I have been especially worried about my youngest son this past year. He just turned 24 a few weeks ago. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I have managed my anxiety, but he got it in spades, so much so that it has derailed his life. I haven’t blogged about how tough it is until now. It breaks my heart to see him struggling to live his life, consumed with an internal anxiety that is “off the charts” regardless of what is going on in his life.

He should be at an age where he is able to be out in the world supporting himself, not holed up in our house. He emotionally crashed about eighteen months ago with anxiety, panic and sleep issues so we brought him home. Of course, the pandemic doesn’t help someone with anxiety; he is terrified that he will bring it home to us and so doesn’t want to work in the restaurant industry anymore.

I’m a fixer. That’s how I cope with my worry. If one of my kids has a problem, I go into Mama Bear mode, looking at solutions, tracking down the best plan of action then pushing my kids towards it. It’s hard for me to back off from wanting to push them along in a direction if I think that will help. I tried to get my son to take supplements because that helped me. He didn’t stay on them long enough to know whether they would have helped and now won’t let me talk about them.

My son is kind, intelligent and empathetic. He really should be confidently striding ahead in life. Instead, his thoughts race like wildfire, he sometimes goes a day and a half before he is able to sleep and he struggles every day to find a place of calm and peace inside his brain. It’s not fair that he of all the kids got the worst of the DNA in this respect, to the point of being unable to function.

I finally had a long talk with my son, and I told him I finally accepted that I couldn’t help him. A calm home environment, giving him a job at our business, giving him a place to stay where bills are paid…it hasn’t been enough to allow him to move forward. I thought that if he didn’t have to support himself, he could get back to taking college classes…he has 5 classes left for his two-year degree. That goal seems to be beyond his reach right now.

My son isn’t lazy though he isn’t working. He tried to move from working for us to another job then broke out into severe hives, I think from the stress of making a change. The hives lasted long enough that by the time he was over it, he lost the job before he started.

I see him trying to eat healthy, exercise and above all find a way to mentally find peace but his body keeps manifesting health issues stemming from the emotional state. I keep thinking that if he could only get his brain to a calm state, everything else would fall into place. I want for my son what other kids his age take for granted…peace inside his head.

My son agreed to see a psychologist and had his initial visit last week. Although I was not in the session, I met the psychologist briefly in the waiting room. He is an older man with a quiet, kind manner and I was relieved when my son told me later that he liked him. My son has a hard time opening up so that is huge. My hope is that this psychologist will be able to diagnose what is going on and help.

As I move into the last third of my life, I want to know that when I am gone, that all of my kids will be able to function on their own in life. That’s our best legacy as parents…that they are OK.