Happy holidays? More like unhappy holidays for this parent. After struggling with an anxious kid through all the stressors – his racing mind, family dinners, and holiday travel – she’s decided, sometimes it’s ok to just make mac ‘n cheese.
When I see the holidays on the horizon, I feel a growing sense of dread woven in with my anxiety as a parent of a kid with anxiety. Our dual mental illnesses are a tough combination, and when you mix it up with the season’s holidays, family get-togethers, and travel, the outcome is overwhelming.
Before I go any further, you should know when my son was younger, his emotions often poured out at bedtime as he struggled to quiet his mind. We’d get into long, late-night conversations about whatever was keeping him up.
During the holiday season one night, he was deeply distressed about everything related to presents:
- What if he didn’t get what he wanted?
- What if he got a gift he didn’t like? What should he say? What if he said the wrong thing?
- What do you write in a thank you note for a gift you return?
- What if he started to play with a toy only to decide a day later he didn’t want it? In that case, he told me, he could have taken it back to the store and gotten something else. Instead, he would be full of regret over the decision to play with it in the first place.
- His list went on and on…
How do you support a child when their anxious mind is racing about holiday gifts, or really anything else?
While I enjoyed the closeness we shared during those late-night talks, I realized I was doing him no favors by keeping those conversations going at 11pm on a school night. Instead, I learned to curtail the worries and help him get to sleep, knowing things would look clearer in the light of day. (I now know sleep is a key part of caring for our mental health.)
On that one late holiday night, I said to him: “I can see you are really worried about your gifts, but it’s late, and we aren’t going to solve this problem right now. I think the best thing you can do is get a good night’s sleep, and we can talk about this in the morning.” Sure enough, he felt better the next morning. The moral of that story is no matter what’s causing the worry, name the feeling, validate it, and take control of the things we can control.
My son’s anxiety also flares up during big family get-togethers, which, of course, are part of the holiday season. Every aspect of these events is distressing for him – the people, the clothes, the food – and it shows up in him as an angry outburst, a complete retreat, or a whining mess in my lap. What a great way to celebrate a holiday? I’ve felt embarrassed and judged on more than one occasion when I feel all the eyes on me as my child sits alone in the corner on his phone, complains loudly that there’s nothing for him to eat, or announces as we leave our hosts’ home: “It’s over!”
It’s taken time to understand his anxiety, educate other family members about what he is experiencing (while ignoring their suggestions), and adjust our expectations. Now, we are glad he shows up, even if it’s in his pajamas, and sits at the table for 15 minutes. And if he doesn’t want to eat anything on the buffet, I make something I know he’ll eat. Yes, some may judge me for catering (literally!) to my child’s needs, but if making mac ‘n cheese eases one of the stressors so he can join the party, to me, it’s worth it. What’s more important? That he finds the patience to converse with his grandparents or that he eats roasted brussel sprouts? I rest my case.
The last holiday hazard we typically face is travel. Whether we are heading on a vacation or to visit relatives, my son prefers to stay in the comforts of home. In the days leading up to departure, his anxiety builds, sending mine sky high. In all honesty, there’s always a part of me that hopes the trip gets cancelled. What’s the fun of traveling when your child is miserable the whole time? Throw in the crowds, extra expense, and relatives with their own ideas and agenda, and I start to think my son has the right idea. What do we do? I used to feel stretched between his needs and everyone else’s expectations, fearing judgement and feeling wracked with guilt. (You made a lovely dinner, but my son and I are going to spend the evening in the foyer because all the commotion is just too much.)
Now, we take it at our own pace. If my kid needs a night off, we politely tell the group we are going to pass on the dinner out. We do what’s best for us. Sometimes I wonder if I’m letting his anxiety control us. Am I enabling instead of encouraging? Should I set stricter boundaries? It’s a work in progress, but I feel confident making decisions based on mental health. It’s my North Star, and that’s as close as it gets to happy holidays.
This essay is part of a CATCH series on Holidays, Family, and Mental Health. Read a social worker’s perspective on what to do when you are feeling the pressure of all the things you SHOULD do in the midst of the season.
