“The level of anxiety, and the number of students with it, is unprecedented.”
In the fall of 2020 I asked a colleague where she had seen the greatest change in her twenty-plus decades of counseling college students. Her answer mattered to me not only as a mental health counselor, but also as a parent. That this answer came from her when we had only begun navigating the COVID pandemic is alarming, as few would disagree that the pandemic incited an enormous rise in mental health crises.
Only last month, the White House unveiled two new initiatives to tackle youth mental health in America. As Christian parents, what are we to do when our emerging adults exhibit symptoms of anxiety? The answer is often as complex as the individual, which is why professional mental health treatment is often necessary. Of course, as parents we still play a major part in our child’s navigation of such experiences.
The following is by no means an exhaustive treatment of teenagers and anxiety, but rather several tools to incorporate into parents’ understanding of and approach to anxiety. We begin and end with the anchor of our souls – the Word of God.
Look to God’s Word. The anxious teenager will find plenty of good company in Scripture. Some very beloved-by-God people struggled with anxiety! Scripture explores the tumultuous inner lives of many people who walked closely with God. Abraham had serious apprehensions about God destroying Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 18). Moses had anxiety about his own abilities (Exodus 4). The Psalms are rife with what we might describe as moments, or seasons, of angst. The disciples were worried to the point of abandoning Jesus (Mark 14:50). It appears, particularly in Luke’s account, that Jesus himself experienced great agitation in body and soul the night before His crucifixion. The Bible is not divorced from the experience of being troubled, worried, or concerned. Later we will see how anxiety does not get to be the last word in the Christian experience. For now, it is good to acknowledge with the Bible that we live in a broken world and each of us experiences the reality of that brokenness, sometimes responding with anxiety.
Anxiety is a physical and necessary reality. Because our broken world can be dangerous, some degree of anxiety allows us to stay alive and navigate emergency situations. The fear response works deep in our brain, arousing the automatic nervous system (sometimes referred to as the “feeling brain”). This controls our breathing and heart rate, among other things. This makes us automatically jump and gasp at sudden, loud noises. We are primed to respond to danger quickly and automatically. Some of us seem to be naturally, from birth, more wired to be alert and sensitive; for others, trauma rewires our brain this way.[1]
I often tell my clients the goal of therapy is not to turn off anxiety but turn the volume down on that anxiety so they can “hear” other things. For teenagers who are still developing mentally, emotionally, and physically, the events that feel dangerous to them may seem arbitrary (or absurd) to adults. But for the teenager, the danger signal in their brains is literally going off and they feel physically, emotionally, and mentally overwhelmed – a state we sometimes refer to in counseling as “flooded.”
Anxiety management is a journey. Because anxiety has a physical component, one cannot simply “think” oneself out of it. While certainly the practice of restructuring thoughts can help, it is rarely the sole solution. To challenge someone to just “get over it,” or, with a spiritual spin, “just trust God,” is akin to telling them to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. Furthermore, teens and (to a lesser extent) young adults are not known for being particularly apt at long, well-articulated, rational thought directed at the self. Developmentally they are literally in biological developmental overdrive[2] which means that the “feeling” brain is in the driver’s seat. This means that thinking themselves out of fear feels even more insurmountable.
Absolutely, the Christian is exhorted by Paul to renew their mind (Rom. 12:1) and take every thought captive to Christ (2 Cor. 10:5) – but, as Paul shows in his own growth, this takes time. Adolescents and young adults are still quite new to all of life – including mental, emotional, and spiritual development. Such growth is often two steps forward, and one step back. This is precisely why we have all the New Testament epistles – the recipients of such letters were nascent in their faith and still journeying. Both exhortation and encouragement are critical – and both happen in relationship that considers and is committed to the journey.
Anxiety regulates in relationship. Without meaning to do so, we can effectively isolate other people via our reactions to their emotions, especially children and adolescents. Recall that anxiety literally hijacks the survival part of the brain, sending adrenaline rushing throughout our bodies. Besides the heart racing and palms sweating, fixation on the threat is part of the body’s wiring to survive. So, when an anxious child meets a dismissive response from a trusted person, such as a parent, they may feel even more alarm. Without meaning to, a parent can actually feed into and intensify the frightening feelings of their adolescent by responding in a way that shames their child. Shame is an isolating emotion and isolation is an anxiety-inducing experience. (Even for those of us who are more introverted, isolation eventually creates distress.) Humans need connection, particularly developing humans – teenagers — and particularly when they are in a state of experienced vulnerability.
The good news is that anxiety can be managed because the human brain is very elastic, especially during the developmental years. If, as we discussed, trauma can rewire the brain, so can love, support, and practice.[3] What role does a parent have in all this?
First, the parent can listen without prejudice, attempting to cross the gap between ourselves and the anxious child by identification. Naturally, no one does this perfectly, hence the word “attempt.” Rather than trying to achieve a quick resolution of painful emotions, make your goal to connect with the child. Even if we know what’s about to be expressed is not the cataclysmic event our child quite literally feels it is, we move towards the child rather than away in order to establish some safety for them in the midst of their fear. We display openness to understanding their experience without attaching personal meaning to ourselves.
This is one of the foundational reasons therapy can be successful. Unlike a parent, the therapist is not attempting to function day-in-and-day-out with your anxious teen, so the therapist can truly give their full presence without agenda. Of course, as parents we do have to get them out the door, make the meals, supervise the homework, encourage the child to make that phone call or show up for that event, and so on. We live as families, which means so much of life is a management game. We simply have to work together – parents and kids – to function as a family. Again, this is why a good therapist could be one of you and your child’s best tools in the journey.
I’ve heard it said that best people to counsel teens are those who can remember phenomenologically that time in their lives – who can still see, feel, hear, taste, and smell those teenage years. For some parents, the teen years were painful. Who wants to go back there mentally or emotionally? Actually, our own baggage can be a major obstacle in the connection with our children if it is unprocessed. Feelings of fear, disgust, and pain all frighten us as they are usually accompanied by a sense of powerlessness. Perhaps we are overbearing with our anxious child because we don’t want them to experience what we did, or perhaps we attempt to shut our child down because we don’t want to experience emotional paralysis yet again.
Even a couple of sessions with a therapist you trust can help you process and normalize such memories, and therefore take much of the power out of them. Then we parents will be less likely to overidentify with our anxious children. On the other hand, too much emotional distance – rather by choice or because we somehow navigated adolescence miraculously unscathed – also makes it difficult to relate to our child. We want to aim for a healthy amount of identification. We come with a listening ear and tap into our own processed and (mostly) resolved similar past experiences. This does not mean we one-up our teen with our own stories of vulnerability, nor do we share every gritty detail. We may not actually let them know we were there once, too. We simply allow ourselves to recall what it was like, which can soften us and make our relational stance one of openness.
This is the gospel, is it not? The Son came down from the comfort of his heavenly home and purposefully identified with us to the point of the cross (Phil. 2:1-18). His heart towards us is one of understanding and compassion as he acknowledges our struggles (Heb. 4:12-16). Listening to our anxious teen and allowing ourselves to have a soft, but not raw, posture creates connection. This is vital to anxiety management. Remember that a crying baby is usually soothed by contact with someone they love. That same powerful love still binds the anxious teenager and their parent.
This article is not in the place of counseling and my recommendations are not in the place of seeking the help of a mental health professional.
[1] van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.
[2] Jensen, F. E., & Nutt, A. E. (2016). The teenage brain: A neuroscientist’s survival guide to raising adolescents and young adults. Harper.
[3] van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.
