May 13, 2014

The Same Old Bedfellow

Anxiety has been my friend again, lately.

It’s sent me to the doctors twice in a week.

It made get another EKG and a holtor monitor.

It’s back to sucking the joy out of things that should be joyful.

It distracts me until I find it hard to function.

It frightens me until I cancel regular activities to appease it.

It corners me in a place where my biggest fears reside and it antagonizes me like it’s the Ghost of Christmas future or something.

And, I withdraw because somehow it seems natural.  I can’t explain it.  It’s like I’m a wounded animal trying to find some cavern or den into which I can retreat to lick my wounds until the storm passes.

There’s always a sign things are heading south.  I guess that’s the best thing about 18 months of therapy, I’m now able to spot the anxiety further out now so I can’t get as far down that particular rabbit hole.  That particular rabbit hole is dark and scary and crowded and uncomfortable and limiting.  It’s ruinous.

I chant the same things like a mantra “Everything’s fine.  I’m okay.  Take my meds.  It’s just my mind.  It’s just my awesome imagination.  What are the odds?  Everyone has this happen to them.  It’s normal.  It’s benign.  It’s nothing.”

I’m not an illogical person.  I am not.  Oh, sure, I still cling to that fanciful imagination I’ve always had and I think one of the things I love the most about myself is the root cause of a lot of panic/anxiety.  My imagination makes things so vivid and real and convincing that my logical mind doesn’t stand a chance.

Poor logical mind.  Poor logical Big Daddy.

Don’t think about it.  Stop thinking about!  Oh, but the more you try to stop the more you go.  You can’t slam on the brakes, no matter how hard you try. It’s demoralizing.  The panic breeds more panic and the cycle is harder to break the further it goes on.

THankfully, a few weeks have gone by and while I’m not yet 100%, I’m better enough to be able to hope the worst of this episode is behind me.

Tied Up 2 Replies to “The Same Old Bedfellow”


2 thoughts on “The Same Old Bedfellow

    Author’s gravatar

    Hang in there. Life is hard. Being a grown up is hard, being a parent is the hardest job there is. I think everyone struggles a little or a lot. I just wish women of the world could see that and be nothing but supportive of one another. We are all doing the absolute best we can giving it our all. Some days we feel we come up short some days not. There are beautiful reasons in the world that make us pick ourselves up and keep going. I love your blog in good times and bad times. You have great ideas that I love and you are also honest and seem like a real person here. There are enough bloggers that only show their perfection which makes the rest of us feel inadequate. We are all in this life together. Keep your head high and know how important you are to your family.

      Author’s gravatar

      Thank you so much. <3 I appreciate it more than you know.

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