My whole life I have been in the closet about anxiety. A few times literally ( I slept on the floor of my closet to hide from burglars). People say all the time that I am type B, Laid back, easy going. And I am. Sort of. About some things. The problem is anxiety doesn't look like you probably think it does unless you have it too. It isnt always the kid throwing up before the big game. Or the preschooler hanging onto her mom's leg so she won't leave. I mean, it is those things but it can look like a whole lot of other things too. With me it often looks like obsessive thinking over every minute detail of every conversation so that I just don't sleep at night. It means second-guessing decisions it means forcing myself to believe that I have done everything I can do after a lot of positive self talk. It means I will avoid doing certain things that should be easy because they are unfamiliar until I have no other choice. But all of this is taking a lifetime to get there.
My kids it's a whole different animal. It looks like crying and very inappropriate times. Means panic tears and yelling over things that other people don't even care about. It looks a lot like defiance sometimes. But after years in therapy we realize that sometimes defiance isn't because you don't want to comply it's because you can't comply. It means obsessing over stuff to the point you push other kids away because they just don't get why you care that much. It means training harder than everyone else just to make sure you don't mess up. And when mess up you do, it means hours of worry, uncertainty, and replay. It makes you your own worst critic. It means that every small change is a big change. It means that when your coach teacher or mentor says the wrong thing to you it might take months to get over instead of just hours like a kid your age normally does. As a parent the problem is I can't pre-warn everybody on how my kids are going to feel about what they say and do. Instead I have to teach and reteach coping skills to kids who resist learning them because it is uncomfortable to be vulnerable. It means meeting after meeting to get your child a diagnosis as disabled emotionally. Yay? It means explaining time after time that special Ed does not always mean cognitively impaired. That yes, he is smart, but that does not mean accommodations are inappropriate. And most of all it means adjusting my mommy expectations to meet the abilities of my kids emotionally not just physically and mentally. It means never running out of medication that is working even if means driving and hour out of the way, or rearranging The schedule of an entire family to not miss a doctors appointment because we know how real this disorder is. It's not just mental weakness. It is a physical problem for which there is- at least on some level, relief. On some level, it means moving to a place where you hope things will be enough different to help them cope with the day to day.
After noticing the all to familiar signs that took first time parents years to recognize, it is crystal clear with Hadley. She is such a high strung achiever. Everything is a BIG deal. But this time around I feel like we are doing a better job with heading it off. Some of that is probably personality, some of it may be level of suffering. Interestingly enough, I learned about EO right when I was starting to ponder a treatment plan. I am all about western medicine. But if I can find a natural alternative to Zoloft- I'll try it. ( that's coming from someone who is so thankful to the makers of said medication for being the right fit for my other child that I should appear on their poster). I don't want her ties to a doctor month after month for the rest of her life. Right now, Valor is working. She is using it for test days, and we tried it, (in addition to allergy roll on which works awesome for her too btw) on Sunday before soccer. She did great. No tears or panic. We are trying to "not sweat the small stuff". After all there is so much big stuff to attend to.
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