Crisis From Afar: When Loneliness and Guilt Take Over.

When we left for France, my daughter decided to stay home. It felt like the right choice for her at the time, avoiding the overwhelm of travel, new places, new food, the sheer noise of it all.

But what none of us could predict was how quickly the silence at home would turn against her.

After about a week, the loneliness crept in. With only the dogs for company, the quiet became unbearable. And then came the guilt, her default setting. “I should have gone.” “I’ve ruined everything.” “I can’t do anything right.”

It’s a pattern I’ve seen so many times: guilt feeds into self-blame, which chips away at self-esteem, until suddenly she’s in a spiral of wanting to hurt herself and intrusive suicidal thoughts.

And there I was, hundreds of miles away, sunshine on my skin, yet phone glued to my hand. Talking her down. Calming her. Reassuring her she wasn’t a burden, that she was loved, that this wasn’t the end of the world. All while inside, I felt my heart breaking.

In moments like this, I become both mother and lifeline. And once the immediate panic passes, there’s the practical side too, rallying her friends to check in, organising the dogs to go into kennels so she could breathe again, piecing together a patchwork of support from afar.

This is the hidden side of “holidays” when you’re parenting a young adult with emotional dysregulation. It’s not just about the trip you take, it’s about managing the crisis you didn’t expect, in the place you didn’t plan for it.

I came home relaxed but also, exhausted, carrying the weight of her phone calls more heavily than any suitcase.

And yet, this is what we do, isn’t it? We find ways to steady the storm, even from a distance. We remind them of their worth, even when they can’t see it themselves. We love, fiercely, even through the phone line.

To any parent reading this: if you’ve ever had to manage a crisis from afar, I see you.

You are not failing. You are doing the impossible and that is more than enough.

Your Calm in the Chaos,

Sami xx