It’s 3 am and I am up again, doing what I imagine many parents often do at this time, think about how their kids are going. I often feel a bit anxious, caught between trying to assist them get on their feet and letting them find their own way. I imagine that this is the challenge of parenthood which is something that I relish and get my reason for being. I think that I may do it more than others (I hope I haven’t afflicted my kids). I usually push the feeling of helplessness away by listening to podcasts, which I enjoy, but would rather be sleeping. This time I’m seeking release by putting my thoughts down on paper.
I am the father of four great individuals, I am very proud of them they are intelligent caring people excelling in their contribution in their own way. While I don’t wish the curse of anxiety on them, I think they are afflicted, as do many of their generation, because they care about something other than themselves and are capable of inner rationalisation. My kids all suffer from varying degrees of anxiety and are dealing with it in their own inspirational ways. They all care about each other.
I am in awe of each of them, how could I have had any part in this?
The one I feel most concern for at the moment is my youngest son, who is being crippled by anxiety and depression. I now understand what I saw in his eyes when I held him, 10 minutes after birth. I can think of many instances throughout his entire life where he was trying to deal with anxiety. He developed a stutter in the preschool years, I could literally see his brain going too quickly for his mouth; he dealt with that and overcame it in his own way. He is now 24 years old, who can tell him how to live with anxiety? He commenced formal treatment at the age of about 14, he has been through it all, and been diagnosed with just about everything, he still struggles with it every day. He is understandably sceptical of ‘treatment’. He put his faith in us early and we haven’t been able to assist. How he actually gets through every day beggars belief. Is it any wonder he seeks some escape from the constant nagging of the anxiety, through alcohol or what-ever he gets his hands on. The resultant remorse feeds the depression spiral, and so it goes.
He has gone through self harm
It’s 4am and he is getting up for the day. He will spend most of it in his room apart from the 4-6 hours on his treadmill, in the garage. The exercise is a good coping strategy but is about the only thing he does these days.
All the advice is
- “To seek help”, he has tried that and he doesn’t believe it will help, it hasn’t in the past.
- “No one can do anything unless he decides he wants help”. This is what I pay incredible amounts to hear from psychiatrists/psychologists. This may be true, but while he remains sceptical he may never decide. We, as a community, must be able to do better than this.
The psychiatrists/psychologists seem keen to pigeon-hole him, I’m getting sick of this, when that theory is debunked a few years later where does that leave him, where is Aspergers now?
He lives at home, talks to his parents, his siblings and has a pretty good relationship with his GP, no friends or job. Is on medications which dosent seem to be helping much.
Tried AA, Grow, has been to rehab a couple of times and he manages to talk his way out of them. Is terrified of going back to rehab, I think it’s the anxiety.
I could go on for pages…..
Is anybody else going through this? Any ideas?
