I can't stop blaming myself for my child's anxiety

For almost as long as my second oldest child can remember, there had been issues with her older brother.

Issues which required professional intervention, issues which caused untold upset and tension within our home, and issues which affected my daughter so greatly she became - what can only be described as - a bag of nerves.

Her brother battled desperately with low self-esteem from an early age, struggled considerably with adolescence and grappled on a daily basis with classroom politics, locker room banter and after-school jostling.

Despite being quite shy, my eldest child was incredibly popular throughout primary school, but the transition into secondary school affected him greatly and having suddenly found himself a small fish in a big pond, he withdrew from his peer group completely.

Frustrated by his inability to make new friends and upset by the apparently seamless way his primary school peers settleed into the hustle and bustle of secondary school life, my son waged a one-man-war on our family.

Sometimes sullen and uncommunicative, his moods would settled like a fog over our family home.

Other times, incredibly aggressive and belligerent, his temper would terrrify his younger sister and horrify both myself and his father.

Whie seeking help for our son, our second eldest child began fading into the background.

Making herself scarce during his outbursts to enrolling herself in after-school activities to avoid being at home, our daughter was suffering terrribly, but still much of our focus remained on our son who was constantly missing school and sinking into a black hole of depression.

Unsure what the atmosphere might be like at home, our daughter constantly made excuses for not allowing friends to pay after-school visits and, given the volatile nature of her brother's moods, she remained on high-alert that something – anything – could go wrong at any given time.

Knowing her brother's true worth, giving heart and incredible capabilities, my daughter never once blamed him for this period in our lives, but there is no doubt that these years cast a long shadow on her own childhood, achievements and anxiety levels.

Although her brother is now, with the help of both his school and therapist, through the worst of this time, the results of these years can be seen in my daughter's everyday approach to life.

If she finds a couple of missed calls from me, she'll phone me back breathlessly, barely daring to ask 'What's wrong?”

She'll send me a precautionary text message that her friend might come to our house incase anything is amiss at home and she needs to find an excuse to cancel the plans.

She foresees disaster at every turn and expresses reluctance to get excited over her brother's progress incase -as we have seen time and again – the progress comes to a long and juddering halt.

I blame myself for all of this and constantly wish I could have shielded her from her brother's worst times.

At my lowest moments, I apologise to her and try desperately to explain how I tried to juggle everything, but ultimately accept that she did get relegated to second place – something which breaks my heart to have to write.

Wise beyond her years, she jokes that the 'problem child' will always get the most attention and insists that me and her dad couldn't have done more for her, but I don't know how true this is.

When I think I may have finally escaped the guilt, I'll only have to hear her tearfully ask “Is something wrong?' when I happen to phone at an inopportune moment, and I realise it'll never fully be better and she'll never fully be free of her anxieties.