Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Anxiety

So let's talk about my anxiety.

Oh, you didn't know? Maybe you just thought I was high strung (or high maintenance?) Which is probably true--but don't tell anyone I said that.

So let's go through the 5 W's (using that Journalism degree after all)! Who? Well, me, obviously. Not that I'm alone. My Mom's Mom, some friends, and if the Surgeon General is to be believed, 8% of the general population.

What? Didn't you read my first sentence? ;)- Anxiety, and to a lesser extent, depression. For me, it manifests in all sorts of ways. Ridiculous fears, like when my first daughter was an infant, and I was sure J and I would be murdered in our bed, and M would be in her crib screaming for help with no one to hear her. Or when I thought our plane would crash on our first vacation after M, and she would be left with no parents. My pregnancy with N is another great example--one u/s that showed a short femur, and I was convinced she had down syndrome. That made for an awesome 20 weeks of needless and harmful worry.

Where? Everywhere. It strikes me in unlikely places. A girls' night out, where it pokes its head in and takes a little wind out of my sails. Late at night, when I try to sleep without any medicinal help. Fun moments with my daughters, causing me to hold them a little tighter and blink back my tears. Driving, flying, sitting on the couch...my anxiety doesn't care. It comes along for the ride without invitation.

When? For as long as I can remember. Not that I KNEW what it was. I thought everyone "worried" like me. Until 18 months after M was born and it finally hit me that crying myself to sleep, finally too exhausted to stay awake any longer, wasn't OK. That maybe my level of worrying wasn't ever normal. The nights when I was 8, when I would work myself into a panic because I didn't fall asleep easily. The cheerleading tryouts that gave me hives. The worries were always overinflated, consuming, hard to push away. I can look back now and see how my anxiety has been a prevalent part of my life.

Why? Well it's simple from a straightforward point of view. The chemicals in my brain aren't balanced. From a philosophical, spiritual, "laws of the cosmos" point of view, it's far more complicated. As are all philosophical, spiritual, "laws of the cosmos" questions. I can say that my anxiety is a huge part of my emotions, my empathy, my fierce love for the people in my life. I wouldn't trade that. It's the gift of my anxiety. My openness allows me to share with others, and in my moments of ego, I think maybe that's my calling. Not to share with the world, but with those I come in contact in day to day life. To help my fellow mom, to help my friends who need to hear that no one has it all together...I share my experiences. I don't shy away, I don't worry how I'll be viewed for my admitted weakness. I share with anyone who wants to hear it, and probably with plenty of people who don't.

It never really goes away. I keep it under control a good portion of the time, now that I own it. Medicine and therapy are my tools, but they're not foolproof. I learned that the hard way, the first time my medicine stopped working, sending me into a full blown breakdown. A breakdown that blindsided my husband, my friends, my family, and honestly, me. I didn't know that my medicine could lose its effectiveness. Most doctors don't talk about that. Mine didn't, probably because I never asked. It's a lesson I can't unlearn, a lesson I'm actually thankful for, now that I've come out on the other side.

Now, with the amazing support of my husband, family, friends, and a therapist who's changed my life, I keep my anxiety and depression stifled. It's not fixed, and I've come to accept that for me, it never will be. So I fight it. I try to keep myself from getting complacent when I feel great, and strike a balance between being aware and being too aware.

Some days I'm more successful than others.

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