I was the kind of educator who cried after IEP meetings. Who took parent complaints home like barbs under the skin. Who paced the kitchen at midnight rehearsing conversations that never happened.
You see, I am not just an educator. I am a caregiver-educator — a combination that caused me not to burn out, but to incinerate.
Like many educators, I never clocked out of my caregiving identity. For years I carried the unbearable weight of emotional labor, amplified by undiagnosed ADHD.
My classroom was a whirlwind of innovation and empathy. My home life, on the other hand, was a cycle of collapsing into silence and guilt. I could write a six-week unit plan in a weekend but forget to start the dishwasher. I could advocate fiercely for students with disabilities but freeze when my own child melted down. I was highly capable and chronically exhausted.
Teacher Burnout & My Breaking Point
It started during one Christmas break. I was raw from months of school stress and worn thin from family tension. Then, at the last minute, a plan that would have given me a place at the holiday table was canceled. I tried to be gracious. But that night cracked something open. I spent Christmas Eve alone, seething with rejection and stewing in shame. I completely unraveled, and it was my son who caught the shrapnel. That moment became the beginning of my understanding.
[How Burnt Out Are You? Take This Quiz to Find Out]
I didn’t realize I had ADHD until after my son was diagnosed. I remember sitting in the psychologist’s office, hearing her describe my son’s brain and realizing she could’ve been describing mine. I’d spent my entire career teaching and coaching students with ADHD, and somehow I had missed the fact that I was one of them.
And in the months that followed, I began to name what was happening to me overall: disillusionment, burnout, compassion fatigue, demoralization, and moral injury. I call them the Five Fires. Caregivers, including educators, are at risk. And when you’re raising children with unique needs while also trying to teach them, you’re often burning in more than one.
The Caregiver-Educator with ADHD
ADHD caregivers are especially vulnerable to this kind of collapse. We feel deeply, so we show up big. We care ferociously, so we keep pouring from an empty cup and blame ourselves for not being strong enough to keep it going.
No one really sees the educator-caregiver with ADHD in full collapse. They see the clipboard and the clever lesson plan, but they don’t see the meltdown in the pantry. They don’t see the silent apology after a reactive outburst. They don’t see the guilt that settles like ash over every interaction.
[Read: “What I Wish Someone Had Told Me Before My Flaming ADHD Burnout”]
But we see each other. We see the texts left on “read” because there’s no energy to respond, and the half-read self-help books and the bookmarked podcasts. We see the moments we try to break generational cycles while holding our breath through our own triggers.
Recovering from ADHD Teacher Burnout
If this is you — if you’re a neurodivergent caregiver-educator wondering how it is that you can hold an entire classroom together but lose it when your kid refuses to eat dinner, please hear this: You are not broken. You are burned. Burned doesn’t mean that it’s over, only that it’s time to rebuild.
Healing didn’t come to me in one grand gesture, but through a series of small permissions: to stop overperforming just to prove I belonged. To rest when I was tired, not at the point of collapse. To see myself as more than the roles I served. I sometimes fall back into the fire, even with daily practice. The difference is that now I know the signs and I’m better at rising again.
Your ADHD doesn’t make you a bad parent or a failed teacher. It means your nervous system is working overtime in a world not built for it. You’re wired to care. That’s not a weakness. That’s a kind of flame, too.
Teacher Burnout: Next Steps
SUPPORT ADDITUDE
Thank you for reading ADDitude. To support our mission of providing ADHD education and support, please consider subscribing. Your readership and support help make our content and outreach possible. Thank you.
Nathaly Pesantez
Source link