Back-to-school anxiety isn't just for kids: How adults get triggered by routine changes

"First day back at school for the kids. Woke up with horrible neck pain (…) but then decided to take the day off work and not stay home. So now I'm in a café. Hope you’re having a nice day too."

My client didn't realise it, but through her text she'd just given me a masterclass in listening to September anxiety.

While her children were settling into new classrooms with fresh notebooks and nervous excitement, her body was processing its own version of back-to-school stress. The neck pain might have been her nervous system's response to a major life transition that nobody acknowledges affects adults too.

September doesn't just disrupt children's routines. It reorganises entire family ecosystems, and our bodies feel every shift.

The season that rewrites everything

There's something uniquely destabilising about September that goes far beyond calendar changes. Unlike other seasonal transitions, September demands immediate adaptation. Summer's loose rhythms vanish overnight, replaced by the precision of school schedules, earlier bedtimes, and the return of structured days.

For parents, this means navigating not just your own transition, but holding space for everyone else's adjustment too. New teachers to meet, schedules to coordinate, the emotional labour of managing children's anxieties while pretending you have it all figured out.

Even adults without children feel September's pull. Workplaces gear up after summer slowdowns. Social calendars shift from outdoor gatherings to indoor routines. The light changes, and with it, something primal in our nervous system responds to the approaching winter.

Why your body remembers what your mind forgot

What fascinated me about my client's message was the timing. Her body responded to the transition before her conscious mind had even processed what was happening.

This makes perfect sense when you understand how nervous system memory works. Your body holds decades of September associations: the anxiety of new teachers, the social pressure of school environments, the overwhelm of sudden schedule changes. Even positive memories can create nervous system activation - your body remembers the intensity, even if the emotions were excitement, rather than fear.

M, another client, discovered this when he couldn't understand why he felt "off" every September, despite loving his job and having no children. During one session, we traced it back to his childhood experience of being the new kid multiple times due to family moves. September had become encoded in his nervous system as a time of disconnection and having to prove himself, all over again.

"I thought I was over all that" he said. "But apparently my body didn't get the memo."

The hidden load of transition management

September anxiety often gets dismissed because it looks like ordinary stress. But there's a particular quality to transition anxiety that's different from everyday overwhelm.

During transitions, your nervous system is working overtime to process change while maintaining stability. It's like trying to renovate a house while still living in it; everything feels unsettled, even when the changes are positive.

S, a teacher and mother of two, put it perfectly: "I love my job, and I'm excited for my kids to get back to school. So why do I feel like I'm drowning?"

What she was experiencing was the cognitive load of transition: the mental energy required to establish new routines, navigate changed dynamics, and hold space for everyone's adjustment process while managing her own.

Her body was asking for the same thing my client's neck pain was requesting: acknowledgment that this transition was significant and deserved care, not just productivity.

The wisdom in taking the day off

When my client decided to take the day off and go to a café, instead of pushing through the neck pain, she was doing something profound. She was honouring what her body was telling her, instead of treating it as an inconvenience to manage.

This wasn't avoidance or weakness, it was integration. Her nervous system needed time to process the transition, and by giving herself space instead of forcing productivity, she was working with her system rather than against it.

The café detail particularly struck me. Not staying home where the reminders of new routines surrounded her, but choosing a neutral space where she could simply be present with the transition, without having to do anything about it. Real self-care.

What September anxiety could look like

September anxiety doesn't always announce itself as anxiety. It shows up in ways that are easy to dismiss or misinterpret:

Physical symptoms: Neck and shoulder tension, digestive changes, sleep disruption, or that general feeling of being "off" without clear cause.

Emotional responses: Irritability over small things, feeling overwhelmed by normal tasks, or unexpected sadness about summer ending.

Mental patterns: Difficulty concentrating, procrastination around simple tasks, or that familiar sense of being behind before you've even started.

Energy shifts: Feeling exhausted by activities that normally energise you, or restlessness that doesn't match your actual energy levels.

They're all information about how your nervous system processes transition and change.

Feeling the shift

What if instead of pushing through September anxiety, we acknowledged it as a natural response to significant change? What if we could tune into our nervous system's way of signalling environmental changes and mobilising resources to help us adapt? How would we support ourselves through them?

L discovered this when she stopped trying to "get over" her September overwhelm and started planning for it instead. "I used to think I should be fine by now, which caused a lot of shame" she shared. "But when I started treating September like the major transition it actually is, everything got easier."

She began taking the first week of September off-work when possible, meal planning more than usual, and saying no to non-essential commitments during the adjustment period. Not because she was weak, lazy or unprepared, but because she was wise.

Supporting yourself through the transition

Honouring September anxiety doesn't mean being dominated by it. It means working with your natural responses, rather than against them – you guessed it, I was going to say that!

Recognise the timeline: Most nervous systems need 2-4 weeks to fully adjust to major routine changes. Expecting immediate adaptation is like expecting a broken bone to heal overnight.

Plan for the dip: Just like my client who took the day off, building in extra support during transition periods isn't indulgent - it's strategic.

Notice without fixing: When you feel that familiar September overwhelm, pause and acknowledge it, rather than immediately jumping to solutions. Sometimes recognition alone shifts the intensity.

Honour the grief: September marks the end of summer's freedom and possibility. It's natural to feel loss alongside excitement for new beginnings.

The gift of seasonal awareness

Your body's response to September transitions carries important information. It might be telling you that you're taking on too much, that you need more support during change periods, or that certain aspects of the transition deserve more attention, as if to say "This is big. Pay attention. Take care."

By listening to the messages and adjusting accordingly, you will be practicing exactly the kind of nervous system awareness that creates resilience, rather than burnout.

Understanding seasonal patterns helps you plan better, ask for support more effectively, and trust your body's intelligence instead of fighting it.

September will always be a transition month. Your body will always respond to change. We can interpret our responses as information, or dismiss them as inconvenience.

My client, sitting in that café with her neck pain easing and her nervous system finally getting the space it needed, had chosen listening and trust. And in doing so, she'd given herself exactly what September anxiety was asking for all along: recognition, care, and time to adjust.