Hanna Grass

Graphic of young female student overwhelmed with unanswered questions (May 2).

As an 18-year-old senior completing her final weeks of high school, there is a lot on my plate each day. I have my classes in the morning, then I leave for my co-op job where I work off-campus until 3:30 pm. Most days, I work out at the gym for an hour or two, then head home or to my boyfriend’s house for dinner and whatever else is on the to-do list. Recently, that list has been expanding with the plethora of college application requirements and prom preparation: What dorm am I living in? Who is my roommate? Is my FAFSA in? Does my dress fit okay? How much are alterations? How tall do my heels need to be? What’s the dinner, pictures, and after-party plan?

Beyond these, I am responsible for completing household chores and participating in “family-time” a few nights a week. What do you want for dinner? Can you cook tonight? Who’s doing the dishes? Did you feed the dogs? Why are you always escaping to your room?

As a class officer and leader in my senior class, there are weekly events I am encouraged to attend, plan, work, or complete extra assignments for. Are you working the blood drive? What activities are we going to set up for senior field day? Can you stay after school to paint decorations? Have you written your graduation letter yet? Can you finish the posters by the end of the day?

As a student attending college out of state this coming fall, there are scholarships to be entered that will alleviate some of the excessive cost that comes with going to a far-away school. Have you written that essay yet? Can you email the donor? Have you ordered your transcripts yet? What AP classes did you take these past four years? Did you meet the qualifications?

The obligations are coming at me from every direction and the pressures are weighing heavier on my shoulders each passing day. I am lucky to have my peers who understand how exhausting this lifestyle is and offer grace when I am stressed and not up to chat/hang out. However, when I conclude my days and return home to my parents, this same grace is not always shown.

Every outlet of my life in this stage is requiring a level of social interaction, and as someone who is introverted, there is only so much I can give before needing space to recharge. By the time I pull into the driveway and walk in the door to my home, that glass of conversational energy is drained down to the last drop. I am ready to let my shields down, find peace in the solace of my room, and free my mind of the anxiety of that day. However, my mother and father have very different needs at this time. They are craving connection with their daughter, wanting to know the ins and outs of my day, down to the nitty gritty. Knowing that I am busy and involved in so many things brings them pride, and naturally, they want to hear all about how these endeavors went. Such instincts and desires are normal as a parent, but for an only child living these obligations out in all their glory, recounting the details of my marathon days draws from an already empty jar.

I have little to nothing left to give socially. I feel guilty and sorry for this, knowing that their desire to talk comes out of love, but there comes a point where vocalizing my actions, thoughts, and feelings must come to a close for that 24-hour period. There just isn’t enough time in the day or fuel in my tank to satisfy everyone, including myself.

I will admit that communication in general is not always my strong suit. I tend to shut down and overthink what I want to say, worried that it will only cause more conflict or come across differently than intended. That being said, I have tried my best to communicate to my parents that this last month or so of school is going to be a lot for me to handle. There is often an initial apology or step back from them for the next day or so, but it all returns once more before I can fully recharge. I have spoken with many of my classmates and fellow seniors on this matter and learned that I am not alone in this struggle. It seems that because so much of my school work and assignments are centered around group work, collaboration, and communication rather than individual assignments, I am socially drained by the time I come home. My patience for other people and interest in what is happening in other people’s lives is depleted after participating in that type of conversation all throughout my day.

If I WANT to share something with my family, I will, but being asked about seemingly meaningless details of my day when I’m being quiet feels like another task I have yet to complete on this never-ending to-do list. This may sound harsh, but it’s the honest truth about where my mental state stands at this point of the school year. It is not that I don’t care about my family or what is going on in their lives, but my mental jar of information can only hold so much at one time – especially when what it’s holding is of dire importance (deadlines, events, emotion, etc.) Being a teenager and coping with the strenuous hormonal imbalances and social tensions is hard enough as it is. I am discovering who I am for goodness sake, I don’t even know how to answer some of the questions I am asked about my thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams.

Part of me feels like all of this is coming out of a deeply rooted selfishness and that I am simply putting too much of myself into the wrong priorities. My parents often say I owe it to them to inform them about my life’s interactions: what did I do all day, what did I eat, how was school, how was work, how was the gym, what should we eat for dinner, what do you have to do tomorrow? On the surface level, this all feels reasonable, but when I’m in the moment, it’s overwhelming and happening all at once. I don’t think it’s my fault that I feel this way, but no one else has any control over it either. I don’t expect people to change the way they communicate or what they need from me just to make my life easier. It’s a difficult issue and I have yet to determine how to alleviate this anxiety in my chest. Maybe my ease will come with time and experience dealing with this. Maybe I need to just hold my breath, put on a smile, and act excited when my mom asks me about my day. But is that my only option?

As I’ve matured and distinguished what types of people I prefer to spend time around and build relationships with, I’ve realized that those who can give me grace when it comes to my social battery are who I’m drawn to. The ability to empathize and understand another’s struggle even if it is not your own is a valuable trait I seek out – especially having dealt with the opposite relationship style at home. Communicating that not every moment of every day can be a social hour is not an unreasonable request, and instead, setting aside time to talk that can work with all parties is the best solution. This verbal connection between friends and family is without a doubt important, but maybe not multiple times a day or even multiple times a week. There needs to be compromise on both sides and trust that communication can and will happen when it absolutely NEEDS to, not just when it’s convenient for one person.

To the parents who may be reading this, I ask you, do you really want to know about your child’s day? Or do you need reassurance that you’re doing a good job as a parent? Are you relying on your child’s life as a replacement for your own social events and entertainment? I do not mean to offend or assume things about my adult audience, but this is simply something to ponder. A moment of reflection may help explain why your child seems resistant to “table talk.”

It doesn’t take much for an overwhelmed student to feel pressured or controlled from their blood-linked authoritative figure. If this is happening, try backing off a bit and focusing on rebuilding trust and connection with your child. Let them know you’re there to support them, but also respect their need for space and autonomy; and please prove that you mean this. Please don’t double back on your promise and become a helicopter parent the following day. Healing this type of conflict takes time and commitment, you must be patient.

In writing this article, I have exhibited courage in voicing my struggles and I take pride in knowing that I am not alone in feeling this way. I hope that if my own parents read this, they react with respect for my perspective and a drive to find a peaceful way to interact at home. I hope that for any other parents reading this, my honesty is eye-opening. Maybe my words can speak on behalf of their own child too afraid to voice their anxiety. To my fellow students, and seniors specifically, you are not weak for feeling overwhelmed, overworked, and overstimulated. Your needs are valid, and you are not alone in feeling “burnt out.” I am always here as an outlet to rant to about any and all your teenage troubles, for helping others feel seen and heard heals my own wounds.