My daughter's silence is speaking volumes: What will I do?

There are few things that cause me more distress as a parent than knowing there is something bothering my child which they won't explain to me.

I once came across something which resonated with me long before I ever had children, but since welcoming my four I realise how true it actually is.

“You're only ever as happy as your unhappiest child,” read the open page of a magazine in a dentist's waiting room almost twenty years ago now.

Understanding it in theory, I often reflected on the saying and wondered to what extent it would apply to me when I became a mum, but nothing prepared me for the sheer accuracy of the idea.

Something is bothering Rebecca and no matter how much I remind her that any problem can be solved and no issue is as enormous as she's made it in her head, she refuses to open up.

Sullen, uncommunicative and wearing a permanent expression of worry, my 14-year-old daughter personifies anxiety and despair, and I don't know how to help.

She insists I'm not in a position to help, so I asked if she would like to speak to anyone else in our family about it before reminding her of the numerous other adults in her life who would be more than happy to lend an ear.

“It doesn't have to be me Bex if you don't want it to be,” I gently reminded her. “What about your dad or Aunty Cath?”

“No one can help. And I don't need it anyway,” she insisted.”I just want to be left alone.”

Watching my normally ebullient daughter wither before my eyes and shuffle around the house like a wounded puppy is breaking my heart, but I'm frightened if I keep pushing I will destory any chance of her ever opening up to me again.

I've suggested putting it down on paper if saying the words seemed too difficult and I've told her that there's nothing she can reveal that will change how much I love her or how simple it will be to help, but she retreated even further.

From friendship struggles and exam worries to pregnancy scares and bullying concerns, I have considered everything and am no closer to the truth.

I don't know what to do, but Rebecca's heartache is mine and if I'm struggling this much, I can't bear to think what it's doing to her.