I Know There’s Something Not Right” – A Mum’s Gut Feeling When Her Child Is Struggling

"I Know There’s Something Not Right” – A Mum’s Gut Feeling When Her Child Is Struggling

I’ve learned over the years that being a mum doesn’t come with an off switch. No matter how old your child is, no matter how independent they become, that deep-rooted instinct, the one that tells you something's not right never dims.

Right now, my daughter is quiet. Too quiet.

She’s been away for a week, staying with her girlfriend. She’s safe, I know that. But she’s also been distant, a little spaced, like her spark is flickering somewhere just out of reach.

She’s always liked her own space. She can go inward when things feel too much. But this is different. There’s a stillness about her that feels loaded. Not peaceful. Just… paused. Like she’s holding her breath, and I’m holding mine with her.

She mentioned she had a meltdown after seeing her psychologist. She didn’t go into detail, just said it was a hard session and then went quiet again. And I get it. Therapy can stir up things that feel like a landslide. But not knowing why, not being able to help, that's the part that eats away at me.

The thing is, I know she’ll tell me eventually. We have that kind of bond. One built on a thousand cups of tea (well, not tea for me I hate the stuff), countless car chats, late-night tears, and soft “I’m here”s. But right now, I'm stuck in the space between knowing and not knowing. And it’s awful.

It’s not just her mood. It’s the bigger decisions looming in the background. She wants to move in with her girlfriend, who seems ok, but the flat is tiny. Barely the size of her bedroom here at home. And I’m torn.

Part of me wants to grab her by the shoulders and say, “Not yet. You’re not ready. Let’s just breathe for a minute.”

The other part wants to honour her independence, her journey, her right to try. Even if it all goes wrong. Even if my heart breaks watching it.

Because parenting a young adult, especially one with mental health challenges, is like walking a tightrope with no net. You're constantly trying to balance love and boundaries, support and space, action and waiting. And sometimes the hardest thing to do is nothing at all.

So, here I am, waiting!

Checking my phone for messages that don’t come.

Trying to read between the silences.

Holding my own panic at bay so she doesn’t feel it seeping through the cracks.

Because she’s not a child anymore, but she’s still my little girl. And when I say I know there’s something not right, it’s not a judgement. It’s a knowing. A mother’s knowing. The kind that sits in your chest like a stone and won’t budge until you hear the words, “Mum, I’m not okay.”

To any other mum reading this who’s stuck in the waiting room of their child’s silence, I see you. You're not overreacting. You're not paranoid. You're just loving them the best way you know how, through the uncertainty, the fear, and the fierce hope that this too shall pass.

We don’t always get answers. But we can keep showing up. Quietly. Steadily. With love.

If you’re nodding along thinking, “That’s me too,” please know you don’t have to sit in the silence alone.

Our private Facebook group is a safe space for mums supporting young adults with emotional dysregulation, BPD, or simply big feelings that don’t make sense yet.

We share our stories, offer quiet comfort, swap practical tips, and remind each other daily that we’re not failing. We’re just loving someone through the chaos.

Come join us here:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/bpdparentsupport/

Your Calm in the chaos,

Sami xx