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.