I've been pretty open on this blog about my struggles with anxiety & panic disorder. I was consistently seeing a therapist for two years. And then, I got pregnant. For whatever miraculous reason, pregnancy seems to cure my anxiety - thankfully.
These past couple of months though, have been...hard. Anxiety wise.
Some people would chalk it up to being post partum anxiety, because of the drastic decrease in hormones. However, I've always struggled with this sort of thing. Maybe it's heightened because I'm post partum? Maybe it's heightened because we've had a terribly cold, long, brutal winter?
Whatever may be the case, it's really becoming more bothersome, and quite frankly, I'm so tired of this shit!
I know what I'm feeling is anxiety and panic, yet for whatever reason, it still messes with my head.
I'll get a slight pain in my chest and think, "Oh my god, I'm going to have a heart attack! I'm going to die, and my two sweet boys will be left without a mother. Avery will never remember me, and Lincoln, oh my sweet Lincoln, his little heart will be broken."
And my patience. Or should I say, "what patience?" Because lately, I have none. I am usually an incredibly patient person. I usually take great pride in that. However, lately I just feel like I'm so incredibly edgy. I'll sometimes snap at Lincoln, and then regret it immediately after. I shower him with hugs and kisses, and just hope he forgets that Mommy lost her cool.
The house is a mess, the laundry is piling up, my floors are disgusting. And then, while trying to decide which mess to tackle first, Lincoln will come and ask me to build race tracks with him, or read a book. And 9 times out of 10, I give in to him. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I want to be there for him. I want to give him special time. Before long, he'll be running off doing his own thing, and I'll regret not reading that extra story with him. I think to myself that the dirty dishes can wait, yet it still makes me a bit twitchy.
And then my heart starts to pound out of my chest, and my hands get tingly. My breathing becomes more rapid, because I am not breathing properly. I get lightheaded. And it makes me want to crumble to the ground.
But I can't. I push through it, telling myself it's all in my head. Telling myself I'm going to be okay. Being strong for my boys, my husband, and myself.
I look at my two perfect, healthy sons and I know how incredibly blessed I am. I have all I have ever wanted in life. An amazing husband. My two beautiful boys. The most amazing family anyone could ever ask for. I love my life, and everything that it entails.
So why am I struggling with this debilitating anxiety and panic attacks?
I just wish there was a special button to press to make it go away. I am just so incredibly tired of that overwhelming feeling that goes along with anxiety. I want to do something about it. To make it just stop already. So I can enjoy my life. My life. Not my life with anxiety. It needs to stop overcoming me, and getting in my way.
I met with my primary care physician recently, and we agreed to up my anxiety medication a bit. It can take a little while to kick in, but I hope it helps. I'm also trying to get into some sort of exercise routine. Releasing those endorphins can help immensely. I also really believe the change of seasons will be good for me. The vitamin D. The sunshine.
If these things don't help, then I will probably go back to my therapist. Right now it's just finding the time. Maybe I need to make the time? Make it a priority?
I look at my boys' smiles and my heart burst with so much love. I want to give them 110% of me as their mother. I want to enjoy this beautiful life I have built with my family.
I truly believe in this quote:
Being strong is something I'm good at. If I were having a panic attack in front of you, you would never even know. I hold all of those feelings, those debilitating feelings inside. I need to learn how to overcome these anxious thoughts. To release this panic, and live my life. My life. Because it is beautiful. And I want to enjoy every second.