Parenting, Anxiety, and the Rollercoaster of Co-Parenting
It’s been a while since I’ve written a blog post. Honestly, I’ve been overwhelmed—between the nonprofit, parenting, and just trying to hold everything together, I haven’t had much energy left to sit down and write. But I’ve missed sharing, and maybe writing this out will help me breathe a little.
Chloe’s Anxiety and the Battle for Counseling
Well before April, Chloe started getting stomach aches at school. I’ve had my own struggles with anxiety, so I recognized the signs pretty quickly. I took her to her pediatrician, who asked her a few questions and then looked me in the eye and said: “She has moderate anxiety and moderate depression.”
Hearing those words about your child crushes you.
The pediatrician recommended counseling—strongly. But finding someone for a child her age in our area has been nearly impossible. No one is taking new patients, and when I finally thought we had something lined up through Headway, there were no appointment times that fit.
So we turned to online counseling with Grow Therapy. Chloe just had her first appointment, and it actually went really well. I think we might have found someone who can help. But here’s the kicker: Sly, her dad, canceled three of her past counseling appointments. Three. Even though it was her pediatrician and her former therapist who said she needs this. Why? Because narcissists thrive on control. They twist, manipulate, and sabotage—even when it comes to their own child’s mental health.
So I finally removed his access to her counseling portal. He still knows she’s going, but now he can’t interfere. He’ll still refuse to pay, of course, but that’s not going to stop me from getting her the help she needs.
School Supplies and Broken Promises
Every year, I’m the one who buys Chloe’s uniforms, supplies, and everything else she needs. Sly is supposed to reimburse me for half. He never does.
This year, I had everything ready—washed, folded, and in the car for orientation. But it was pouring rain, so instead of hauling it all in, I offered to drop it off later. Sly insisted he’d come by on Sunday. He even said it multiple times in front of Chloe.
Sunday came and went. No Sly. No text. Nothing.
By Tuesday—the day before school started—I still hadn’t heard from him. Chloe needed her shoes, uniforms, backpack, everything. I drove across town and dropped the stuff off where I knew they’d be. Sly was visibly angry when he saw me. Angry that I dared to make sure our child had what she needed. He was shaking so badly I couldn’t tell if it was rage or alcohol withdrawal. Maybe both.
But Chloe had her things. That’s what matters.
First Day of School Traditions
The first day of school is sacred to me. Chloe and I have our traditions—we meet at school, I give her a bracelet, and we hug before she walks in. She specifically asked me to be there this year at 7:30 sharp.
And I was.
But Sly tried to stop it. He drove past me, rolled her window down just a few inches, and refused to let her out until I begged. When I finally hugged her, she was so sad. She looked down, almost afraid to say anything in front of him. My daughter—afraid to show love to her mom in front of her dad.
Do you know what that does to a parent’s heart?
The Pattern That Never Changes
Summer break was “okay.” She got to do some fun things, but every time she comes back from his house, she’s sad. She’s constantly dragged around—from his girlfriend’s house, to my mother’s, to theme parks. Always on the go, never just being with her. He doesn’t spend quality time with her—at least not the kind she craves.
And the double standard cuts deep. He won’t let Chloe join cheerleading or do any extracurriculars on his time, but he’ll take his girlfriend’s kids to singing lessons and dance classes. Chloe notices. It hurts her. And he doesn’t care.
The truth is, he treats her the same way he treated me. He controls, isolates, dismisses her feelings, and makes sure everything is on his terms. She’s already told me she feels stuck, scared to ask him for even basic things like deodorant. She’s a child. She shouldn’t carry that fear.
Where I’m At
Some days, I feel like I’m screaming into a void. I can’t change him. I can’t protect her from everything. All I can do is show up, keep fighting for her, and remind her every single day that she is loved and worthy.
And if there’s one lesson I keep learning over and over, it’s this: when a narcissist is being “nice,” it’s because something ugly is coming. Always.
Chloe deserves better. She deserves stability, love, and the freedom to be herself without fear. That’s what I’m fighting for, no matter how exhausting it gets.
Resources for Parents in Similar Situations
If you’re reading this and you’re going through something similar, you’re not alone. Here are some resources that might help:
- Child Mind Institute: Anxiety in Children
- National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI): Kids, Teens and Young Adults
- Co-Parenting With a Narcissist (Psychology Today)
- OurFamilyWizard – A co-parenting app that helps keep communication documented and less toxic
- SAMHSA Helpline – 1-800-662-4357, a free, confidential helpline for mental health and substance abuse support
Thanks for reading this. Writing it out feels raw and heavy, but also freeing. I’ll keep sharing, because maybe it helps someone else out there who’s dealing with the same kind of manipulation and heartbreak. And if nothing else—it’s proof to myself that we’re surviving, one day at a time.


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