The Cost of Anxiety

Anxiety. Even the spelling and pronunciation of the word seems frenetic, as though it is in a rush to be said, thought, or seen. No one has ever said this word with a slow cadence.

My anxiety was a surprise. Or so I thought. Looking back on life before kids, if I was ever "nervous," it would hit me in the stomach and then my hands would shake or the occasional all over sweat would happen. I would practice deep breathing to calm myself. But I never called anxiety. I call it that now. It would happen over the oddest things such as: Walking into a grocery store, going to the movies, or anticipating an event.

After my daughter was born, I was diagnosed with Post Partum Depression. I started seeing a Therapist who helped me work through the post-partum depression and it was then that I had to confront my anxiety. Life with my mental illness came into being. I had a mental illness. I have a mental illness. It took my a long time to reconcile to this. I think, as people, we justify and justify again to avoid the unavoidable. We finagle, make excuses, and try to live a life that is a lie to avoid the realness that a mental illness diagnosis slaps you with.

After Ian was born, the anxiety became a shadowy hand. The hand would hold me under when I tried to sleep so I would awake in a blind panic, gasping breaths, reassuring myself that there was light coming through the window. That life was fine.

At dusk was when I was the worst... the hand of panic would enclose me, sending me to the door and my car, as if on auto pilot. A long drive at dusk always helped, listening to music with the windows down. My understanding husband would hand me my keys and tell me to come back when I was ready.

It was during these mini roadtrips that I was able to distance myself from the anxiety and see that my anxiety was costing me family time and making me doubt my abilities as a person. That's when I remembered what my therapist said when I saw them all those years ago: Firstly, are your current thoughts productive to you as a person or a harmful thing? And secondly, if harmful, it is time to do something productive.

In other words; recognizing my anxiety and putting a solid plan in place to combat it. No more no dealing with the issue.

Now, when I feel anxious, I recognize it, acknowledge the anxiety, and deal with it.

For me that means to do lists. More productivity equals less anxiety or the free time to think negatively.

I plan my days... even days off with an activity that has me using my hands and thoughts.

I give back by volunteering at my child's school. I find peace in helping out. And I love the community of other mothers, educators, and staff that are there. We are making a difference in the kids lives.

And lastly... I cut myself some slack! I am human. I have bad days and in no way am I perfect. I recognize this in myself and others. I allow myself a day to do absolutely nothing and feel ok about it.

Anxiety is never easy to deal with, but by acknowledging and dealing with anxiety, putting a solid plan together (whether it is seeking therapy, medication, or coping mechanisms) you can live a life that is both joyous and peaceful. My anxiety now is 1/25th of what it used to be and I enjoy life again without the shadowy hand following me around.