sick in winter, it coincided with stressful deadlines at work. And then suddenly something would break in our house or orchard and I would have to organise a bunch of workmen. It was all unpredictable and beyond my control.

2. loneliness:
The feeling of having to manage everything alone. After each of our professional moves, I had actively made new contacts, but these friendships were so fresh that I didn't want to immediately burden them with how overwhelmed I felt and where I needed practical help. I lacked the village that it takes to raise a family. Every time I had built it up, we moved on. Sadness, fear and, increasingly, anger built up inside me.

3. high demands on myself and a permanently guilty conscience:
I missed my working husband and the moves were difficult for me. But even worse was the fear of how it would affect my children. I put myself under pressure: somehow I would still have to manage to create a happy, sunny childhood for them - to compensate for their missing roots. I wanted to be their mother in everyday life, but also replace their father, grandparents, godparents, long-time friends and neighbours.

Burnout: an opportunity for an honest life balance

At the time, it all seemed completely logical and absolutely, non-negotiably necessary. Today I think: no wonder it was far too much for my shoulders. And above all for my soul.

I felt increasingly uncomfortable in my own skin. In order to get as much done as possible, I became more and more controlling and inflexible. I rushed after my lists and was short-tempered, thin-skinned and harsh when things didn't go according to plan. Neither my children nor my husband could live a relaxed life together with this driven «do, do, do» mum. But when they withdrew from me, I felt even worse and increased my pressure. It was a terrible vicious circle.

It was only after my body pulled the emergency brake that I was able to understand my situation better. I saw that my children were happy when the new «Hüeti» took over cheerfully and with fresh ideas. That my admission: «I can't do it alone right now» enabled me to make deeper contacts. That there were helpful people who supported us and became important carers. During my three-week cure, I felt how good it was to have space and time for myself. How I found lightness and confidence again.

«I'm no longer as resilient as I was before I burnt out and I may never be again. It's not that important to me anymore.»

Nevertheless, it was and still is a very long, arduous journey back to normality. I am no longer as resilient as I was before I burnt out and perhaps never will be again. It's also no longer that important to me. Defining myself solely by the question «can I still do this and how?» had driven me into my burnout. In order to treat myself well, I had to learn to ask: «Do I really have to do this? Is it good for me, does it fulfil my needs? Does it feel right for me?»

My total exhaustion was not just a stop signal and a crisis. Above all, it was an opportunity for a course correction and a painfully honest life review.
Experts debate whether burnouts exist and how exactly they are defined. Personally, I felt that I would burn out if I didn't give my needs, values and weaknesses space in my life.

There will always be phases in which my needs are neglected, in which I have to function and have a lot to deal with. I can deal with them better and learn to absorb them by cutting back, taking breaks and consciously taking care of myself. I practise enduring discomfort and uncertainty without immediately falling into actionism.
My alarm bells ring when I become narrow and rigid in my head, get carried away with my demands on myself and others - instead of taking a deep breath and accepting what is and where my weaknesses and limits lie.

Years ago, a friend once angrily hurled at me «Tell me, don't you realise how often you rape your stomach with your head?». I have turned this drastic expression into my new mantra and goal: To listen to when my gut is signalling to me «this is too much for you, it doesn't suit you and it's not good for you.» Early and attentively, before my body forces me to pause as clearly as it did on our staircase.

What helped me out of the excessive demands

• Accept help - organise practical relief and relinquish inner responsibility
• Keeping in touch, even when I'm not feeling well - friendships become deeper, being together is good for me and gives me emotional security.
• Create space - take at least an hour every day, half a day every week and a week every year just for myself to stay in touch with my needs.
• Cutting back and prioritising - as long as I take on family responsibilities, weeks of home schooling and care work, I limit other commitments.
• Behaviour-oriented talk therapy - understanding what got me into overload, developing concrete methods to get out of it, practising acceptance.
• Body-orientated therapies - massage, acupuncture and cranio-sacral therapy appeal to me personally from the variety of approaches to achieve physical balance and calm.
• Journaling - by writing, I become more aware and clearer about my needs, values and goals, I can put stressful things on paper and put them behind me.
• Evening ritual: With a relaxing bath, David Berceli's Tension Release Exercises, meditation and a good book, I find peace in the evening; screens stay off.
• Herbal tranquillisers such as lavender, valerian and cannabidiol oil, as well as prescription melatonin during periods of stress, help me to sleep through the night.
• Power nap at lunchtime - nodding off for a few minutes while the children have a quiet time in their room gives us all strength for the rest of the day.
• Gentle exercise - yoga, Pilates, stretching, swimming, walking help me to reduce stress; competitive sport brought me a severe relapse.
• Conscious eating - fresh vegetables and fruit, good fats from nuts, avocados and oily fish, oatmeal and wholemeal bread, bananas and dark chocolate (in bulk!) and, above all, lots of time and pleasure in preparing them help me to recharge my batteries; I have temporarily cut out black tea and coffee, alcohol, sugar and white flour completely.
• Nature - an hour of daily forest bathing with my dog, where I can experience nature in peace, with all my senses and in all weathers
• Reading to understand: «Burnout doesn't just come from stress» and «Time for a lane change» by Dr Miriam Priess, «Self-compassion step by step» by Kirstin Neff opened my eyes.

More articles on the topic of parental burnout:

• Our April 2019 magazine covered the topic of parental burnout on over 20 pages. Order your issue now.
  
• The big analysis of parental burnout: where does it come from and can the breakdown be prevented?
• The big self-test: Are you at risk of parental burnout?

• Jesper Juul says: Dear parents, think more about yourselves!