Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Walking the Walk

You wanna know what's crazy? Talking to your kid about fear when you have had panic disorder for as long as you can remember.

Jack is in a fearful stage. He's scared of the dark, scared to be places by himself. He makes Ryker tag along, or Tugboat, or one of us. It generally is fine, and I know it's a stage that he'll pass through. Even if he doesn't, I know the warning signs all too well and will be able to help him.

But assuming it's just normal kid-fear, I am trying to work him through it. Some days it's harder than others, and some days my patience is just not there. The other day he was throwing a huge tantrum, and I told him to go to his room to calm down. He refused, and said he was scared (while stomping and yelling). I was pretty close to the end of my rope with him already, so I made him go. I told him he had nothing to fear and it would be fine. He sat in his room and guilt swept over me. Fear is a sore subject with me - it pushes my buttons.

So I brought him out when it was time and we talked about why he was sent to his room in the first place. Apologies, hugs, all the Super Nanny stuff. Then I sat down on the ground to talk to him about his fears. "I get scared all the time," I told him. "Someday I'll tell you more about that, but for now, you just have to trust me that you are going to be fine."

He brought up that someone could come into our house and take things. True. I don't want to lie to the kid about stuff like that - so I said yes, that someone could do that. But I told him that worrying about it isn't going to help anything. Worrying about it won't make it happen, or keep it from happening. It's never happened before, and we make good choices about safety, and we can know that and focus on positive things instead.

I'm blatantly stealing talking points from my therapist, watering them down, and spitting them back out at Jack. I don't think I'm doing a very good job of it, to be honest. It's going to be a tough road, trying to not be a hypocrite. But he and Ryker are the best motivation I could hope for to keep going working on my own issues with anxiety. I need to lead by example. And my speech will get better, I hope.

2 comments:

KellyM said...

Sometimes helping others with theirs helps you with yours. Trust me on this one...

Love,
Mommy

the fabulous Nikki B said...

Sort of related to your post, but not really... my mom has this intense fear of escalators that are out in the open... like the ones in Marshall Fields downtown that are free-standing and go right up through the middle of the store. She doesn't particularly love the ones that are enclosed by walls but she can deal with them.

Anyway, I NEVER knew about her fear until I was like 25 years old. She had kept it hidden from us because she didn't want us to take on her unnecessary fears. Which part of me thinks was sort of smart... if I, as a three year old, knew that my mom thought it was scary, I probably would have thought that I should be scared of it too.

Just thought it was interesting.