Anxiety, let’s call it what it is
At some point it is easier to stop fighting and embrace the chaos in your mind while ignoring any goals and dreams you may have once had.
As a child, I was an A student, overachiever and fairly good athlete. Looking back, I was the annoying kid who asked for more homework and was always getting my poems placed on the classroom walls. I enjoyed climbing trees, playing rough and pushing my boundaries. Looking at me from afar, you would never guess that I struggled with severe anxiety.
In first grade, my class was taking a field trip to the local hospital and I cried and cried because I didn’t want to go. At that same time, a classmates mom was dying of cancer and I associated that with the hospital, which in my mind told me I needed to stay away. Furthermore, I would become easily frustrated when I couldn’t do something well. I hated gym class and would often pretend I had a headache to get out of it.
When I began playing softball, I sucked. I struck out nearly every time and would cry when I got up to bat. Ironically, my cousin was the coach and he was absolutely amazing. He kept working with me, as did my brother and my dad and by the end of the season, this crybaby was hitting grand slams. The grown up version of me sees this behavior as a tad over the top. Essentially, if I couldn’t do something well, I didn’t want to do it al all. A tad extremist, right? The pressure wasn’t from my parents, it was totally internal. I was absolutely creating a messed up roadmap for my own personal expectations.
Generalized Anxiety is a real thing
Generalized Anxiety Disorder – People with generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) display excessive anxiety or worry, most days for at least 6 months, about a number of things such as personal health, work, social interactions, and everyday routine life circumstances. The fear and anxiety can cause significant problems in areas of their life, such as social interactions, school, and work. – National Institute of Mental Health.
The irony is that the majority of things worried about fail to come to fruition. People who have never experienced excessive worrying will often tell us to just stop thinking about it. And therein lies the problem, we simply cannot. The more we try to not think about something, the harder it works to stay up front and personal in our thoughts.
Not all in your head
I remember always being tired as a child. A childhood friend once made the comment, “my dad thinks you sleep too much.” Little did anyone know how exhausting my mind was. What they also didn’t realize is that our household was very chaotic and when my parents were fighting, there was very little sleep in our home. I’m pretty sure we were all tired quite a bit of the time.
Physical manifestations of anxiety include:
- racing mind – thoughts that won’t stop.
- pounding heart
- racing heart
- feeling hot
- excessive sweating
- stomach problems
- emotional and psychical exhaustion
- multiple aches and pains
- unexplained symptoms with no underlying reason
- loss of appetite
- inability to catch your breathe
- inability to concentrate, or living in a fog.
This is a partial list as anxiety looks different on every person. Ironically, how you present can actually lead to more physical tests, which in turn increases your anxiety. While exact numbers are difficult to ascertain, it is estimated that 3.1 million people suffer from anxiety each year. The Anxiety and Depression Society of America also states that onset can be anytime between childhood and middle age. Hence, anyone can be diagnosed. The difference between exhibiting symptoms and received treatment is the ability to talk with a provider about your symptoms. Many people are unable or unwilling to do that.
Comorbidity leads to misdiagnosis
Conversely, many who seek treatment may be misdiagnosed. In addition, the comorbidity rate is unknown, however depression, panic disorders, and phobias often occurs simultaneously. As physical symptoms manifest, treatment may occur for the different symptoms, however often, that is just a bandaid on the overall problem. Once that physical symptom is taken care of, another will appear until the underlying issue is addressed.
However, I digress. There is enough information out in the World Wide Web to saturate your need for information. If you are reading this, you are more interested in my experience and my journey. It is in sharing that my wish is to provide you hope for your own experiences.
Give yourself Grace
Perhaps the one thing I have learned over this journey is to grant myself grace. I am my own worst enemy and can be terribly hard on myself when I spiral on this continuum. I am learning to stop, breathe, pray and move forward. Anxiety does not define me, nor does it define you. It takes courage to get up everyday and face your most critical thoughts. Love yourself, my friend. You are so much more than those thoughts lead you to think you are.
I’d love to hear your story. Email me @email@example.com and let’s give hope to others. Remember, we are stronger together.
Ugggg…what a fuckin nightmare. It is different for everyone, yet no one really understands what it is or where it comes from.
I have experienced anxiety since I was a little kid, however, I didn’t understand that was the underlying condition. I could (and still can) rationalize it away. Like most kids, I would be afraid of what was under my bed, or what could be lurking in my closet. However, I took it a step further and began to unplug every electronic device in my room, so a fire would not emerge. Futhermore, I would be afraid when my brother ate alone, because I didn’t want him to choke. Additionally, there were days I went without eating because I was sure I had a lump in my throat. It took the doctor telling me I was fine before I ate some real food (therapist friends, analyze that one, I have).
What you see is not what is happening
Perhaps the biggest and most creative thing I pulled off was the following: One day I was playing in our attic, (which also kind of became a toy room, as it was a small room off directly off of my bedroom)…I discovered we had rat poison in there and I freaked out. From that point on, I would not touch anything from the attic as I associated it with that poison and was terrified I would become poisoned. I associated the rat poison with harm to my own person.
Eventually, this manifested into me my touching my food and I even made a game at the school lunch table…I wanted to see who could eat without touching their food. I can’t remember how long this went on, but even as an adult, I can remember how strong those feelings were and how I was sure something bad would happen if I couldn’t control my surroundings. Side-note: I am pretty sure I never stepped foot in in that attic again.
Often, anxiety stems from a lack of control of your world. It’s no secret that life is chaotic and as a child who needed structure, I began to internalize my anxiety, often leading to racing thoughts and dysfunctional though patterns. I would begin to doubt my worthiness, or I would begin to exhibit Obsessive Compulsive Disorder behaviors. I wondered why God didn’t love me enough to protect me from the things that were happening around me.
As I grew into a teenager, those OCD behaviors manifested. I would draw crosses on my homework, or I would feel the need to avoid certain foods, drinks, or places for fear of something bad happening to me. Little did I understand that I was creating my own little world of negative thinking and fearfulness.
I was typically home alone from the time I got home from school (when I attended) to when I went to bed, leading me to be terrified of something happening. To ensure I would know if anyone ever entered my home and to feed into my OCD, I would place all of our throw rugs a certain way. If they had been moved, I would know someone had entered my home. I remember one day I arrived home from work and saw the first rug scattered by the front door…as I walked trepidisciously through the large, two story home, each rug was moved…I was so fricken terrified that I ran out the front door, only to discover, my best friends parked down the street laughing at me.
I knew my brain was wired differently, I just didn’t know how to handle it. I did the best I could to control those thoughts, but it was exhausting. This once A student and pretty good athlete began to fail classes and lose interest in sports. I began to self medicate with alcohol as it would numb my senses. I slept more. The cycle began and contrary to my own interference, the guilt, self loathing and anxiety continued to increase.
Looking back, the adult me wants to hug the child me so tightly that little me understands she is not alone. This was during a time period when my parents were either working or not home and my brother was trying to figure out his next chapter. I was the lost child. The one that drifted just under the radar and did enough positive things to walk the line. I needed help, but even I couldn’t recognize that, nor could I ask for it. And when I did, or when it was offered, I was not the easiest patient to work with.
Anxiety looks different in everyone
The grown up me looks back and recognizes my delinquent behavior for what it was…anxiety and depression. I was begging for attention, regardless of positive or negative. My interactions with adults were minimal, as my dad worked nights and I didn’t live with my mom. My teachers saw very little of me, as I only attended school sporadically. When I was there, I was apathetic and/or disrespectful.
There is a saying “All it takes is one person to believe in a child for them to be successful.” Fortunately for me, I had a teacher and an associate principal who both saw past my emotional walls and believed in me. I pushed them away and I definitely tried to maintain my boundaries, but they prevailed, and because of them, I did graduate from high school.
Adult versus child perceptions
Conversely, the other thing the grown up in me can see is that my parents were doing the best they could do. Divorce is devastating for all involved, no matter what steps brought a family to separate (I could write another piece on this). We can question the why’s and the why nots, but at the end of the day, we can’t change anything. It’s really fuckin hard to parent when you are struggling to take care of yourself, trust me, I know this for a fact.
Grant yourself GRACE, my friend. I am.
just call me, anxiety girl
Trigger Warning, includes death
Seriously, this is one of the most difficult blog posts I have written. I have been thinking of it for some time and just have not been able to bring myself to actually articulate the words, let alone type them. However, this pandemic is seriously making me face some tough truths, none of which are exactly comfortable to acknowledge, especially when it comes to death.
I imagine the majority of you are being hit hard in at least one area of your life right now. Whether it be financially, physically, or within a relationship, none of us could ever have prepared for what our world would look like at this very moment. I can’t imagine any of us would have predicted this reality when the world shut down in March of 2020.
There are times when death sneaks up on us without warning. That was the case with my brother a few years back. Honestly, out of all of the people in my life, I truly thought he would be the one to outlive us all. He didn’t. Ironically, he had made plans ago meet us that next week. No one could have predicted his untimely and unexpected passing.
Other times you have warning. For instance, we knew my mom was ill, we just didn’t realize exactly how far she had declined. The last day we talked, I received a call a short time later, saying she was declining and she wanted me to make a decision about her being vented. I was so taken aback, after all, I had just chatted with her a few hours before. To this day, I remember hearing her in the background and begging me to help her make this decision.
So I asked if she was ready. She was changing her original decision of not prolonging her life (which is not uncommon). Than I asked who her Power of Attorney was (POA) and was told it was me.
Keep in mind, this conversation as taking place in front of my boys’ school, as I picked them up for the day. I briefly remember asking one of my friends to take the boys until I completed the phone call. After all, illness doesn’t occur when it’s a convenient time.
She went on the vent
I knew from the moment she went on the vent that she would not come back to us. She was depressed, she was lonely and her body was failing. As her POA, I received countless updates and had unlimited decisions to make on her behalf throughout the next three days.
None of it was easy.
The only thing that was keeping her alive were medical interventions. I arrived three days later and on the drive, I received a panicked phone call from family, telling me she was declining fast. Consequently, I was unsure if I would reach the hospital before she passed away. With the help of my sister in law and my dad, I arrived at the hospital and incidentally, I had totally forgotten how to get there, even though that was my hometown.
Those last moments
It isn’t a secret that my mom and I had an adversarial relationship, but she was my mom. She gave birth to me. She fought her demons, but don’t we all? I wasn’t sure what to expect when I arrived, but for hours, my aunt, uncle and cousin and I sat around and told silly stories, which I am sure my mom listened to. While it was a shitty time to visit, we actually had a few laughs.
Then they all left and it was just me and mom. I pulled up a chair and sat by her bed and as the minutes ticked by, I watched her heart rate become sporadic. Her heart rate would dip and skip beats, before getting back into a rhythm. I watched her hands and feet turn dark. As medical personal stopped in to check on both of us, I sat in awe of her body shutting down.
I held her hand and played music that I haven’t listened to in year, cracking bad jokes because that’s what I do when I am uncomfortable. Of note, other than being with my pets when it was their time, I had never witnessed another living being shut down. It was painful. It was emotional, and it was so final.
A decision needed to be made
The next morning, I felt compelled to make a decision I did NOT want to make. However, watching her struggle was unfair and she had declared me as her decision maker. When I talked to the nurse, she knew enough about impending death that she told me it would be soon; as mom was already fading away from us.
I made the calls and together with my aunt, cousin and family friend, we gave her permission to go. And as her heart rate faded away, we said our final goodbyes. There were so many mixed emotions at that time because while we knew it was in her best interest, it was so incredibly final.
My mom’s passing never quite goes away. Being with someone as they pass is both a privilege and a curse as it is beautiful and painful. My consciousness understand that she is no longer in pain and she is reunited with loved ones who were already gone, but my heart still holds on. It’s the what if’s that are haunting.
Covid 19 robs our current society of the ability to be with a loved one when that time comes. Our loved ones are forced to die alone, or with caretaker who are hidden behind protective gear. They don’t have someone there to guide them into the next life, nor can they hear the words of their family and friends, telling them it is ok to go.
Covid 19 is a cruel their who is robbing us of what makes us humans…the ability to touch, to psychically connect and to provide comfort when it is most needed. My heart is breaking for the patients who have or will succumb and the staff members who do their best to accommodate their needs.
For once, I have no advice or motivational words. This just fuckin sucks.Take care of you, my friend.
The Lion King
Remember watching the movie and listen to the song, “The Circle of Life” and the celebration that ensued with the birth of the baby? And who didn’t cry with Simba’s father died? I know I am a bawling mess every time I watch that show. there is a part of me that wishes real life was more like cartoons though, as they seem to quickly move through those tough emotions.
In real life, those emotions don’t move that quickly. They ebb and flow, allowing us to feel focused one moment and utterly drowning the next. believe me, I understand why Simba disappeared into the unknown to be alone and refused to come back to what he knew. There are so many emotions vying for control. Guilt, grief, anger, sadness, joy and then they all start to mess together until we are not sure what we feel anymore.
Four years ago we unexpectedly lost my brother. I am still grieving and sometimes that hurt hits as and feels as though I have been gut punched. In the time following, our family lost a well loved minister, two beloved uncles and my mother’s partner. Last year my mom passed. Additionally, my immediate family lost two loving dogs, which also sucked.
For four years, I have been on the fuckin roller coaster of living and loving and crying and grieving. There have been times where I have been truly paralyzed by grief and there have been other times where my motivation to live was overpowering.
Grief doesn’t come with a handbook (ok, maybe a guidebook)…but one size does not fit all. For me, as I struggled, being a mom was my foremost goal and I while I wanted to keep a sense of security for my kids, I knew there were days that I just wasn’t present. Putting a smile on my face while talking to my loved ones about their own losses was so terribly hard. Keeping the consistency of a somewhat schedule and getting the kids where they needed to go kept me focused for short periods of time.
June has some tough anniversaries for my family. First my brother and more recently, we had our mom’s first anniversary of her death. Sometimes I think the anticipation of the anniversary can be worse than going through the day itself. Honestly, I suck at remembering anniversaries but my mind and body seem to know what’s going on, even when I don’t.
The best unsolicited advice I can give anyone reading this is the following. “be gentle with yourself”. Grief can come in like a fricken hurricane, go into a wave pool and return to a level five storm before we even know what we are dealing with. I now there were so many times I was figuratively getting ready to dip a toe into the water and BOOM, I was fricken sinking into the deep end.
It’s time to live
I know one thing. My brother would be irritated with me for not stepping up and taking life by the wings. He was a live in the moment type of guy and I remember him always falling asleep in his recliner because he ran himself ragged. While my mom’s body just wore out. She never recovered from the death of my brother, and especially the death of her other half, Ray.
She was done and her body was done. Thus the circle of life was complete.
Both of them taught me that life is meant to live. So challenge yourself today to take a new route. Step out of your comfort zone. Share those compliments you keep in your head. After all, sometimes tomorrow never comes…and what will your legacy be?
You Are Always So Positive
A friend recently reached out to me for some support and in her opening sentence, she stated “you are always so positive”. I took a breath and told her that I am really not always positive.
And I really am not.
The positive posts I make on social media are often those that resonate with where I am in my own emotional health. My hope is that if I can get a positive feeling from them that others may also. I work hard on feeding my mind positive affirmations so that they may take hold of my anxious thoughts.
I have doubts
Self disclosure…I have always had low self esteem. Well, that’s not entirely true. As a child, I believed I could do anything and be anything that I wanted. I excelled at school, creative writing and sports. However, I did struggle from severe anxiety. Even as I excelled, I went to bed so fearful of our house having a fire, that I would unplug every appliance that I could. I would be afraid to leave my brother alone in case he chocked while he was eating. The thoughts were exhausting, yet I excelled at school, so know one would ever know.
I still have doubts
As an adult, I have always struggled with the comparison game. Looks, talent, parenting…the competition is always there and I work hard on telling it to get the fuck out of here. As a woman, I know how debilitating the comparison game can be. Today, I can literally feel how damaging that stupid game is. I admit I am blessed that God changed my thinking and taught me to lift others up. Thee is room for all of us in this crazy world.
I truly believe that many of us are doing the best we can and by tearing others down, we are also revealing the deepest and darkest parts of ourselves that we keep hidden. Being an asshole does nothing but let other’s know we are focused on the wrong parts of ourselves.
The struggle is real
“Be kind, because everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about” is my favorite quote. I have it on my wall and I focus on it regularly because it reminds me that we cannot see what’s happening behind the shy smile of the new mom. We tend to judge the stony faced woman and make an assumption that she thinks she is better than we are. When is reality, she is terrified to be in a public place with no friends for support
We admire the strong muscles of the woman working out next to us and have no idea that she has struggled with body image since the age of ten. We look at the artist who is standing at her gallery with a huge smile, not knowing she is terrified of being judged.
We watch the mom carry her screaming toddler out of the store and immediately think she needs to get control of that kid (this one was me). In reality, all we needed was another mom to share the understanding…seriously, we have all been there.
I work out in order to give that energy somewhere positive to go. I continually refocus my thoughts and remind myself that I am worthy of being happy. It is the reason I need to spend alone time after a large gathering, or I may not accept an invitiation. Trust me, I want friends and I want to be invited. However, sometimes I let those crazy ass thoughts overpower me and I just retreat.
So, am I always so positive?
NOPE. Negative. Not even close.
But I am a work in progress and I believe we are stronger together in this battle. To my tribe that continually lifts me up, thank you. I love you more than you will ever know and thank you for sharing your light with me.
How often do you look into the mirror and instantly regret doing it?
What do you see?
How do you honestly see yourself?
Are you focusing on the stretch marks, the sagging boobs and the newly formed wrinkles? I ask, because sometimes that’s exactly what I see. However, on other occasions, I see the strength of a woman who has experienced multiple pregnancies, incredible weight gains and losses and survived multiple surgeries.
I see sagging and dimpled skin and I wonder when those bags underneath my eyes became permanent. WTF, right? When did my boobs decide to move south and not send a forwarding address? And the hormone changes? I dont’ care who you are, that added fluff to the middle is NOT welcome.
You are more than a reflection
What happens when the person in the mirror actually smiles back at you? Do you acknowldege the twinkle in th eye or the genuiness of the wink? How about you see past the reflection and look into her eyes. I challenge you to do that and look deeper into her soul. Your physical body is absolutely your responsiblity and furthermore, so is what’s inside of you.
You are a reflection of how you feel. When you feel horrible about yourself, you will project negative statements about yoruself. Conversely, when you have fallen in love with who you are, you will welcome the wink from the person in the mirror. Ultimately, the choice is yours. You will NOT find love from others until you love youself.
It sounds like something out of the 1960’s. Self-love. Love thyself. But, HOW? I wrote a blogpost years ago about stopping those old tapes from playing over and over again. We are all programmed differently and that programming is based upon our life experiences. At some point, we personalized what someone told us and we took it to heart, ultimately believing it.
Therin lies the damage. To love yourself, you have to challenge those old tapes. You need to realize you are more than a physical body. People don’t love your for how you look (if they do, get rid of the superficial asshole). Other’s love you because of who you are, becuase of the energy you bring and how you make them feel.
So here is my challenge to you, my friend. Go stand in front of the mirror and tell those old tapes to “Shut the Fxxk up”. Take a lipstick or a window marker and write down what you love about yourself. I promise you that doing this over and over will make you more confident and an even better friend.
Let me know how it worked, I love a great transformation story!