Number 3 has always had issues with anxiety, but when he was four, that’s when it really started to get bad.
He was petrified that he would get locked in the car or his room, and so anytime he was in a room alone, the door had to be left open so that he knew he wasn’t going to be trapped.
He was partially just born this way.
And then when these issues started to make themselves apparent, I did things to enable Number 3 and make his anxiety worse rather than make it better.
I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t know any better.
Then he actually got trapped in his room, and his anxiety levels flew through the roof.
From that point on, we went through a really bad period.
When we were home, Number 3 would have to check to see where I was every five minutes.
No joke.
He would call out my name, and if I didn’t answer immediately and he couldn’t see exactly where I was, he would become hysterical.
Like really hysterical. And he would sprint from room to room until he saw me.
It was not good.
Every night he would also wake up and rush downstairs in the middle of the night to check and make sure I was still home.
I was sure he was fucked up for life, and that I had contributed to it and that I would never be able to help him.
I was wrong.
We had another victory tonight.
One that, especially five years ago when he was frantically running around the house screaming, MOMMY? MOMMY? MOMMY! WHERE ARE YOU??!?? MMMOOOOOMMMMMYYYY???, I never ever thought we would have.
Tonight, for the first time ever, Number 3 is sleeping over at a friend’s house.
And it’s not even someone whose house he’s been to many times before.
Today was the first day he ever went to this kid’s house.
He knows him. They are on the same bus. And they were on the same baseball team last summer.
But that’s the extent of it.
So today he went to this friend’s house to play after school.
And when I went to pick him up, he came running around the house asking if he had to leave.
Because he really wanted to sleep over.
Holy shit.
I said yes. In an instant.
Five years ago, I never thought I’d see this day.
I really thought Number 3 was going to be crippled by anxiety for his entire life.
But I was wrong.
And while everything isn’t perfect, well,
I’m not worried. About a thing.
Cause every little thing, gonna be all right.
Thank you for making me Number 1!
PLEASE KEEP VOTING!!!!
Click on the banner below and you have registered your vote for me!
When I was in kindergarten I was afraid of the cafeteria doors. My parents used to call me Very Worried Walrus.
My older brother had a phase where he was so scared of death that my parents had to listen to his heart every night to see if he was alive.
Also, he had a meltdown after swallowing some toothpaste, because it killed cavities. They have to convince him that he was not a cavity and was safe.
As we grow up, he became scared of getting sick. My parents had him in therapy. When I was 3 years old and he was teasing me, I used a secret weapon and told him: You are going to die. It worked. Now he’s a successful engineer with 2 kids of his own, he just needed time.
My parents strategy was to distract him. He learned how to read when he was 4 years old, my grandparents bought him a world map puzzle and he learned the location of every country. Knowledge was the key to become more confident, just like sports was the key for number 3.
Sorry about my english, is not my primary language.
Aaaah! That is so wonderful. As a mama of a kiddo who also suffers from anxiety, I can imagine your excitement!