When Your Kid Struggles With Mental Health: Widen Their Circle of Helping Adults
"There is no question but that our parents failed us as parents. All parents fail their children, and ours were no exception. No parent is ever adequate enough for the job of being a parent, and there is no way not to fail at it. No parent ever has enough love, or wisdom, or maturity, or patience. No parent ever succeeds completely. As kids we needed more mothering than our mothers could give us, more fathering than our fathers had to offer--more brothering and sistering than we got from our siblings.
Part of our task in growing up thus becomes finding our own sources of parenting, to add to what our mothers and fathers were not able to give us. We cannot wait for our parents' permission to grow up. We need to decide on our own to find other people to parent us, to find other people to give us what our parents couldn't. To grow up isn't easy, but in order to do that we must forgive our parents. We must forgive them for our sake, not theirs. When we do not forgive them we are still expecting all of our parenting from them. We are clinging to them in the hope that if we wait long enough, they will finally come through with enough parenting for us. But this is impossible. and in order for us to be really free to find other sources of parenting, we must forgive..."
—Henry T. Close, *The Dilemma of Parenting*
Seeing Our Parents More Clearly
As a daughter, I've spent a lot of time reflecting on what my parents did right and where they fell short. What I've come to understand, especially after raising children of my own, is that they did the best they could. Through no fault of their own, they couldn't give me everything I needed. And neither could I give my children everything they needed. I've made my peace with that. I hope you can too.
When My Kids’ World Fell Apart
When my kids were little, our world fell apart, and my children lost their father. No matter how fiercely I loved them, I could not be both parents. I could not replace what they had lost. I could not be their entire village, or fill in every gap of grief, fear, anger, confusion, and hurt that followed.
Nobody prepares you for the meltdowns, the school crises, the hospitalizations, the residential and therapeutic placements. Some nights I lay awake wondering if a different version of me, calmer, more patient, more regulated, might somehow have prevented all of it. I've written before about my perfectionistic tendencies, and mothering was no exception. I was hard on myself.
Now, in the rearview mirror, I can see clearly what I couldn't then: how fortunate I was that others stepped in..
The “Other Parents” in Therapeutic Schools and Programs
The therapist who didn't flinch when my son said hurtful things. The wilderness guide who trudged alongside him on hikes and saw through his bravado. The direct care staff who sat with him outside, hand on his back, in a low moment. The Assistant Head of School who had him over to cook dinner with his family. The coach who saw not just a dysregulated boy, but an athlete, a teammate, a leader in the making.
These are the "other people to parent us" that Close describes, only in my case, they were parenting my son. They helped him build a sense of self, a self‑concept and self‑esteem, in ways that I simply could not from inside our mother–child relationship. And in a very real way, they were parenting me too, teaching me that I did not have to be everything. That I couldn't be, and that was okay.
I hold every one of them in my heart. You know who you are. You know you made a difference.
Visiting Therapeutic Programs in Southern California
This past week, traveling through Southern California visiting therapeutic schools programs, I felt that same gratitude rise up again and again. I sat in living rooms and group rooms and staff offices with founders, clinicians, mentors, and direct care staff. I listened to them talk about their kids, the troubled teens and failure‑to‑launch young adults who arrive addicted to substances and technology, shut down or explosive, terrified or numb, convinced no one could possibly understand them. And I felt the goodness in people.
The Goodness Inside Therapeutic Communities
In the programs we refer to, often owner-operated, built by people who chose this work on purpose, I keep finding the same thing: people who genuinely care. This week alone, I met a clinician who teared up describing a client's progress; a program director who rearranged staff schedules so one fragile young adult would have his preferred staff member during the evenings, when he struggles most; and a family therapist who stayed an extra hour with a mother who just couldn't stop crying during their family workshop.
These are people who choose to support families at their most frightened, ashamed, exhausted, and yes, vulnerable. They hold the teens who struggle with anxiety and depression, who are paralyzed by executive function deficits associated with ADHD, and who can’t seem to “launch” into adulthood. They sit with the young people who struggle to find their people because of their neurodivergence and social skills deficits. They walk alongside them through the slow, nonlinear work of learning to be safe, accessing their education, and finding their way back to themselves, to their parents, and to relationship.
Forgiving Our Parents, and Ourselves
Close writes that part of growing up is finding new sources of parenting, and that to do that, we must forgive our own parents. Not for their sake, but for ours. I've come to believe something parallel is true on the parenting side: Part of being a parent is accepting that our children will need other sources of parenting besides us. And to allow that, we have to forgive ourselves, forgive ourselves for not being super human!
We have to forgive ourselves for not being able to protect our child from every risk, or soothe their every hurt. For the decisions we second guess, like sending them away, holding (or not holding) firmer boundaries, saying "I can't do this alone anymore" when our nervous systems are completely shot. For the fantasy we once held that if we just loved them enough, worked hard enough, sacrificed enough, we could single-handedly deliver them into a life free of struggle. We cannot. It’s not humanly possible.
Widening the Circle Around Our Teens and Young Adults
What we can do is what you are already doing when you consider a therapeutic program, say yes to a mentor, or let a clinician become important to your child: we can widen the circle of parenting around them. We can let teachers, therapists, residential direct care staff (,who are key) coaches, and program founders become part of our children's story, offering the "more mothering, more fathering, more brothering and sistering" that we, in our very human limitations, cannot provide alone. That is an act of love, not failure.
A Thank‑You to the Helpers
To the clinicians and staff I met this week in Southern California, and to the many who walked alongside my son over the years: thank you. You parented my child in the ways I couldn't. You are the reason that I do the work that I do as a therapeutic educational consultant, helping families heal. Through your example, you inspired me. I am beyond grateful to you!
Jennifer Benson, MSW is a therapeutic educational consultant who support children, adolescents, and young adults with mental health and educational challenges near Westport, Connecticut. Crossbridge Consulting serves clients internationally and nation-wide.
