I was going to write about writing the college essay, but I am sitting in the waiting room at Fairview Hospital Behavioral Health Services, and I am having a hard time focusing on the topic of essays. My older daughter, Hannah, who is twenty-two and on the Autism Spectrum, is having her initial assessment for a partial day-treatment program. (I got her approval to write this essay.) She has been feeling suicidal since being fired from a job a few months ago. While she subsequently found a gardening job through a mutual friend -- a job with fabulous, understanding owners -- she then was temporarily laid off, and won’t start back again until late August. Sigh. After this second loss, her depression came back.

Because she was diagnosed with Autism at a very young age, Hannah has seen a therapist since she was in second grade and a psychiatrist since she was in fourth grade. Now I think we need to up our game with her transition to adulthood. I thought her childhood was hard. This phase of parenting is a different level of hard -- less dealing with tantrums over dropped ice cream cones and more wondering whether your kid is spending too much time in their room alone and what to do about it? Like a lot of other parents, we now are going to consult the Ouija board, toss another dart at the dartboard, talk to friends, family, and various professionals, and see what happens. 

The waiting room at Fairview Behavioral Health is an interesting place to be. It is a humbling place to be. Because Hannah is twenty-two, she is being seen in adult behavioral health. Sitting next to me are two “young adults” who I think could use some additional support from a full-fledged adult, but they are by themselves, supporting each other. Sitting next to them are a mom and a dad with a daughter who looks to be my daughter’s age. The daughter tells her parents, half-jokingly, that she “might faint” without something to eat. She “fake faints” and her dad laughs. I laugh, too, and say to her dad, “She isn’t joking.” Her mom consults with someone at the front desk and goes off to find her a sandwich. We all do what we can for our kids. Fetching a sandwich seems doable when you are in the waiting room at Fairview Mental Health.

No matter how hard you plan or how much you think you can control what happens during your children’s journey to adulthood, life throws you curve balls. And that’s okay. It doesn’t always FEEL okay, though. The best thing you can do remember that these challenges happen to most of us. Then reach out to family, friends, colleagues, experts -- anyone who you think you can rely on -- and trust that somehow, you and your kid will get through whatever the most recent obstacle is.  

Best,

Jenna Klein

jenna@kleincollegeadvising.com

P.S. As always, I am here to help provide whatever guidance and support I can. Including helping your teen write that college essay, a topic I’ll get back to in the next newsletter.

I love helping students write their college admissions essays.