It is with great pleasure that I welcome Ruth to my blog today. I wish her great success with the book and thank her very much for joining us.
“My Baby Has What?”
That was my mom’s response when my doctor told her I had separation anxiety. How, she wondered, was that possible? With two parents and three much older siblings, my feet never touched the floor. But that was only the beginning.
Shortly after my 27th birthday, I was diagnosed with severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Up until that point, my family and I just assumed my peculiar thoughts and behavior were “normal” for me.
They always commented on how I worried about everything. “You’re just like your grandpa,” they would say. I did worry about everything. In kindergarten, I was terrified I wouldn’t be promoted to first grade because I was having trouble learning to tie my shoes. At age eight I was admitted to the hospital for tests on my stomach. I’d had a stomachache every day of my life. All the test came back negative. The diagnosis? “Nerves.” said the doctor. “You just have a nervous kid.” But what does a parent do with that? And back then no one did anything about “nerves” or “worries.”
At age nine, I was sure I had cancer, and would die soon. I can vividly remember playing in the yard, having that thought. I looked down at my ankle. Is that where it would start? Would my leg turn black and fall off? Thankfully, that never happened! But the thought gripped me and stuck with me for months.
Along with the worries came depression, although back in the sixties, no one ever addressed it. It was taboo to even discuss it. But, looking back I can clearly see that’s what was going on in my head. I always wondered why my family enjoyed everything so much more than I did. And yet, I was always the one who looked forward to things the most. But somehow, when the family dinner, party, or get-together arrived, it never turned out like the perfect picture in my head. It was always off somehow. Definitely lacking.
But we all assumed that’s just how I was. And frankly, I didn’t know any other way to be.
Out of the four children in my family, I seemed to get the bulk of the negative thought processes. My sister and two brothers didn’t seem to be bothered by stomachaches, shyness, bouts of crying, or fear of the unknown. They weren’t terrified of going to school, that their parent’s would die and leave them, or that no one, ever, would love them enough to marry them when they grew up.
The OCD didn’t noticeably rear its ugly head into my life until my twenties. Sometimes I wonder, if we’d known where I was headed, if its effects could have been lessened somehow. Maybe if I’d been diagnosed with depression as a child, I might have been spared the severity of it later. We’ll never know. The good news is, I’m so much better now! With my psychiatrist’s care, and taking daily Prozac, my life is now happy, healthy, and calm. The good news for your child is: now issues such as OCD, depression, and anxiety are more readily discussed. There are more treatments available. Parents have many, many more resources to help them. So, if your child exhibits any of these problems, take heart. There is help for them!
Please visit Ruth’s website or you can email her. The book is only available directly from the publisher (you can purchase via their website or by email).
