A breaking point

This afternoon was one of those days that only moms of children with anxiety can truly understand. Thomas started going to a lego program at the community center last week.  I stayed with him for the first class, because he was really scared for me to leave.  This week, I discussed with Thomas that I needed to run an errand while he did his program and that I could not stay.  I took him to the Lego program early, got him set up with his friend and talking.  We had talked about what was going to happen, made a reward chart for each time he was able to stay and had gotten him confident for the class.  I needed to run to the grocery store with the hour I had. 

When I went to leave Thomas just couldn't handle it.  He came bolting down the hallway screaming like someone was attacking him.  He looked absolutely terrified.  After a few unsuccessful attempts on mine and the teacher's part to get him back into the room, I just lost it.  I could see that he was so truly terrified to stay without me and he kept saying he was scared, but in my head I was just so frustrated.  

Looking back on it, I feel like a horrible mother, but the frustration just got the best of me today and I just yelled at him.  I stormed out the building with him following me.  We got in the car and I just cried and cried.  I cried for being so mean to him when he was so scared and needed me, then I cried for my poor boy who for some reason was having this awful anxiety & how scared he looked and then I just cried out of pure frustration and anger.  I was mad at him, even though I knew I shouldn't be.  It took me a long time to calm down and I knew right then and there we needed to start OT up again and start revisiting past therapies.    As a parent I feel so sad for him, yet it is so incredibly frustrating some times.