Just Breathe

I've been battling anxiety my entire life, so I have no idea what parenting without the challenges of mental illness is like, but I'm sure we all share similar burdens...those of us with the added task of navigating our conditions just have an amplified version.  I'm sure that all parents panic a bit when their child gets hurt. I'm sure that all parents worry when their children are sick.  I'm sure that all parents are nervous about the first day of kindergarten, first dates, first time taking the car out, and all the other first that we have no real control over.  I'm sure all parents, the good ones anyway, care enough to show concern for the well being of their children. However, for those of us living with anxiety, especially death anxiety, those situations can prove to be debilitating...in more ways than one.

Aside from the nervousness and irrational fears that go with anxiety, we have the added luxury of feeling guilty about our anxiety...causing us to worry that we are failures as parents. I've had thoughts many times that I wasn't good enough to be a parent. I've wondered many times if my kids wouldn't have been better off in someone else's care.  Even after stepping back and looking at their successes, I still felt that way.  That's because knowing something and feeling it are very different, and I believe that's a key component to navigating our very delicate mindset.  What you KNOW and what you FEEL are NOT the SAME--but--using proper coping mechanisms, medication, and therapy to your advantage can help you bring those 2 things into alignment.

Four years ago, my son, Jacob, went on his first long distance field trip with his class.  He was 15 then, and though very intelligent, he had his on battles with ADHD and opposition-defiant disorder to deal with, so any time he was away from my influence, I would worry he was going to have a meltdown.  This trip was no different, and in fact, it was worse, because he would be too far away for me to run to the rescue should something happen.  I lay awake all night the night before worrying about all the terrible things that could happen should that delicate chemical imbalance suddenly shift. I remember distinctly one scenario my mind invented -- He's swimming in the ocean and too far out.  A teacher calls to him and insists he return to shore, but his ODD overpowers his rationale and causes him to swim further out to sea.  In minutes, he's overtaken by waves and drowns.  I can see him drowning in my mind's eye. I can feel him gasping for breath, begging for help.  I can hear him calling my name...and I'm too far away.  I scream out into the night, panicking over something that hasn't happened.  I don't want him to go. I'm pacing the floor, trying to find peace.  Nothing helps. I spiral.  I'm sobbing in the floor, clutching handfuls of my own hair, telling myself its silly, unlikely, and insane. I know better...but the panic doesn't stop.  The only thing I can do to make it better is to keep him in the house...with me...forever.

I have spent my whole life a prisoner of my own mind to varying degrees, and there I was moments from making my son a prisoner too.  Did I want that? Did I really want him to suffer the way I have?  I found a moment of clarity in that realization, and I took a breath.  It's such a simple thing, but a deep breath can be ever so cleansing.  It's certainly not a cure, and it doesn't work for long, but it can provide a second's peace to a mind in turmoil, allowing you the precious chance to turn it around - to bring what you KNOW and what you FEEL together.  In that case, I knew Jacob's teachers cared as much for him as I did.  I knew they would keep him safe.  I picked up the itinerary and read it, over and over.  He wasn't going to be swimming in the ocean, just looking in tidal pools.  He was going to be under constant supervision by people he trusted...by people I trust.  I took another breath and the peace lasted a bit long. I thought about the conversations I had had with his teachers.  I looked at their faces in my memory and saw joy, integrity, faith, compassion, strength...I felt better.  Another breath. The anxiety was fading...now I was thinking clearer: "I'm going to need some help over this hump."  I go the medicine cabinet and find my rescue medicine.  I take one, brew a cup of hot tea, and put on some music.  In 30 minutes, I was ok. He was ok.

The rest of that day, I used what I felt in those moments of clarity to keep the anxiety at a minimum.  I reminded myself that I was giving him something that I couldn't always give myself - Freedom. I called some friends, read a book, watched a movie, cuddled with my furbabies, and worked in my garden.  When he came home, I was excited to see him, and he told me all about his adventures by the sea.  He was inspired to pursue a career in science. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he wanted to be a scientist. This past June, he graduated Valedictorian, a Golden State Honors graduate, and accepted into the pre-med program. He wants to be a bio-mechanical engineer and develop cybernetic prosthetic limbs. He's going to change the world for the better. If I had kept him home that day, that moment of inspiration he received on that trip would have been missed.  My anxiety...my irrational fear, very nearly robbed the world of his brilliance.  But it didn't. I think about that and remember. I fought back.  I use that memory to fight now.  Every win building on a previous win for a future win; all working to make what I know and what I feel the same.

When you find yourself lost in fear and anxiety, stop everything and breathe.  As simple as that sounds, as silly as you might think it is...BREATHE.  Take a long, deep, breath and release some frustration.  Feel tensions relax.  Allow your mind to slow.  Even if the calm only lasts for a second, it WILL give you a chance to turn your day around.  Take that moment and FILL IT UP with as many good things as possible. Smile, dream, laugh...even if its forced.  Tell joke, smell a flower, feel the sun on your face...whatever it takes, whatever it is that gives you peace... DO IT! And then breathe again...and do it some more.  You keep breathing and keep dreaming and keep smiling and you KEEP finding reasons to live, love, and laugh, because you're a parent...and that's what WE do.  And if you can't think of your own...you can borrow mine, and we'll get through it together.

Together, we can! Have a great weekend.