Every day when my son and his friends would be excited to enter playschool, while four-year-old Aman* would cling hard to his Granny and refuse to enter, “tummy pain, no-no school, no-nooooo school”.
Granny would roll her eyes, look exasperated and begin her twenty minutes monologue on how what a joyride kindergarten is and that she’ll be back in no time to pick him up for home.
Aman looked terrified. Seriously terrified.
A couple of moms, including me, took turns to explain, comfort, reassure but the little fellow would budge and stop wailing only when eventually Granny lost her temper and threatened no nursery rhyme videos for a week. Granny felt awful, would often sheepishly justify while a visibly defeated Aman reluctantly entered the school courtyard.
We could see how worry was becoming part and parcel of a four-year-old’s routine but of course dismissed it as adjustment issues. Which kid doesn’t have fears, right?
A year later, at five, Aman has been diagnosed with classic symptoms of general anxiety; he is mostly home-bound and is making negligible progress in therapy so far.
As a mother myself, the diagnosis sounds unconscionable and astonishing. But the diagnosis is becoming more and more common and it even has a name - preschool depression.