The past several months have been hard on Evergreen.
There’s really no simple way to say that.
Five months ago, the shooting at the local high school left two students seriously injured and deeply impacted families across our community. More recently, another shooting occurred at a medical office here in town. In both cases, the individuals responsible ended their own lives.
Even when the news cycle moves on, the nervous system doesn’t.
Layer in an unusually dry winter, growing concern about fire season across the Colorado mountains, and a political climate that already feels tense for many families — and it’s not surprising that some teens are carrying more than they’re showing.
If your teen has seemed more irritable, more tired, more withdrawn — or even strangely unaffected — it makes sense.
That’s a lot for a developing nervous system to hold.
One of the most confusing parts of community trauma is timing.
Right after a crisis, most families shift into “get through it” mode. Parents focus on stability. Teens return to school. Schedules resume.
Adrenaline carries us for a while.
But when things settle externally, anxiety often surfaces internally.
In my work providing teen counseling in Evergreen and throughout Colorado via telehealth, I often see stress responses emerge months later. Not always dramatically. Sometimes subtly:
Trouble sleeping
Increased irritability
Loss of motivation
Headaches or stomachaches
Difficulty concentrating
A general sense of unease
Then when another incident happens — like the recent shooting — it can stir everything back up again.
The body keeps track.
That doesn’t mean your teen is fragile. It means their system has been on alert.
Teens rarely say, “I’m anxious.”
More often, anxiety shows up sideways:
Snapping over small things
Spending more time alone
Increased screen use
Complaining of physical symptoms
Avoiding school
Acting flat or emotionally numb
Saying “I don’t care” more often than usual
Adolescence is already an intense developmental stage. Their brains are still learning how to regulate strong emotion. When something disrupts their sense of safety — especially at school — it can sit in the body longer than we expect.
If nowhere feels fully predictable, the nervous system stays slightly braced.
Not panicked. Just braced.
And that takes energy.
In my work specializing in anxiety and shame, I often see something else emerge.
The anxiety itself isn’t always what keeps teens stuck.
It’s the shame about having anxiety.
Instead of:
“That scared me.”
It becomes:
“Why am I still bothered by this?”
Teens may think:
“It didn’t even happen directly to me.”
“Other people have it worse.”
“I should be over this by now.”
“Everyone else seems fine.”
Shame turns a very human stress response into a personal flaw.
In mountain communities like Evergreen — and throughout Colorado — resilience and self-reliance are valued. Those are strengths. But they can also make it harder for teens to admit when they’re struggling.
When anxiety gets layered with shame, teens often go quiet.
They try to handle it alone.
Living in the mountains means wildfire risk isn’t abstract.
When snowfall is low and everything feels dry, there’s often a quiet vigilance in the background.
Checking the forecast.
Thinking about evacuation plans.
Noticing how brittle the landscape looks.
Even without an active fire, that low-grade alertness uses energy.
Teens absorb that too.
Sometimes what looks like irritability is simply exhaustion from being subtly on guard for months.
This is the part that’s hardest for parents.
When your teen feels overwhelmed, it’s natural to want to fix it — or to feel pulled under by their distress.
But if they feel like they’re drowning emotionally, they don’t need you in the water with them.
They need you steady.
I often describe it this way: imagine your teen is in choppy water. Your job isn’t to jump in and thrash alongside them. It’s to stay in the rowboat — close, calm, grounded — and help guide them back toward safety.
When a parent becomes as panicked or flooded as their teen, the nervous system message becomes:
“This really is dangerous.”
But when a parent stays regulated — even while concerned — the message becomes:
“This is hard, and we can handle it.”
That doesn’t mean you suppress your feelings. It means you tend to them so you can respond instead of react.
It might look like:
Taking one breath before answering
Lowering your voice
Pausing instead of lecturing
Getting your own support so your teen doesn’t become your only outlet
There’s an old water safety rule: when someone is struggling, you don’t grab them in panic — because both people can go under. You offer something stable.
Emotionally, you are the stability.
And if you don’t feel steady right now, that makes sense too. Many parents in Evergreen are carrying their own stress from these past months.
Support for you matters as much as support for your teen.
You don’t need perfect words.
You need consistency.
Helpful steps include:
Keeping routines predictable
Limiting repeated exposure to violent or political media
Encouraging movement and time outdoors
Inviting conversation without forcing it
Normalizing delayed reactions
Instead of asking, “Are you okay?” you might try:
“I’ve been thinking about everything that’s happened in our community lately. I wonder what it’s been like for you.”
And then listen.
Even if the answer is, “I don’t know.”
Especially then.
If you notice:
Ongoing sleep disruption
Persistent withdrawal
Panic symptoms
Intrusive thoughts
Escalating self-criticism
Expressions of hopelessness
It may be helpful to reach out for professional support.
Early intervention can prevent anxiety from settling into longer-term patterns of avoidance or shame.
Mindfulness-based cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), which I use in my work with teens and young adults throughout Colorado, helps calm the nervous system, reduce rumination, and gently shift self-critical thinking.
Healing does not mean forgetting what happened.
It means your teen’s body no longer feels like it’s happening right now.
When things feel tense:
Take three slow breaths.
Press both feet into the floor.
Name five things you see.
Then quietly say: “Right now, we’re safe.”
It’s simple.
And simple, repeated signals of safety are how the nervous system recalibrates.
Evergreen is resilient. Colorado communities are resilient.
But resilience does not mean the absence of emotion.
If your teen seems different lately — even in subtle ways — it doesn’t mean something is wrong with them.
It may simply mean they’ve been carrying more than we realized.
And neither of you have to carry it alone.
P.O. Box 3283 Evergreen, CO. 80437
Providing online services to Evergreen, Conifer, Lakewood, Denver, Wheat Ridge, Boulder, Frisco, and throughout Colorado.