My adored wee Stitch is plagued by her OCD and anxiety, and it breaks my heart.
She calls the dark fears that haunt her thoughts her “worries”. She will come to me, her aqua-colored eyes filled with unshed tears, and tell me her worries are bothering her. She worries about death, and what happens after. She worries that in the afterlife she won’t remember anything about her life now, and thus could not find the rest of her family there. She worries about the pain and suffering of others. She worries about doing something wrong. She worries I will stop loving her.
I promise her that I will love her for all of eternity, and there is nothing that can ever change that. That is one worry that I can guarantee to be 100% reality free.
The knowledge that her worries are torturing her, that it was likely my DNA that gave her this problem, and that I cannot make things better for her rips big, bleeding gashes down the middle of my soul. If I could unzip my chest cavity and pull her inside to ward off the worries, I would. I hate that I can’t protect her. I hate it.
Last night she had a nightmare. She dreamt that her baby sister, Spock, was blown away in a strong wind. She woke up frantic, and needed to sleep next to Spock for the rest of the night, to make sure all was well. She is, of course, dwelling on that bad dream. Losing Spock is now added to her worries.
My poor little girl.
I know how badly her worries pummel her psyche, because I have them too.
Today, she is on a field trip. My OCD and anxiety have decided to obsess over the idea she might get hurt, especially in regards to the big yellow school bus that is transporting the campers on their adventure. I bravely fought off a panic attack, and kissed her good-bye this morning. I cannot let my fears keep her from enjoying her childhood. She has enough problems, and she doesn’t need to shoulder the burdens of a batshit crazy mother on top of it.
Frankly, I spend every day gritting my teeth and faking normalcy, so my squirreliness doesn’t make things harder for my girls. Today is one of the days when the squirrels are threatening to escape my brain and run amok. You would think my brain would be nutty enough to satisfy a scurry of squirrels, but no.
meep
Newsflash! Even us ‘normal’ (snort, gasp) mothers have squirreliness when it comes to our kids. You’re not alone in this.
And pat yourself on the back for not making a big, humiliating deal out of this for Stitch. She’s worried and making her feel ashamed for her worry would only make things worse. I know this from personal experience. You’re a good mom.
What Robin said. This week I’m fighting off squirreliness because my 11yo gson is away at camp for the first time. 4 hours drive away 6 days and 6 nights. I’ll breathe again Saturday when he’s home.
As to Stitch getting anxiety from you – she also gets something else from you: “I bravely fought off a panic attack, and kissed her good-bye this morning. I cannot let my fears keep her from enjoying her childhood.”
She gets a mother who has bravely faced her issues and will be a glowing example to her daughter; teaching her how to deal with her issues. Not everybody has the kind of courage you do and Stitch will benefit greatly from that.
Oh poor Stitch!
I was like that as a kid (still am). I worried about car crashes, fires, killers, robbers, and the hot metal on sliding boards in the summer. I cannot even begin to list the things I was afraid of.
Does she have a copy of WEMBERLEY WORRIED by Kevin Henkes? If not, I am sending her one asap. FB me to let me know!
Oh how I identify with what you’re going through. Both of you. I received a massive dose of anxiety from my mother and dutifully passed it on to Zoo Keeper. Oddly, BamBam seems to have none of it. He assumes the world around him will meld to his will and, if it doesn’t, he throws a tantrum until it falls into line. I secretly aspire to be him.
At 43, I have finally learned how to insist my mother keep her own anxiety to herself, which helps a lot in managing my own. This is something you are already doing for Stitch and it adds to the already lengthy list of why you are a wonderful mom. In addition, you are making an effort to handle your own anxiety, thus leading by example, and you’re doing your utmost to help Stitch learn to deal with hers. You didn’t mention it in this post, but we all know you are. That’s just how you roll.
So, you’re making it better for her, even though it doesn’t always feel like it. And even though it doesn’t take away one bit of the pain seeing her in pain inflicts. Or the feelings of helplessness you both feel. It’s agony and I hate that either of you has to go through it.
One of Zoo Keepers big worries is natural disasters. He changes which one to focus on day to day and sometimes he worries about several of them at a time. We started making a list of things that were likely to happen and things that were unlikely to happen. For instance, it’s likely that we will go to the zoo next week and it’s unlikely that his school will have a fire. The natural disasters all went on the unlikely list. Then we talked about how we have fire drills so that we’re prepared just in case that very unlikely thing happens. So the thing is unlikely to happen and we have a plan in place just in case it does, so he can remind himself of that when he starts to worry about it. This has helped him a lot with the natural disaster stuff. We’re still working on the rest, as his anxiety sometimes feels like a free-floating amorphous cloud just waiting to find something to glom onto.
I also got him a book called Wilma Jean the Worry Machine by Julia Cook. Wilma Jean’s mom and her teacher help her learn to sort her worries into categories of things she can control and things she can’t and then help her handle each. We haven’t been very consistent with it yet, but it’s on my list of things to do.
FGBVs honey. It’s hard, but you are meeting it head on like you always do. You’re my hero.
Pretty much WEBS. They all said it much better than I could. Sending hugs.
I have no kids, just the anxiety, and it sounds to me like you are doing an awesome job with your kids. I couldn’t even articulate my worries to my parents, but here are your girls, telling you when things bother them. You are an awesome mom and an awesome role model.
Ohh the poor little sweetheart. I’m glad she has a mommy to help her through and understand her.
Just because you’re feeling so helpless, you might want to take a look through Dr Siegel’s book for children:
http://drdansiegel.com/books/the_whole_brain_child/
I was looking through it, reading the cartoons and stuff. I think he teaches you how to teach meditation techniques and the like, to help children manage their states of mind/emotions. I only mention it because someone close to me has a lot of anxieties and Siegel’s book Mindsight was the first thing I found that’s given me some optimism.
Hey BF, I was riddled with anxiety most of my life. The thing that’s helped me the most is the the first three steps of the twelve steps. I don’t know how you might translate that to a wee Stitch, but as you are the Pope, a belief in a higher power won’t be an obstacle for you. I can’t, he/she/it can, better let him/her/it. That looks stoopid written like that but I feel the need to be all inclusive.
When I was really little I couldn’t sleep unless I said this prayer. It helped me to know the angels were there with me. (Actually, sometimes I still have to visualize the angels in order to sleep. I get scared in the dark.) –
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the lord my soul to keep.
Angels guide me through the night
And wake me by the morning light.
Maybe it will help. I’ve lost a lot of my anxiety now, but it sometimes still comes back to haunt me.