adult children, anxiety, family, identity, life, purpose

Getting here…

I am a mother. I am a mother with anxiety. I was a child with anxiety that grew into an adult with anxiety. I have children with anxiety. I feel like when I write this it is different than when I speak it.  When I try to talk to someone about having anxiety, I feel the average person questions it. It is a label, not an understanding.

I’ve been told when I’m in an emotional state over something that it’s better to push that feeling away and stay focused… “keep working and stay busy, that feeling will go away!”  What I know is that is called suppressing your feelings, not fully acknowledging what is showing up for you and not dealing with it. With all of my heart and soul I do not agree that this is good practice, those feelings are going to turn up some how some way! Sometimes in bad habits, bad decisions and even physical pain.  I like to deal with things head on ~ when they are directly in front of me, I don’t set it aside and pretend it’s not there! Most people I know don’t have time for all of this self reflection and dealing with it… it is all business and there is no time for feelings.

Until my children reached the age that they were beginning to feel crippled from this disease themselves my husband and I helped them without professionals. I would read and learn and teach them. We would practice breathing techniques and learned to find ways to shift their negative mind.  My sons anxiety has been evident and present since he was 3 years old. My daughter’s didn’t become evident and spoken of until she was college age when she developed depression along with her anxiety.

My story now is that I feel such new struggles with mine since my children have grown.  I believe motherhood may have given me a way to hide. My social anxieties were relieved with going places as a family and my focus could be on my children, not on me.  It helped me to feel comfortable and have something to “do” or someone to always talk to.  I have felt it get worse and worse as the kids don’t need me as much, but now, with them gone off to college and my husband and I learning to be just us, it is feeling scary.  I believe it may be scary for the average person but with anxiety it feels magnified. Horrifying really.

I wonder… How will I have a conversation and not have a way “out” -The “Excuse me… I’ll be right back I need to go help my son.”  and never return.  I always had an escape from what was uncomfortable. I am feeling like I should own up to something I’ve tried to hide most of my life.  Tell people, explain myself to others. Why am I so ashamed of this?  Why is it such a big reveal? Maybe it has already presented in many of my life situations and I’m the only one not facing it? It’s been a lifetime of feeling like this… questions, shame, guilt, ridicule.  All the things I have coached my children to not fall into the trap of, all the while trying to help myself.  The answer to why I don’t own up to it… reveal it… is because I have attempted to do so to some of my closest friends and family and there often feels there isn’t much understanding. Just blank stares with words behind the glare that feel uncomfortable. Because there are no words I make up my own. I can hear their words without them even saying them.  A childhood full of being told not to be “so sensitive”, that everything’s not always about me. Not feeling supported when I needed reassurance on things I felt I had done well.  I did need a lot of reassurance, school didn’t come as easily to me as it did for my sister. I loved art, I loved being creative, I loved drawing with my grandmother.  The things I found important and valuable were often not shared by others.  I honestly do not remember doing much right.

I am strange. I am different. I have known this for a long time, even as a young child. I most often felt misunderstood, I often feel those same feelings today.  I am a work in progress, aren’t we all? I live everyday to try to understand myself better and find peace in other’s perspectives. Forgiving for hurts I felt. I often share what I have learned with others who will listen. This makes me strange.  In a world of move faster and achieve greater things than the person standing beside you, I am SO different. I am not in any form of a race with any individual to get to any type of end point. I am on a journey. I believe that each situation I am faced with and each person that crosses my path has something to give me – maybe in the form of wisdom, growth, or maybe just joy.

I work with children in a school as my profession. I love children. I love the innocence, the truth and honesty they convey. I am brought great joy through a child’s smile.  I work as a paraprofessional in a school, my colleagues are lead teachers who want kids to perform well… achieve, achieve, achieve… I want them to be, be, be.  My love for the kids shines through everyday ~ some people embrace this and others do not. I remember being a struggling child. I came from a great home, a two parent household, my parents worked at home, we were taught respect, from the outside looking in I had no reason to struggle, but I was. I know now that it was my anxiety. I can remember testing in school… I would freeze up, I knew nothing, absolutely nothing. I felt so stupid. I still often feel stupid. That little girl is still inside of me… fearful, shameful, misunderstood.  I identify with children who struggle in this way. Being a paraprofessional I feel I have a unique opportunity to connect with children and be available to help them.  I work in our town’s elementary school library, after years of being there I feel it is my calling.

I have great empathy for individuals in pain. Not just people I know, but people I see in distress, I want to be able to help people who suffer.  It is programmed inside of me and I often feel if I know someone hurts and I do not aid in making it better than I have failed. I am often left exhausted over situations that I could never have changed or helped but spend so much energy on wishing I could have.

“As you grow older, you will discover you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.”  ~ Audrey Hepburn