Progress

It's almost 11:00pm on a wonderful Sunday evening. Just wrapped up watching StarGate, the movie with the fam and now getting ready to snuggle down and fall asleep to (you guessed it!) StarGate SG-1. Hah!

As I sat there watching the movie, I wondered to myself if I would have the gutz to walk through the StarGate. Honestly, I'm not so sure if I would. Today we went to Armstrong Woods with the intent on hiking one of the trails. I haven't done this is over a year and honestly the thought about being out in nature, a good amount of distance from my home, was making me feel more than uncomfortable. When I mentioned to Jess that I'm not feeling much for going on a big hike, he let out a sigh of relief and said he wasn't up to it, either. Good, I thought, 'cause I wasn't sure how well I was going to handle it. So, to answer my question, if I were given the chance to walk through the StarGate today, I would not do it. Right now, my sense of adventure and discovery is clouded with the fog of my anxiety disorder. Best to wait for the fog to lift.

And it's not that these foggy days are taking over my life, infact I've experienced more sunny days than not. However, sometimes it's hard to "roll with the fog", so to speak. I'm still looking deep to try and figure out how I got this way. I've summed it up like this: according to all the pros on Generalized Anxiety Disorder, the onset of the anxiety began after a traumatic event that shook my emotional foundation; however, the stage was set, with a super high-stress lifestyle, including overloading myself with school work, extra activities and volunteer work, leaving little to no time for myself, and even my family. So my brain did what it had to, by shutting me down. Now, I still believe I made it worse when I started investing a "cure" in medications and started on those. I know, now, what I need to do to get better.

So how do I do that? Well, for the longest time, I had no hope because even though I was consistently exposing myself to anxious situations, I lacked a sensation of relief when I accomplished my goal. Lately, however, I've had tremendous progress, especially when I face my fear and go forward. Today was an exception, because I felt like I hadn't pushed myself because we did not go on the hike, so internally, I wouldn't allow myself the satisfaction of feeling accomplished. Yeah, I know. I'm working on it. But I do remember feeling better after we went to the DMV last week, and that was a HUGE amount of stress; it felt so good getting it done and over with, walking out of there intact, and moving on with my life. I've given myself permission to ask for help, ie. have Jesse come with me. I think, in a way, this is designed to bring us closer together, or some bullshit like that.

The point is now I've made so much progress that even my perfectionist-self cannot deny it. I still have my moments/days when I feel like it's the end of the world/I'm overloaded/overstimulated/never going to get better. But I have this great arsenal of tools at my disclosure. My recovery includes going to Al Anon meetings, seeing my counselor, expressing my feelings openly with those around me, eating right, exercising daily, enjoying something (ie going to the river, sewing, reading, etc.), spending quality time with my children, deep breathing, meditating, journaling, blogging, and when I can-exposing myself to anxiety-inducing situations. I'm on my way, and even in this moment of anxiety, I'm feeling awfully optimistic and empowered.

Reassurance

The daily struggles with anxiety can leave a person feeling heavy hearted and sometimes very hopeless. I struggle and battle and succeed and accept anxiety on a daily basis and have been for the past 10 months. There has not been one day in those 10 months that I haven't experienced anxiety, even for just a minute, and I've often thrown myself into the investigatory role, seeking the answers to "why?". Yesterday and today are no different. Anxiety existed, but it wasn't at the forefront of my day. I carried on as normally as I possibly could, completing my goals and tasks for the day. Then, like an animal run out into the road, it was there, and it startled me. The adrenaline continues to resonate, as it did last night and now into this morning.

And quite literally, an animal DID cross my path as I drove, and as I did before, I slammed on the brakes. The opossum stayed put in the middle of the road as my car drove over it, not touching it, sparing it from death. I stopped, dreading that I had killed another innocent animal, only to see it's dark shadow continue across the road. What strikes me as odd with this is I had described the anxiety hitting me as though an animal had suddenly crossed my path. Is this a message? Or just a chance occurrence? I don't know, and I'm tired of speculating.

So I wonder, what caused this animal to cross my path?? What caused anxiety to cross my path?? I think the answer is nothing, it just happens. What reassures me is that there IS no reason, now, because for so long I sought for an answers to only learn that the answer is EVERYTHING. Everything in my life has caused my anxiety to do what it is doing. Everything from over-committing myself to the fights with Jesse to how I ate to the traumas I experienced as a child. Everything is responsible, so now it's time to start the change. I've made efforts in the past, but as usual we gracefully fall back into place of habit and comfort.

My reassurance is I KNOW I won't stay like this forever, although it may be a long long time. I'm not one to just accept that it's my destiny to fear everything and be stuck, in fact most of my frustration comes from how impatient I am with my recovery (a good sign, no?). And while everyday DOES have two handles (faith and anxiety), I am keen to picking up my day by both handles. I have faith in the Universe that I am capable of getting through whatever get's thrown at me. I carry anxiety so it doesn't carry me.

So for today, on this gorgeous sunny, overwhelming-to-the-senses day, I'll take the anxiety as it comes and embrace it. I'll practice my tools for when it gets tough, and I'll still come out of this day alive and well, just like I have for the past 10 months.

Wasted

If there were ever a thing that I get belligerent on, it's my emotions. My raw, irrational, uncompromising emotions. So much of my life and energy is wasted on this substance; My emotions tear apart my foundations of sanity, they rip my family away from me, they make the ground disappear, they put out the light. And yet, I reach for the bottle every. single. time.

Friday was a big day for me. The first book signing: a phenomenal event. And what did I do? First thing in the morning, I reached for my bottle of "Get Anxious to the Point of Insanity" and took a BIG swig. It hit my head so fast, it took my heart a few beats to catch up, then it was up-and-at-'em with the adrenaline rush. What was I afraid of? I was afraid of the crowd, the faces looking at me, how I was going to feel, what I was going to say, if Jesse was going to have an emotional breakdown. Holy bejeebuz! The list was ongoing. Did any of my fears come to fruition? None but one came to be, and even then, it was a delayed response. Fortunately, I was wise enough to know that I might be having a bit of an issue with such a large, stressful event: I schedule my therapy session the morning of. GENIUS!!! My therapist saw how tense and scared I was and had me close my eyes and walked me through the evening to come, in what's known as "guided relaxation". I haven't felt that relaxed in MONTHS! It was gone! Holy smokes! I'm not dysfunctional! The crappy feelings of fear and hopelessness and wants of ending it all went away! And STAYED away!

Three things I learned that day that I keep in my head to throw in the face of anxiety:

1. It's JUST a Thought. Thoughts are irrational and impulsive and they are designed to come and go. That's WHY we can meditate, that's WHY not all of us are psychopaths (they're the ones who LISTEN to every. single. thought.). So I envisioned my thoughts coming up like clouds, or even storms when they're the nasty ones; but in the end, every cloud goes away, carried by the wind, and just as every thought does, too.

2. A Mental Hospital would turn me away. This has been a big one for me. I've had this terror of ending up in a mental hospital from all this anxiety. It took voicing this to her to finally get that I'd have to be running down Main Street naked, batshit crazy for them to even consider MAYBE I might need to be placed on a waiting list for some outpatient therapy...NEVER ending up in a mental hospital. And in fact, as she puts it, every person she's ever heard express that fear has NEVER ended up in one; it's the ones who don't know they need to be there that end up there (most times, at least).

3. Stress is the #1 Cause of ALL. THIS. SHIT. I'm sitting in my chair, tears rolling down my cheeks, and I'm expressing to her that I'm scared I'll be this way forever. She then instructs me to tell her what I do in one week. So I did, and here it is:

-Work x2 week with a MOUNTAIN of responsibilities (I've come to realize that this is the 5th Child)

-Home, continuously; ongoing marital problems + child rearing issues + animals and house responsibilities + bills = #1 Stressor

-School x2 week, consisting of 10.5 units (which I one handled like nothing before), which recently includes having to orchestrate a 1.5 minute dance, lead a group that is presenting a chapter to a class, finish a photographic project that I feel ZERO passion for, not to mention the financial burden that is still required in needing to buy mats for my final portfolio and more photo paper, and then a final paper on California Government for the elusive online class.

After reciting these lists to her, and by the look on her face, we determined together that my anxiety levels peak when I'm pushed against a wall with responsibilities.

Now, this got me to thinkin'. While the blow-out between Jess and I was paramount to the development of the extreme anxiety, I am now starting to see how the signs were present in the twilight of the event. I recall being anxious about going to SF for a festival, two weeks before, then feeling the pressure about the book deadline, three weeks before; the feelings of dread and hopelessness because I had recently come to the conclusion that ASL Interpreter was not for me, therefore leaving me with no career direction; also not to mention it was the first time we were enrolled in Summer School (BAD idea!); Jess and I were constantly fighting about his alcohol consumption and my constantly having projects. It's no wonder it didn't happen any sooner; I REALLY wasn't taking care of myself, which translated to I wasn't taking care of my family. Work was suffering, school was suffering, my homelife was suffering...I was wasting away by being wasted on my addictions: keeping busy to avoid thinking about everything that I'm faced with now.

Well now I'm paying the price, and I have to remember this. I. am. paying. the. price. Tonight, Jess and I sat down to figure out what our class schedules are for finals week. And, not to my surprise but DEFINITELY to my objection, our finals are on different days, which translates to us traveling to SR at different times, which automatically figured in my head as a recipe for disaster. I've convinced myself along the way that I'm too unstable and unready to drive myself to Santa Rosa, without anybody. Although I have done this before, it was a few months ago and I was REELING from anxiety even after it was done and over with. YIKES! The point is, thought, my immediate reaction was, "I can't do it. It's too hard for me to do. I'll have anxiety. I won't make it. I'll freak out in the car. I'll freak out at school. I'll crash the car from freaking out. I'll be too scared to move. I'm not safe if I'm alone." Soooo....see how damaging believing in irrational thoughts can be? At this moment, I'm feeling a pretty good amount of anxiety, not only over this, but now the anticipation of the weeks to come leading up to the event. Oh boy...I don't even give myself a chance to get it right!

There's this part of me that's strong, though, and it's reaching to everything that I know and everything that I've learned while recovering from this garbage. This part of me wants to sit down, meditate, guide myself through the experience, learn to live with the anxiety, be one with it and let it GO! I can hang on for another year. I can hang on for five years! As long as there's an end in sight, I can do this for as long as I need to, as long as I get out of it as ME, in this life. This obsessive behavior doesn't help anything; if it's all I ever think about, then no wonder it's all I ever feel. I sometimes wish there were something physically wrong with me, so that I had something solid to blame: but I don't, 'cause there IS no cause to it. It's. in. my. head. Always has been, always will be. Just got to remember to breath, recognize that they're just thoughts (and everybody has them), let them go and MOVE ON.