Patience

One of the frustrating features of my son’s anxiety is the ‘shut down’ mode.

Once he has begun to over process whatever it is that has him worried, he becomes incommunicative. As a parent, this is when I want to get him to talk about it and figure out what is causing his anxiety.

But, the reality is, until he is able to learn better coping skills, he is not going to be able to have a rational conversation.

This is something that requires patience…from me. He is working on gaining those skills, it is not up to me, or anyone else, what that timeline should look like in terms of how long it takes him to acquire the skills he needs to be healthy.

The other frustration is the regression during the anxiety attack. My very rational, intelligent teenager becomes a scared, irrational six year old.

Some of this is what happens during PTSD, as well, the sufferer is actually taken back to the emotion felt at the time of the trauma. If my son experienced a trauma to cause a phobia when he was younger, that’s how he appears during the panic attack.

It’s not only frustrating, but it’s a little unsettling. I feel helpless and concerned, and at the same time, I want to shake him and tell him to act like a fifteen year old, not a six year old.

Of course, that is absolutely NOT the way to react, it’s just the initial reaction that I feel like doing. But, I have learned from experience that talking to the anxious six year-old brain like it’s a rational fifteen year-old brain ends in further withdrawal, greater anxiety, and lots of remorse for both of us afterwards.

Patience.

That’s the only thing I can say is the one constant needed to deal with anxiety. You can’t have patience without understanding and trust. You can, however, have understanding and trust without patience, and I think that’s where many of us run into difficulty as parents, some times.

Patience doesn’t mean letting the anxiety get it’s way all the time, though. That’s the very tricky balance.

We have to figure out when to push and when not to. When to be stern and when to give space. For me, it’s like learning new dance steps that probably look ridiculous to anyone watching.

I am constantly starting, stopping, faltering, trying again…

I never was very coordinated to begin with, but it’s kind of humbling to not know how to do something I thought I was pretty good at until now, which is probably exactly how my son feels at the moment, too.

Patience.