There is a group of children I see in my clinic which breaks my heart more than any other.

They are not disruptive. They are not aggressive or “badly behaved”. They are what I call “cocooned” – sheltered from the world, always with good intention.

These children live almost entirely in their bedrooms. Food is brought to them. Plates are taken away. Days pass without stepping outside. Sometimes weeks go by without meaningful human contact beyond a screen.

Their parents are loving, attentive, and exhausted – bewildered by how family life has quietly collapsed around a child who is physically present, yet increasingly absent.

This situation doesn’t arrive overnight. It creeps in silently, dismantling routines, relationships and hope. Holidays are cancelled. Family events disappear. Siblings adapt around the absence. The child becomes hostage in their own home – and by default, so do their parents.

Almost without exception, these children are neurodivergent: autistic, ADHD, or both. Many went undiagnosed for years. Others were diagnosed too late, once burnout had already taken hold.

Families arrive in my clinic in crisis, convinced they have failed their child. They haven’t – but anxiety has won.

How withdrawal happens

Children do not wake up one morning and decide to disappear from life. Withdrawal happens slowly, driven by anxiety that is allowed to grow unchecked.

It starts with the odd day off school. A morning where anxiety feels too big to manage. Then another. Attendance becomes part-time. Then impossible.

At first, friendships continue, but school is the thread that binds childhood relationships together. As........

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