Hello everyone. Spoiler alert: this blog will be mentioning child emotional abuse, so if you don’t want to think about that, you might want to switch off now.
Well, managing the inevitable challenges of day one resulted in a really bad anxiety dream last night. So I’m typing this at 3.30am, whilst thinking about the day ahead. My main worry is that I will be travelling about 20 miles in the back of my son’s car, wedged between two large, fixed child seats and my two grandsons. As yet, I don’t know if the car’s automatic child locks will be engaged, but all aspects of this scenario are a torment to a severe claustrophobic like me. I can clearly remember panic attacks in enclosed situations from before I was 3 years old, so in some ways my claustrophobia is even worse and more longstanding than my agoraphobia.
It’s taken me 65 years to manage this fear relatively well on a plane, but it’s interesting that the fear in a car, a lift, or a loo is still so bad. So, thinking all this over, I’ve decided to briefly tell my son how I feel. We could perhaps then arrange that he will stop the car to let me get out and collect myself, if I ask him to. Not looking forward to it, but ready to face up to it, if that makes sense!
Lastly, I haven’t even mentioned that any lift means going away from relative safety, and having to wait until the driver is ready to return. So there is a risk I will have to deal with a panic attack without a quick escape route I can control. I still routinely turn down kind offers of a lift because of this anxiety, though always giving a socially acceptable reason. Maybe I should now start to review that policy…
Why should I be ashamed?
Lord,
Why should I be ashamed
Of my agoraphobia?
It’s a standard consequence
Of child emotional abuse.
Why should I be ashamed
Of my depression?
It’s a text-book response
To child emotional abuse.
Why should I be ashamed
Of my anxiety?
It’s a basic reaction
To child emotional abuse.
But acceptance is not
Passive resignation –
Help me to fight back, Lord,
Till my last breath.
I think many of us feel ashamed to admit to suffering from depression. It’s as if it makes us sound like weak individuals … yet, it’s a combination of inherited genes and , often, a consequence of our upbringing. This is a good prayer for us all, asking God’s help to accept ourselves and to learn how to cope.