Tag: childhood anxiety

Post 9: Appreciating the Journey

I fell off the wagon, and I’m pretty sure the back wheel ran over me as it continued on its way, leaving me face down in the dirt.

And that’s completely fine. In fact, I waved as I watched that wagon disappear on the horizon.

After meeting with my therapist last week I realized that the prize of this process for me isn’t actually in achieving my goals, but rather is the appreciation for and focus on the journey. It is in my being mindful of my actions, how I manage my time, and what I’m choosing to prioritize.

For example, in recognizing that I have an incredibly hard time waking up in the morning, exhausted and tired even after more than 8 hours of sleep, I have since started taking vitamins. Iron, vitamin C, vitamin D and b-complex are now part of my morning routine. When I don’t take them, I figure it out about 2pm when my body is begging me to nap, even after many hours of sleep the night before. Serotonin levels, gut health, anxiety … all of these contribute negatively to energy levels and weight gain. Bad!

To help with this, my therapist and I discussed Successive Approximation and how putting it into practice could reshape my responses to specific situations. For instance, instead of setting my alarm for 6am when I’m used to waking up at 8am (this is too drastic of a gap for me), this method would have me setting my alarm for 7:45am and not allowing the snooze button to be pushed. Once I am doing that easily, next I would set the alarm for 7:30am and so on. Small steps with rewards for when I head in the right direction.

Successive Approximation is acting in a way that gets you closer and closer to the desired behavior. For people like me, I visualize a desired result and then overwhelm myself by assuming there’s no other way to get over the mountain except in one leap. Of course this isn’t the only way, but my brain tends toward the extreme options. Making small, accessible changes that increase gradually also increases the likelihood you’ll get over that mountain. I’ve always been an “I want it now” person, and I’m hoping that I’ll be able to look back on these posts one day and see a drastic change that was so gradual I never even realized it was happening.

In addition to all of this, my son started seeing a child psychologist a few weeks ago and she is working with him through play therapy. He’s learning to realize his anxiety, label it, talk about it, and bring himself down from it. He colors, he plays, he listens to soft music, he learns to belly breathe and meditate, etc. It’s only been a few sessions and I’ve noticed a difference already in his confidence. As I know full well, sometimes just having the knowledge you aren’t alone with your frustration gives you enough fortitude to stare down any uncertainty.

In order to continue his practices in the home environment I’ve picked up these books recommended to me by friends. Learning to be still, quiet and mindful are possibly the most powerful skills one can possess. I will post updates as we work through the books together.

The fourth book, Start Balancing by Kristy Dickerson, was given to me by a friend and mentor who’s also a fellow mom/entrepreneur. It’s a guided journal to self discovery and defining success. In the opening quote to this journal I underlined the sentence that reads “I believe I was intended to fail, to struggle, and to face defeat in order to learn how to succeed.”

These might be the most self-reflective words that I’ve identified with in some time. When it comes to goal-setting, I continue to fail because I have not learned enough about myself to set them successfully from the beginning.

And that, my friends, is what this journey is all about.

Day 7: Comfort Items

My sweet boy has been struggling lately. Especially when it comes to digging deep inside of him for the courage to go to school.

Some kids jump up at the thought of seeing their friends and teachers, and seeing what new object will be featured on the sensory table or in the discovery center of their classroom. My child loves all of those things too, but he is completely overwhelmed with the “what if” thoughts and the crippling worries he associates with getting into that classroom.

Every morning he tries to stall our routine. Every morning he argues with me about what clothes he’s going to wear and how scratchy they are or how big the tags are. Every morning he argues with me about going to the bathroom. Every morning he takes forever to eat breakfast. No matter when I wake him up, he adjusts his procrastinating accordingly, hoping that if he does just enough to make us behind in getting out the door then I’ll throw my hands up in defeat and declare it a stay-at-home day. That never happens, but bless his heart how he tries.

Today as we were about to run out the door (per our usual exit strategy) he had to run back in to get his stuffed puppy that his Nana gave him for Christmas. He wasn’t a big stuffed animal kid until just a few months ago, and his clinginess to them has recently accelerated. I told him he could bring his puppy in the car but he couldn’t take it into school. He said he was going to do it anyway. He’s four, after all, and they tend to (try to) do what they want.

We drove to school, chatting lightly about things and saying “hi” to an iron stick man sculpture and a crazy tree we see on our route. I rounded the school parking lot in the car line pattern and pull up to the front so G can get out. He gets out of the car and looks in his tote basket, quickly realizing his puppy isn’t in there. He turns back to the car and desperately asks for Fluffy. I can see the panic seeping into his eyes. He’s pleading with me with that look, and I can’t say no even though I know he’s not supposed to bring outside toys to class. I can tell it’s a day he needs a little extra comfort from home.

At pickup, several hours later, he’s walked to the car by one of his teachers. He looks sad. He’s in “shut down” mode and I’m immediately wondering what happened. His teacher leans in the car and tells me they had an issue with his puppy because he was told not to take it outside because he would get dirty and that maybe puppy was better left in the safe, warm car during school. I interpreted that as “lady, follow the rules and don’t let your kid bring toys from home.” She was nice about it, but note taken.

G was visibly and verbally upset. He told me “they said I can’t bring my puppy back, never ever ever again.” He has two classes in a day. His morning class and then lunch bunch, which has completely different teachers. I asked him what his first class teachers said and he said “she didn’t even care. She was asking me questions about Fluffy and even said maybe one of the days all of the kids could bring a stuffy from their own house.”

He was pretty confused why one half of his day was supportive of his comfort item and the other half didn’t embrace it. His first class teachers are aware of his struggles with anxiety and are a bit more compassionate in allowing him to do what he feels he needs to do to cope. His second class teachers may not be aware of how severe his anxiety can become.

He doesn’t always want to bring his stuffed animal with him places, but I can always tell what kind of a day he’s having based on his level of attachment to whatever item/toy he chooses to cling to. If he’s experiencing any emotional discomfort he will not leave the house or car without a toy in his hand. It’s needless to say, he’s had some pretty rough days lately.

And needless to say, I’m very much looking forward to immersing him in play therapy with his psychologist so we can start tackling those anxiety-coping skills.

That all said … teachers, I have a small request. If you have a student who is carrying around an object or a toy even if the rules don’t allow for them … I implore you to please consider the child’s individual personality and reasons for carrying said toy before you risk embarrassing them or causing increased levels of anxiety by pointing out their “mistake” in bringing it. That toy might be the only thing that got them through the school doors that day.

Hoping for a happier day tomorrow.

P.S. while I’m struggling most days with my own anxiety, I’m thankful for the blessing of empathy for G. He will not have to fight this alone and will always, always, always have someone with a deep understanding and who loves him unconditionally in his corner.

Day 6: end of the vacation

  • Post daily for 365 days.
  • Grow out hair for 365 days.
  • Post daily gratitude for 365 days.
  • Lose 40-lbs in one year.
  • Gluten-free. Day 6/90
  • In bed by 10pm and awake by 6am. Day 0/7
  • 30 Days of Yoga. Day still 2/30

    • I’m a little late with my post (and my bedtime) but I am having to play a bit of catch up as we just returned home from our weekend getaway. It still counts as “today” if I haven’t gone to sleep yet. My blog, my rules.

    I had the best time with my family on this little trip. We had a few reasons for going even though it was so last minute and I’m glad we took the time to do it.

    At our parent/therapist meeting after our son’s evaluation with the child psychologist a few topics obviously came up, one of them being his fear of swimming underwater, or letting go and swimming unattended even on the surface. He’s been going to swim classes but the coaches always want to rush him into dunking his head under the water before he is ready to give consent. His therapist suggested we go swimming as a family together so he builds up confidence in a trusting and fun environment, and to take video to play him repetitively to show him he can in fact swim and have fun doing it. He put his face underwater on his own and we got video, so I’m hoping it helps him! He also learned a new trick with the pool noodle.

    I really didn’t want to come home after such a lovely time with the two people I love most in the world. But like all good things, it had to come to an end. So my husband could go back to work and not get paid.

    Speaking of that whole working without pay thing, we were walking on a trail in Assateague looking for ponies. We were successful in finding their poop and my son, who has discovered a love for binoculars, had to inspect it. I feel like there’s a metaphor happening in this photo that could work for our current government and politics in general. Something to the effect of “no matter how close you look at it, you’re still looking at shit.”

    So for my daily gratitude, I’m thankful for my sense of humor, because it’s about the only thing that’s going to get us through this government shutdown. I just wish I could pay the bills with it.

    Gluten free progress is going well. I had a grilled chicken salad at McDonald’s today and it wasn’t half bad! Some things really surprise me.

    Day 4: I break for anxiety

  • Post daily for 365 days.
  • Grow out hair for 365 days.
  • Post daily gratitude for 365 days.
  • Lose 40-lbs in one year.
  • Gluten-free. Day 4/90
  • In bed by 10pm and awake by 6am. Day 3/7
  • 30 Days of Yoga. Day 3/30

    • This update is taking a bit of a different turn that my usual posts. In addition to the promises I’m making to myself, I am also vowing to be more aware and compassionate with regard to my son’s struggles. And sometimes, if I’ve being brutally honest, that is so damn hard.

    It’s impossible to describe the heartache I feel on a daily basis when I see evidence of Grant’s anxiety play out. We’ve been out of our usual routine for the past few weeks because of Christmas and when it came time to get him to school yesterday I couldn’t shake him from his incoherent screaming, so we didn’t go and went back to sleep instead. This morning we did some talking about school and some visualization practice on what a day at school is like, which eventually convinced him to go.

    But we were late and missed the carline, so I had to walk him in. His pace slowed more and more the closer we got to his room. Once inside and he saw the other kids he didn’t want to let me go. Crying and clinging as his teacher gently tried to peel him off of me. I know he’ll be fine eventually and will have fun, but walking away from him in that moment is the worst feeling. Leaving him in tears means I also leave in tears.

    We had him evaluated by a child psychologist and after our meeting with her yesterday his diagnosis is worse than I even suspected. She said he’s emotionally immature for his age. But if you’re dealing with emotions bigger than you, that you can’t even understand much less talk about, I can see why “immaturity” might occur. It’s a debilitating condition. Shoot, I’m still emotionally immature myself some days.

    He’ll start weekly play therapy with her and we’re now to do daily mindfulness practices to help him learn to recognize when he’s experiencing the uncomfortable feelings and how to bring himself to a calm place so he can focus. I’m hoping to get him to a good place before kindergarten next year.

    This is all so hard on my heart. Anxiety is real, folks. And children can have it, too, and it can really hinder their development. Most adults can’t manage their anxiety appropriately, so now imagine that in a four-year old body. It’s up to us as parents to give them the resources and tools they need to be successful, to be their advocates when they’re hurting. It’s up to us to resist dismissing it as typical four-year old behavior. It might be so much more complicated than that.

    This is so hard.