A pattern I have consistently followed is obsessive worry. Most people worry, but there are people like me who have an anxiety issue far bigger than it should be. Left untreated, it’s like the roots of a tree invading all our pipes. Eventually, we get clogged up behind the excess anxiety created in our own minds.
To a person who doesn’t suffer from Generalized Anxiety Disorder, it is probably difficult to understand why we can’t let things go and move along. I have asked myself that question millions of times.
I believe I have tamed most of my anxiety until I’m proven wrong. In this instance, constant worry over our oldest son’s state of mind and happiness. The outcome of any of life’s challenges can be influenced by what we do at this moment, but we can’t control the end result.
Which brings me to what is really on my mind this morning.
Being a mom of adult kids requires constantly switching gears. Throughout their lives, we watch our kids gradually grow into independent beings. They will need us less and less–except for dinner and money–and apparently how to get the casing of an edamame bean from the back of their throat.
Yes, I felt needed.
Our oldest son had been annoyed by this little piece of vegetation stuck in his throat for days and he asked me for some cures. My mom remedies were to gargle, eat something a little more rough, eat a banana. Coke—that stuff can corrode many things, it could surely wash the hull down his throat. The last resort was Dr. Google.
Anyway, the matter has been resolved, and it led to the best conversation I have had with my son since—forever.
He went through the tedious explanation of how enzymes, saliva, and the organic nature of the object will eventually work together breaking down the structure of the hull, allowing the body to do what it does. His wording may have been different, but that is what I heard. I thought, Okay, thanks for the science lesson.
He then sat down.
We talked about depression, his childhood, future plans, his job, a tiny bit of history, religion, politics, and human behavior. We discussed his frustration about not having a friend who he can relate to. Funny thing, he has a friend just like him–or very similar. The only problem is that he lives on the west coast. Neither of them use social media or do well talking over the phone.
His IQ has never been tested, but I would bet it’s well above average. Some would call him gifted, but we chose not to label him. He didn’t want to stand out among his peers and we honored his wishes. However, he couldn’t relate to his friends, and the public school system is poor at it’s best–even the accelerated or advanced courses. We helped to feed his curiosity and need to learn as best we could at home. According to him, school, including college, was a complete waste of time.
I found out that he has worked through the issues of dealing with stupid people as he matured. He can’t do anything about his perceived lack of their intelligence or their obnoxious behavior. He hasn’t joined the rest of the robotic human race, he has come to recognize what part he plays–which he constantly questions.
Hmm…my excessive mom worry wasn’t warranted. He has this covered. He understands depression and, like his mom, will take the necessary steps to seek help. We simply have to find a therapist who has an above average IQ. One who understands the type of person he is. One that understands he doesn’t fit the mold of more common forms of depression. He requires a different approach.
My worry is misplaced, all I needed to do was hear what he was saying and not try to fix or change him.
I should worry about myself, I’m frantically working on keeping up with blogging, reading blogs, organizing my hoard, purging the excess crap, finding a plumber, squish in knitting, and all the other household chores that need to be accomplished. I would like a clone, but I’m pretty positive I would think my clone wasn’t doing things to my specifications. eye roll