Anxiety.

Anxiety, is a bitch. There, I said it. I’m getting it out there in the open, letting the world know, that anxiety is one nasty reoccurring pain in my butt.

The (one) good thing with it though, is that I now know what it is. It has a name. This feeling that I for so long have had, but never knew what it was. This feeling that, looking back now, I had even in childhood. My pre-teens. My teens. My young adulthood. Adulthood. And now, motherhood. Where it’s been its worst. Honestly, it wasn’t until last summer that it really dawned on me what it was. Anxiety.

Last spring/summer was very stressful. New mom of two, homeless, husband working away, a 2.5year old acting out against having a new baby sister. And that’s when anxiety took over and reared its really ugly head. I had multiple anxiety attacks. Every moment of everyday I couldn’t shake the feeling. It was miserable.

Once things settled into place and we all found our comfort in our new stage of lives. a new home. The baby wasn’t going anywhere, daddy got home, momma relaxed, the majority of that stress vanished practically over night, and with it went anxiety. For the most part.

I still deal with it on a daily basis. Yup, daily. It’s not as intense every day. But even the small simple things often feel daunting. Making a phone call. Play dates. Doing the dishes (over & over) or housewife ‘duties’, stopping for gas. Even if I really want to do things, or see people, or others things that seem simple to other people and it doesn’t make sense why it’s so hard to ‘just do it’, but to me, most of the time, is hard. I mean, a lot of it has to do with being a mother too, and tasks are just hard to begin with, with little ones in tow, but the stomache clenching, tight body, exhausted feeling of anxiety adds that whole other layer.

When I was younger and would be planning to go out to a party, I would always, always get that pit in my stomache. Especially if I didn’t have a close friend to go with. It doesn’t help if I consider myself shy & introverted, either, for social interactions, but I realize now, that that feeling in my stomache was anxiety.

Or when I was even younger at my birthday parties, I never could enjoy myself because I was so concerned that no one was doing what I had planned (but they were having a great time nonetheless, just playing). I also did horrible at sleep overs. Or camps away from home. I’d feel sick to my stomache.

Its by far been the worse this past year, but at the same time, once I realized what it actually was that I was going through (only took me 30 years) it was slightly better, because I could now start to find ways to help me through it. Which, is a major work in progress. I still haven’t gotten to the point where I can nip it in the bud before it gets full blown, but I know to just breathe through it. Find some essential oils to breathe in. To step outside.

Next step, is to just let it be. Let it be there, and not consumed by it. To know it won’t last forever.

Im learning. Learning to deal with it. Bit by bit. But, anxiety, you still a bitch.