We are 2/3 of the way through the Easter break. As requested, we haven’t done that much as he needed down time and doing nothing time. We have pottered, gardened, cooked, baked, planted lavender, seen a couple of friends, spent time outside, spent time inside and seen family. He has had more than enough screen time, but not too much screen time. We’ve tried to get a balance.

But now the dark clouds are circling. There is only a week left of the holiday. There is only another week before he has to put up with people, noise, lessons, cricket (no rugby this term, which is a big cause of anxiety) and food he doesn’t really like. There are 5 whole weeks til half term (a rather short term in teaching terms, which I am very grateful for), but the thought of 5 weeks of school before a week off is rather overwhelming to an anxious 12 year old.

We had a chat in bed last night (ours, not his) when the dark clouds were far too close for sleep. I asked him if, on the whole, there were more OK days than not OK days at school. He answered yes. Were there more good or OK bits in most days than not OK bits? Again, yes. So, I ventured, that means that if school was like test marks, it would pass. It would actually do OK, probably over 75% OK? He agreed. But, the thing is, it could be 95% OK and the 5% of not OK would bring him down. That’s the problem with anxieties, worries or dark moments. You can have so much good time, you can have hours of smiles or laughter but your over-riding memory can be of the moments of darkness and anxiety. Some times the dark clouds reach through the laughter and grab you just when you feel you should be happy. There is no logic, or sense of rhythm with anxieties. Obviously there are triggers, but there are also unexpected moments of fear and of drowning. Just because it was OK yesterday doesn’t guarantee it’ll be OK today – but just because you couldn’t face a coffee with friends yesterday doesn’t mean you won’t be able to face it today.

As a parent of an anxious child, that unpredictability makes helping them cope (and helping us cope) much harder. If he had an allergy, we would avoid said allergen. If he had a phobia of something, even something unusual such as water or grass, we could work round that and avoid the trigger. But anxieties haven’t read the rule book. They don’t follow a pattern. They don’t make any sense whether you are the parent or partner of someone who is anxious, or if you are the anxious person.

So, today we got out of the house and went for a walk. We were outside, there were people (but not too many), and we climbed and explored and looked. We had a (quick) drink in the cafe and a (quick) look round the gift shop before heading home, and it was a nice, safe morning out. At the moment the dark clouds are only in the distance and I would say we had hazy sunshine overhead at the moment, which is great.

I have no doubt the darker clouds will gather close to bed time, when the busyness quietens and the anxious thoughts have a chance to be heard again, but we will have more conversations (probably in our bed again), and we will do what we do every time. We will listen, we will acknowledge and we will do our best to shine a light in the dark, and allow sunnier dreams to banish the clouds for a little while.