A new understanding
Mike and I were done all our major shopping the week before Thanksgiving. We had no plans to go out into the stores during the month of December, and believe me, this is very much intentional.
I have a very mild case of social anxiety disorder, which means that at most times, I am perfectly fine in public, even in large crowds. I have coping techniques that work well for me. If we are trying to make our way through a really large crowd, I focus all my attention completely on Mike, and I place my hand on his shoulder. As long as I can see him, and feel him, I am okay. But occassionally, in really crowded places, where the noise level starts to get overwhelming, I can feel myself freaking out. Claustrophobia begins to set in, and I can feel the air around me evaporating. It gets hard to breathe, I feel the need to escape, I have to GET OUT.
I know I got this from my mother, in spite of all her attempts to shield us from it. She suffered the exact same condition, only it was worse in her case. She actually had claustrophobia as well as some social anxiety, but like I said, she attempted to hide us from it. She was determined that her shortcomings and paranoias would not be passed down to her kids. For this reason, even though they terrified her (I only found this out when I was older), she would get on the elevator with us, and although she might get really quiet, she wouldn’t ever, not once, complain or freak out about the ride. She wanted us to know that elevators are cool, they are okay, they are normal, no problem. She wanted us to live our lives with as few fears and phobias as she could.
In crowded stores, especially at Christmastime, when things started to get overwhelming, she would go out and sit in the car for a while. She would simply tell my dad that her feet were getting really tired, and she needed to go sit down for a while. To us children, it was normal. Mom was tired, she was going to go sit down. We had no idea that in her mind, she was beginning to feel the world closing in and needed some space.
Only in fighting my own adult fears am I beginning to understand all that my mom did for her children. She fought her own personal demons, and she fought quietly, so that we would be stronger people than she perceived herself as. She taught me that it was okay to be afraid of things, but that you NEVER let that fear control you. You never let it shape the people around you into models of your own phobias, especially when dealing with your children. Yes, I suffer from similar fears now, but not from her lack of trying to protect me from them.
My mom was a good mom. Actually, in many ways, my mother was a great mom. In the years that have passed, in the conflicts that have occurred, in the hurts that have been done on both sides of the fence, it is sometimes easy for me to forget that. It is easy to let bitterness and hurt feelings cloud the fact that my parents did a good job raising their children. I have a bad habit of letting the “here and now” cloud the view I have of the past, especially when it comes to my family.
What I need to remember is this one very important fact: the past and the present are two completely different things. Yes, there are things that tie them together, but it is okay for me, in fact, it is necessary for me, to separate the two in my mind. I need to be able to feel the way I feel about my family now, and still look back at my childhood and know one thing.
I had a great childhood. I had a great family. I had great parents.
December 16th, 2009 at 9:17 am
Your mom was amazing. It is incredible what we will do for our children. Things that are difficult must be done no matter what.
I hate crowds as well. They kind of freak me out too. I don’t like being packed in with no real way of escape. I first learned I was claustrophobic when reading a book in middle school about a boy who climbed into a badger hole that was so tight he had to use his toes to propell himself forward. The thought terrified me. It still does.
My Christmas shopping was completely done the week before TG as well.
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December 16th, 2009 at 1:41 pm
Those last two paragraphs were beautiful.
I can also relate to having to make the distinction of what was in my past, and what lies in my present.
Even through all the heartache I experienced, I can now look at my parents and be full of love and respect for them… perhaps even more so now than I ever did growing up. I have fully come to love and accept the imperfect and fallible people that they are. Where there once was resentment is now a quiet peace about what happened all those years ago. I am always troubled by people who blame the decisions that they make in life on their parents and the choices their parents made – that has always resonated with me in an extremely hollow and desperate way.
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