But My Anxiety Is Just So Darn Loud!
What to do when you can’t hear anything but your fear
Elisabeth Kraus, MA, Parent Coach
I walk around this wonderful world with a few diagnoses. One, the ADHD, makes my world feel big and small all at the same time, and is just the result of having an awesome neurodivergent brain. The other, the PTSD, makes my world feel big and scary, and is the result of some very real and very hard past traumas – specifically, the passing of my 3 sons. The two diagnoses in combination can, at times, feel absolutely unmanageable. The ADHD causes me to hyperfixate and over-analyze anything that feels “off,” and the PTSD brings to imagination all of the ways that the “off thing” could spiral into a real and life-threatening crisis.
Luckily for me (and for my beautiful daughters), I have an amazing mental health therapist who helps me to process and cope, and I have a physician who helps me to manage medication interventions as well. But even with those wonderful supports in place, there are times when my anxiety feels like it’s about to explode right out through my skin. And because my trauma is rooted in the passing of my children, I’m most likely to spiral in my worry for my girls: Are they safe? Will they be ok? Will something go wrong? Will I catch the thing that goes wrong in time for it to not be catastrophic? On and on and on.
Truly, my brain can go from “zero to hero” in 60 seconds flat.
And if you’re about to start weaning your child, in the middle of weaning your child, or you already weaned your child, I bet you can relate.
Over the years, as I’ve been intentional about processing through my grief in safe, productive ways, I’ve learned some strategies that have helped me work through my anxiety, rather than being ruled and controlled by it. And today, I wanted to share a few of them just in case you find yourself at a mealtime, with the whole world feeling like it’s about to fall apart at your feet because your anxiety is just screaming so loudly that you feel out of control.
When that happens,
I lean into the present moment.
My anxiety likes to remind me about everything that went wrong before, and then to imagine how all of those things could go wrong again in the future. And while I’ve never been great at just shutting those voices down, I have learned that staying very grounded in my present body helps me to work through it.
In those moments, I use my 5 senses to help me remember that, right now, at THIS exact time, all is well and all is safe. I do this by rubbing my fingers together or pressing my feet into the floor, giving me something to feel. I start to mention the things I can see: my cute kiddo’s messy face, the dishes I still need to do. I notice what I can smell: the fresh air from the window I opened, the aroma of baked salmon (which I make quite deliciously, I might add), or yes, the dishes I still need to do. I take a sip or bite of something, and go slowly, noticing the cold sensation of the ice or the sweetness of my coffee creamer.
One by one, I go through my sense of taste, touch, smell, sight, and hearing to focus on how my body feels at that time. And slowly, the reminders from the past and fears of the future begin to quiet down as I lean into the present moment where I am safe and where my kids are thriving.
I give the anxiety somewhere to go.
My anxious energy does not like to sit still. It really needs an outlet – something to do, a place to go. For me, this means that I have to be intentional and consistent in moving my body, and over the years, this has looked many different ways.
While I was helping my youngest daughter learn how to eat, I was often really overwhelmed by the end of the day, which meant plopping her on dad’s lap instead and going to do the dishes (are you sensing a theme around dishes?). This gave my hands something to do OTHER than try and get her to eat. As she became more well-established, I began making it a priority to go to the gym, go for a bike ride or take a walk, making movement a non-negotiable part of my weekly routines. That has grown into a love for weight lifting and much more intentional movement.
My movement might not look like yours, and that’s ok! But finding consistent ways to move your body – whether that’s at a gym, walking around the neighborhood, joining a sports league, having a dance party in the living room, etc. – gives your anxiety something to do other than just exist.
I stick with help that “helps.”
My littlest has a book called “Ruby Finds a Worry,” and I love it! Without spoiling it for you, it’s the story of a little girl who learns that talking about her worries helps them to grow smaller. Similarly, if you listen to the movie “Inside Out,” you’ll remember that sadness is a good, necessary emotion because spoken sadness brings people to help.
The common thread between both of these delights is this: you have to talk about what’s going on.
I’ve already told you about safely taking prescribed medication to help with my ADHD, and meeting weekly with my mental health counselor to work on coping skills and healing. And if you aren’t doing or haven’t looked into those things, I hope that you do! Because you deserve care and support, as much as your little one does. And beyond those things, I’ve worked friendship time into my self-care routine. Sometimes, this looks like a long phone call with my sister, but more often, it’s intentional, away-from-home, coffee or drinks or dinner or a hike with a friend who knows me, loves me, and supports me.
Practicing these strategies has made a world of difference in the moments when my anxiety is the loudest voice in the room (or just in my head). Because while I might be a mom, a sister, an auntie, a co-parent, a teacher, and a parent coach, I’m primarily a human being who deserves love, care and belonging. It’s just that, as an adult, I’m now tasked with giving those things to myself – and so are you! Caring for yourself can be indulgent (the book you read before bed or the ice cream you enjoy late at night), but it can also be disciplined (like moving your body, going to therapy, joining in the GIE support group, etc.) And we all need both extremes as regular, planned, prioritized parts of our routines.
Because at the end of the day our kids will learn to care for themselves the way that we care for ourselves. And even if it wasn’t about setting a good example, these practices (and others) give benefits that you deserve – and benefits I hope you pursue!