We talk constantly about supporting autistic children.
We talk about sensory needs, meltdowns, school anxiety, communication, sleep, behaviour, therapies and education.
But there is another person in that family whose mental health can sometimes disappear from the conversation completely:
Mum.
Recent research has examined parenting-related post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and complex PTSD among parents of autistic children, finding substantially greater levels of probable PTSD/CPTSD in these parents than in comparison groups. Other research has documented PTSD symptoms following particularly traumatic parenting experiences such as aggression, self-injury and suicidal behaviour.
That deserves attention.
But before we go any further, there is an important distinction to make.
Autism itself isn’t traumatising
This conversation should never become:
“Autistic children give their parents PTSD.”
That’s neither fair nor what the evidence tells us.
Autistic children aren’t the problem.
Rather, some parents can experience events and circumstances surrounding their child’s needs that are frightening, prolonged or traumatic.
Think about what some SEND families actually experience.
A child who bolts towards a road.
A child disappearing from sight.
Serious self-injury.
Physical aggression during periods of extreme dysregulation.
A child expressing suicidal thoughts or behaviours.
Repeated mental-health crises.
Years of severe sleep deprivation.
Watching your child’s mental health deteriorate while waiting for professional support.
School repeatedly breaking down.
Constantly fighting systems while simultaneously trying to hold your family together.
Not every SEND family experiences these things.
But some do.
And when they do, we need to acknowledge the impact they can have on the parent as well as the child.
What does the research tell us?
A 2025 study involving parents of autistic children in Denmark and Australia examined parenting-related PTSD and complex PTSD.
Researchers found substantially higher rates of probable parenting-related PTSD/CPTSD among parents of autistic children compared with parents of non-autistic children.
An earlier clinical study looking specifically at potentially traumatic events experienced by mothers of autistic children found that some mothers met criteria for PTSD related to parenting experiences.
Reported traumatic experiences included children’s physical aggression, self-injury and suicidal behaviour.
Research has also explored post-traumatic stress in mothers and fathers following a child’s autism diagnosis, with mothers reporting higher levels in one recent study.
None of this means every autism mum has PTSD.
It doesn’t mean being tired, anxious or stressed automatically constitutes PTSD either.
PTSD is a recognised mental-health condition that requires proper assessment.
But the research does reinforce something many families have been saying for years:
the psychological wellbeing of parents matters too.
When your body learns to expect the next crisis
One of the things I’ve noticed through our own SEND journey is how difficult it can become to truly switch off.
Even when everything is quiet, part of you can remain alert.
You hear movement upstairs.
You listen.
The school phone number appears on your screen.
Your stomach drops.
Your child suddenly goes quiet in a busy place.
You’re immediately looking around.
You enter a restaurant and instinctively start calculating:
Where can we sit?
What’s on the menu?
How noisy is it?
Where’s the exit?
How is everyone coping?
You aren’t necessarily consciously deciding to do these things.
After years of anticipating difficulties, being alert can start to feel normal.
For some parents, that level of vigilance is simply exhausting.
For others who have experienced genuinely traumatic events, the psychological impact can be considerably more serious.
The school phone call
SEND parents will probably understand this example immediately.
Your phone rings during the school day.
Before you’ve even answered it, you’re thinking:
What’s happened?
Has there been a meltdown?
Have they run?
Have they hurt themselves?
Do I need to collect them?
Have they been suspended?
Even after a period where things are going relatively well, that physical reaction can remain.
Your brain remembers the hundreds of previous calls.
That doesn’t automatically mean PTSD.
But it demonstrates how repeated stressful experiences can shape the way parents respond to situations long afterwards.
Sleep deprivation matters too
Some SEND parents haven’t had consistently good sleep for years.
Their child may struggle to fall asleep, wake repeatedly, need somebody beside them, experience anxiety at night or start their day extremely early.
The parent then gets up and is expected to function normally.
Work.
School runs.
Appointments.
Cooking.
Emails.
Forms.
Other children.
Relationships.
Then bedtime comes around and the cycle starts again.
Chronic sleep deprivation can significantly affect mental and physical wellbeing.
And yet parents often treat it as:
“That’s just our life.”
Then there’s the system
Sometimes it isn’t only parenting itself that’s exhausting.
It’s everything surrounding it.
Waiting years for an assessment.
Trying to convince somebody that your child needs help.
Fighting for an EHCP.
Appealing decisions.
Being told:
“We don’t see that at school.”
Watching your child deteriorate while waiting for CAMHS.
Explaining the same story repeatedly to different professionals.
Having support rejected because your family hasn’t reached the required threshold.
Then being told you’re in crisis once things finally collapse.
For many SEND parents, the emotional load doesn’t come from one single event.
It can come from years of repeatedly having to prove that your child needs help.
“You need some self-care”
Most SEND parents have probably heard this.
Have a bath.
Go for a walk.
Have an evening to yourself.
Take some time out.
And of course looking after yourself matters.
But sometimes telling an overwhelmed parent they need more self-care completely misunderstands the problem.
You can’t bubble-bath your way out of having no respite.
You can’t meditate away a three-year waiting list.
A walk doesn’t fix an unsuitable school placement.
And “taking some time for yourself” is difficult when there is nobody else capable of safely caring for your child.
Sometimes parents don’t need another wellbeing tip.
They need actual support.
Why mothers may be particularly affected
This conversation often focuses on mums because mothers still frequently carry a disproportionate share of children’s caring responsibilities, appointments, school communication and emotional labour.
But fathers can struggle too.
So can grandparents, foster carers and other people providing substantial care.
The broader message should therefore be:
Supporting a disabled child means supporting the people caring for that child as well.
A parent’s wellbeing isn’t separate from the child’s wellbeing.
They affect one another.
Signs that you may need support
There is a difference between being understandably exhausted by parenting and experiencing a mental-health condition.
But if you find yourself persistently experiencing things such as intrusive memories of frightening events, avoiding reminders of what happened, feeling constantly on guard, significant sleep disturbance, emotional numbness or distress that is interfering with everyday life, it’s worth talking to a healthcare professional.
You don’t need to decide for yourself whether what you’re experiencing is PTSD.
You can simply say:
“I’ve been through some very difficult experiences caring for my child, and I don’t think I’m coping with what happened.”
That is enough to start a conversation.
Parents shouldn’t have to reach breaking point
Perhaps this is the biggest takeaway from the research.
We are very good at asking:
“What support does this child need?”
And rightly so.
But we should also be asking:
“How is the person caring for them actually coping?”
Not when they’re already broken.
Earlier.
When the sleep disappears.
When the school calls become constant.
When aggression begins.
When their child starts self-harming.
When they’re frightened about leaving the house.
When they’re telling professionals:
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.”
That sentence shouldn’t be treated as weakness.
It should be treated as information.
You can love your child and still find this incredibly hard
These two things are not opposites:
“I love my child more than anything.”
and
“Some of what we’ve been through has traumatised me.”
Acknowledging the second does not diminish the first.
Nor does talking honestly about parental mental health blame autistic children.
It acknowledges that families sometimes experience extraordinarily difficult circumstances and that parents are human beings with nervous systems too.
And perhaps that’s the conversation we need to have more often.
Not:
“Why isn’t Mum coping better?”
But:
“What has Mum been carrying — and who is helping her carry it?”
At AskEllie, we talk openly about the realities of SEND family life because no parent should feel ashamed for admitting that they’re struggling.
If this article resonates strongly with you and you’re concerned about your mental health, please speak with your GP or another qualified healthcare professional. PTSD cannot be diagnosed from a social-media post or list of symptoms.
Our children deserve support. Their parents do too.
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