She was only 16, but she was convinced she was having a heart attack.
Although I assured her she was a healthy young woman and it was highly unlikely she had heart problems, she was terrified something was seriously wrong. From her repeated visits to online medical sites, a practice we had teased her about for years, she recognized all her symptoms: heart palpitations, shortness of breath, chest pain and a sense of choking. She walked around with her hand on her chest, trying to rub away her increasing discomfort. Over the course of several weeks, the pediatrician and cardiologist confirmed her heart was indeed healthy and suggested perhaps we might consider other causes for her symptoms. I gently told her it was time to see a psychiatrist to talk about her anxiety.
While her symptoms did not reach crisis level until shortly before her junior year in high school, we always knew Brooke was a “worrier.” We had been through any number of incidences where her fears and worries interfered with her doing things she loved to do. She perseverated about her health, with every twinge of discomfort morphing into a potential brain tumor and a visit to the doctor. Every field trip or church camp required weeks of pep talks prior to leaving, although she would ultimately go and have a wonderful time. Each new school year presented additional worries about new teachers and friends. Brooke required an enormous amount of reassurance and verbal processing. And the reminder, over and over again, that she was a brave soldier.
No one outside of our inner circle ever suspected her struggles. While we knew how much she worried, she appeared to the world to be fearless. She played sports, auditioned for and performed lead roles in numerous plays, had many friends and did well academically. A natural leader, she appeared comfortable in every social situation. She was the life of every party, with a hilarious sense of humor. She was one of the popular kids; beautiful, poised and sure of herself…at least on the outside. This was not a kid who seemed on the surface to be having any troubles navigating the perils of adolescence. This was not a kid who the guidance counselors would have flagged for intervention.
Brooke began having panic attacks the summer her older sister was preparing to leave for college. I remember a night when she woke me up because she was struggling. I took her back to her room and tried to reassure her she was safe, yet even I wasn’t convinced. The look of sheer terror in her eyes chilled me to the bone and I was afraid I was losing her to the demon who was whispering in her ear. In that moment, as anyone who has ever had a panic attack can tell you, she was absolutely certain she was dying. I prayed out loud and held her until it passed. I told her emphatically we would do whatever it took to make these panic attacks stop.
And we did.
After an evaluation by the amazing psychiatrist who became our companion on this journey, the decision was made to put her on medication to help her get the panic attacks under control and make the anxiety more manageable. The first medication we tried made things worse. She sank into a deep depression and struggled with simple tasks she had been managing with no problem before. For months, it felt like we were going backwards, instead of forward. Because each medicine takes time to get to a therapeutic dose, the process of trying each medication would take weeks. A week at this dose, followed by a week at the next dose, wondering if we were seeing any progress, our hearts sinking as we realized things were getting worse instead of better. Once the decision was made to switch to a different medication, the slow painstaking process would begin again. Weaning off the old medication, gradually introducing the new. Watching, waiting, hoping.
While we began the medication trial and error, we also began the search for a therapist to help Brooke learn the new skills necessary to manage her anxiety. Again, we tried one for several months before deciding she wasn’t a good match. Looking back, I think the eventual success of finding the clinical social worker who she ultimately found helpful probably had more to do with the fact she was finally on the right medicine by the time we found her. While it is not true for everyone, in Brooke’s case, she was not able to truly benefit from the process of therapy until she was stabilized on the correct medication. Thank God, her psychiatrist was a gift straight from heaven and was a tremendous partner in Brooke’s journey back to health. Throughout the process, she continually promised Brooke she would be healthy enough to go to college when the time came.
Brooke is now indeed a healthy, happy college sophomore. She is continuing to learn about the ways in which her brain works best and is still followed by a doctor. She is confident of her ability to manage her health and knows what to do when she hits a rough patch. She knows how to ask for help and still surrounds herself with people who will tell her she is a brave soldier on the harder days. She knows her anxiety disorder and ADHD diagnoses are only a part of who she is, but she also knows they are a part of her life she must intentionally manage on a daily basis.
Brooke’s junior year in high school was a nightmare in many ways. Seeing your child suffer and not being able to fix it is excruciating. During the depression stage of her journey, we were constantly checking with her to make sure she was safe. Too many teens in our community had succumbed to a singular moment of seemingly unbearable pain and ended their lives. For a time, it was my constant fear and we watched her closely for any sign she might be in danger. I was constantly torn by when to let her withdraw and recharge and when to push her to try harder to live a “normal” life. I struggled to find a balance between hovering over her and constantly taking her emotional temperature and giving her some space and treating her like a normal, ornery teenager. I reminded her again and again that God was right smack in the middle of this with us. Every day was an occasion for prayer. Every day a reason for gratitude. We believed in the process and we believed in Brooke. With our help, with God’s help, she fought her way back. She is my hero.
Earlier this week, Brooke beautifully shared her story in an online article for her college’s 
Odyssesy magazine. She is twice the writer I am and I encourage you to read her brave account, if you have not done so already. When I told her how proud I was of her willingness to encourage others by sharing her story, I asked her if she would be comfortable with me doing the same from a parent’s perspective. As I knew she would, she wholeheartedly agreed.
Like her, I want other families to know they are not alone. With the right help, people get better, the process works. Mental illness is not something about which any of us should be ashamed. Parents, we have to stick together and love each other through these hard spaces. Please let me know if there is some way I can encourage you or be praying for you and your family.
Thank you for shining the light on anxiety and mental health. If only there were more people like you to support those of us out there with anxiety and panic. Thank you for sharing Brooke’s story. I am off to read her article! 🙂
I’m so glad you stopped by! Prayers for peace, new friend! One day at a time. Philippians 4:6-7
Kelly – Thank you so much – you and Brooke – for sharing such a personal and intimate part of your lives. My oldest daughter struggles with anxiety and depression and I struggle with knowing how best to support her. You have encouraged me to seek counseling for her which we have not done yet. She has been on medication prescribed by our doctor but even that has it’s limits. Your openness and Brooke’s beautiful prose on dealing with it have given me comfort and hope. Merit
Love you, Merit! Comfort and hope is exactly what I was hoping would be the result of our sharing our story. <3
Kelly, thank you for recounting your experience with Brooke. I didn’t know…suffice to say that I have personally traveled this same road as Brooke, and later like you as a parent as well. Anxiety is often not detectable on the outside, and so I never would have guessed that we share these parallels. These amazing, bright, creative, talented, faithful children have unlimited potential! Their journey will make them that much stronger, this I know.
Warm regards,
Hoori
Thank you for your words of encouragement, Hoori. So glad our children brought us together and I completely agree with your prognosis for our brilliant, creative kids. The sky is the limit for our brave warriors!
Thank you, Kelly, for sharing a very personal experience. My daughter has had a journey with depression and anxiety after her father passed away. It is heartbreaking to watch them suffer. Hugs to you and yours.
Kelsey, so glad you stopped by. I can only imagine the pain a child might experience at the loss of a parent. I’m so grateful she had her strong mama to help her navigate her way through. You are a blessing, new friend!!
Thanks, Kelly! More people need to share stories such as this because far more people struggle than most of us know. I am so glad you and she persevered until she had the right combination of medication and help to bring her to health. I retired a year and a half ago from 25 years working as a clinical counselor. This is a story and testimony well worth telling.
Thanks for your encouragement! And thank you for your years of important work with those who struggle with these issues. I am a clinical social worker by training myself, but it is a whole different deal when it is your own child. So grateful for those who guided us and encouraged us during our journey.
You’re right! It is one thing to be trained professionally and another live and deal with it. The head may know a great many things, but the heart has its own challenges with the same information.
Someone just sent me this piece and I love it. My daughter and I have started to blog our story as well. http://www.notyourneurotypicals.com. We all need to support each other on this journey and are stronger together. Thanks for sharing yours!
Lisa, thank you so much for stopping by! You are so right about being stronger together. I will definitely go check out you and your daughter’s blog! Good for you for telling your story…it will bless other people! ❤️
Thank you for including the medication component. Many people are fearful of taking medication due to the numerous cultural messages making medication out to be some kind of evil that’s a trick from “the man” to control [fill in your conspiracy of choice]…. Blabber blubber blabbering.
Medication can be a lifesaver when drowning in mental illness. You took it one step further than most writers by sharing you don’t just get some bottle from the pharmacy called Anxiety-B-Gone, take 2 tablets and a herd of unicorns, in a cloud of rainbow glitter, start following you around as a buffer to all things anxiety provoking in the world. It takes weeks of increasing doses, weeks to see how things go, if no-go it takes weeks to taper off because you don’t just stop like it’s an aspirin. Then repeat, weeks going up, weeks for trial, weeks tapering off, etc. until you land on the right medicine for the person taking it. It can be 6mo. to a year or more to get the medication.
It’s a similar but more nuanced process for finding the talk therapist, but with schedules, open to new patients, personalities clicking, schools of training clicking, correct gender, location, office environment (does it always smell like onions?)
If you are an adult in the midst of a brain function disharmony, those are a lot of items to navigate; lucky are those of us with wonderful partners. Blessed is the child/young woman with parents to help navigate. It can take over a year to get medication and therapist settled before the work of healing can begin.
As an adult on my own it took me 20+ years and finally landed with the most ideal providers. I would start and stop for the reasons above or because I didn’t have insurance, or I did but was told I didn’t have a problem, or I did have a problem but didn’t have a job, or just get over yourself you are being too: dramatic, sensitive, emotional, needy, sinful, self-indulgent, ridiculous…. or you need to be: more disciplined, prayerful, attending church more, tithing fully, change your mind that’s all there is to it, trying this vitamin/herb/supplement my cousin is selling that totally helped her with…what is it you have again?
So I guess my point is, it healed my heart a bit to read how you took the reins and cared for you daughter. The two of you faced the same challenges most of us face in getting the treatment plan that is right for us. It’s not simple like a sinus infection that needs antibiotics, but you didn’t give up. You pushed past disappointments and tried again. That’s valuable for people to know, that you have to knock on a lot of doors before you get to the right ones that help.
Thank you so much for this encouraging message. I am so glad you also have found the pieces of the puzzle necessary to help you find some relief. I loved your description of how people expect “magic” early in the process…I would however enjoy having a herd of unicorns drop by some days! 🙂 Thank you for sharing your story and for stopping by the blog. Wishing you all the best as you continue your journey.