Please not me, not anyone.
Ive posted many times about my real and raw struggle with anxiety and depression. The intense amount of suffering and painful reality that I get sucked into from time to time. It is real, it hurts and is terrifying.
Over the years I have come to terms, not a full acceptance of what I have, but I do have a little better understanding of it. I know some of my triggers and avoid them like the plague. I try to take care of myself but the fact is, I am a "people pleaser" even if that means I suffer the aftermath, I usually do what people would expect of me.
I know most people say "I totally understand" or "Ive had it too" but the truth is. I use to say those things too.. you know "mourn with those that mourn" trying my best to listen and try to put myself in their shoes in that difficult time but I had NO IDEA how awful it really is to live it.
I know its different for everyone. Everyone has their own personal hell, and this is mine. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can barely function. I am short with my kids and ignore phone calls. I burst into unstoppable tears if I think about my anxiety in a moment of a flare and truly feel like in those moments, the devil lives in my body. He sits on my chest and controls my mind.
I beg the heavens to make it stop. My bones ache, my headache pounds and I am a prisoner in my own body. I am not me.
Usually i get thrown into an attack unexpectedly. I don't see it coming and it hits me like a ton of bricks. Other times, I anticipate it. After a really stressful situation or just being WAY too busy with too many commitments, I can sense that I will get anxiety once the situation is done. Like if June is really busy and July isn't, I will usually get a round of anxiety once things slow down.
Two weeks ago we had a big event in our extended family. My heart sank. I do not do well with confrontation. Feelings were hurt to the core. Then, Brian broke his hand on the treadmill. Not just a little break, but actually two broken bones.. the knuckle on his pointer finger and his thumb bone as well as bone fragments that came off the top of his hand. Its his right hand, he's right-handed. Too much to deal with.
Today, I sit on the third floor of the South Health Campus Hospital with a bright pink bag for all Brian's personal belongings and clothes down by my feet. My eyes glued to the screen displaying surgeries and patient transport updates. Trying my very best not to burst into uncontrollable, unstoppable tears. I miss him. I hurt for him and of course, I am worried. Brian's having surgery today getting a pin put into his thumb bone. Its an "easy" surgery and only should be about an hour long but I still sit here worried and just want to be with him.
Wishing this wasn't our current situation and hoping that he is able to heal fast without any complications.
For the last two weeks, I have had major anxiety. I have lost almost 10 pounds, I feel ill. I cant sleep yet im so beyond exhausted. I am anticipating another hard week or two ahead for Brian's poor hand as well as my anxiety. I wish I could just deal with the cards dealt to me without hesitation. Without feeling like a big awful nightmare of a cloud was slowly closing in on me. And yet, this is my trial. This is my reality. This is my life.
I wish I could really let you in and allow you to see what I see. To feel what I feel and to understand that anxiety and depression are so personal and make such little sense. Your mind tells you awful things about yourself. How inadequate you are. How life as everyone knows it would be better without you in it. How your brain tells you to breath faster than your lungs can and because of that you feel like you cant breath at all.
Your in a constant fog. Wishing for a way out and feeling like there really only is one way in that moment and yet its the only way you know you cannot take because you have three babies relying on you to pull through.
Its annoying how simple it is for people to say "just get up", "just move on" "just do something fun for yourself, you'll feel all better". If only it was that simple. Instead its days in, days out of toxicity flooding your brain and your body. Reminding you with every shift that your bones feel like they're giving up. They ache so badly but because of multiple hospital visits, I know now that if you don't allow yourself to feel your anxiety, then it will attack other parts of your body. Back, hips, neck, knees, feet, elbows. Often my hands literally do not work. I can't unscrew a water bottle or pop the lid off of a shampoo bottle.. because my anxiety attacks my hands too.
I do take medication for it and it does help immensely and even more than I give it credit but it doesn't change who I am or how I process things.
Will I ever be able to make peace with the invisible hurt that feels painted all over my face.
