Mom's Anxiety

Struggling with a high functioning anxiety disorder causes individuals to change their routines, how they handle social situations, and influences the patterns people make for themselves — Everything from timing when they go to the grocery store to avoid the crowds to what social gatherings to attend. Everyone has their coping strategies, some that work and some that make their anxiety worse. (Great article here about some unusual ways anxiety can affect behavior).

From personal experience, I know that I will refuse to go grocery shopping on my way home. Why? Because that’s when EVERYONE ELSE is going grocery shopping and I just can’t handle the crowds.

On breaks at work, I choose to walk outside listening to my music. My co-workers think I’m dedicated to exercise, when in reality I need a break from people. Even the people that I love. My anxiety disorder supercharges my natural INFJ personality type (aka my introverted-ness).

I know this, I accept this, and I work around this. But my 5-year-old son does not understand.

He begs to go to the park on a Saturday afternoon — when every other parent and child is there.

He begs to go to the zoo later in the day — when it’s super busy.

He LOVES going to the store, any store, for hours! Talking to people, playing with other kids and being a wonderful, lovely, normal little boy.

But some days mommy just can’t. I work two jobs, both require people interaction (one being a call center where I literally talk to 30+ people over the phone a day AND my co-workers). On the weekends he’s with his dad, I stay home. I go nowhere. I see no one. I recharge.

Weekends he’s with me I try to push past my anxiousness and function like a “normal” person. I push through the “Oh no there’s people” red flags and I try. But he sees it, the struggle. He sees mommy is not having fun at the park or the zoo. He sees my anxiety hit its peak when I’m three people deep into the canned food aisle at the store and I'm about to run out screaming because that family just walked past us and oh dear god here comes another person with a cart!

Then the negative self-talk starts to happen (“I’m in the way”, “I’m annoying that random person 20 feet from me”, “I’m a terrible mom not being able to shop”) and I spiral, the breathing gets shallow, the palms get sweaty, the room starts to spin. And he sees it. Even if I say nothing, it’s like I have a TV screen on my chest that plays out the drama like a show.

So what can I do? I’ve had my anxiety disorder my whole life. It’s unpacked and is here to stay forever. But now my coping mechanisms, my weird habits, my odd behaviors are negatively impacting my son. He stops asking to do fun things, because he sees the pain I go through. Unacceptable. His job is to have FUN, not take care of me.

Someone asked me “What is your plan, to shelter him from this so your issues don’t become his issues?”

I got angry, how DARE they accuse me of pushing my “issue” onto my son. How DARE they boil down something OUT OF MY CONTROL into an “issue.” It's not an "issue,” it's an illness. That’s when it clicked. That’s when I understood that people have an unhealthy view of mental illness. So I responded, with as much kindness as I could muster in my enraged state:

“I DON’T “shelter” him from it. I talk to him and educate him about it.”

I explain what anxiety feels like bubbling up in my chest. I tell him when I start to feel overwhelmed and what overwhelmed feels like. I explain to him what to do if, heaven forbid, I have a full blown debilitating panic attack (rare, but it happens). I give him the tools to see the anxiety rise in me even before I realize it and instructions on how to help me come back into myself.

When we go to the park, I find a bench within sight of the playground, but away from the majority of the people and I tell him “If you don’t see mommy next to you, I’ll be here.” We go to the Zoo in the morning. We go to the store later at night (but before bedtime). I tell him why why why. I explain to him what what what, and I above all else do NOT shelter him. I do NOT lie to him. I tell him the truth in a way he can understand.

I realized that THIS is where he will learn how to cope with mental illness. Right here, right now, standing in the middle of a store with people running around and mommy holding on to his stuffed toy for dear life —THAT moment is when he will learn what to do when he sees a friend, stranger, classmate etc. panicking.

I don’t need to shelter him from my anxiety. I need to turn my anxiety into a learning tool for him.

I know it’s working because last week a little girl started her first day in his class (three months into the school year). She was understandably uncertain, scared, and overwhelmed by the new environment. They went to recess and she stood stuck in the middle of the playground, too scared to move. Overwhelmed, lost, and without anyone she knew there.

My son? He took his stuffed toy (Mars the dog) and gave it to her and said “Here! When I get scared I just hug mars as HARD as I can and he helps chase the bad feeling away!” And now he has a new best friend because MY anxiety “issue” showed him what signs to look for and what he can do to help.

Bottom line, I will protect my son from the dangers of this world as much as I can. I will shelter him from rain storms, and bad guys, and monsters in the closet for as long as he will let me. And I will educate my son on mental illness.