It’s 4 p.m., and I’m completely drained. I spent half the night tending to my feverish, coughing 3-year-old. On the stove, I have a couple of pots bubbling away, and I’m trying to avoid the broccoli turning into mush — if it does, my older son will refuse to touch it. Meanwhile, my little one seems to be in the bathroom for an eternity, and soon enough, I’ll need to devote a ridiculous amount of time to help him out — all while ensuring dinner doesn’t get burnt.
As I juggle everything, my phone buzzes with work emails, and my mother is texting me about our weekend plans. Just then, my older son runs up, excitedly rambling about some new video game. At the same moment, my younger son starts coughing up a storm from the bathroom, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s just a cold or something more serious. Should I call the doctor?
My heart races, and my breath catches. Anxiety, my ever-present companion, has decided to join the chaos.
For those of us who tend to be anxious, moments like this can push us over the edge. Everyone deals with stress, but anxious folks are wired differently. Our skin feels like it’s made of thin paper; there’s always a hidden pool of stress just waiting to overflow. When our plates are as full as mine was, and the pressure mounts, it’s like the dam breaks.
As parents, we often have no choice but to power through. Let’s face it — parenting is inherently stressful. The relentless task of nurturing our kids is filled with surprises, challenges, and sometimes outright fears.
Often, anxiety takes center stage while we’re in the thick of parenting, and we have no choice but to carry on. There are rarely opportunities to find our zen, practice deep breathing, or call for backup.
I’m grateful that I don’t have full-blown anxiety attacks around my kids too often. However, as someone living with an anxiety disorder, I’ve certainly faced my share of overwhelming moments while parenting. I do my best to shield my kids from my internal struggles, but when I’m really feeling it, I’ve been known to plop down on the couch and say, “Mommy needs a moment,” while I attempt to regroup.
Even when I’m not at that breaking point, countless moments during my day find me lost in thought, worrying, or obsessing over something that feels urgent. I can’t help but wonder if my kids notice this disconnect and how it might affect them.
Standing in the kitchen at 4 p.m., as everything feels like it’s spiraling out of control, does my older son sense that I’m not really listening to him? Does he think, “Mommy is too busy to pay attention,” or does he realize that I’m in another world, my fight-or-flight response fully engaged?
I often ponder whether my anxiety has rubbed off on my children. Sometimes I catch glimpses of anxious tendencies in them, but I can’t tell if they’re just being typical kids or if they’ve inherited my anxious nature. I find myself obsessing over how to shield them from this burden and whether I can even make a difference.
In my head, I’m perpetually apologizing to my kids for my anxious behavior and its potential impact on their lives. I even voice it sometimes.
“Sorry, I can’t focus on video games right now,” I tell my older son. “I’m overwhelmed; it’s like my brain has 17 tabs open!” He nods, seemingly amused by my tech analogy, but I can’t help but wonder if he truly accepts my apology. Will he remember me as a distracted parent, lost in my own thoughts?
Anxious parents can be our own worst critics. It’s part of the anxiety package. Yet, every parent desperately wishes for their children to feel safe and secure.
I have no magic solutions. I’m just trying to practice self-care, attend therapy, and exercise — all of which help me keep my anxiety manageable. But for those times when my anxiety spills over and affects my kids, I can’t help but feel a wave of guilt. I wish things were different.
I’m learning to accept myself, flaws and all, and to believe that my concern for my children is a sign of good parenting. I hope my kids see it that way, and if they don’t, that they can at least forgive me for my shortcomings.
In the end, parenting is a journey, and for those of us with anxiety, it’s one filled with unique challenges. We just keep moving forward, hoping for the best.
Summary:
This article reflects on the struggles of an anxious mother as she navigates the challenges of parenting while managing her anxiety. She expresses her fears of impacting her children and the guilt that often accompanies her feelings of overwhelm. Through self-acceptance and a commitment to self-care, she strives to be the best parent she can, hoping her children understand her struggles and forgive her imperfections.