Now, On: When Anxiety Attacks

Did you know anxiety is the most common mental illness in the US? More than 40 million Americans over age 18 have some kind of anxiety disorder, including GAD, PTSD, OCD, and panic disorder, to name a few. Next time you're in a movie theater, look to your right, your left,  in front of you, and behind you. Chances are, at least one of the people surrounding you suffers from anxiety.

Maybe it's you.

Children also suffer from anxiety. Nearly 32% of American children have an anxiety disorder, according to a survey from the National Institute of Mental Health.

(Side note: The acronym for the National Institute of Mental Health is NIMH Please tell me I'm not the only one who had to do a double take and wonder how Mrs. Brisby was doing!)

Anyone? Just me? ...Drats.          Source

My point here, of course, is that it's very likely you or someone you know suffers from anxiety of some type.

Kyle and Taryn each have a form of anxiety. I have PTSD, which, yes, is listed as an anxiety disorder.

We are also very open in this house and respectful of each other's needs. Or, well...as respectful as young siblings ever get.

That being said, we now turn to the reason for this post: When Anxiety Attacks.

I don't know who made this, but my soul feels it. 

Because of the prevalence of anxiety in our society and in our household, I have taught my children to recognize the signs of an anxiety attack.

A handy reference photo for you, in case it's needed. Source

Quite often, Kyle is able to feel one coming on and can excuse himself or request whatever he needs to feel better. Taryn is getting there, but not quite. And I, a veteran of anxiety attacks, am usually pretty okay. But, I'm not perfect. And sometimes...well, sometimes I have them too. 

Tonight was one of those times. No particular reason - sometimes, anxiety attacks just happen. I've found the longer I go without one, the more likely I am to have one out of nowhere.

I was sitting on my couch, researching the post I had PLANNED to write tonight - looking up photos, statistics, sources, etc - when, out of nowhere, I started to shake. I couldn't breathe. My heart was racing. And, to be honest, I felt like I was in the middle of a menopause cycle. (I'm 27...not quite there yet!)

Kyle was sitting on the floor in front of me. He turned around to ask me something, and immediately seemed to understand that Mommy was in need of help. 

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Why is a 7  year old child helping his mom through a panic attack?" 

No one asked him to. I certainly didn't expect him to. Although I have taught them how to recognize the symptoms and what to do, I did that so they could help themselves - i.e, recognize their own anxiety and get help if it was needed. However, that is the kind of kids I have. When I'm sick, they offer to get water for me, bring me the cough syrup, etc. Pretty sure, if they knew how, they'd drive to the store and buy soup for me too. 

So when Kyle realized I was having an anxiety attack, he decided he knew how to help. Calmly, he got up and got my cell phone from where it was charging on the bookcase. He brought it to me, because he can't unlock it (fingerprint scan, ya know), and told me, "Breathe, Mom. Do the breathing one." 

What does that mean? 

Shameless unpaid app promotion, that's what.

In all seriousness, we discovered an app a few weeks ago called CalmHarm that is intended to help with the urge to self-harm. While we do not feel that urge in this house, I downloaded it anyways to check it out for my mother (a high school teacher working with at-risk teens). On it, they have several options to help you through your urge (or, in our case, anxiety attack), including an option that simply brings a cool-colored circle up on your screen with a 60 second timer, and walks you through deep breathing for 60 seconds. (Longer if you need it - just press it again!)

It's one of the best things we've found in this house for an anxiety attack, too. It brings our concentration to the phone screen, drawing it away from our own thoughts and allowing us to slowly come back out of our brains as our heart slows down and our breathing evens out, allowing our bodies to relax and slip out of flight-or-fight mode. 

When the anxiety had passed, Kyle was once again standing in front of me, this time with a bottle of water and a hug.

Anxiety is a pain. Literally and metaphorically. But it isn't something you should be ashamed of, and it's definitely not something you should keep a secret from your kids, particularly if they themselves have it. Chances are, if you have it, they do too. It seems to run like that. Talk to your kids about anxiety. Teach them to handle their own, and they might pick up on how to help someone else through it, too. 

Do you or your children have anxiety? How do you handle it? Let us know in the comments, and share away :) We'll see you next time, with hopefully less drama!

Or...you know...maybe a bottle or twelve of wine...who knows?