Now, in my adult years, married with two kids under my belt, I'm plagued with the same demon. My own mind. I understand her better now. Before I had children, the world was my plaything. I'd do just about anything once, more if I loved it. I even earned my advanced scuba diving license and jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. I wanted to travel the world, ride in a hot air balloon, explore mysterious jungle caves, dive at the Great Barrier Reef, and about 300 other things. When I became pregnant with my first child, I still thought I'd do all of those things. But the world became a terrifying place when the realization that I was in charge of a completely dependant life, that it turned out I loved more than life itself.
I still believe that one day, I'll do all those things I'd once dreamed of doing. They're just on hold for a little while. And while I'm okay with that, I understand that the anxiety I feel over those things, isn't really okay at all. It's very irrational. But I can't turn it off. My daughter started school this year, and the anxiety that filled me with, was overwhelming. I lost weight over it, that I didn't need to be losing. Sometimes, during a perfectly normal errand or routine activity, horribly disturbing things will pop into my head. Things that could be possible, happening right now at my daughter's school. Where is she at this moment? Is she being bullied? Can the teachers see her on the playground? Is there some mentally unstable person shooting up the playground?
And it's all downhill from there. The anxiety becomes crippling. My breath becomes short and shallow, I get dizzy, my heart races, the ground moves and I can't form full or rational thoughts to save my life. On the outside, you'd never be able to tell. That's the tricky thing about most mental disorders. And no matter how many times I tell myself that it's fine, that those things aren't happening, there's that demon whispering, but what it they are?
I think contributors to my anxiety have been horror movies, that I used to like before I had kids, and the news. The movies planted the seeds and the news watered them. I know the world is a horrible place, with evil lurking at every turn. I also know that there's good in the world. It can't be helped, that a parent would want to try and ensure that their children never meet with this evil. I don't mean that I want to protect them from everything. They're going to have troubles and trials, I know. And I know that's a good thing. I mean the pure evil. The kidnappings, the twisted bullying, terrorists, etc. Even comparing the odds of something like that happening, isn't good enough for my anxiety. If it's possible for someone else who never thought it would happen, it's possible for us. And nothing in the world is worth me chancing something like that.
I thank God everyday for blessing me with such a happy and outgoing little girl. It reassures me that even through my own issues, because no one is perfect, she's still thriving. I haven't screwed her up. Victory! For now. The other things that have contributed to my immense anxiety, are the judgemental Judy's out there. People get behind their little keyboards and are just awful to each other. Perfect strangers acting like no one else out there has a soul. They're so judgemental and nasty. With my horrible self esteem issues, it's hard to take attacks like that. Especially when there really is no reason for them. Another reason I turned off the comments to my blog, which is sad. What if there was someone out there, that maybe God sent my way, that could help me? But I'll never know, because in my mind, all I'll hear are negative things and get judged as f*ck. I'm already vulnerable enough as it is.
Recently, my husband cheated on me. I'm sure with the pouring out of my heart, it will seem obvious as to why. I'm all sorts of damaged, and I guess just too hard to love. I get it. But after that, my anxiety started getting out of control. The night he cheated on me he was supposed to be home before midnight, around ten. I woke up at almost two, and felt awful. Something was wrong, and my intuition was telling me so, before I ever even knew what time it was. When I realized it was morning, I was sure that something was wrong. My heart was racing and my stomach was sick. I called him, but he didn't answer. I called the shop where he said he'd be, and no one answered. The feeling I got then, is the feeling I live with constantly now. At every little thing, even when it's just my mind thinking of scenarios that will never happen. My heart starts to race and I feel sick.
I went to the doctor three days ago, and asked him to prescribe me something to help me to not have to feel like this anymore. I'm officially on Prozac. I'm hoping it will help, but am afraid if it doesn't. I'm also afraid that it might change the parts of me that sort of make me, me. I don't want it to change who I am, I just want it to help me not think that the world is about to implode at any second. Today is my third day taking the Prozac. He said it will take a couple of weeks to start working for my anxiety. For now all it's done is make me tired, and feel, weird. Just sort of, unexplainable. I feel different, but I'm still having anxiety, so I know it's doing something. Everything in my life just feels so uncertain right now.
I'll try to focus on the things I'm certain of. I love my children, and they're depending on me to get better, and be the best person I can be. I'm trying to take life one day at a time right now. It's so hard with so much going on in my mind so constantly! Also, fun fact; Blogging about my feelings and life makes me hate myself for some reason. I can't figure out why. Do I feel like I'm being whiny? Maybe I'm feeling towards myself the way I think other people will for knowing who I am and how I think. Maybe I just hate this anxiety ridden, no self confidence version of myself. I can't wait to see her go. Bye Felicia!
This is a great article, called How Girls With Anxiety Love Differently. The beginning describes what anxiety feels like, perfectly. It also describes how my dreams typically are, and strangely enough, almost describes one I had in high school, to a T. I hope that I won't always be this way though. I don't want to learn to live with it at all. I want it to go away foreevverrrr.
"You’re swimming in an ocean, and without notice or warning you begin slipping under the surface. You kick and kick, slowly losing your breath. You can’t breathe, but you keep kicking. No matter how hard you kick, how hard you try to scream, no one can hear you or help you. Your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen; you can’t reach the surface. You keep reaching toward the sunlight; you see the surface, but you can’t get there. You’re stuck 10 feet under. You’re without air; you're without your breath; you black out.
That’s anxiety. Anxiety consumes you; anxiety becomes you, and for hours you’re alone. You’re drowning, and no one can save you, no matter how loudly you yell.
As a result of constantly feeling like this, girls with anxiety have their guard up. We handle almost everything with worry, and we are on edge, wondering what will set off our anxiety next, and just like that, we're back feeling like we're in that ocean."
BUT, then I read this, Thin Slices of Anxiety, and while it's spot on, it tries to make light of anxiety My husband of course, paints it in a much darker light. I wonder if I hate myself because it feels like my husband hates me. Am I taking Prozac because I need it? Or because I have someone who can't help me through the struggles and only exacerbates my anxiety, who simply wants me to change myself?
