Halfway through Gracie's Kindergarten year, I wrote about her extreme anxiety. At that point in time, I was just starting to accept that she was dealing with this issue; it was becoming increasingly obvious as she went through her first year of school that there was more going on with her than just shyness, timidness, and stubbornness. I was watching her carefully, talking with her at home about what I was watching, trying to figure out what game she was playing. Being clingy to mom in unfamiliar situations is one thing; being uncomfortable talking to people she doesn't know is one thing; being sad when she has to be away from home is one thing; but being so desperately clingy to mom, even in familiar situations; being unable to talk to people that she does know; being sad even at home...well, that all points to something way more! After much observation, conversation, and research, it started to add up to something identifiable...anxiety. Extreme anxiety, which at 6 years old, she was completely unable to express or understand. She just knew that she was worried; all the time, about little things, big things, often times about nothing. She just knew that she felt frozen, literally unable to move or speak, when faced with situations that put her on the spot. She just knew that she felt put on the spot any time anybody talked to her. She just knew that she was causing mom and dad to be frustrated a lot, pushing them to the edge when she couldn't cooperate with simple requests or answer the "why" about her behavior. She just knew that she was overcome with worry, that her mind would not stop thinking about the unknowns, the what-ifs, the maybe-this-or-maybe-that.
As it started to become clear to me that she was suffering from anxiety, I read as much as I could find about childhood anxiety. I read case after case that were just like her; I talked with others who had dealt with similar types of behaviors in their children (including my own mother, as both of my sisters deal with anxiety). I talked with her teacher, asked questions at her doctor appointment. I talked with my husband at length, because it was becoming more clear to me that he, too, suffers from some anxiety, and that as a child, he dealt with many of the same feelings that Gracie was dealing with. I watched Gracie's behavior even more carefully, and tried techniques I was reading about to help calm her, to help ease the anxiety. I helped her use tools we were learning when she was faced with situations that were uncomfortable, uncertain, and just plain difficult for her. I tried to explain to others why she was behaving as she was. I tried to understand for myself why she was behaving as she was! I wrote, in hopes of helping to explain to family and friends, to those who had asked us "why" so many times before, in hopes of forcing myself to understand. http://www.sufficientgrace7.blogspot.com/2014/03/parenting-anxious-child.html
And life went on, as it has a way of doing. Kindergarten finished, first grade began. Another new situation; new teacher, all-day schedule, busy classroom full of active classmates. We continued to work with Gracie, to push her when she needed pushing, to advocate for her when she needed advocating, to talk to her about what she was feeling, what was going on inside her head, inside her body. We struggled, her dad and I. We struggled alongside her, because as parents you want nothing more than to see your child happy, adjusted, and "normal". We struggled because she pushed us to the brink so often, to that point of frustration where you find yourself yelling, even though you know it's futile. I struggled because I just couldn't understand. I couldn't make sense of it, of why she wouldn't/couldn't just do what I wanted her to do.
And then, I stopped.
I gave up trying to understand.
I gave up trying to make sense of that which I wouldn't/couldn't understand.
Instead, I accepted.
I accepted that, even though I didn't like it and I didn't want it for my child, this was how it was going to be for Gracie. Anxiety was going to cause her to feel more than a child should feel; to worry more than a child should worry; to stress more than a child should stress. Anxiety was going to make certain situations very difficult for her to handle; it was going to make some situations impossible for her to handle. Anxiety was her reality. Anxiety IS her reality. With her second grade year now underway, and her 8th birthday on the horizon, she is making progress in understanding for herself how anxiety affects her, and how she can overcome it. She continues to "do courage" and her motto remains "be brave". She is learning to speak up for herself, to advocate for herself, to express herself better. She is learning to face scary, unknown situations without clinging to mom. She is trying harder to talk when spoken to, to not let the freezing take over as often.
There are those who tell me that I've unnecessarily put a label on my child. There are those who tell me that I'm holding Gracie back by giving her this "crutch" to use when she doesn't want to do something. There are those who tell my I'm babying her, I'm not forcing her to deal with things herself, I this-that-and-the-other. Truth be told, nothing that anybody has said to me is something I haven't already said to myself. Truth be told, I hesitated a lot before using the word 'anxiety' in front of Gracie. Truth be told, I wish I could force her to do anything! Truth be told...anxiety is her reality, and she deserves to know that there is a name for all those feelings she feels too much; for all that worrying she does; for all those scary times that she feels frozen. She deserves to know that anxiety takes hold of her in those moments, that there isn't anything 'bad' or 'wrong' about her.
In the knowing, Gracie has found some freedom. She can place a name to those feelings, those worries, those stresses, and in doing so she knows what she is trying to overcome.
In the accepting, I have found some freedom. Letting others know that Gracie suffers from extreme anxiety is not labeling my child; it is putting a name to behavior that is misunderstood as rudeness or stubbornness. Yes, there are times that Gracie is just being rude or playing a game of stubbornness to see what she can get away with. But more often, Gracie is faced with a chemical reaction in her body that causes her to freeze and takes away her ability to speak; this is very real for her. You don't have to understand, but I do hope you will accept. I hope you will give her a chance to work through it; give her time to be able to get the words out. I hope you will accept that her behavior has nothing to do with you; it's not about liking/disliking or trusting/distrusting you. I hope you will stop trying to understand her, and simply start accepting her.
I don't understand my daughter's anxiety, but I accept that anxiety is her reality.
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