I sat on the couch with my son’s head in my lap. A soft tear leaked from his eye to disappear into the fabric of my skirt. The fount of worries and concerns that have been gradually accumulating in the past months finally over flowed. I stroked his hair gently as we faced the fact that in one week he will irretrievably turn twelve years old. The twelfth birthday is a landmark, a rite of passage. He will no longer be part of the children’s programs at church, instead he will attend Young Men’s events. He will take up some congregational responsibilities as well. Link has every right to feel anxious about what is coming.
We talked about the specific things that worry him. I did not say “You’ll be fine.” because that phrase is singularly useless in reducing anxiety. It actually adds the anxious realization that not only does he have to face the worrisome thing, but that mom expects him to be fine with it. Instead we talked about worry in general. We talked about how it is possible to see clearly how things are going to work out, but to still be worried about it. We talked about how sometimes worry can keep us up at night. We talked through specifics about the responsibilities that he has coming so that he at least knows what to expect. We decided to make an appointment to talk to the man who will be his Young Men’s leader so that Link can talk these things through with him.
As I spoke with Link, I realized that something has shifted in our relationship. I have stopped sheltering him as much. I have stepped back from taking care of things for him and instead I am moving into a supportive role where he is making his own decisions. This was most evident in the portion of the conversation which discussed his medication. We talked through all the effects of the medication both good and bad. I told him how I’ve been considering taking him to a specialist who may be able to help us switch medications to a different one which will alleviate the bad while retaining the good. I do not know if Link will need medication his whole life, but if he does, then he needs to learn how to see the whole diagnostic picture so that he can make his own choices. I never want him to feel like medication is something imposed upon him.
Our conversation did not fix anything. Link is still worried. He is going to stay worried until we get past the birthday and he gets settled into his new things. But I think that talking through all the thoughts and emotions did help some. If nothing else, he knows that mom will listen to his worries.