He Doesn't Know Why

Asher's homework this week was to write a poem using his spelling words. Most of his assignments this year center around helping him to write. To consider what he wants to say, find the words and put them down on paper. He's been struggling with these tasks, but for some reason, was better able to do this particular poem assignment. In fact, he wrote several different poems rather than a single poem using all of the required words. As I was looking over his work last night, I found this:

I didn't know what to say.

Standing at the top of the stairs, looking up from this paper into the honest eyes of my son, I couldn't even speak.

I started to ask why? how? what does this mean to you? Instead I praised his work, told him he had done enough for the day and could go outside to ride his bike.

Some of you may know, many may have guessed, that I struggle with anxiety. It's a new thing for me, triggered, I believe, during the upheaval caused by our move from Oklahoma last year. Since then, in quiet moments, I've realized that those changes were just a catalyst. I had always been a little uncomfortable, uneasy, anxious. The children, the move, work, these just brought it to the surface.

I was lucky that I developed healthier coping skills than many others who struggle with anxiety. I didn't self medicate with alcohol or engage in self destructive behavior. I was able to deal with my emotions and fears by being prepared for everything. Some people think I'm controlling, inflexible, unable to be spontaneous or 'go with the flow'. But controlling my environment, with an exhaustive amount of planning, was how I dealt with my anxiety in the past. Living out of boxes, in a rental house with two young children and a new job seemed impossible. Everything was constantly in flux. I wasn't grounded, I couldn't find my feet. I was angry, frustrated, depressed, impatient, and lonely.

I reached out for help.

That was over a year ago, and while things are better (thanks in large part to the pharmaceutical companies) I still feel anxious and overwhelmed at times. Given his loving and sensitive nature, I wasn't exactly surprised to find that Asher picked up on it.

I'm not upset about it either. I just don't know how to discuss this with him.

I want him to know that sometimes life is hard, and sometimes people need help. I want him to understand that everyone is fighting some sort of battle and it's okay to ask for a hand with your own. I want him to know I'm not ashamed. That this isn't his fault. That parents aren't infallible. I don't always have the answers and that's okay.

I need to find a way to approach this that he will understand. Speak on his level and be truthful about who I am and what I know my failings to be. It must be authentic because most of all I want him to know that it's more important to be honest than it is to be perfect.