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Childhood Anxiety – You Slippery, Fickle F**ker

September 18, 2020 By Lindsay Gee

First and foremost, please know my son has approved this post. I would like to continue to honor and share his journey as I know our words have previously helped many adults and youth , and will do so only with his permission. As he grows, I want him to know that he has the power to help through sharing and educating – but should he choose to stop sharing at some point, I will honor and respect his wishes.

Quick review

For those new to my blog, here’s what you should know: I’m a Mom to two wicked kids, I used to own a business but now I happily work for others and I’ve battled my own mental illnesses in the past, present and most definitely future. My adorable and smooshie son was diagnosed with four mental illnesses at the age of 10: generalized anxiety disorder, social anxiety, panic disorder (this one is a real bitch) and depression (also a real sneaky shithead).

Anxiety & what we’ve learned

We’ve learned in counselling (about a year of it now), that anxiety is slippery and sneaky. We’ve learned we can shrink anxiety and worry, but we’ve also been educated that it’s always there, making plans and scheming how to take over again. Sneaky fucker.

For many kids with anxiety, Covid-19 was a blessing. No school, no sports, no problem. This was true for my son. He thrived at home. No panic attacks, much less worry, no depression. Now granted, for others, anxiety increased during Covid because well – HELLO GLOBAL PANDEMIC. But, for my son, it seemed to give him a chance to rest his neurological system, his physical body and worry was just a shadow of who he used to be.

Oh, FYI…my son named his anxiety “Dickson”. So, if I talk about Dickson, we’re talking about anxiety.

Fast forward to present day. School is back in session for us, full-time. Hockey ice times and now assessments are running. And Dickson is back and PISSED he’s been quiet for months. He’s now puffed up his chest like the total dickhead he is and forced himself to be heard, seen, felt and feared.

Panic has been back in our house now for a few weeks and it’s exhausting. My son has “high level” anxiety, says his counsellor. And when she says it, she looks at me like “Linds, babe – he’s got it bad. You’re not wrong that he battles – his anxiety is mucho mucho grande” – probably not those words – she’s a professional – but that’s how I read her face.

Panic attacks have occurred numerous times over the past few weeks. The fear and dread of seeing these come on for my son is all-consuming. I knew they would come. We all did. But DAMN, did we all wish he would be the one that it wouldn’t happen to. DAMN if we didn’t all hang on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he was the kid to outgrow it.

Erm. No. Not gonna happen, Linds. Nice try.

DAMMIT.

So, we see Dickson coming – all puffed up, furious that he’s been ignored, DEMANDING to be heard, seen, felt and fear – and my son and I – we strap on the battle gear and stand our ground.

The difference now though is that these attacks are bigger, harder, tougher than before. Dickson is mad at being ignored and forced into the background so he’s grown, gotten sneakier, gotten stronger. The attacks are also bigger because now WE are mad. We’re pissed it’s back. So now we have panic AND we have rage.

That’s not good, fyi.

Hockey is a big trigger for my son. We can’t pinpoint exactly what it is about hockey, but currently if we mention it – my son’s anxiety “tells” begin. Dancing feet, tongue moving side to side, fidgeting – they show up. I strap on my armour of strategy and get ready to work with Dickson and basically tell him to “fuck off and leave my kid alone”. Dickson doesn’t want to listen right now. He ravages my son and leaves him exhausted, depleted, apologetic (that one kills me) and yup – pissed at the fact that this is something he has to deal with.

“Why me, Mom?”

Aw man, buddy. Because you’re strong enough to handle it? Because it’s actually a gift you’ll understand later – this sensitivity of yours? Because you’re a mother fucking warrior and will get through this?

Nah. I just say “I don’t know, pal. I would take it away if I could”.

Back to the subject of hockey. If hockey is such a trigger, why not just quit?

“Because I love it with all I am, Mom”.

Good reason. Got it.

And that has worked for a few years now. We agree to play hockey. Our family supports our guy as he panics and we cheer and shimmy-shake when he gets on the ice.

The big decision

But this year is different. Covid has added an extra stress to a place we don’t need extra stress and Dickson has taken full advantage of this and is running rampant through my son’s mind and taking over his body.

If I may just quickly: Fuck you, Dickson.

My son and I have had numerous conversations about hockey this year. My husband and I have, too. It’s a constant thought in our minds – is all this suffering worth it?

For awhile, from my son, the answer was yes. But recently, there’s been hesitaton.

I feel my son worries about letting us down, feeling like a failure, “letting anxiety win” and there are a few things he should know:

  • As long he does what’s right for him, he won’t let us down.
  • There is no failure when you make a decision based on personal health and happiness.
  • Anxiety isn’t winning, we’re just controlling it – that little beast doesn’t get the best of you, O, you get to control him and the decisions you make to shrink Dickson back down? – THAT is winning,

We are in assessments right now at hockey. We haven’t been able to get to any ice times yet because – because well anxiety/panic. A few days ago I let our son know he had a practice coming up. The immediate panic response was visible. As we watched tv that night, my son turned to me and said “I’m getting really nervous about hockey”, and so began our conversation on the option to continue on or to not play this year.

We left it at “Let’s just table if for tonight and see how you feel in the morning”.

That night at bed, my son let me know again that he was nervous. It was all over his face. I said to him “O, why don’t we just take hockey off your plate tomorrow and see how you feel after that?”.

The visible reaction was incredible. You could SEE the weight lift off his chest and he took the biggest breath I think he’s ever taken in his life. A moment later he said “Whoa. That was a big breath”. I smiled and said “Yeah, I saw that and I did the same, buddy”.

We smiled at one another in that moment of knowing and, our continued support of one another grew again. As I left his room that night he quietly said “Mom, I don’t think I’ll play this year”.

“Sounds good, pal. How does that feel?”

And we both took another huge, cleansing breath and he said “Those were some big breaths for us both. I feel good”.

So, friends. No hockey for us this year. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love the sport. It 100% doesn’t mean he’s given up on managing anxiety. It means he’s chosen to put suffering away and choose a path he can manage and as his Mama – I COULD NOT BE PROUDER of that hard decision he just made.

Most adults I know aren’t as mature when it comes to doing what they need to do for their mental health as my 11-year old son.

This year, we play basketball. Practice last night was “the best basketball practice ever”. There was some nervousness going in – but hey – everyone gets nervous going into their first practice of the year. That is normal anxiety.

I’ve had a lot of people asking how our family is. To answer – we’ve been through the wringer the past month – but we’re growing, learning and managing. We’re happy and supported. My son is finding his voice when things bother him and THAT is worth it all.

Thanks for being here. Thanks for supporting us. Thanks for caring and asking. Our journey is not over and together we can do anything. From supporting one another, to knowing I have support from my husband at home to knowing I have a ray of sunshine from my daughter always waiting for us – we’re okay.

Filed Under: A Word About Family, Evolution of Parenting, Healthy Family, Mental Health Tagged With: buddy check for jesse, Childhood anxiety, childhood depression, childhood mental illness, panic disorder

Let’s Just Agree To Say It: F**k You, COVID-19.

April 9, 2020 By Lindsay Gee

Warning: Very ranty. Very sweary. DO NOT READ IF JUDGEY.

If one more person tells me to use this time in isolation for good, there is a 100% chance of a swift kick to the crotch and a jab-cross combo coming their way.

I don’t want to be positive about this pandemic. I don’t want to create anything new or come out of this thing with a new side hustle. I don’t want to renovate my house, do cutesie crafts with my kids and bond over the monotony that is our lives right now.

I’m tired of trying to fucking think of different things to do around the house to “keep the kids engaged”.

Fuck you, Corona. I want my life back. I want my kids’ lives back.

Also – you’re ugly.
*stomps feet, crosses arms, sticks tongue out*

Yesterday I went out and did some errands and damn if people aren’t super weird right now. I mean, okay – this is a pandemic, I get it. We need to be super careful. We need to self-isolate. But when you do need to go out for the essentials, it doesn’t mean that everyone walking past you is going to cough or sneeze on you – so don’t look at me like I’m a criminal as I put toilet paper in my cart – BECAUSE I NEED TOILET PAPER – I’m not fucking hoarding it.

Fuck you, Corona. You’re making people paranoid and er – scowly? So many scowls out there. I mean, COME ON, people. I’m not going to jump across the aisle and lick your face, so fucking relax.

So. Many. Swears.

Maybe it’s because I have two jobs that I’m trying to maintain, two kids to safeguard from all the fucking weirdos out there right now, a stupid rec room we needed to get organized to MOTHER-FUCKING HOMESCHOOL and a bunch of mental illnesses in my house (including my own) to make sure that we’re all okay.

(We’re all okay, btw.)

Aforementioned stupid rec room mid-renovation.

I have tried to stay positive for the past four weeks. I didn’t get to go on a vacation to Hawaii which was desperately needed and I’ve gotten over that. My kids are doing just fine. The rec room is almost done – but this total and complete feeling of overwhelm? Well – it’s sitting in my stomach like a cobra about to strike.

I couldn’t catch my breath yesterday…and I felt soooooo angry all day. Angry that my kids now can’t go and walk at the beaches and parks they love, even if they keep a proper distance. Angry that I can’t see my people. Angry that I can’t hug my people. Angry that I can’t just text my buddy and say “I gotta get outta here, meet me at the pub”. Angry that I can’t lick my peoples’ faces – okay – not that one.

Just. Angry.

So angry.

And yeah, yeah, yeah…I will get over the anger. I will get over this complete feeling of overwhelm I’m going through right now. Ugh, for the love…please don’t comment about how much I must hate my life or that I should be grateful to have a home, be healthy, etc (I know all this, I’m just ranting so LET ME RANT).

I love my life. But THIS is not my life.

I will do the crafts. I will watch ALL the movies. I will make this time as happy and healthy as I can as a Mom – all the while maintaining two jobs (and YES, I realize I am sooooooo very lucky to have kept my jobs – I am beyond grateful for this), one volunteer position (which makes my heart happy), two happy kids, one house in need of renovations and what the fuck? – now being called “Miss Lindsay” by my kids.

I swear…if the next 5 words don’t send you over the edge every day – are you even parenting through a pandemic?

“What are we doing tomorrow”?

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

I hate that question.

The same bloody thing we did today. We’re staying home, you’re doing an hour of school and then you’re probably going to end up bickering with your sibling for hours on end because you are booooooored and I am overwhelmed…then we’ll hug, say I love you, go to bed…on repeat…for what seems like forever and ever, amen.

Phewf. Rant almost over.

Listen, I know we’ll get through this. I know that we’ll be okay. I know that my sweet kids – who honestly are getting along so great and are being so awesome – will go back to school at some point in the next year (wtf…year?!). But for now, this Mom is 100%, absolutely, positively missing my people, giving hugs, smiling and I’d do anything to not walk around with this cobra of anxiety in my belly.

And you know what?! It’s okay. It’s okay to feel this overwhelm and this anxiety. This is a fucking pandemic we’re living through and it’s scary and overwhelming and the demands on parents right now are incredible. At least, it feels like it is for me.

I will get back to positivity soon, I’m sure. That’s what we do, isn’t it? We get through, we find the bright side, we forge ahead. But, for now…

Fuck you, COVID-19. Fuuuuuuuck you.

And…I’m done.

Filed Under: A Word About Family, Evolution of Parenting Tagged With: coronavirus, COVID-19, parenting during a pandemic

COVID-19 & Childhood Anxiety – The Surprise Twist

April 7, 2020 By Lindsay Gee

First and foremost let me start this by saying that I hope you’re all well. I hope you’re safe. I hope you’re healthy. What a wild world we’re living in right now. (Also…congrats to BC for doing an amazing job at flattening the curve – Dr. Bonnie Henry is my hero).

I have had many people emailing, messaging and texting me to check in on my son. If you’re unsure of our history – he has severe anxiety – and yes, it’s severe, I’m not being overly dramatic. He battles massive panic attacks and he fights his mental illnesses like a true warrior. He’s also my hero.

Here’s what I’d like you to know: My son is living his best life. He’s relaxed. He’s silly. He’s super funny. It’s as if his anxiety has disappeared (I assure you it hasn’t – it’s laying in wait, of this I’m certain).

Sure, he misses his friends and all his activities but the anxiety level in him has gone waaaaay down. I haven’t seen his tongue move side to side or his feet marching (two signs of him battling anxiety) for weeks and weeks.

Our self-isolation started with a lot of anger from him and I understand that. You see, we had a trip to Hawaii planned (leaving March 15) and since January I’ve said to him “Buddy, all we gotta do is make it to March 15th and then we’ll get a break. We just gotta hang in until then and then we’ll leave and take a breath”.

Mom fail.

How the hell could I know there’d be a pandemic?! But – he was angry with me – so angry. “You said all I had to do was make it to March 15!”. On repeat. Yikes. It was not awesome. But, he quickly got over his anger (quicker than me – I was pretty damn upset myself) when he learned that by staying home we were helping others.

“So, we’re like superheroes?”, he said.

What an awesome way to look at it. Kids are the best.

No school (middle school is hard). No sports (sports are hard). No anxiety.

Anxiety is at an all-time low. Have you checked in with your high-anxiety friends? I wonder if they’re feeling the same. Because it certainly seems that although people are concerned about COVID-19 – by self-isolating and taking care of themselves and others – well, anxiety for some is down, down, down.

I’ve recently learned to try to find the silver lining in all the bad that goes on in my life – some days that is hard. COVID-19 is awful, horrible and has put our entire world in an initial state of panic but now (at least a lot of us) in a state of camaraderie. My silver lining to this horrible pandemic? I get to see and experience my son in a state of no anxiety. It’s different. Amazing. And I’m holding on to him in this state as long as I can.

He’s resting. He’s reading. He’s playing with his Dad and sister. He’s silly and he makes us laugh. He loves family time. He still pushes his sister’s damn buttons – but hey – #siblinglife.

Thanks for checking in. Thanks for asking. My son is doing well and our family is safe and healthy. If you have a loved one that battles anxiety, I wonder if your experience is the same? I certainly hope so – because it’s a beautiful silver lining.

Filed Under: A Word About Family, Evolution of Parenting

Parents: Your Kids Know More About Mental Health Than You – Get With The Program

January 18, 2020 By Lindsay Gee

I was going to title this piece:

“Why?” – The question that almost made me lose my cool.

But, after some thought, the other title is better and hopefully many, many parents will read this as a way to grow their knowledge base around mental health and mental illness.

This week, my son (diagnosed with panic disorder, social anxiety, generalized anxiety disorder and depression) had a hard week. We’ve been doing really great for a few months but were warned that anxiety will creep up on you, punch you in the face, sit on your chest and demand attention at some point. That moment happened this week. Shoot. But, we’re a team and we stand together as he fights through his panic.

Team Owen – fighting one attack after the other with strength and love.

I have two scenes to share with you:

Scene 1:

Panic attack city. It started at home where my son demonstrated all of his anxiety “tells”. Tongue moving side to side, feet marching in place, pale, welling tears in his eyes.

Now, we don’t allow anxiety to rule our house and as long as my son is moving forward – I go with him. He gets a ride to school with a wonderful friend – he couldn’t get in the car. So, I ended up driving him to school because anxiety doesn’t win and I don’t allow him to let it, so WE GO TO SCHOOL.

He panics in the car. I finally get him inside. He panics in the school. I get him into the counselor’s office. He panics in the office. This has now been 1.5 hours.

He is battling HARD. He won’t let go of me. We breathe. We distract. We talk. We distract. And finally, he lets go of me and we can sit quietly for a second. We decide to go to the library to sort books – we distract.

At the library, there is a class reading. I move away from my son to talk to the librarian – who obviously doesn’t know how to handle kids with anxiety but is FULL of compassion and says “whatever he needs”.

But then, we ask permission from the adult in charge of the class and she says “You want to bring him in here like THAT?! – I mean, I guess – but *shrugs* – that won’t look good for him.”

Um…excuse me – pardon?

I leave it alone and go back to my son – but oooooooh, what I would have loved to say.

My son begins to engage with the librarian. She is wonderful. Distraction is key during panic attacks – engage another part of the brain. The school counselor (the unsung heroes of the education system) asks if my son would like a friend. He says “Oh yes, please” and asks for a compassionate, beautiful, warm, supportive friend he has (I adore this friend).

I told him I would get him (you see, I need to distance myself from my son during a panic or it rolls and rolls). I get to his class and see them inside, but the door is shut. So I knock. Behind me, a support staff asks what is happening and I tell her my son is having a panic attack and would like a friend.

Adult: “Why?”

Me: “Why what?”

Adult: “Why is he like that?”

Me: “He has a mental illness and he’s battling right now.”

Adult: “That’s weird. That must be embarrassing to be crying like that.”

Me: —

At that point, the teacher (she’s wonderful) came to the door, got my son’s friend and I didn’t have to reach over and strangle anyone. Back to the library – distraction in place (hello, book sorting ftw!) and support friend beside him.

BAM. That is how we do it! THAT is how we conquer a massive panic attack at school.

Scene Two:

I have a job with the Stigma-Free Society where I get to go to schools and talk about mental health/illness with our Children’s Mental Health Program (we also have a Stigma-Free Zone School presentation for older grades students in grades 7 – 12). It’s wonderful because I get to use my son’s experience to help kids learn, relate and know they’re not alone.

*And yes – he has given me permission to tell his story – thank you very much.

This week I got to speak with the sweetest Grade 4/5 class. I was warned they were a little rowdy, but they were wonderful.

Me: What do you think you can do if you see someone who is crying or upset?

Student: Ask them if they’re okay. Share your warmth.

End scene.

Isn’t that the most beautiful answer?!?!

Ask them if they’re okay. Share your warmth.

The difference between these two scenes caught be so off-guard this week, I’ve struggled to comprehend the incredible gap in compassion and understanding between adults and kids.

Kids win. Hands down.

Keep cool all of you adults who ARE educated and are starting to get mad at me for not acknowledging you – I’m not talking to you. There are many of us who are in the middle of this, fighting our way to get noticed and get attention to help educate those that are not. I salute you. I do. BUT – for the most part – our generation and the one before us SUCKS at understanding mental health issues.

No disrespect meant AT ALL – but it’s the truth. We grew up in an era of “get over it”, “suck it up”, and “get ahold of yourself”. It’s time to learn what this generation is now learning.

Compassion and understanding. Kindness. Warmth.

I love that I get to go into schools and talk about mental health and stigma. I love that I get to help this generation be the change and create safe places for people battling mental illness to exist and thrive.

Adults, please – get with the program.

If you’re unsure how to handle mental illness, the best place is for you to start using the word “mental illness” and start de-stigmatizing it. It’s nothing to be ashamed of or feared – the KIDS – they get this. But most adults, my lovelies…COME ON.

Educate yourself. Learn a little. No, learn a lot. Especially if you work with, coach or are around children and youth. Mental health matters and while a lot of the kids who are worrying and are nervous are not diagnosed with a mental illness – you can help them through their worrisome days with compassion, support and many, many strategies – BUT – you need to educate yourself.

If you ever see a child in a panic – please know there may be no specific moment that they’re upset about. Please know they would choose to be anywhere but in their brain at that time. Please know they can’t answer your WHY because they are fighting for their lives at that moment.

But to clearly answer the question of “WHY are they acting the way they are”? …it’s simple…

It’s called mental illness and they’re a f**king warrior fighting for peace at that moment.

So:

Share your warmth.

It’s so very simple.

Share. Your. Warmth.

Filed Under: Evolution of Parenting Tagged With: Childhood anxiety, mental health, mental health awareness, mental illness

What You Should Know About Coaching a Child with Anxiety

November 27, 2019 By Lindsay Gee

Let me preface this article with the fact that I am not a psychiatrist, psychologist or counsellor. These are my opinions based on battling mental illness alongside my son for the past 4.5 years. I will also add that these are knowledge nuggets applicable to my child. While he has mental illness on a greater scale than some and a lesser scale than others, I believe these few tips may help all coaches should they experience the honour of working with a kid with mental illness.

Why is working with a kid with mental illness an honour? I may be a little biased, but if you have a child with mental illness on your bench (there will be a lot of hockey references, as that as my child’s sport of choice for the most part – but would be applicable to most sports), you have a kid that fights to be there. You have a kid that truly wants to participate. Otherwise, they’d be home and not fighting for their life to play with their team. If you have a kid like that – that’s an honour and one I hope you don’t overlook.

One more thing before we get started – and this is critical – mental illness has no “face”…you cannot tell what a child may be going through – so if something seems different, ask.

Because this is the face of anxiety:

This is the face of anxiety:

And this is the face of anxiety:

Now…let’s begin…

1. Don’t be scared.

My son and I are very open about his mental illness. I truly understand what a gift that is from him. His openness to communicate about what he goes through allows exceptional awareness and education to those around him. Please don’t start immediately worrying that he’s a bomb about to go off as soon as you hear “the news”.

He’s not. Well…he is…but we have strategies to help him. If you find out a child on your bench has a mental illness, try to fend off the stigma you may have surrounding it and learn more. Which brings me to…

2. Trust the player’s parents.

With my son’s openness about his anxiety and panic disorder, we have pretty incredible communication with his coaches, teammates and parents. We both recognize that when you learn that he battles anxiety, it may be somewhat intimidating for you.

Let me help you. Anxiety, which may lead to panic attacks can look quite different for every child. Some kids may come off as loud and obnoxious. Some kids may become very quiet. For some kids, like my child, it’s far more visible. For my son, he hyperventilates, shifts his body back and forth, cries, often times he yells, sometimes he throws a glove (but that’s when it’s just him and I) and in that state, there is no reasoning with him. He is very busy “fighting tigers” in his brain.

So, trust the parents of the child battling to know what to do. They most likely have years of living with their child battling anxiety and know what to do. If they ask you to do something – do it. If they ask you to not do something – don’t do it. It’s that simple.

You MUST communicate with your player’s parents. We may ask you to check in with them. We may ask you to give them a fist bump. Or we may ask you stay away for a few minutes. Please know – at that moment – we are very focused on our child and we know exactly what they need, or to be as honest and open as possible, we sure hope we know what we’re doing.

Keep communication wiiiiiiiiiide open. Always.

3. Please know they want to be there.

This one is a toughie for most anyone to understand. When people see my child in the middle of a panic attack, I see the judgment. I see you watching us and thinking “WTH is wrong with that kid?” “If he wants to get on the ice, why doesn’t he just get on the ice?”. Or, “why doesn’t he just go home if this is so hard”?

Good question. Short answer – he really truly wants to get on that bloody ice but at that moment, anxiety has taken control and his brain won’t actually let him.

He wants to be there or he wouldn’t be fighting so hard.

One of the “best” things my son does is “allow” himself to panic anywhere. Although it truly suuuuuuucks, it allows people (coaches, parents, teammates) to see just what he is up against. He will yell things like:

“DON’T YOU THINK I WANT TO BE OUT THERE?”
“I WOULD GIVE ANYTHING TO BE OUT THERE RIGHT NOW”
“YOU WOULDN’T LAST A DAY IF YOU HAD TO LIVE THE LIFE I LIVE!”

And you know what? He’s right. He battles hard to get on that ice every single time. Every time he does step foot onto the ice, he gives me a shimmy-shake to let me know he’s okay. I live for those shimmy-shakes.

If you ever question if one of your players battling anxiety wants to be there – they do. Some days anxiety wins and we don’t manage to overcome. Some days (most day now after a lot of hard work) my son wins and he hits the ice, shimmy-shakes, and it is GAME ON.

4. Don’t baby them.

There may be a tendency to hold back on coaching a child with anxiety/panic disorder. I get that. You’ve just seen him panic for 15 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour – however long the attack went on. But, if the player wins the battle – give them a bop on the head, tell them you’re so happy to have them on the ice – and PUT THEM TO WORK.

Exercise and distraction, baby – they’re your best friends when it comes to coaching a child with a mental illness. Exercise to release hormones and distraction to well – distract the brain.

Don’t ever, ever baby them. Sure, your tone may need to be a little different. But the expectation of hard work, completing drills and being on the same level as other players – that’s critical. Don’t treat them differently. Sure, they just ran a marathon during their panic attack – but they’re there, so make them work.

5. Show compassion, give them a job, make them laugh.

I often get asked by coaches what they can do to help my son. The above three tasks would help immensely. Acknowledge how terrible what he just went through was. It helps to know you saw it, don’t ignore it, say something like – “Yow! That was something! I’m soooooooo happy you’re here!”. Tell him you’re proud to have him there, then get him to do something. Again – jobs distract. It helps a ton.

Once I have my son on the ice, if you acknowledge that he’s a rockstar and give him a job, we’re usually good to go. Make him laugh, be silly, bop him on the head, pretend to trip him – all those things – distraction and a release of joy for him help. Making him laugh is a huuuuuuuge help. Be silly. Be fun – if only for a moment.

The above three things are critical to you helping a player with anxiety.

6. Please don’t ask us to put our child in a place we know they will fail.

This goes back to trusting the parents again, but I felt it needed its own section. If we know a team photo will cause a panic attack – please don’t ask us to ask them to do it. Because they’ll trip into panic and set off an attack.

If we know asking them to wear new socks will cause a panic attack. Please don’t ask us to do it. Because we’re setting the player up for failure if we do and in the end, the player has to battle and the parent will feel like a terrible parent for weeks because she should have stood up for her son.

So, if a parent says “if you ask me to ask them to do this, it’ll cause a panic attack” – know we don’t say that lightly. Know that we know our child better than anyone else. Ask yourself if what you’re asking of the child is TRULY critical, or if it’s a “nice-to-have”. If it’s critical, I will work with my child, battle the panic attack, win and then feel guilty that I put him through that for weeks. If it is not critical… please, please, please don’t ask us to ask our child what it is you want. Let it go.

7. Help educate your team.

There’s a great initiative that started in BC called Buddy Check for Jesse. There are resources and coaches notes on the Buddy Check website on how to talk to your team about mental health challenges. I strongly suggest you go to the website, download the resources and talk to your entire team in the dressing room about what it means to be a good teammate both on and off the ice.

This doesn’t have to be a huge speech, a little education goes a long, long way.

And, it goes without saying – probably best to not point out the child who battles mental illness – LOL. Most of the team will be well aware of the child that has attacks like my child has – but other kids may battle silently and it sure would be nice for those quiet kids to know that they are also supported by their coach and teammates.

8. Last but not least – give yourself a break.

If coaching a player with a mental illness is new to you – be kind to yourself. You’re going to question what you did that may have created a panic attack. You’re going to question if you provided enough support. You’re going to question if getting them on the ice was the right thing. You’re going to question anything that creates a reaction from the player who battles.

As a parent who has had incredible coaches for my son but who has also had coaches who have worked with my son and who just don’t quite “get it” just yet…if you’re at least trying to understand, I am grateful. ANYTHING you try to do to help our child deserves our gratitude, our praise and our respect.

You’re going to feel like you’ve failed your player at some point, I guarantee it. You’re going to feel like you could have done something better, different, with better results, with more compassion. Please know you couldn’t have. You did the best you could at the moment you had – YOU tried to understand.

As a parent, if I see a coach TRY to understand my child, TRY to encourage him, TRY to understand what he goes through – you get a gold star for coaching.

The player may sometimes be able to tell you what they need. But some times they may not be able to tell you. Rely on the parents then. We are their safe place – as are you – but we have been working with them a little longer. Trust your gut.

The best tip I have for you, Coaches, is to keep communication open between yourself, the player and the players’ parents.

And always, always, always ask questions should you have them.

Hey, Coaches – you are THE BOMB. You have the power to change the way kids and youth view mental illness in sport. YOU have that power. I hope you take an opportunity to learn more because if you haven’t already, at some point in your coaching career you will absolutely, 100%, positively meet a child battling and they are going to need you, as will their parents.

Filed Under: A Word About Family, Evolution of Parenting, Health & Fitness, Healthy Family, Tips & Tricks Tagged With: #BellLetsTalk, #buddycheckforjess, buddy check for jesse, childhood mental illness, mental health awareness

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