I have reached a new phase of my mental health journey.
A year ago, I was just beginning to experience new levels of anxiety, and what I can now see as Relationship OCD and Scrupulosity.
Me, this time last year- when I started to descend quickly into an abyss of self-destruction- always tired and ignoring my needs
I was always getting triggered and my mind descending into chaos. Not being able to relax and be alone anymore. Eventually, from the moment I woke up I was attacked mercilessly with intrusive thoughts, and sometimes I was up in the night panicking at fake threats or possibilities.
Now, I am… well, bored. And I have never been more happy to be so.
I say bored because my mind spent an entire year – 2019 was a dark year – with obsessive thoughts that eventually gave way to compulsions, which fueled high anxiety from dawn until dusk.
Now, my mind is unfamiliar and clear.
Through lots of work with my therapist (I found someone who specializes in what I needed; I recommend this if you can find one); joined an online course and community focusing on Relationship OCD (Check out Awaken Into Love here); worked for reconciliation in relationship that needed repairing; resolving some of my anger and disappointment towards God; tending to my dilapidated physical health; seeking out various literature and resources; and leaning hard on my loved ones… As a result, I have experienced levels of mental boredom and healthy emotional regulation that I don’t think I have before.
Healthy in Spring 2020. Reveling in the glow emanating from a more healed, whole, and renewed mind and body. Thank you, Lord!
When I say I’m happy, it doesn’t mean I’ve found some crazy enlightenment in anything I’ve done, per se. I just am more WHOLE. I have grace towards myself when I fail, get anxious, give into a compulsion, or regress. Therefore, I am able to be more understanding towards others as well.
I am doing the work. I am able to decide which thoughts to entertain, let be, or reject as ridiculous.
I am able to feel awful, sad, or even depressed without it having to mean something huge. And, for me, I haven’t been this happy in a long time- happy because I am taking charge of my life by controlling what I can and letting go of what I can’t. My trust in God is growing as I see how he takes care of me when I let Him.
I have been able to set boundaries with people- I can decide how I am to be treated and what I won’t tolerate. This doesn’t mean I reject the other person, it can actually safeguard and improve a relationship/friendship.
I still deal with anxiety, but am managing it significantly better than even 2 months ago.
I will probably turn my focus for Anxious Anne outwards more, since I have more mental capacity to do so. I want to do more features, interviews, and articles relating to mental health, art, and faith.
Let’s see where this goes!
-Anxious Anne
Music featured:
I created a strings cover of a favorite song called “Take Heart” by Hillsong-
I have lived in ignorance of the effects of the quarantine on my life…
We are reaching week number six of the mandated social distancing disorder. I am truly starting to feel it. Even though I am more fortunate than some, with more of a structure to my life, still. I feel like I am floating through life these days. I have this image of a grand, celestial calendar and I am just floating through the weeks and days, inertia carrying me forward.
“Time-space Distancing 2020” by Bethany Porter
At first, as an introvert, I enjoyed the lack of social pressure to go do certain things. My social energy didn’t have to be spread as thin and I could just focus on a very small group of people.
However, about three weeks in, I started to ruminate on different thoughts- usually relating to people in my life whose life has been affected by the social distancing. Next, someone who had been a fixture in my near daily life for the last couple of years died suddenly.
The sudden death mixed with the uncertainty of the quarantine and it’s compounding effect on my and other people’s progress in life started to wear away at my confidence and my ease.
Certain compulsions have come back- some trite ones being eating more dessert and watch TV to emotionally cope, but some more detrimental. I am pretty sure some of us can relate.
There have been some positive effects, too. I have had more opportunities to learn some valuable skills that are pluses as an artist/musician in this digital age. I have had time to attend to some to do list items and finally purchase a shag rug to cover my cheap, thin carpeted floors. I have developed wonderful evening stretching and physical therapy routines. I have also spent some quality time with my roommates and we have bonded in ways we never could have without the quarantine.
My mind is buzzing as the end of the social order (well, who knows if it will be the end) is fast approaching. This will not only mark the end of a very difficult yet enlightening period, but also the beginning of an EVEN MORE uncertain period where anything can happen. The virus could come back. We may see our life very slowly returning to normal, or NEVER returning to normal. Actions long planned could dissolve, adapt, or be completely replaced.
Excuse the language… but it’s apt to my brain lately!! “All will go to crap” is the general feeling.
I will say I am grateful for the things I’ve learned. But my mind is starting to build up with all sorts of thoughts and feelings – feeding the anxieties – and is weighing me down and causing my neck to hurt. I am ready for gravity to come back and these thoughts, plans, and intents to be able to move forward.
I am really good at coming up with ideas. As a small child, I would fill notebooks with drawings of ideas for clothing, brands, inventions, novel plots, and new worlds. However, nothing really came of any of any of those ideas, I simply kept them in the notebook all shut up. They began to collect dust on the shelf.
I do remember one instance where one of my weird, but complex ideas was put to use. It was seventh or eighth grade, and as a part of a history project, we were to create our own country with it’s own language. I dusted off one of those notebooks within which I had created a people and language, called Navi. (This was way before Avatar came out, so I have concluded my idea stolen hahaha; JK, it never saw light of day from it’s inception at 8 years old until middle school). It was really just a code I had created during my spy phase in late childhood. I even wrote in it fluently in my journals so no one could read my inner most thoughts. I proudly, yet somewhat shyly presented my country. Although everyone was impressed at the detail, of course, it wasn’t as significant as in my eyes. After that, however, the language and thought was less special in my eyes because it was no longer secret. It was no longer my secret little language. I don’t know what there is to that story… maybe just that I have been reluctant to bring my ideas to fruition because I want them to stay ideal – a perfect image in my mind, untainted by reality.
I feel like so many times, I have reached the edge of that new venture, where there was a lot of uncertainty, pumped up with ideas and strategies, and yet something like this happens:
I thought of this clip when I started formulating this blog post in my head. So that anxiety that Mr. Bean felt, and the feeling of everyone watching, is usually something I face when I want to try a new thing that I know will take a lot of courage, persistence, and time. I gleefully see the opportunity and walk up with a sense of excitement; but, once I reach the top and see the view from there, every attempt to leap seems to fail. This new opportunity becomes an illusion, yet I feel I can’t return to where I was… so where to go but nowhere. At least I know what that looks like.
I realize that one does not have to deal with anxiety or the like to experience this. Most people do at some point. However, I have seen this as a trend in my life and it has grown in that sometimes I dread and am anxious to do simple things if they haven’t been done before.
Most of the human population live within the bubble of the familiar, which isn’t a bad thing necessarily if you are one who prefers that predictability. Those dependable, seemingly predictable people are probably needed in society. However, I am not one of those people who long for that predictability. I want adventure and I want to be challenged. The anxiety and OCD that I have dealt with – usually keeping me from taking risks or trying to make things perfect before I risk – really has strangled that inborn desire for adventure. I have missed so many opportunities because I wanted to sit back where it was safe or where I didn’t need to be pushed or anything really expected of me. I didn’t want to fail because failure meant becoming vulnerable.
Photo from wandering around in Japan. Traveling to Japan alone was one of the biggest risks I have taken thus far!
There are some things that I realize are beginning to bite me back. I was a very good student throughout my whole life. However, what I thought was a love for learning many times was a desire for validation from my teacher and peers for the marks I received. I was working to get that grade, rather than simply enjoy the material, and take risks in the ideas and questions I put forth. I only raised my hand when I thought my comment or question was perfect, rather than because I was genuinely curious and didn’t care to look a fool. I think near the end of college, I started taking more risks in my essays, and that was when I started failing epically for the first time.
I did take some risks, but usually they were more calculated and safe than one might think. I am not being hard on myself, I think this is all just a part of growth for my story. I am just starting to notice these parts of me that need to wake up if I want to live the kind of life I want to and make the impact I desire.
As I started getting treatment through therapy starting back in 2017, I noticed my ability to have courage and take risks started to increase incrementally. After I emerged from a sort of cocoon phase, I started sharing my music to the public for the first time and doing shows. However, hardship hit again and I seemingly shrunk back into the cocoon.
I have always thought of that as negative. Now, as I am thinking about that analogy, this is not a bad thing. Shrinking back into the cocoon can be seen as a new opportunity to evolve, develop, and grow into something even more beautiful and great. I may not be leaping wildly off into the unknown at present, but I am busy honing in on what needs growth while inside my cocoon. I am at a restful, yet busy phase while in this cocoon.
Thank you for reading this stream-of-thought style post!
There is this American things, well, maybe it’s not just American, but we are all about taking risks, following your dreams, and listening to your “gut”. There are many problems with this for the average Jane or Joe, but these issues compound when clinical anxiety, depression, PTSD, or the like is present.
The first issue is that following your “gut” avoids calculating risk, effects of the action in the long term, or seeing it’s effect with a wider lens. It is making a decision based on what ultimately suits you or follows the emotional beckoning of the moment.
I think the only times following your “gut” is reasonable is when you are in a situation where you realize danger and need to be only your guard or need to run away. That is just it, though, the gut usually is directly tied to our brain’s “fight or flight” mechanism – usually manifesting as panic or anxiety or adrenaline. Why would you trust this in situations other than being chased or needing to protect or rescue someone? The gut is only trying to preserve itself without care for any one else or even the objective truth.
This is why the worst thing you can tell someone who is struggling with detrimental anxiety/depression/PTSD/Paranoia to just follow what they are feeling when they have to make decisions. What they are likely feeling is “RUNN!!!” even if that would actually be feeding into the anxiety, evading something that needs addressed, or leaving a good thing that’s hard. When someone is in that unbalanced place in their mind, their gut – or you can think of it as their current wiring – is usually avoiding triggers, pain, or uncertainty at all costs. However, they will not improve in that way.
I wrote the song below about 2 years ago, when I first started sharing my own music in public places- the anxiety was real:
What I have been learning in my therapy, research, and online classes and communities I have taken part in the last couple of months is that although it is good to know the things that are causing you anxiety (triggering experiences, memories, words, etc.); it’s often not beneficial to “follow your gut” when they are encountered. The gut reaction here is fear, running, and hiding… however, one cannot heal or rewire their brain this way. Anxiety, PTSD, and OCD has caused me great levels of distrust – of my own thoughts mainly, and of other people. It tells me that my thoughts are the enemy and all those who have ever hurt me are the enemy. This is my gut response.
I have been working on what I have often heard called “leaning in” to the discomfort. If something triggers me, instead of questioning the cause of the anxiety to death, I just allow myself to sit with it and let it pass. If I need to make a decision and anxiety is right there thinking it’s going to help me make the decisions like it always has, I remind myself that either I don’t need to make or shouldn’t make any choices now; or, that I should not make a choice based upon fear.
Today, I have pretty much been anxious since the moment I woke up. I wonder if my anxiety medication dose is STILL too low, or if it was because I stayed up until 1am working on finances and rushed out of the door to work… every negative thought, feeling, or memory is congregating at the door of my mind, waiting to do what it is used to doing. My gut is screaming to let all the fearful thoughts in because “we gotta fix this somehow”. But, I won’t do that. Instead, I will acknowledge my old friends, wave at them through the gate, but say that I am busy right now and can’t entertain them. Instead, I think I’ll take a walk on this fine late winter, warm afternoon, read a good book, visit my parents, and listen to some live music.
-Bethany
Featured song below, a favorite of mine, aptly describes much of what I wrote about. “The Draw” Live String Version by Bastille:
I mainly speak of anxiety, depression, PTSD, or OCD here. If you have another condition that relates to something of an addiction, at least in the beginning stages, triggering people, places, or things should be avoided until you gain more control and heal.
I struggled to get started writing this post. I told myself as I started this blog that I was going to allow myself to write diary-like entries and not overthink. Nevertheless, I found myself thinking to myself it has to be a certain way and I need to be clear and concise. Perhaps, my wanting to be clear isn’t so bad, but I started to construct strategy so as to come across in a certain way rather than just being true to my vision for the blog – rip open my heart for others to take a peak.
Posting here because I think it’s funny hehe
NOTE: Music featured and tied to this post is both in the middle and at the end. You don’t wanna miss it.
So, where are we… oh, yea, the process (continual process) of me finding my own voice.
Well, most of this has happened since I began therapy two years ago. It’s not that I wasn’t joyful, happy before, or that I was a liar… it’s just that parts of my being whole as a human had been suppressed.
One day in early January 2017, my world as I knew it was shattered into a million pieces as a memory resurfaced. My mind and body became racked with PTSD. That can mean different things for different people. First, I was in shock, then I was angry, and then I mourned. I was completely broken. I withdrew from all ministry and extra-curricular (I was in my junior year at college) not from shame, but simply because my mind and body could not handle it all. At the same time, everything made sense. All of my crippling timidity, consistent self-sabotage, self-hatred, chronic self-blame, and distrust of people began to make complete sense. I almost felt relieved.
During that time, I remember simply not caring as much about my appearance as I used to… I couldn’t afford the stress. So, one day, where I was feeling particularly numb towards life, I came to school wearing the utmost baggy and unflattering clothing – an ill-fitting, old grey sweater draped over me like a security blanket. Disheveled, unwashed hair, unwashed face… this was actually the beginnings of regaining my voice. At least I was being honest.
First song I posted on SoundCloud, a cover and not my own, but I was able to use it to begin the journey of sharing my voice through music that night Sept 7, 2017 with this imperfect, one-take recording.
It has been a journey since then. Especially as I have grown into a *proper* adult, crawled out from my parent’s protective emotional covering, and have been tried and tested in new and unexpected ways. Most of these trials have revolved around interacting with humans, which makes complete sense considering I had, unbeknownst to me, been hiding away parts of myself; and, was a scared little girl just trying to please everyone so they wouldn’t get upset at me.
Honestly, I felt good after I *completed* my therapy Spring 2018. I felt confident in myself. I felt invincible. This quickly dissipated as I got myself involved in an unhealthy relationship that I had to cut off. However, I didn’t cut things off like I used to with people (friendships or romance), which was usually either silently disappearing or a wordless door slam. I decided that I had to speak my mind, my needs, and open up a conversation with the person rather than seeing their flaws or wrongs, then disappearing or cutting them out. Luckily this person was open to any sort of conversation. However, with a push from friends, I was able to cut it off because I knew it was going nowhere and was unhealthy with no prospects of repair. I only knew this because instead of running, I decided to push closer to the other human and open a dialogue. This was out of respect for them and myself. My old ways were simply self-preservation.
Started sharing my own music in 2018.
I cried for a week straight. A. Week. Even though it was a short-lived relationship. I cried for regret, for deceiving myself again, and because I thought I was better now and wouldn’t make those mistakes anymore. BUT, I also cried for relief because I had done better at saying everything I needed to say to that person and ending on good, clear terms.
My boyfriend said to me recently that I always seem to be struggling with something, and sometimes he is nervous that something is “bubbling” within me and gonna explode at any moment. He was just vocalizing a concern, but I saw it as an invitation to be more forward with him when thoughts began to spiral or doubts regarding our relationship fester.
He is not completely wrong to feel that way. This nothing-to-catastrophe way of dealing with things has been a problem for me. Most of the problem lies in silencing my voice when a less than savory thought enters my head, even if small or trivial, because I don’t want to disturb the other person; or, out of an unwillingness to explore deeper fears OR needs that lie within. As a result, the anxiety that I have been experiencing feeds on that negativity, tension, OR ambiguity and brings it to catastrophic levels. At that point, there lies in me a need to burst.
Promotional graphic from my second “show”. Having fun and being me.
It seems rather than being completely vulnerable with others and allowing them into my processing of doubts, concerns, vices, etc., I try my hand at configuring them – an impossible task when I have only my view and fear to dictate answers – only to be sucked into that fear vortex. Lately my body has been physically manifesting this anxious thinking by way of feeling “on fire”, numb, tingly, chest pain, and the feelings of needing to crawl out of my skin. I have noticed that these symptoms reduce at least 50%, sometimes 100%, when I reach out to someone to vent or process with, or if I directly address my needs or concerns to the relevant person.
What am I most afraid of? What makes me choose an isolated, crazed state over a connected, less crazed, emotionally free state?
It is fear of rejection of my doubts, needs, and concerns, because they may relate to that person and be challenging to them or even hurtful.
It is a fear of disappointment. That what I ask of others will be either impossible, refused completely, misunderstood, or in the end they cannot fulfill them.
Turns out I fear putting any sort of expectation on people. Yet, still I somehow put expectation on them without sharing… for my loved ones, the frustration becomes a feeling of uncertain expectation. It is clear to me now, that the expectation I have, but am afraid to admit, is that I want to be completely understood. I want to feel complete security. I want evidence every second to calm my nerves… an impossible task.
Talking at a songwriter feature event. Being completely vulnerable about the stories behind my songs.
Yet, the cynical side of me – no doubt laced with lies from the farthest reaches of hell – battles fiercely with that. No one can understand you at all. You aren’t actually worth your needs being met. There exists no one who will listen and consider your needs or expectations. No human can love your needy self, neither is anyone ever going to rise to your standards. You’ll regret ever trusting anyone and will be devastated in the end. Why even say anything. It’s hopeless. It will come to nothing. Just keep hiding it. Eventually you’ll figure it out. Just keep turning it over. No, God won’t help, he will just make you feel bad. He will just remind you how weak and incompetent you are…
As I have learned to use my voice gradually these last few years, I have noticed that people worth keeping close and trusting will (1) Listen actively to your needs, (2) Respond to them by opening a dialogue and compromise where appropriate, (3) Seek to meet your needs while keeping their own healthy boundaries established, (4) Make their needs known as well, (5) Show physical evidence of their efforts over time, (6) Be willing to revisit the conversation when needed, and (7) Won’t make you feel bad for having needs, but also won’t hold back criticism when it’s due.
Notice how I did not once say that my needs would be anticipated by those
After voicing my needs to see this goober (we were long distance, but not “official” per se), we arranged for my seeing him in Chicago. No matter where the Lord leads us, I’m glad you are in my life Matthew. I love you.
who love me… sure, over time, as we grow closer to people we can anticipate some needs. However, no human can anticipate or always read what you need without being explicitly told. We chose what kind of relationships we want. Even so, no human can perfectly fulfill my needs.
I have been relying too much on my boyfriend lately. Feeling upset at him because he is not perfect and has hurt me, because he cannot read my needs as they seem to hang heavy in the air, because he doesn’t seem as constantly worried about the problems in each of us and as a couple. And yet, every time I come to him with my needs or concerns he listens willingly, takes them into consideration, we open a dialogue (sometimes a bit messy and sometimes takes a multiple tries) to talk about what can be done to honor us both; he attempts to see my perspective and doesn’t make me feel bad for it, yet he also offers feedback exploring if certain fears or insecurities might be fueling my concerns.
Starting to express myself more, even down to my look in Fall 2018 (chopped locks, confident expression) Yes, that’s a yellow stain I didn’t notice was on my sleeve haha
Only God can see my needs, anticipate them, and only He can minister to my soul on a deeper spiritual level. I shouldn’t put this burden completely on others… I feel that with trusting in God alone over humans, I can then voice my needs without fear to people, knowing that they won’t be able to complete me and being okay with that. In his abundant grace and creativity, God can use them to minister to me. Everything good comes from him and is miraculous.
As I turn to God, pour out my anxiety and messy, irrational emotions to him, he hears me clearer, understands my needs deeper, and knows how to supply my needs better than anyone will ever be able. The more I trust that he hears me, the more that I can find that voice to bring out into the world to the ears of his created ones that they, too, will know of my God who does and will supply all my needs.
NOTE #2: After I finished this, I realized there will be a part 3… stay tuned. I will talk more about how the “reversal” in my present life.
Lord,
I am sorry for putting my trust in other people around me to completely fill all my needs. Nothing can truly satisfy me but you. Please help me to better voice my needs to others so that I can develop deeper, truer relationships that honor you and showcase your love. Help me to not trust anxiety as I grapple with concerns in my mind, but help me to put those anxieties regarding myself and others to rest by continuing to communicate them to loved ones, knowing that you created me not to live alone but to lean on others.
Your daughter by Grace,
Bethany
MUSIC FEATURE:
This song hit my like a ton of bricks today. Non-explicit version below this one.
Turns out the main singer of this amazing group, Chad Gardner, took this song directly from his own journal. The main singer deals with severe anxiety and experiences panic attacks on the regular. What a testimony. He presses through, with his voice shaking, language harsh, and brings his needs before God. He explodes with emotion at the end, rejoicing in the promises of God despite his questions and anxious fears that are “f**king violent”.
Help me to trust in you alone, God. Trust your promises.
There was a time when I was that bossy kid on the playground. It was kindergarten and I was enamored by the pink Power Ranger, Kimberly. Her cuteness. Her toughness. I wanted to be her. So, to no surprise, I would rouse my play companions into a game of Power Rangers during recess. I very distinctly remember sliding down a chute to stand up on the level edge of it, look down at the little boy who I had chosen as my victim, poise myself to launch a lethal jumping kick, and screech out some sort of battle cry. He ran away crying. I got in trouble and shamefully stood in timeout, looking down, half-understanding what I did wrong. This is the oldest memory I have of public shame, and it has stuck with me as if super-glued to my back. I can laugh at it, but I believe those sort of experiences of feeling ashamed fed my natural disposition of not wanting to upset another person, for fear or shame, or rejection.
A shift occurred around first grade when I suddenly turned inward on myself, every failure, mistake, or sin was glued on to me, creating a garment of shame. I became cautious of people, not wanting them to see me, one that crouched hiding shamefully in the corner still ruminating on that time that I cheated on the minute math test. I began to self punish as a way to diminish the need to talk things through with others. I was accountable only to me. I could control how people saw me.
I fiercely defended this impression management into my young adult years. I was that quiet, compliant good girl who listened to everything the teacher said, rarely talked back or disagreed with her parents, got the highest marks, volunteered as a leader in youth group, always said “yes”. In my efforts to maintain an appearance of being “okay”, I kept up these activities to prove my worth to others, and most importantly, to convince myself I was okay, and to do what I thought I needed to do to be worthy of God’s love. I did not know every action stemmed from a core belief of hating myself and thinking myself dirty and tainted.
To the far left at 14 or 15 years old, desperate for validation through achievement!
I didn’t share alternative opinions. I did not voice my true needs. I amended my needs to be what I presumed that person could conveniently help with… I changed myself for others, thus I changed with the wind. All of this resulted in my becoming so timid, that when the waitress was coming around to take orders, I would rehearse what I was going to say in my head, I don’t want to come off as scared, so I need to say it this way, or order this thing to make so and so think such and such… sweat would build on my forehead as the waitress approached and I would push the words through my mouth carefully and nervously, “I want the fajitas” as if we whole confidence hung upon it.
At ~16 years old… not truly known by others.
That was a silly example, but this is just the extent to which I would hide myself away. As a result, I also became averse to conflict and confrontation. I couldn’t handle argument without bursting into tears, though most of the time I would stay silent and stew in resentment. I would not reach out to others for help, thinking the things I was struggling with in my teenage years were shameful and would reveal my weakness. Then, perhaps, they would see the real me that hid behind the facade. I couldn’t let that happen. I was in it alone. I needed to figure it out alone. Prove to my self I was strong.
When I entered college, and started mingling with all sorts of people outside of my normal circles, I began to notice how stunted I was at living among people in a community authentically. I encountered truly authentic people that, when they looked at me, were truly looking at me. None of my rehearsed items or spiels would convince them… I could do nothing but end the conversation and leave, feeling utterly disturbed. I began opening up more to certain people, but there would always be a point where the relationship would plateau… all the things I’ve shared with them that were about me, about my past, what God has done in my life had been said… I wasn’t truly open to inviting others into my current process. That was where I drew the line. I have to figure it out, polish it up, make sense of it before I share, or else I’ll sound crazy, I’ll sound weak, I’ll sound evil…
Freshman year of college. Coming out of my shell more… can you spot me? 🙂
I entered therapy upon the recalling of a traumatic memory from about the time I was in first grade. Everything began to make sense as I realized an inner sense of self-hatred, blame, and worthlessness led to the progression of being myself as God intended loud and proud, to being simply a shell with a scared little girl hiding inside. I realized that I had essentially been changing myself for people because I was scared of them, scared to let them in to see all the brokenness, doubt, and ugliness. So I kept up an image to protect myself and ensure everyone, including myself, that I was okay. Once I realized what I had done, I was devastated… who am I anyways?What do I need?
This is where the “reversal” began: the journey of finding my voice again after it has been hidden away since my youth. This blog is my chance at utter vulnerability… I cringe when I read my old blogs because I was always trying so hard to be someone else, prove to myself that I was okay, or that I was better. I hope to instead come from the position of a sinner saved by grace, in continual, desperate need of a Savior.
As I have continued this journey I have realized this “reversal” has been rocky and I have gone to utter extremes, adopted victim mentalities, and been downright rude…
(Subscribe via email or keep watching for A Reversal Part 2!)
I held on, almost in desperation, to my loving boyfriend. I felt as if gravity was reversing and sucking me up feet first into the sky. The fatigue that racked my body almost didn’t seem real… so I held on, fighting not to give in to the pull.
“I’m sorry, babe. I can’t be present with you right now. I feel so sick. I feel like I’m not even here, but in a dream.“
“It’s fine, you don’t need to try to be anything.”
My body tightened. I could not believe that. I could not accept it…I was fighting to simply be.
I was so frustrated. The prior evening was characterized by loving communication and trust building. 24 hours later, my physical fatigue was pulling me away from this beautiful, simple moment of walking through the cool, summer evening with my love.
Which came first? Anxious thoughts that I tried shoving out of the door of my mind only to physically manifest as exhaustion for the impossible endeavor? Or was my indigestion giving irrational anxiety to interpret my experience? Either way, I was detached completely from sensation external and internal. Although I remember being held for nearly ten minutes, my memory is void of emotion or any feeling or affection. Though, I know in that moment I was loved, and tried my best to receive it, I cannot remember it…
I wasn’t lying either. I love him. But I remember nothing of feeling this since my mind has been drifting frequently to and from earth this week. My memories are fading into nothing but black and white reel in my mind, parts of the film distorted, expressions changed from joyous to withered with apathy or weariness. How can I continue to grow in love when I keep forgetting?
It is as if the claws of PTSD are trying to grab a memory and cast it into the void of space, never to be enjoyed again, assure my bonds with others, retell of God’s goodness, getting smaller as it floats away by inertia…but why is my mind trying to bury good memories? Why is my mind alerting every small disturbance as reason to run away, cut ties with those I love most, and go…nowhere?
I have been playing phone tag with my therapist these last few days.
“I need to go see my therapist.”
I have stated this an embarrassing number of times since my boyfriend came back to live in our hometown, but still haven’t acted. I could feel the push and tug of anxiety. Coasting blissfully and in control for weeks only to have one negative experience pull me away from earth again. Or I would crash to earth, burrowed in a hole of depression.
My excuses: “I don’t have time”, “My boyfriend needs my support more than I need help at this point”, “I’ll go later when things have settled”.
These excuses have led to my becoming incapable of being alone for extended periods of time without spiraling, binging (of food and/or media), skipping exercise, or isolating myself.
Obviously, I need help.
________
Experience mine and others journeys to and from earth in this personal blogging through my navigating this relatively newly emerging thing in my life called anxiety. I say mine and others because I don’t want to make this simply about what plagues me, but I also want to bring in other voices who live with chronic issues and their stories of victory. Positivity is hard when everything is muddled within and ticking like a time bomb; when food starts to lose it’s flavor; you cannot feel the wind; or, your muscles feel weak although you’ve done nothing but lay down all day. So I hope to not bring some sort of toxic positive message, as some have within the Christian communities, but to dig into my own experience and others to bring a biblical perspective on living life to it’s utmost fullness despite “thorns in the flesh”.
This blog will also operate as a mode of accountability for me to continue going to see my therapist and get to a better place. There are too many great things ahead for me to submit fully to this.
The other night, my boyfriend and I were having a discussion about peace. I asked him what it meant, and to my surprise he said “violence”. A violent act – strong and powerful force – needs to happen to attain peace, and by this I mean a godly peace – not feigned ignorance, but completeness, shalom. And confidence. I am set out to explore what this violent act(s) needs to occur in my story.
I also am going to post my art, music, and resources acquired. I also want to collect the art and music or you out there who have funneled all your experience with mental health into art. If you have art or music that you want to share, please send it to me by emailing contactanxiousanne@gmail.com .
Anxious Anne 