Back in my Confessions post, I opened up (ever so slightly) about my anxiety. Truth be told, I don’t know much about it myself. I am agitated and anxious today and in the mood to write.
I came across two timely articles today. One is called, Finally. Someone Explained Anxiety Perfectly For Those Who Don’t Understand It. It’s a pictorial explanation. Anxiety is like bad weather you can’t prevent.
The other, 13 Things to Remember if You Love a Person With Anxiety. Reading this, I lost it right there in the kitchen over the steamed broccoli.
My anxiety crept in after the birth of my third child, and I knew it had reached the point of no return last year when I didn’t want to host a birthday party for my middle child. The very idea of having my family in my home, feeding them, serving them, being excited for my 4 year old, and then cleaning up afterwards was too much to bear. I invited everyone anyhow, and in a stroke of good fortune was able to clear my head well enough a couple of days before the party to make it happen.
I take medication every day at 5:30 pm to control my anxiety. I think it works. I don’t feel as debilitated as before, but I still get out of sorts sometimes and I can’t make sense of it all. Today is a day like that. I want to crawl in a hole and hide. I can’t find an ounce of care about anything. I can’t focus. I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have been driving. I’m so tired. So tired. And feeling so guilty because I haven’t engaged my children in anything but argument today, yet have no desire to fix it. No ability to fix it. Guilty because my inability to face certain situations robs my children of mandatory childhood experiences. I’m angry, helpless, and frustrated. I try so hard to be a good girl and go along with everything, but it’s impossible. And I’m so sorry.
I am standing outside an umbrella store in the rain and I can’t get inside. I have no solace.
Anxiety is a lonely disease. I suffer in silence. I do not have the good fortune of a friend who understands. I feel stupid when I get anxious. Stupid, then sad, then riddled with guilt, easily angered, frustrated that nobody, not nobody, gets it. Everyone just tells me to go inside and buy an umbrella. Actually, they don’t. I just go along with everything, albeit agitated and irrational, because that’s what I’ve always done. And so it goes.
I need sleep, I need a hug, I need a distraction. I need to get into that umbrella store, but it might as well be a galaxy away.
If you take nothing else from this post, let it be a better understanding of the inner workings of an anxious person. Or just maybe you leave better equipped to accommodate the anxious person in your life. I know for a fact it would surely mean the world to them.