I thought I understood when my son was 23 months old that what I did with him was a sacrifice that was worth enduring. I thought I remembered what it was like being depressed and dabilitatingly anxious. Everything else... the nausea, the pains, the headaches only magnify the hell that I live in every day in my mind. I thought, "I did it once, and I made it through it, so I can do it, again."
Now, I think I was crazy. I spent significant time in the Asphodel Fields AND I FORGOT. HOW COULD I FORGET?? I swore I would never do it, again. And I failed myself. How could I even consider doing this to myself, again?
I am filled with regret. I am filled with sorrow. I am filled with pain. I am almost laughing while I cry, because at the same time as regret and sorrow and pain, I know that it is impossible through the words at my disposal to type anything that will amount to the reality of what I am experiencing, so it almost seems a waste to even sit here.
Shadows steal my breath.
Pain stomps down onto me, when I think of standing.
Doubt takes away the faint light of laughter that comes close enough to touch.
DJ, my sunshine, too is hidden by clouds and cannot shine on me.
Sleep is a small blessing.
I won't lie. I have enough perspective to know that this may be the worst of it. There are better times. And maybe after I get through this first trimester, this difficulty will lessen, maybe be gone. But what does it matter when one day is like eternity, and there are 35 of them left, at best, too many to count, at worst.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Gripping Anxiety
I don't know if I will be able to accurately describe my anxiety (or emotionally handle doing so), but after popular demand, I must try to paint this picture.
"Anxiety is a giant, stagnant, hot, thick fart cloud hovering around your face, so you can't breathe. It doesn't ventilate, it is always there with the knowledge that you're actually breathing particles of poop, and no matter of arm-swinging or pillow-fanning will remove the mist from your nostrils and mouth." - Me
Even, if you can figure a way to ignore it, it still lingers.
I was asked when I first started this blog to discuss anxiety, but the thing is, when I'm taking my anxiety medication, I don't feel anxiety, so it's difficult to portray it with words. Because it really is like being a completely different person with and without anxiety - when you're one, you don't remember what the other feels like and vice versa. The next problem is that when I DO have anxiety, it grips me so that I cannot express it to anyone. But, here I am, now, early in pregnancy, when my hormones haven't regulated to "normal," yet, but I'm not on either medication for depression or anxiety, so it is at it's most severe. This is not the first time, and I feel that I owe it to those that don't understand, as well as those that do, to take a deep breath and take a trip to Planet Anxiety...
You know that feeling that you get when you're on your way somewhere, maybe just a friend's or relative's house, and you're sure that you forgot something, but you can't figure out what it is? Maybe you're running several errands and you have forgotten to bring a letter that you need to drop at the post office, or you're visiting family who are in from out-of-town and you forgot to bring an article of clothing to return that they left last time they visited. It could be big or small, but whatever it is, you're not to the point yet where you realize what it is, yet, but you just have that lingering feeling that you've forgotten something. I call this general anxiety. That is how I feel ALL THE TIME. Literally, every minute feels that way, even at the first thread of consciousness upon waking in the morning, it's there. I should clarify, that this is my baseline emotion. Much of my time is spent feeling worse than that. What I just described is the best that I feel each day.
Now, imagine that point where you realize what it was that you forgot. You're leaving your house to take a weekend trip. You're driving 6 hours, and 5 hours into the drive, you realize that you left your iPhone at home. Maybe your driver's license, too. That second that it hits you that an item of that importance is 5 hours away from you and you can't go back and you won't have it for 3 days, you feel it. I call this heightened anxiety. It may only last for a second or it may take an hour to talk it out so that you feel okay about it. But that feeling that most people have for a second, a minute, or maybe an hour, I have that most of the time. This is actually, usually the first emotion I feel upon waking in the morning. And it takes a measure of mental effort to reduce it to the general anxiety level.
Okay, now imagine that you are sitting at home; your child is in the other room and no one else is there. If you have a spouse, they are gone at work and family are all somewhere else. Suddenly, you start to hear an abnormally loud sound of whistling and grumbling, and the house starts to shake. You look out your window and see a commercial airline 747 in the distance heading straight for your house. THAT FEELING, that right there is gripping anxiety, and that is what I feel a lot of the time.
Because I know the cognitive tools to deal with anxiety, I can fight it, but after I take care of my son, keep my house somewhat in order, and retain my marriage the best I can, I have room for nothing else, but that battle. It is all-consuming.
I think that because I've experienced this transition in an out of anxiety more than once, it has allowed me to become a little more able to having some insight into the state I'm not currently in. Meaning, when I'm free of anxiety, I can look back and compare and remember better when it was like under the cloud (I'm not as afraid to revisit). And conversely, now that I'm in the midst of this shadowy, scary place, I have the realization that it isn't always this way, so there is some perspective that the darkness is not real (not much, but much more than other times in the past). Unfortunately, that realization doesn't eradicate the anxiety, but it does help keep it at it's lower levels, rather than it remaining always gripping.
Because of the nature of anxiety, even talking about it tends to make it worse. This is partly why I think that I don't remember what anxiety feels like during the okay times, because it's so frightening that it's better left in the past. This is also why I haven't written about it before, and why I become so withdrawn when I am experiencing the anxiety.
So, I've done my best to give by way of analogies a description of what anxiety feels like. In my every day life experiences, it looks like this:
A generalized feeling of paranoia, because I do always feel like I've forgotten something. I always feel like I'm going to miss an important date, like a birthday or even a work day. I always feel like I have homework to do, and I'm not in school!! Normal daily activities (even regularly fun things) feel like chores to me. I don't talk to friends because it feels like an added chore. Also, I don't have anything to say. Who wants to be friends with a scared weirdo who thinks about nothing but raising a child and how to deal with anxiety all day? I have nothing to give to anyone, when I have anxiety. Not only that, but relationships become more complicated for me. I can't keep a "normal" perspective on things, so any time someone doesn't respond to a text or a voice mail, I think they hate me. Literally, I'm not exaggerating. I hear voice inflections the wrong way, or I hear them right, but I KNOW inside they mean something that they truly may not mean. I am paranoid that people secretly don't like me, but they talk to me when I call them or text them, because they don't want to be mean. I am positive this is true, when I have anxiety. I can assure you, I DO NOT feel that way when I don't have anxiety - either that, or I just keep the fact that it might be true in perspective, so it doesn't matter as much? I don't know! It's an insecurity that I can't shake. During my last pregnancy, I thought everyone I worked with talked about me behind my back. It turns out many did, so it really did a number on my anxiety, there! I also am sure that my OBGYN office hates me (thought they did last pregnancy, too). For example, yesterday I called them because I've been spotting since Friday night and after having spotted and lost the pregnancy just last month, I was a little worried. And I was SCARED to call them! I feel like, if it's not a big deal, I shouldn't call. Like I'm wasting their time. Of course, they do nothing to squander that feeling, as they say things like, "Well, then make an appointment to see the doctor this week, if you're worried," with a tone of voice, like it's common sense and I should know what to do. So, this on call doctor who is never in the office (she didn't even know what days the office was open this week), probably really was annoyed that she was getting called at 10am on New Years Eve Day, but my problem is that I think I'm stupid for calling and I feel like a paranoid annoyance, when in reality, she would've talked to anyone that way. And that's some lady I've never met in my life. So, when I think about someone I care about and think I want to call them or contact them, somehow, I just don't. Partially, it's because I know that I might not handle a conversation right, so I avoid it all together and partially, it just feels easier for me to focus on my immediate family, my home, and my own health the best I can. Especially, knowing that once I get further into the pregnancy (hopefully, if it's like last time), I'll get better, and ultimately, once I'm done nursing, I'll be back on my medications and the anxiety will be gone all together. And I just hope that my real friends and my family will all still be there when I return from this foggy planet to everyone else's "normal" Earth.
This time around, I have been doing a little more reaching out to friends and family - the holiday made that easier - trying to get out of the house and doing this blog, for example, because I know logically, these are good things I can do to help keep anxiety at a generalized level. But usually, this just equates to visiting my mom, because I feel secure with her. Somehow that motherly thing is one of the only blankets that can smother this daily smog into which I awake every day. Oh yeah, and crying is to anxiety, like vomiting is to the flu. It seems to help me for a short while, but it always comes right back in a matter of minutes.
So, for those of you that don't understand anxiety, maybe this will introduce a little more insight, although I honestly believe that it really is something that has to be experienced to be truly understood. And for those that struggle every day, maybe there was something in there to help ease it for a time. And for my few friends who read my blog, thanks for being who you are. Thanks for understanding. Just thanks.
The crazy thing is that unlike other "feelings" I experience throughout life, I feel NO better after writing this post. Not even a little bit better. It just doesn't work that way. A little part of me was hoping that maybe it would, but really, it didn't. All I can do is keep fighting each day, until the time comes when I no longer have to.
"Anxiety is a giant, stagnant, hot, thick fart cloud hovering around your face, so you can't breathe. It doesn't ventilate, it is always there with the knowledge that you're actually breathing particles of poop, and no matter of arm-swinging or pillow-fanning will remove the mist from your nostrils and mouth." - Me
Even, if you can figure a way to ignore it, it still lingers.
I was asked when I first started this blog to discuss anxiety, but the thing is, when I'm taking my anxiety medication, I don't feel anxiety, so it's difficult to portray it with words. Because it really is like being a completely different person with and without anxiety - when you're one, you don't remember what the other feels like and vice versa. The next problem is that when I DO have anxiety, it grips me so that I cannot express it to anyone. But, here I am, now, early in pregnancy, when my hormones haven't regulated to "normal," yet, but I'm not on either medication for depression or anxiety, so it is at it's most severe. This is not the first time, and I feel that I owe it to those that don't understand, as well as those that do, to take a deep breath and take a trip to Planet Anxiety...
You know that feeling that you get when you're on your way somewhere, maybe just a friend's or relative's house, and you're sure that you forgot something, but you can't figure out what it is? Maybe you're running several errands and you have forgotten to bring a letter that you need to drop at the post office, or you're visiting family who are in from out-of-town and you forgot to bring an article of clothing to return that they left last time they visited. It could be big or small, but whatever it is, you're not to the point yet where you realize what it is, yet, but you just have that lingering feeling that you've forgotten something. I call this general anxiety. That is how I feel ALL THE TIME. Literally, every minute feels that way, even at the first thread of consciousness upon waking in the morning, it's there. I should clarify, that this is my baseline emotion. Much of my time is spent feeling worse than that. What I just described is the best that I feel each day.
Now, imagine that point where you realize what it was that you forgot. You're leaving your house to take a weekend trip. You're driving 6 hours, and 5 hours into the drive, you realize that you left your iPhone at home. Maybe your driver's license, too. That second that it hits you that an item of that importance is 5 hours away from you and you can't go back and you won't have it for 3 days, you feel it. I call this heightened anxiety. It may only last for a second or it may take an hour to talk it out so that you feel okay about it. But that feeling that most people have for a second, a minute, or maybe an hour, I have that most of the time. This is actually, usually the first emotion I feel upon waking in the morning. And it takes a measure of mental effort to reduce it to the general anxiety level.
Okay, now imagine that you are sitting at home; your child is in the other room and no one else is there. If you have a spouse, they are gone at work and family are all somewhere else. Suddenly, you start to hear an abnormally loud sound of whistling and grumbling, and the house starts to shake. You look out your window and see a commercial airline 747 in the distance heading straight for your house. THAT FEELING, that right there is gripping anxiety, and that is what I feel a lot of the time.
Because I know the cognitive tools to deal with anxiety, I can fight it, but after I take care of my son, keep my house somewhat in order, and retain my marriage the best I can, I have room for nothing else, but that battle. It is all-consuming.
I think that because I've experienced this transition in an out of anxiety more than once, it has allowed me to become a little more able to having some insight into the state I'm not currently in. Meaning, when I'm free of anxiety, I can look back and compare and remember better when it was like under the cloud (I'm not as afraid to revisit). And conversely, now that I'm in the midst of this shadowy, scary place, I have the realization that it isn't always this way, so there is some perspective that the darkness is not real (not much, but much more than other times in the past). Unfortunately, that realization doesn't eradicate the anxiety, but it does help keep it at it's lower levels, rather than it remaining always gripping.
Because of the nature of anxiety, even talking about it tends to make it worse. This is partly why I think that I don't remember what anxiety feels like during the okay times, because it's so frightening that it's better left in the past. This is also why I haven't written about it before, and why I become so withdrawn when I am experiencing the anxiety.
So, I've done my best to give by way of analogies a description of what anxiety feels like. In my every day life experiences, it looks like this:
A generalized feeling of paranoia, because I do always feel like I've forgotten something. I always feel like I'm going to miss an important date, like a birthday or even a work day. I always feel like I have homework to do, and I'm not in school!! Normal daily activities (even regularly fun things) feel like chores to me. I don't talk to friends because it feels like an added chore. Also, I don't have anything to say. Who wants to be friends with a scared weirdo who thinks about nothing but raising a child and how to deal with anxiety all day? I have nothing to give to anyone, when I have anxiety. Not only that, but relationships become more complicated for me. I can't keep a "normal" perspective on things, so any time someone doesn't respond to a text or a voice mail, I think they hate me. Literally, I'm not exaggerating. I hear voice inflections the wrong way, or I hear them right, but I KNOW inside they mean something that they truly may not mean. I am paranoid that people secretly don't like me, but they talk to me when I call them or text them, because they don't want to be mean. I am positive this is true, when I have anxiety. I can assure you, I DO NOT feel that way when I don't have anxiety - either that, or I just keep the fact that it might be true in perspective, so it doesn't matter as much? I don't know! It's an insecurity that I can't shake. During my last pregnancy, I thought everyone I worked with talked about me behind my back. It turns out many did, so it really did a number on my anxiety, there! I also am sure that my OBGYN office hates me (thought they did last pregnancy, too). For example, yesterday I called them because I've been spotting since Friday night and after having spotted and lost the pregnancy just last month, I was a little worried. And I was SCARED to call them! I feel like, if it's not a big deal, I shouldn't call. Like I'm wasting their time. Of course, they do nothing to squander that feeling, as they say things like, "Well, then make an appointment to see the doctor this week, if you're worried," with a tone of voice, like it's common sense and I should know what to do. So, this on call doctor who is never in the office (she didn't even know what days the office was open this week), probably really was annoyed that she was getting called at 10am on New Years Eve Day, but my problem is that I think I'm stupid for calling and I feel like a paranoid annoyance, when in reality, she would've talked to anyone that way. And that's some lady I've never met in my life. So, when I think about someone I care about and think I want to call them or contact them, somehow, I just don't. Partially, it's because I know that I might not handle a conversation right, so I avoid it all together and partially, it just feels easier for me to focus on my immediate family, my home, and my own health the best I can. Especially, knowing that once I get further into the pregnancy (hopefully, if it's like last time), I'll get better, and ultimately, once I'm done nursing, I'll be back on my medications and the anxiety will be gone all together. And I just hope that my real friends and my family will all still be there when I return from this foggy planet to everyone else's "normal" Earth.
This time around, I have been doing a little more reaching out to friends and family - the holiday made that easier - trying to get out of the house and doing this blog, for example, because I know logically, these are good things I can do to help keep anxiety at a generalized level. But usually, this just equates to visiting my mom, because I feel secure with her. Somehow that motherly thing is one of the only blankets that can smother this daily smog into which I awake every day. Oh yeah, and crying is to anxiety, like vomiting is to the flu. It seems to help me for a short while, but it always comes right back in a matter of minutes.
So, for those of you that don't understand anxiety, maybe this will introduce a little more insight, although I honestly believe that it really is something that has to be experienced to be truly understood. And for those that struggle every day, maybe there was something in there to help ease it for a time. And for my few friends who read my blog, thanks for being who you are. Thanks for understanding. Just thanks.
The crazy thing is that unlike other "feelings" I experience throughout life, I feel NO better after writing this post. Not even a little bit better. It just doesn't work that way. A little part of me was hoping that maybe it would, but really, it didn't. All I can do is keep fighting each day, until the time comes when I no longer have to.
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