Everything I did with my first two kids never failed to deviate with my third — new play gyms, preschool teachers, and an overall sense of life in general. My first two kids were Type A, but my youngest child seemed to be Type Z. The two older kids went full steam ahead, while my youngest usually went quite unwillingly. I later found that this unwillingness was due to his anxiety, and that I would have to learn to be his advocate. 

I Wasn’t Prepared To Parent a Child With Anxiety 

When my youngest hit third grade, his anxiety began to bubble up to the surface and take control. Yes, we did have a family history so I couldn’t claim to be completely shocked, but I was definitely unprepared. Suddenly, I found myself flying by the seat of my pants with no playbook, no experience, and a whole lot of emotions to keep at bay while I plunged headfirst into navigating a very challenging new normal.

School Refusal Became a Regular Thing for Him 

Anxiety can take many forms in a young child. All three of my kids experienced textbook moments, but of course my youngest had a family trend to continue. Nine years ago, school refusal had just started gaining traction. Thankfully, we were lucky enough to be part of a school system that had put some support in place. Today, after two years of remote learning, I can’t begin to imagine the number of children refusing to go to school every morning. As someone who lived through it, I can say with certainty that it’s more of a nightmare than any words could ever describe.

The biggest thing I learned through therapy and frustration is that there is no reasoning with the irrational mind. It was a head-shaking phenomenon to have my greatest moments of logic stopped in their tracks by pure illogical will. My black was his white and so it went, right along with my emotional stability and a good chunk of my sanity. 

I Had To Be More Than His Mom — I Had To Be His Advocate 

As someone who felt comfortable flying under the radar, it was a daunting task to become more proactive and confrontational. I found an adolescent therapist specializing in anxiety and reluctantly put my son on medication. The stresses of everyday life became a little easier for a short time, but eventually my son became a regular in the nurse’s office. I could no longer relax, even on the days when I got him to school. And by the end of middle school, he was on the attendance radar screen of both the administrators and his peers, leading to classroom ridicule that only made the truancy worse. Yet somehow, he managed to get good grades and make it to high school.

When My Son Entered High School, It Didn’t Get Easier 

When my son entered high school, he struggled. For two years, he repeated a cycle: missing class, falling behind, and then getting too stressed to catch up. Checking the school portal for his grades made me sick before I even opened my computer. Waking him up in the morning was also an exercise in terror because I never knew if he would get out of bed. And during his sophomore year, I had people coming to my house to either prod or threaten him to go to school. Even the principal argued with me that I wasn’t doing enough, as if I had the physical strength to force him into the car or the magic words to talk him out of his irrational state of mind. Every single day was awful.

We Moved Him to a School Better Suited To Meet His Needs 

After an unsuccessful sophomore year, my husband and I thought we had found our miracle in the form of a school refusal specialist (who knew such a thing existed?) and a local private school that specialized in children who needed a different learning environment. We were set to make the move until our district refused to pay for my son to attend. We hired a lawyer and were forced to sit in a room to discuss my son’s issues as if he was a chess piece that could be strategically controlled and manipulated. My family held our ground and the district finally agreed to move my son to a school that could help him. 

We spent the next three years navigating the path to graduation with the help of some of the best people I have ever met in my life. They got it. They were flexible and willing to work with me, even on those days when I still couldn’t get my son out of bed. The right people also understood that anxiety and school refusal can take down an entire family. I didn’t need to be scolded, I needed someone to assure me that everything was going to be okay and to support me in helping my son.

The Bottom Line 

When graduation day finally arrived, it almost felt like an out-of-body experience. It had taken five endless years plus two summers to get through high school. And along the way, he had gotten accepted to his first-choice college, which was a joyous relief. If I had been given the chance, I would have stood at the podium and thanked the numerous therapists, special mentors, and amazing human beings who supported and guided us through a challenge like no other. I often told my son that he had taken an off-ramp leading from the highway onto the back roads, but that the destination remained the same. A boy seemingly fated to follow a different route even before he was born had conquered debilitating anxiety and paved the way to what had seemed close to impossible — getting out of bed in the morning, feeling strong enough to face a new day.

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash