In this my first parent post for Anxiety in Teens, I introduce myself to you, fellow mothers and fathers caring for an adolescent struggling with mental illness, with this caveat: If there was a mistake to be made raising my teens with anxiety, I made it. If there was a wrong thing to have said to them, I said it. Probably many times. (As you no doubt are aware, it can be damn tough to find a right thing to say.) I yelled at one of my daughters when she was in the midst of a full-blown panic attack to “calm down!” I made obnoxiously transparent editorial comments about “healthy choices” to my other daughter, whose anxiety embeds in her relationship with food. I missed my son’s anxiety entirely, thinking his binge drinking, risk-taking, and occasional health-related obsessions were just him being a red-blooded teenage boy. I thought everyone’s insomnia and migraines were reasonable reactions to their stressful lives as high-achieving high schoolers during the dawn of social media. I’d pour an extra glass of wine at dinner to calm myself after a particularly fraught exchange with one or the other, remembering the words of a friends who reassured me the kids were just “being dramatic” and it would pass. And yet, here’s the bottom line: No matter how off-balance or ill-equipped dealing with my anxious teenagers sometimes made me feel or act, I was doing my absolute best to steer them into activities, care, treatment, and/or relationships that would support them. Are there instances in which I would dearly like a do-over, things I’d leave unsaid or interventions I’d have undertaken earlier, or later, or never? Do I wish I had listened to them more deeply, and talked at them a whole lot less? You betcha. But my unconditional love was never in question, even if sometimes my instincts were meh.
Despite my missteps, I am happy to report that all three of our kids survived to adulthood. Each one is pursuing interesting, meaningful work, in fields that don’t have predictable paths: entrepreneurship, the arts, social and environmental justice. They aren’t playing it safe, in other words. They’re going for it. They have functional, healthy relationships with the important people in their lives. They work in their own ways – therapy, medication, exercise, creativity — to use tools for living with anxiety so they can pursue their ambitions and dreams in the presence of emotional lives that are often intense. That intensity is among their gifts, in fact. They have their struggles, but as Eleanor Roosevelt advised, they step up to do the things the things that scare them. I couldn’t be prouder.
The good news for parents is this: the simple presence of love, if that’s the foundation from which you are interacting with your kids, will get you pretty far, even in the thorniest, snarkiest, scariest of circumstances. And even when you screw up. So, let’s begin our relationship, you and I, by forgiving ourselves for the signs we missed or the ways in which our good intentions may not have served our suffering children. And remember that each young person is on their own journey, drawing on a deep well of strength and character – a higher self, if you like — that we just need to have faith, as their mom or dad, is there. Let’s commit ourselves, as much as possible, to choose love when we interact with our anxious kids, to consciously dip into whatever deep well of universal compassion we believe in, and be guided by that. For ourselves, and for them.
Here’s another piece of good news: unconditional love is a parenting tool available to all, regardless of where we live, how much money we have or don’t have, how great or awful our health-care coverage or school system might be, our race, gender or religion. It doesn’t supplant by any means the helpfulness of a great therapist or school counselor, the right meds, or a caring community like a team or school club, and we need to provide as many of these supports to our anxious kids if we possibly can. Not everyone has the same access to them, though.
One of the most important ways in which I feel I did right by my kids was by being willing to look at my own emotional life: my anxiety about the kids’ anxieties, my difficulty tolerating the heartbreak of their disappointments, my reluctance to allow them space for their feelings without trying to manage their uneasy emotions for them (yup, I did that, too), even my shame for being a mom whose kids struggled with generalized anxiety, despite all that motherlove, those home-cooked meals and afterschool enrichment activities, the school papers I read over and the races/plays/concerts/dr.’s appointments/teacher conferences I attended on their behalf. I got a therapist – for me. I leaned on my friends. I found expressive, creative and physical outlets to discharge my frustrations and fears, not just regarding my kids, but my own shit. I believe this is a critically important step if you are care-giving for anyone with a mental health issue, teenager or adult. Take care of yourself to the best of your ability, given the resources available to you. Own the complexity of your feelings, and seek out people who understand and support you. Not only did these steps help me feel better, but I hope they modeled coping skills that my kids are emulating in their own ways. Dealing with a teen with a mental health issue can be impossibly frustrating and in some instances downright scary. It’s okay – it’s good – to acknowledge that. The last thing any parent needs is to be encumbered by shame for feeling ambivalent or angry, inadequate, stumped. A good rule of thumb is this: If it doesn’t help you, it certainly won’t help your kid.
Did I mention I lost my temper with my daughter for having a panic attack? Last piece of good news: I’m pretty sure she forgives me. Love will do that.
And y’know, one day they might even say you got some things pretty right.
Holly Kania is a freelance writer and health & wellness teacher from the Boston area. She is currently writing her first novel, “Shebang!” a tragi-comedy wherein a menopausal feminist comes of age at a millennial startup company. You can visit her blog at www.abodystory.com.