Anxiety – a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.

We live in a world today where the words “anxious” and “anxiety” are part of our daily, perhaps hourly, vernacular.  For some of us, it is simply a feeling that comes and goes; nothing, more than passing moments due to specific circumstances.  For others, anxiety has been a formal diagnosis by a mental health professional.  It is not fleeting.  It is not something that is situational, although there may be situations which make the anxiety worse or stronger.  It may not always be active but it is always THERE.

I fall into the latter category as do two of my daughters.  Somehow during the COVID-19 pandemic, the three of us have managed to do a pretty good job of keeping our anxiety in check.  Of course, that doesn’t mean that there have not been moments where the anxiety was at a higher level.

 

For those who don’t live with anxiety as a regular part of their lives, it may be hard to understand.  Perhaps, the words of one of my girls can explain it best.

After a few days of her acting out and just not being herself, I sat her down to talk.  Anxiety was nothing new for her.  She’s been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, so it is something that we have been handling for a bit now.  But her attitude had shifted.  We sat and talked. I asked her what was wrong and she just started crying.  She explained that she didn’t mean to act out, that she knew she was overreacting to things.  She explained that she didn’t want to be that way.  And then she said the words that I know all too well.

“I feel a tightness in my chest.”  She touched her chest to show me where.  “I just can’t breathe.  I don’t know why.” 

My heart broke at the words.  I knew how she felt.  More importantly, I knew how hard it was for her to admit to me that she felt that way.  I was beyond proud of her for it as we have been working on having difficult conversations (something she has found herself doing more of recently).

Now, I must say, the first several weeks of quarantine were wonderful for her.  She went to “class”, learned what her teachers were able to teach via Zoom, talked to the friends she wanted to and didn’t have to deal with the kids she didn’t (it is middle school after all), and we had family dinner and activities almost every night.  For this child, it was practically her dream (aside from getting an agent and breaking into the entertainment industry, that is).

But then something shifted.  Quarantine didn’t end.  Virtual School kept getting extended.  My husband and I began working longer hours.  And then the final straw.  Terrible comments were directed at her on an acting account on social media that she shared with two friends.  It became pretty clear that all of this was taking a toll on her.

 

As a parent, one of the hardest things you have to do is watch your children suffer.  And this child has suffered plenty due to chronic health issues (a topic for another post) among other things.

 

As she talked, she described how she was feeling.  She’s the youngest of three girls and while my girls are very close, they are sisters and have their moments.  As the youngest sister, she tends to feel that she gets ganged up on by the others (Of course, each of the other girls would say the same thing about them!)  She discussed how things with her sisters were bothering her.  She discussed how the situation with her friend really affected her.  She couldn’t understand WHY this girl did what she did and said what she said.  She just didn’t understand.  It made her sad. (OF COURSE IT DID!)

 

We talked and I asked her how I could help her.  She hadn’t seen her therapist since before quarantine started.  She didn’t think it was necessary and, frankly, I think she was a little nervous about teletherapy.  The week prior, I had a “catch up” appointment with her therapist for some guidance.  My daughter peaked in to say hello.   She has seen me have weekly teletherapy visits with my therapist since quarantine started (something I have found to be invaluable).

 

During the conversation, my daughter asked about taking medicine.

We’d had a brief conversation about it before but it was more theoretical and also in conjunction as a possible prophylactic medication for her migraines..  She knew one of her sisters and I take medicine and sees how it helps.  But for her to ask, I knew it had to be difficult. 

There are many parents out there who may disagree with putting a 12 year old on medication for anxiety or depression.  I think at one time I may have been that person.  But then I understood.  I understood the feeling in your chest, your belly when you feel like you have no control over your thoughts and feelings, and, at times, your reactions.

 

We continued to discuss the possibility of medication.  In doing so, I told her that we would discuss it with her pediatrician but ONLY if she began to see her therapist regularly.

 

To my surprise, she was totally onboard.  Once the appointment was made, we set her up on the computer for the virtual appointment.  She joined the appointment on her own,  I was in a training so I popped my  head in during a break.  She was doing well.  Even better, she scheduled the next appointment on her own.  She has since had another appointment and at the end scheduled the next.

Sometimes, it takes a push to get us where we need to be.  She’s been on medication for a few weeks now.  She seems to be doing better.  It may simply be that she knows that we are on top of it and that we are helping her.  Giving her the security to express herself and her feelings, to know that no matter what she is going through, that I will be there (with her father) to support her.  That we love her.

While I hope that her anxiety doesn’t last forever, the likelihood is that it will.  And no matter what, I will be there to help her through it and to support her as best I can.

And most importantly, she knows that I am there for her.