Panic! At the Schoolyard
First, before I even start this entry, which is probably going to be all over the place, I'd just like to say this:
Thank you, Mom, from the bottom of my heart and the depths of my soul and the roots of my hair (color: undisclosed) for being what I can ONLY NOW fully come to recognize as extremely strong, utterly selfless, and totally empathetic when I was a child/teen going through anxiety issues. You were, although I did not know it then, the exact role model I need now, and I just want you to know how often I refer to your parenting of me, in order to figure out what the right thing is to do with my own children.
So, yeah. Those of you who know me, REALLY KNOW ME, like IRL, and some who've been reading for years, know that I used to be a giant ball of anxiety and panic. "Used to" is a relative term really, I mean it's like saying "I used to be an alcoholic." Even if you took your last drink six years ago, you're still always going to be an alcoholic, you've just learned how to deal with the problem.
Which, I have done. After it peaked in my early 20's due to a really bad break-up and several subsequent horrible relationships and really really bad decisions, I started getting my shit together. The problem with that is, once your mind has gotten used to anxiety, it's nearly impossible to completely eradicate. But I did my best, and I feel that I overcame so much with the power of thought alone. I haven't had a severe panic attack in years.
So imagine my surprise when suddenly, my 7 year old began exhibiting the exact same symptoms. More horrified, I could not have been. I thought I had hidden my occasional anxieties from him SO. WELL. I now realize that perhaps I did not, and I feel awful that this could be my fault.
I'm not totally sure what's causing it, but, he's been sick a lot this winter. First he had pneumonia, which turned into asthma, for which he is still being treated. He had several bouts of stomach troubles, and he has a really easy gag-reflex anyway, so now he worries that he's going to throw up in school. This has developed into a paralyzing fear, and the fear of it happening can actually make him throw up. It's a vicious cycle.
Today is the second morning that I've taken him to school in tears (him), but this morning he was so upset that I just couldn't make him get out of the car. I know my mom would not have done that to me, and so I didn't do it to him. I drove him back home, called the school, and arranged for the counselor to meet us in the office in a little while, after I could get him calmed down.
We talked for awhile, he cried a lot. I finally managed (with the help of his dad, who I called for help) to convince him to give it a try. The counselor is so great I wanted to curl up in her lap and ask her to stroke my hair. She was very empathetic not only to Aiden, but also to me, and the fact that I must be having a rough time too, which made me instantly love her. She then told me (in private) to go on home, that she would talk to him for awhile and transition him to walk down to his classroom. She did say that anxiety in children is the biggest issue she deals with, and in fact she was just walking another child to his classroom just as we arrived. It did make me feel better to know he is not the only one with this problem, but ultimately I feel like I failed. In a major way.
I so rarely have this feeling. I mean, I definitely have my character flaws but I have tried supremely hard not to teach them to my children. I'm wondering if he could have picked up on it anyway, or if it is perhaps a genetic trait.
Opinions? Advice?