*This essay was written by my son, Christopher, and edited by me. He tells the story behind our book, which is now available on Amazon. The book was his graduation capstone project.
I was lying on the floor beneath our dining room table, beating my fists against the floor and screaming my head off. I had just thrown myself out of my chair in a fit of anger. I was seven years old.
How could I have told anyone that my mom’s helper should not have taken a little bite out of the apple pie I was going to eat? I knew I shouldn’t be so angry about someone taking a bite of my apple pie. But I had so much anxiety about it that I couldn’t control my feelings. Instead, they just kept amplifying until I exploded. The worst part was that I couldn’t tell people when I was getting upset—and then more upset—until it was too late.