Anxiety

Anxiety Update – Back with a Vengeance

I don’t want to write about this but I should because sometimes a step back means taking a leap forward. I hoped that my previous post about anxiety would be my last. I truly believed that I had gained control over it, that I would never have to deal with the severe heart palpitations, nausea, aches and pains, headaches, and panic attacks again. I didn’t have the slightest inkling that it would come back, that I would need to take my medication again. I believed with every ounce of my being that I wouldn’t sit at my desk and have to feel like I was drowning, gasping for air.

Oh, how wrong I was.

A few weeks ago my mom noticed a change in my attitude and I noticed the small signs of my anxiety coming back. It happened slowly, a few sleepless night, the dread of looming Mondays, and a shorter temper. Then suddenly I was over the edge. I became filled with fear and worries. My anxiety wrapping its arms around me like an old friend. I tried my breathing exercises, repeating my mantras, and working out more but to no avail. After yet another panic attack and a conversation with my husband and mom, I decided it would be best if I went back on my anxiety medication.

What I am now trying to figure out is what my trigger is. Why did it come back? How come I could keep it at bay for months and then it returns with a vengeance?

Anxiety Update

What most people don’t tell you about anxiety is that even when you’re on medication it never fully disappears. It still lives within you, taking up space in your heart and your mind. It moves in and hibernates until something doesn’t go as planned, work is busy, or you get into a fight with your significant other. The medication tames it, it helps you sleep, it keeps your bowels regular (okay that’s just a weird side-effect that I didn’t mind), it calms you. It helped me get through a really draining year, it saved me.

As medication affects everyone differently, I must admit that there were a few things I did not like about it. The constant fatigue was one, the other was the numbing of my emotions. I would feel happy but not quite so, I’d feel sad but the tears wouldn’t flow, I’d feel anxious but it didn’t overwhelm me, and a very large piece of me missed my overly emotional emotions. Words became stuck somewhere between my head and my heart and I had difficult time both writing and speaking my mind. If I couldn’t write (or write well) than was I really me?

There came a point just after our wedding when I misplaced my medication. Although I found it a few days later I decided not to take it anymore. I took the alarm off my phone and placed the pills in my cupboard. I decided that since I no longer had wedding planning harboring over me and I was finally (FINALLY) getting good at my day job, I would try to continue my life medication-free.

I’m not sure how long this will last but I am taking every moment and every stress-filled week one step at a time. I am taking all of the tools my friends, cousins, colleagues, and parents taught me and putting them to use.

It’s not so much about numbing my feelings, it’s about controlling my anxiety.

“Worrying is carrying tomorrow’s load with today’s strength- carrying two days at once. It is moving into tomorrow ahead of time. Worrying doesn’t empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.” ― Corrie ten Boom

She Counts

She counts on people. Counts the days until Friday; the minutes until five o’clock. She counts on the flowers to grow and the seasons to change. She counts on consistency and perfection. She counts on time to be good to her, to not disappoint.
one.two.three.four.

She counts other things too; the swipes of deoterant she applies to her underarms, the number of times she’s pulled to door handle to ensure that it’s locked. The number of beeps her car makes when she presses the lock button – hearing it three times ensures safety and security. Her mind is a kindergarten classroom. Repetition keeps her head straight and focused; on the straight and narrow.

one. two. three. four.

She doesn’t remember when she began to count things or why it soothes a startling itch buried deep inside her. She knows that it gets worse when she’s stressed out, when there is something plaguing her mind and her heart. When she feels out of control.

one. two. three. four.

For a woman obsessed with words; she’s encountered so many numbers.

one.

two.

three.

four.