I’m still struggling and experiencing panic attacks!
Today , at work, I was hit with a wave of anxiety that I couldn’t shake. My mind kept drifting back to the morning conversation with my son. He seemed down, and when I asked him why, he shared his frustration with me.
My son had recently broken his foot in an accident while we were riding our electric bikes to the grocery store. We had done this trip before, and he was always so creative, using a makeshift cart to help carry things. This time, though, things took a terrible turn.
We were stopped at a light, waiting to cross a major street. The light turned green, and I told my son to go, but he hesitated because the walk signal hadn’t changed yet. I insisted, and a car next to us honked, making me even more impatient. My son trusted me and proceeded, only to be hit by the car that turned into him. His foot was run over, causing a bad break and severe road rash.
At that moment, everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. My son cried out, “Dad, I broke my foot!” I took off his sock and tried to convince myself—and him—that it wasn’t broken. The driver of the car panicked and started blaming me, but I knew it was my fault for insisting he go.
As we headed to the ER, I was in denial, more worried about the medical expenses than my son’s well being, which I now regret deeply. My wife, understandably distraught, insisted we get him examined. Throughout this ordeal, I tried to deflect blame, but I knew I had to be honest with my wife and my son. He trusted me, and I let him down.
The days following the accident have been tough. Both my son and I are healing, but the anxiety and guilt I feel are overwhelming. He has forgiven me, but I haven’t forgiven myself. This incident has triggered my own struggles with anxiety and panic attacks.
On our way to school this morning, my son was feeling down because he couldn’t play with his friends on the playground. He just wanted the cast off. I apologized, saying, “I am so sorry I caused this,” and he replied, “It’s okay, Dad. Just next time, can you please listen to me when I tell you the sign says not to go?” I promised him I would. He hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek, holding me a little longer, trying to console me.
This isn’t a feel-good story about overcoming adversity. It’s about facing it and sharing my experience in hopes of overcoming it. Perhaps someone reading this can find solace in knowing it’s okay to share your feelings. My son and I are both on a journey to heal, and I hope that by being honest about our struggles, we can make a positive difference. ~ Josh Hultman