Anxiety Ruined My Sleepover — here’s how to stop it ruining yours.
By: Elizabeth Wright
Tags: Friendship, Life, Mental Health, Psychology, Anxiety

Popping my head over the edge of my bed I gave my friend Missy a smile. She was laying on the mattress that we had dragged off the day bed in the living room. It was now situated on my bedroom floor, next to my bed. Mum had made it up all nice and cosy for her — white downy sheets, pink and green blankets and extra fluffy pillows.

It was the first time I had ever invited a school friend over for a sleep over. To say I was excited is an understatement. Missy was one of the most popular, most confident girls in school (keeping in mind we were 6 years old at the time). The fact that she had come to my place for a sleepover was awesome.

We had had the best afternoon, playing in the pool and the backyard. In the evening mum had ordered pizza for us and we guzzled enough Creaming Soda to keep us wired for hours. And that is where we found ourselves as mum tucked us in and shut the door behind her on the way out. Sugar happily buzzing through our veins.

We were unable to settle.

I felt so contentedly happy. As I popped my head over the edge of my bed to give Missy a smile though, the expression on her face was anything but happy. Missy, with her wavy brown hair and Bambi like brown eyes, was crying. Her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably. Eventually she sobbed out that she wanted to go home.

My 6 year old heart broke.

My friend didn’t want to stay over. I started crying. It became mayhem. Mum, hearing all the crying coming from my bedroom came running in, my dad close on her heels. As Missy cried out that she wanted her mum and her own bed, I couldn’t stop yammering that my friend wanted to leave me. Mum did what she had to do: she packed up Missy’s stuff and popped her in the car for dad to drive her home.

After Dad and Missy had left I sat with mum and asked her if Missy didn’t like me anymore. Mum explained that Missy still liked me, but she was just missing her mum too much to stay overnight. Mum explained to me that for all Missy’s confidence and pizazz for life, she had never slept over at a friend’s house before, and maybe, just maybe it had been a bit to much for her to do.

As a child I never really understood what mum was talking about. I just nodded my head, latching onto the nugget of information that Missy still wanted to be my friend. But as an adult and after experiencing my own anxiety, I can understand that Missy had had a panic attack. In fact, like Missy, you can be the most confident person in the world and in some situations still be overwhelmingly anxious.

Missy, at high school, became the most popular girl, she was an extreme example of an extrovert. Except for when it came to being away from home. This was her anxious no-go zone. Her taboo experience.

Her brick wall boundary.

Whereas me, I was and am your classic introvert. I felt anxiety speaking up in class and being the centre of attention. To much socialising turned me into Oscar the Grouch. I was that kid comfortable enough to play by themselves for hours.

Though at the same time I adored sleeping over at my friend’s places. The thought of playing with my friend’s toys (Kelly had the best Star Wars figurines, OMG!) and watching scary movies that my parent’s would never let me watch (Alex introduced me to Nightmare on Elm Street at the age of 10) was bliss.

Anxiety can never be stereotyped or boxed into specific personality traits. Anyone of us can experience it in any given situation. Even the most confident of us.

What exactly is anxiety though?