How do we navigate when the summer ends and the dread begins?
There is something about September that makes my stomach drop.
The summer holidays are coming to an end. The routines are changing. The mornings are getting darker, the evenings shorter and suddenly there is a long list of things to organise, prepare for and worry about.
For me, September brings a familiar combination of anxiety, dread, excitement and uncertainty — what I think of as the September blues.
And although I am a counsellor, I am also a teacher, a parent and a parent of a neurodivergent child. I have my own lived experience of education, work-related stress, parenting worries and navigating change. So when I talk to clients about anxiety, overwhelm and the pressures September can bring, I am not talking from a purely professional perspective. I have lived it too.
Returning to a stressful teaching environment
For a long time, I was a teacher.
Teaching was a career I cared deeply about, but I also found it incredibly demanding. At times, it felt all-consuming and overbearing. The job didn't always stop when I left the school gates. It could follow me home, occupy my thoughts and take up emotional space that I didn't have to spare. Then September would arrive. The end of the summer holidays could bring a real sense of dread. There were reviews, book looks, lesson observations and the constant pressure to demonstrate that you were doing enough. Sometimes it felt as though the goalposts were continually moving, making it difficult to ever feel that you had done enough.
And then there was the pressure of pupil performance. Teachers are expected to support children to achieve, but children don't exist in isolation from their circumstances. Their home lives matter. Their relationships matter. Their confidence matters. Their additional needs matter. Their social circumstances and emotional wellbeing matter too. Yet it can sometimes feel as though all of this gets reduced to data, progress and outcomes. I know how difficult that can be.
I also know that many teachers and other education workers experience similar feelings of stress, burnout, anxiety and being underappreciated. If you work in education and find yourself dreading the return to school, you are not weak or failing. You may simply be carrying too much.
The September anxiety of being a parent
As a parent, September brings another layer of anxiety.
There is the practical side of getting children ready for school — uniforms, shoes, bags, equipment and all the associated costs. Then there are the things you can't simply buy or organise.
Will they be happy?
Will they have friends?
Will they feel included?
Will they cope?
Will they be anxious?
Will they tell me if something is wrong?
For parents, the start of a new school year can mean carrying a huge amount of emotional responsibility.And sometimes our children's experiences can trigger our own worries.
Parenting a neurodivergent child
For me, this is particularly true when I think about my autistic daughter. A new school year means new timetables, new rooms, new teachers and new subjects. For some children, these might be ordinary changes. For an autistic child, they can represent a huge amount of uncertainty. As her parent, I naturally worry about how she will cope. I can prepare her. I can listen. I can advocate for her. I can support her. But I can't remove every uncertainty.
Learning to sit with that uncertainty is something I have had to navigate myself. This is one of the reasons I understand how difficult it can be when your child's needs, emotions or experiences become a source of anxiety for you as a parent.
GCSEs, secondary school and the next stage of life
This September is particularly significant for our family. My eldest is starting her GCSE years and my youngest is starting secondary school.
I feel nervous. I feel excited. I feel proud. And I feel a little emotional about how quickly they are growing up. With my eldest entering her exam years, I find myself thinking about the next few years and wondering what they will look like.
What will she want to do?
What will make her happy?
Will she feel pressured to follow a particular path?
Will she believe that her grades define her?
I hope not. Because one of the messages I want my children to hear loudest is that school and exams are only a small part of life. I want them to focus on what makes them happy rather than what they think they should be doing. I want them to understand that academic achievement does not determine their value. And I want them to know that their best will always be good enough.
I hope the school and teachers around them reinforce that message. But if I'm honest, I sometimes doubt that this will always be the loudest message they hear. So I need to make sure my voice is louder. Not the voice telling them they aren't doing enough. Not the voice comparing them with somebody else.
The voice reminding them that they are loved, valued and enough exactly as they are.
When children leave home
For some parents, September brings an even bigger transition. Their child is leaving home and heading off to university. We aren't there yet, but with my eldest approaching her GCSEs, university and adulthood suddenly feel much closer than they did before.
There can be so many conflicting emotions when our children reach these milestones: pride, excitement, fear, sadness and hope. And sometimes grief for the little person they once were. Life transitions can bring up a lot for parents, and we don't always talk about that. We can be incredibly happy for our children while simultaneously feeling anxious about what their next stage means for us.
Both things can be true.
The changing seasons and our mental health
September also marks a change in the seasons. The warm, long days of summer gradually give way to colder weather, shorter days and less natural light. For some people, this seasonal change can affect their mood and mental wellbeing. Add in the return to work, changes in routine, school pressures, financial worries and the uncertainty that comes with a new academic year, and it is easy to understand why September can feel overwhelming. Sometimes what we call the "September blues" is actually a sign that we have been carrying too much for too long.
So perhaps this September, alongside asking how everyone else is doing, we could ask ourselves the same question.
How am I?
Don't forget your own oxygen mask
There is a reason the safety demonstration on an aeroplane tells us to put our own oxygen mask on before helping someone else. As parents, this can feel completely unnatural. We are used to putting our children's needs first. But supporting your child's wellbeing doesn't mean sacrificing your own. In fact, taking care of your own mental health is one of the ways you model healthy emotional wellbeing for your children.
You don't need to be perfectly calm.
You don't need to have everything figured out.
You do need to recognise when you are struggling and give yourself permission to ask for support.
What is within your control?
One of the things I often explore with clients is the Circle of Control.We can spend a huge amount of time worrying about things that aren't actually within our control.
We can't control what other people think.
We can't control every decision made by school.
We can't control other children's behaviour.
We can't control exactly how our children will respond to every challenge.
And we certainly can't control the future.
But we can look at what we can control and what we can influence.
That might mean deciding how we respond, setting boundaries, preparing where we can, asking for help, taking care of ourselves and letting go of unrealistic expectations. Sometimes the goal isn't to make the uncertainty disappear. It's to develop the resources to cope with it.
Widening your window of tolerance
Another area I often explore with clients is their window of tolerance. When we are within our window of tolerance, we are generally better able to think clearly, regulate our emotions and respond to difficult situations. But when life becomes overwhelming, that window can become smaller. Things that would normally feel manageable can suddenly feel enormous. We might become more anxious, irritable, tearful, overwhelmed or exhausted. Part of counselling can involve exploring what helps you widen that window. That might include looking at sleep, rest, movement, boundaries, relationships and making time for things that bring you joy. It can also involve understanding why certain situations affect us so strongly.
What does September bring up for you?
Sometimes our reaction to September isn't only about September. It can connect with experiences from much earlier in our lives. Perhaps education was a huge source of pressure when you were growing up. Perhaps your parents expected a lot from you. Maybe you were compared to siblings or classmates. Perhaps you learned that your worth was connected to achievement. Or maybe you grew up believing that being successful meant doing what you were supposed to do rather than what actually made you happy. These experiences can influence how we respond when our own children reach important educational milestones.
Your child's GCSEs might bring up memories of your own school experience.
Your child's anxiety might trigger your own.
Your child's struggles might make you question whether you are doing enough as a parent.
Counselling can give you somewhere to explore those feelings without judgement.
Counselling for anxiety, parenting stress and life changes
As a counsellor, I work with people who are carrying emotional burdens that can be difficult to put down. Sometimes those burdens relate to work. Sometimes they involve parenting. Sometimes they are connected to our children's wellbeing or neurodivergence. Sometimes they involve major life transitions. And sometimes we simply know that we don't feel like ourselves anymore.
Counselling provides a space to slow things down and unpack what you are carrying. We can explore your thoughts and feelings around your children, your work, your relationships, your own upbringing and the changes happening in your life.
You don't have to arrive knowing exactly what is wrong.
You don't have to have the right words.
You don't have to justify why you are struggling.
You can simply start where you are.
Mental health matters more than grades
My experiences as a teacher, parent and parent of a neurodivergent child have shaped the way I work as a counsellor.They have also strengthened something I feel very strongly about:
Mental health matters more than academic performance.
Our children are not their GCSE results.
Teachers are not their lesson observations.
Parents are not measured by how well they manage everything.
None of us should have to earn our worth through achievement. Education matters, of course. But it is only one part of a much bigger life. I want my children to be happy, emotionally healthy and able to make choices that feel right for them. And I want to help my clients find the same sense of permission for themselves — to step away from the expectations of what they should be doing and begin to explore what they actually need.
If you're struggling with the September blues
If September is bringing up feelings of anxiety, dread, overwhelm or sadness for you, you don't have to simply push through. Whether you are a teacher dreading returning to work, a parent worrying about your child's next stage, navigating life with a neurodivergent child, facing GCSEs and university decisions, or simply finding the change of season difficult, there is space to talk about it. You don't have to carry it all on your own.
If you find you too have the September blues and need a space to talk, or you need support navigating difficult thoughts or feelings, get in touch using the enquiry form on my website or email Lindsey@LKCT.co.uk.
Sometimes counselling isn't about finding an immediate solution. Sometimes it is about having somewhere safe to put the burden down, unpack what you have been carrying and begin to understand what you need next.
And perhaps that's what we all need a little more of this September.
