There Is Nothing General About Generalized Anxiety Disorder

My daughter has a friend from school who just moved in down the street and they are playing together. I am happy for her in light of recent events. He seems like a sweet boy. Informed me, “We had to move because we had bedbugs.”
Oh, kids and their lack of filters.
Your first thought is, ugh, if it was so bad you had to move, EEK. But then that would make me no different than the idiots spreading lies about my kids. Bygones. Let the kids have fun.

Here’s the deal: I can’t breathe when my kid is playing outside. Not as in I can’t get air, obviously I can or I’d pass out instead of typing this. I mean, I can’t relax. I get up every 90 seconds to look out on her (helicopter mom much?). I worry about every tiny thing, especially after all these reports about parents who do this “free range” thing getting their kids taken away because the law seems to think kids playing in their own yard these days is some sort of neglect.
It ignites my panic receptors. The generalized anxiety is no longer generalized. It is all encompassing. Normally, I can breathe a little, put a time cap on how long I can endure the anxiety…When it comes to my kid, though, the last thing I want is for my limitations to impact her negatively.
But where is the line drawn?
The kid was here ten minutes before he started asking for our food. I am not selfish but this was how it started last time. Nice to a couple of kids, next thing I’ve got ten kids in the yard and they all expect to be fed everyday. I cannot go back to that, not even for her. Our budget is limited and having been burned before by the neighborhood kids…

I don’t know what I am doing when it comes to the child socialization thing. I’ve always been so independent, so much of a solitary soul, that my social skills are nil. Now I have to navigate this new path blindly in a way that establishes boundaries but doesn’t psychologically damage my child.
I don’t have a base line to go by. My mother and my sister needed constant company. My dad wanted everyone to piss off. I grew up more in the middle, as in piss off til I want your company, then dance for me monkeys…It sounds bitchy but really it’s not, it’s just how introverts are.
My kid is an extrovert which makes this doubly scary territory. She never wants to be alone. Ever.

I want her to have a better life than me. I don’t want to transfer my issues onto her.
Yet her childhood is directly at odds with me being able to adequately deal with a mental disorder that has plagued me since age 8. (Yeah, you deal with this anxiety shit from age 8 then tell me to embrace it…Nope, haven’t let it go yet.)
I need a balance so she can flourish without me well, going batshit. Face it, me indulging her to the extent that I end up in a padded room, is not going to benefit either of us.

It’s nerve racking. She’s out there having fun and I am up every ninety seconds, literally, looking out on her. Meanwhile the kid she is playing with is the same age as her and his parents are not hovering nearby anywhere.
So what’s my deal?
I used to roam the streets when I was 6, 7 years old. Of course, I lived in a tiny armpit town and it was thirty plus years ago so…Things are very different now. My mom used to leave us alone in the car for two minutes while she went into the post office. Do that now and you’re up on neglect charges.
Different time, much reason to feel nervous.
If you’re already at a disadvantage…It takes a toll. Like I need a drink toll because it’s the only thing that forced the anxiety demons down.

Nothing general about it when it consumes every aspect of your life as well as the lives of those around you.
Telling us to suck it up..Not helpful.

Wow. Kids are like gremlns. There was one, now there are four. Oh, wait, no, the girls are leaving because the demon spawns are there whispering lice even though I already read the riot act about the subject. Now my kid is upset. Now they are back. Now there are new kids I haven’t seen before. Nothing like a swingset to make all the poodles run to our house for the funky cold medina. (Wish my dad had that swingset up his ass, told him it would be a kid magnet.)
Kids can’t speak in normal tones, can they?
The yelling is too much.
It’s gonna be a long fucking summer.
I want a valium lick like the salt lick my pet bunny had.

Just…Next time you talk to someone or read about them having generalized anxiety disorder and you want to condescend, push your agenda, call them liars…THINK TWICE.
It’s very real and it metastasizes for some of us rather than shrinking over the years.
Be supportive. Be kind. And if you can’t do that…
Get out of my fucking orbit. I have a free daycare to run, apparently.

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