So, I've been having a little anxiety lately.
This is not anxiety due to imagined catastrophe, or unrealistic fear. It's the after-effect of some real crazy shit that went down a few months ago that required unimaginable i can't believe this is happening this is NOT my life steps to protect myself and my family. Leaving me with just a touch of PTSD. Seemed completely reasonable at the time, all things considered. This anxiety is nothing debilitating it never was, but it is enough to make it feel like my stomach is doing backflips and my heart is skipping beats. As uncomfortable as it is, and as often as I consider briefly popping half a xanax, I choose to sit with the feeling. Well, I don't really sit. Usually I keep moving get out of bed, sweep the floor, move the laundry along, think about dinner. I'm spared of this feeling at work thank god for small favors big ones. Being at home is the trigger. Personal life. Family. Memories... That's where things are still not quite right. But it's getting better. I've learned to view this feeling as a head's up. It tells me there's something that needs to be attended to. Something that's causing a feeling of instability.
Sometimes it's hard to tell if the instability is external or internal. Is it just fear, or is there something I can do? I'm not a control freak. I'm easy. I'm well aware the only thing in my control is me. The thoughts in my head, the way I react, the decisions I make. But what if I make the wrong choice, the wrong decision? I'm making decisions that affect 4 other people. My children. Even though I like things predictable, I roll with the punches better than most. But, when on the spectrum of my life, it's Earthquakes, Pestilence, Droughts and Floods? That's when I get the eensy-ist bit panicky. When my world starts falling down blowing up and I'm dodging bullets... that's when it starts.
So, right, I breathe. Sounds silly, but it really does help. Breath by breath. It's better than cramming food down my gullet though that's never been my thing. It's better than drinking. And early on, that xanax was really good at alleviating the anxiety so I could get a decent night's sleep. But... daytime... it would just knock me on my ass. And I like to be productive during the day. Or at least have the choice to be productive. Deep breaths keep that panicky feeling at bay. In each breath, things are OK. With each breath, the discomfort is squelched, and I can think clearly about what's causing it. I can break it down, and formulate a plan of attack. Plan of attack. Not panic attack.
Yes, it's getting better. Things, I think, are moving in the direction of good. Back to the way it was a long time ago when it was really good. Because it was, years ago, really good. It was the best.
Maybe the anxiety is like a blinking yellow light approach with caution. Maybe it's just residual fear, and as things continue to improve, the anxiety will continue to decrease. Either way, as uncomfortable as it is, I won't ignore it or erase it. I'll sit with it or fold with it, clean with it, cook with it and make it work for me.