Persistance

When I read this passage this morning, I thought directly of the events of yesterday. It was the first day of Spring Semester, and I was already pretty nervous. But I made it through each class, and through each challenge, too. Our vehicle decided to have a malfunctioning thermostat, rendering us stranded 15 miles from school; but with the help of a friend, we were able to get there. The next biggest challenge was handling the stress and anxiety after a fight with the husband. I didn't used to get so emotional and pushed so close to the edge before, but as I reflected on yesterday's fight and my emotions, I realized just how addicted I am to conflicts and high-stress situations. Not to say that I, in general, purposefully created the fight, but I certainly didn't help stop it, and my actions helped fuel the fire that was ignited between us. So as I walked Santa Rosa Avenue with daughter in tow, searching for my husband who walked off just as we were to board the bus home, and all I could manage to do was to chant over and over "I'm going to be ok; I'm going to be ok." The urge to "lose it" was so prevalent in those 20 minutes of walking the strip, the only thought that was a guarantee for tears to flow was "I AM going to be like this the rest of my life!" But, hidden in the undercurrent of my personality, lies a girl who's VERY stubborn and not subject to defeat. All the while I'm doubting my ability to recover from this event, this girl's voice sang loud and clear, "Don't associate Santa Rosa, buses, or sunsets with this event. Everything is fine: it's just a fight. You two will work it out, your ego will mend, you are going to be fine. Be strong for your little girl. It will not be this way ALL semester; this isn't a sign from God to stop school." So needless to say, this little girl was right: we worked things out, came back together and got home safe and sound, albeit a bit traumatized. But I refused to allow it to continue in my head. We then decided to go for a family walk into town; let the poor pups stretch their legs and get some fresh air, and to go pick up the Monster Boy. We had a wonderful walk, with the fullmoon blasting it's beautiful, white light on us, blessing our family with its energy. As we walked the streets of downtown Guerneville, I purposefully exhaled each negative thought and feeling out of my body and inhaled the images of animal books in windows, the laughs of my children as they frolicked down the sidewalk, and the exchange of an unspoken love when running into a good friend. We made it home in one piece, and Jesse and I worked together on the car, trying to get it running again. Although we failed in that respect, we enjoyed each other's company and were able to forgive one another and move on.

A thought came to me yesterday after all was said and done. Let's say, for example, you have a cold because you are having the traditional symptoms of a cold. Does admitting you have a cold make it happen or if you denied having a cold, will the symptoms cease? Same with cancer or a genetic disorder. I think the latter two have a bit more exception merely because nobody WANTS to have those ailments, unless they're a hypochondriac. I applied this same school of thought to my anxiety and supposed "agoraphobia." When I first read about agoraphobia, my anxiety got worse, because I saw just how much work I had to do in order to be somewhat "normal" again. By acknowledging that I suffered from agoraphobia, did I inadvertently convince myself that there was something wrong with me and something that justified my unnecessary fears? The other side of the coin is by not admitting I am dealing with a phobia, am I denying my full potential to overcome it entirely? This thought crossed my mind a few months back, and since then, I have labeled myself an agoraphobe. Today, I've decided, I am no longer suffering from such an ailment if I chose not to, so why bother putting the label on myself? I fight the symptoms of agoraphobia everyday and have been successful everytime, and in fact lived my life anxiety-free for quite some time. I am not an agoraphobe because I DO leave my comfort zone on a daily basis, I do fine when my "safe-person" leaves my zone, and I can handle the stress in my life through relaxation and meditation. The twinge of anxiety continues to linger, but I've also refused to allow that to take over my life: I am strong and persistent enough to overcome this. And that's exactly what I'm doing.