Category: Anxiety Toolbox

Target Practice

Target Practice

reroutinglife

Another spring break has come and gone.

As excited as I was to take some time off from the normal day to day and get down to the Georgia coast, I was pretty dang excited this morning dropping my kiddos back off at school. Grass is always greener, they say!

I have to bring awareness to the fact, however, that my anxiety levels have been heightened as of late. I’ve noticed the soundtrack in my head becoming stuck on the old what if and oh no and get me out of here more than I have in a while. Old triggers have been more noticeable and louder in the past month or so.

Of course I’ve been ruminating over why…but the sad truth is that the wild goose chase may not ever lead anywhere. Hormones? Stress? Diet? I mean, you could run yourself into the ground.

I did know that I had a long drive to make, and I was doubting myself pretty heavily.

I know I’ve mentioned that the way we think has a direct impact on our anxiety levels, among others factors. The truth was, the doubt and fear were starting to gain momentum on the feedback loop in my brain. This negative thought pattern sets us up for the perfect breeding ground for anxiety to grow.

The drive down was tough. The endless lanes of Atlanta’s interstates bearing the morning load of traffic was overwhelming. I squirmed in my seat and fought through it, although waves of disappointment and discouragement accompanied my endurance.

I’ve been doing so good! Why am I taking a step back? Am I falling back into my old ways?

Just like that, the lies began to try to persuade truth into my life. It’s amazing how powerful your thought life can be. The tiniest idea can manifest into a whole identity-stealing concept before you can blink.

After we arrived, I was mentally exhausted. That was hard, I mentioned to my mom without much detail. I kept going back and analyzing the failures of my drive, like it was some judged performance, although it was me who was the lone judge in this competition. I had the hardest time shaking off the worry that I was re-entering the dark pit of debilitating anxiety.

Sadly, ruminating on the negative has completely overshadowed the fact that I still successfully made the drive. I tackled Atlanta morning rush hour (which is no small feat…um, hello 16 LANES!!!), managed two children and a dog, fed everyone, made the necessary bathroom stops, all while making pretty darn good time. From an accomplishment stand point, I should be thrilled! Especially knowing that a handful of years ago, driving on the interstate with my children was my number one fear.

Hold up…I conquered my number one fear!!! How could I forget how awesome that is?!

It’s funny how you can desperately wish for an outcome for so long, and once you achieve it, there’s a point that the euphoria of success tapers off, and you begin to assimilate that once impossible task back into daily life. It just becomes normal. You try to remember why you struggled so much to do something that barely phases you anymore. It’s almost as if the anxiety never robbed you of all those years in the first place.

Until years later, when you receive an uninvited visitor.

Hey girl, haaay… so it’s been a while. Why don’t we hang out anymore? I know, I know…I was a bully. But I was just trying to keep you safe, remember? I mean, you could’ve been out living your life worry-free and having fun, but who wants to risk that?! You were safe in your little cage, thanks to me. You couldn’t drive, you couldn’t get on an airplane, go to concerts or movies or crowded restaurants, I mean ugh…what a hassle that is anyway! Why don’t we go have lunch and I’ll remind you that you can have your old fear-driven, anxiety-ridden life back? Can’t we just be friends again? Puh-leeeeeease?!

Ughhhh…there she is. My a-hole brain, trying to let herself back into my life. There I was, dwelling on the disappointing flashbacks of my less–than-perfect drive, when I should’ve been celebrating an amazing accomplishment. That’s what the a-hole brain does; steals your joy and tries to erase the good thoughts from taking the proper front-row seat in your brain.

She even tries to stop me from writing, that little hussy. Distracting me and doubting my abilities with every passing hour. You don’t have time or no one wants to read that or why even bother, what’s the point?

All too often, I listen to her. Or I just get lazy and pick up a book or defer to the Netflix. But not today, dang it! If I have to pick up and finish this post every time I’m in carpool line, I’m gonna make it happen. So what if spring break was a full three weeks ago…no one said this was a race.

Anyway, so we have a great break, and guess what? I will have to drive back home at the end of it, because that’s how vacation works. Of course, I would rather stay and live at the beach forever, but that’s not really the most realistic life choice at the moment. So I prepare myself by trying to think more positively about my journey. I can listen to my podcasts! I get to sleep in my bed and take a shower in my own shower (we all know we get cleanest in our actual, own shower)! Maybe the traffic will be lighter than normal in McDonough (reality check: traffic is never light in McDonough, for some mysterious reason.)!

So I start my trek, the kiddos settle into the first of many hours of technology time (an utter delight to their eyes and my ears) and I get going on the podcasts. I love a good podcast lately, and a nice long drive is the perfect time to devote some attention to them. Most of my favorites are personal development podcasts, but I have everything from pop-culture to faith to current events to business psychology in my library. I kind of love all the things.

What I really love is a hearty, deep conversation, especially within the realm of faith, and more importantly, when my soul needs to be nurtured. Sometimes I just need a good soul hug. So I sat back and took a deep dive into a few of my favorites.

In one particular interview, the speaker was talking about calming her nerves before speaking publicly. When she prayed about it, she saw the image of a target on the back wall during her speech. It was there to remind her that God should be her primary focus, especially during difficult times; all she had to do was focus on Him to get her through her struggle.

This wasn’t a new idea to me, making God my focal point. My faith-walk has been a pivotal factor in overcoming anxiety. But sometimes I need a reminder, a wake-up call, a direct-line to hear His message.

About 10 minutes after listening to the target story, I got my message. I passed a billboard with a huge, white target symbol plastered across the front. I can’t remember what the advertisement was for (I know it wasn’t my beloved Target big-box department store), but it screamed to me, loud and clear.

I’ve got you. Keep your eyes on me. I will guide you home.

Traffic was horrible, as Atlanta traffic always is on a holiday weekend. It was coming up on hour six of my drive. The sun blared down on all 16 lanes of packed cars, reflecting off their roofs like shining scales on an enormous school of fish navigating through the current. I was weary. I wanted off the interstate, and I wanted off now.

Those are the moments that you realize you have a choice. You can succumb to the chaos of your lack of control, or you can focus on your target. You can get carried away by the endless waves of uncertainty or you can stay on course and follow Him home. Once you can let go and surrender that control, it’s smooth sailing.

I don’t remember the exact moment in that sea of traffic that the peace washed over me, or how I somehow received a boost of energy that helped me through those final 45 minutes, but I do remember my overwhelming gratefulness. I relaxed in my seat, smiled at the familiar scenery of my hometown out my window, and breezed on home.

Bullseye.

Like I do with every blog post, I start to narrate in my head, can’t wait to run to the computer when I get the chance to share my insight. But before my fingers even make it to the keyboard, my a-hole brain quickly shows up and tries to shut it down. You’re too tired. Nobody cares. Your thoughts aren’t really worth sharing anyway.

But then…Monday. I take my daughter to tennis practice and I hear her coach say, “Focus on the target.”

Tuesday. A friend sends me a rap video on my phone (we were trying to get pumped up for our tennis match, ok?!!) and guess what’s painted on a brick wall in the background? A white target.

Wednesday at my tennis practice. We ask our coach what we are going to work on today. “Target practice,” she says.

Fine, I think. I hear you!! Keep going. Keep your focus.

Symbols have always been a huge influence in my life. I can’t explain it, but I feel it in my spirit when something I see takes on a deeper meaning. I’ve never really heard God speak to me, but I know He can communicate in so many ways. Even though my faith has grown leaps and bounds recently, I’m a skeptic at heart, and I think God knows I need these reminders to stay the course. Sometimes they are whispers and sometimes they are roars, but I know when there’s a message waiting for me. All I have to do is be willing and ready to receive it.

So here I am, reminding you to stay the course. Focus on your target. Lean into your faith and trust the way forward. Do the hard things because they will help you grow, no matter how much you want to stay where you are. You will miss the mark, over and over again. But when you hit the bullseye…that is the moment that you realize all that target practice was worth it.

Steady your arrow, and let it fly.

You Are What You Eat

You Are What You Eat

reroutinglife

I did something a bit, well, sneaky the other night.

As we were about to turn in for the night, my husband asked if I knew where his phone was.

“Your phone? Hmmmm…” I replied.

I knew exactly where the phone was. Selfishly, however, I omitted that information. Notice I didn’t lie, right? I told you I was sneaky…

My husband loves comedy podcasts. Like a lot. Every night, falling asleep in his huge headphones, comedians help lure his thoughts away from everyday stress. In the morning, it’s news on his phone. Scanning pages and pages of headlines, the latest shocking drama or political circus act. It seems like a harmless distraction, or is it?

He also gets caught up with work calls, texts, never gets a chance to fully escape from work. Constant responsibility weighs heavy. It’s a sacrifice, sure, but he truly loves the push and pull of his work life.

I too, am guilty of the addiction of finger swiping late into the night when I need to wind down. Before I know it, I’ve gone deep into the rabbit hole; this story leads to that story leads to another story. Sometimes interesting, sometimes informative, even uplifting at times, but for the most part, distracting chatter. I’ll read an article and then get caught up in the reader comments that usually read like childish banter of I’m right/you’re wrong nanny-nanny boo-boo. Its like an all-you-can-eat buffet, you just want to keep going back for more.

A while back we talked about this in bible study, about things we tend to watch or read regularly. My friend mentioned her husband started listening to these political podcasts constantly, and she noticed a subtle change in him. He became overly worried and invested in the toxic political atmosphere according to the news, when in reality his career was nothing related to that world. He became quick to anger and criticize. Finally she suggested that he listen to something a bit less intense.

For the past few years it seems, the phone seems to become my husbands constant companion. Ok honestly, it’s that way for a lot of us. It’s a way to escape at the end of the long day, or relish those last few minutes of laying in bed in the morning. And don’t even get me started on Netflix…I mean, how fun can that be on a rainy day???

The other day, before the phone hijacking incident, I told my husband he was turning into his mamaw. Don’t get me wrong, she was an amazing, spit fire of a women. Jason tells stories of how she used to buy things from garage sales and turn around and sell them for profit. The woman could pull off one hell of a hustle. When I first met her, she was sitting with Grandpa Brian on their plaid couch, cozied up in their small living room, eyes glued to one of the 24 hour news networks.

“Jason, don’t you go bringing kids into this world, it is a scary place,” she would say, staring at that small box in her living room. She would go on with concern about how the world and humanity was doomed. How we should be worried and afraid. She didn’t venture out much from her small house in Franklin, Tennessee much in those later years; the people in the tv warned her not to. The constant, negative news feed had shaped her entire world view from that half-acre lot in suburban America.

We already struggle daily with our own interpersonal news reel, feeding us the shoulds and what ifs and whys of our daily actions. We struggle with self-compassion and positive self-talk already, so to feed ourselves more negativity from the world around us can overload until we are drowning in hopelessness. We feel a tremendous weight and burden that we don’t even need to be carrying.

I’m not saying that we need to be unaware of what’s happening in the world, because I absolutely believe that knowledge of injustices and needs around us can call us to action and unite communities, but this is more of a help me, help you situation. Like putting on our own oxygen masks before we start helping others. If we run off trying to put out fires before we’ve filled up our water tank, we won’t get very far.

I decided a few years ago, I needed to change my diet.

It wasn’t a food diet; (ok, so there is lots of science to back up that this is essential also, but this girl needs some French fries in her life!!) I needed to change the information I ingested.

I struggled with self-worth, with feeling like I was enough, with shame and guilt over my anxiety issues. But unlike those extra pounds that you can feel and see, my extra weight was internal. It made my heart and soul feel heavy with doubt and fear. Being overweight in your soul can be just as harmful to your health as in the physical sense, but most of us don’t entertain this notion as much.

So how do you start a healthy diet for the soul?

Everyone is different here. We all have things we feel are lacking, and those are the nutrients we need to feed ourselves regularly. Of course it can be as simple as doing one thing we love everyday, or using our creative gifts more often. For me, writing, music, and being out in nature pack a healthy serving of soul food, so I try to make intentional time for those as often as possible. I have friends that go for long runs or take a trip alone once a year. The other day I told the lady doing my pedicure how much I appreciated it and how I wish it was covered by health insurance. Whatever self-care you can fit into your schedule, don’t feel guilty about it.

I also read my devotional every morning, either while brushing my teeth or even more effectively, when I drink my coffee. Tying a daily habit to another only reinforces the act. I make it a priority to read the “good news” of God before reading the news of the world around me. I’ve been doing this daily for about three years, and it’s become as essential to me as breathing oxygen. My oxygen mask.

Mindfulness and being still are other daily snacks that I try to feed myself. We are constantly attacked by countless distractions, and ingesting small moments of quiet and calm can better equip us to battle that sense of feeling overwhelmed with to-do’s. Even if it’s five minutes of your day, the benefits from this habit are life-changing.

Of course, physical exercise and a healthy diet directly affect our state of mind, so it is important to pay attention here as well. But just as we try to drink enough water, take our vitamins, get our cup of coffee in daily, we can’t overlook the importance of the information we are feeding our brains and hearts, figuratively speaking. The mind-body-spirit connection is about as critical as all those crunchy yogis and preachy pastors and chill therapists say it is, and I’m so glad the “mainstream” population (whatever that generalization really means?) is starting to believe it. We can’t do life on our own, people.

So before you scroll the endless barrage of news feeds and Facebook posts and check-lists, pay attention.

Have you fed your soul first today?

I know, it sounds corny. Cheesy. Whatever you want to call it to distract you from the fact that it is essential to your health.

The night I “hid” the phone, my husband and I cuddled up and watched a show together. It reminded me of our earlier days, when smartphones weren’t even on our radar. I relished in our quality time, and my soul started to fill up. In return, I felt loved, worthy, at ease. The extra pounds of loneliness and rejection slowly started melting off. I was satisfied.

So while this isn’t a lesson in how to deceive your husband (of course I fessed up the next morning, after gushing about how much I enjoyed our quality time), it is a reminder to take notice of the “junk food” you catch yourself craving; the deficits and distractions in your life that are depriving you and draining your happiness and health. If you have to set limits and boundaries to do so, go for it.

If you find yourself hungry for happiness, craving comfort and control, thirsty for security and self-compassion, start a new diet. Find what lifts you up, take it in, feed it to yourself a little each day. It’s the most important, most delicious, most satisfying meal you will ever eat.

Fake News

Fake News

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Cognitive distortions. What are they? Why are they important? Are you speaking Italian?!!

“Cognitive distortions are simply ways that our mind convinces us of something that isn’t really true. These inaccurate thoughts are usually used to reinforce negative thinking or emotions — telling ourselves things that sound rational and accurate, but only make us feel bad about ourselves.”

To put it simply, it’s like fake news. It’s the stories we continue to tell ourselves that aren’t true. And they can affect every aspect of our lives negatively if we don’t keep them in check.

Throughout my years of therapy I’d been handed many wordy, overwhelming worksheets and charts that explained all this, but with my brain already struggling to make sense of anything during that stressful time, I yearned for someone to tell it to me straight, like a friend would. I needed a friend in that dark time in my life, one who understood the frustration and confusion and complexity of it all. That’s my goal, my service to you. I will do my best to provide that valuable insight as only a friend would.

Over the next couple weeks I’m going to break down the 15 most common thought distortions as simply as I can. All of us have struggled with negative self-talk at some point or another, whether we realize it or not. Those of us who have struggled with anxiety and depression have carried the crushing weight of negative thought patterns without even knowing it. Luckily for us, neuroscience has proved that the brain has the ability to change, just like any muscle in our body. This is called neuroplasticity. If we do the exercises, we can potentially “build” our brain muscles and improve our mental health and well-being.

But like anything in life, it’s not an easy fix. If you start a workout program to try to loose weight, it takes time, right? You don’t see results right away. You may get discouraged and want to quit. Same goes for retraining our thoughts. It takes time and effort to see results. It also takes persistence and maintenance work. The first step is learning what areas we need to work on.

Our bodies yearn for balance in order to thrive. If we are off-balance in one or more aspects of our lives, we start to suffer. Stress takes over and we begin to deteriorate. There are so many pieces to the puzzle. But training our thought patterns to work for us and not against us, is just as important as taking care of our physical bodies.

Lately I feel I’ve been slipping ever so slowly back into old thought patterns. It’s a tricky thing to realize, but when those old familiar panic triggers start to flare up and creep into my day to day, I know that I need to get to work.

For example, the other day I was driving somewhere, and I felt my nerves start to fire up and my thoughts drift off to that place of fear and panic. It was an old, deep-rooted trigger (one of hundreds my mind had mapped out over years of uncontrolled anxiety). A certain stretch of road was all it took to bring me back to that place. It happened so fast. My throat dried up, I started desperately grasping for something to steady my fearful thoughts. When I am quickly flooded with panic, I feel like I can’t get enough air. I crack the window, turn down the AC, fumble for a sip of water. These impulsive reactions that are hard to explain, but it’s just the coping mechanisms my brain tells my body when it is triggered by a negative feedback loop. 

Ten years ago, when I didn’t know what was going on in my brain, I would’ve completely panicked.  My body would’ve been taken over with terrifying, uncomfortable sensations; heart racing, arms and legs tingling, unable to breathe, dizziness, tight jaw, dry mouth.  All while trying to maintain a vehicle on a busy interstate. I would’ve ruminated all day on what had happened, felt tremendous shame and isolation, and wondered how I was ever going to live like this. Oh, and I wouldn’t have mentioned it to anyone. Looking back, it’s no wonder I was afraid to drive on the highway for years!

Today, however, there is no mystery in all this. I know what I’m dealing with, exactly what cruel trick my mind is trying to play on me, and even though this is not a welcome battle in my mind, I have to remember how to manage this bombardment of fake news that is flooding my brain. I dig into my toolbox at that moment; I reach for my lavender oil, take some deep breaths, intentionally switch my train of thoughts to the positive. I practice present-moment awareness and become an observor to my surroundings; the feel of the steering wheel, the music, the cool air blowing from the vents. Most importantly I remember not to stop the anxiety from happening, but give it space to rise and fall, knowing that it will end as quickly as it began. This is the hardest part, trusting this process. But it has been a vital part of changing my feedback loop to be able to manage these moments of panic that will always be lurking around a dark corner. It is disappointing and discouraging to be back in this dark, scary place, but now that I’ve found ways to deal with my anxiety constructively, I must trust that I can do it again.

These moments are discouraging, sure, but they are invaluable messages that remind me that I need to get to work. As I’ve mentioned before, there is no cure for anxiety, only management. It will creep back in, but I have the power and the tools to keep it from taking over as much as it has in the past.

The mind is a funny, fickle little thing. It can trick you into thinking all sorts of false realities. It can make you think you are in real danger when in fact you are not. Worry, dread, phobias, panic: all contrived stories we tell ourselves, all fake news. So how do we keep these scary stories tucked away, up high on a shelf, witholding the urge to reach for them?

Again, we circle back to good old cognitive distortions.

Let’s think of an example so that we can explore the different types of distortions. Let’s say there’s a high-school girl named Sarah. Sarah has just moved across town and is starting at a new school. She is extremely self-conscience already and is nervous about this new environment. On one of her first days there, she has to stand up in front of one of her classes and introduce herself. Here are some of the thoughts going on in her head when she is told she has to do this.

“Oh my gosh, if I don’t do this perfectly, I am ruined!” – All or Nothing Thinking (Black and White Thinking)

“Ugh I should’ve worn a cuter outfit! I look so lame” – Mental Filter (discounting the positive and focusing on the negative)

“The other kids will think I am so dumb. I’m going to have no friends. ” –Jumping to Conclusions (Mind Reading and Fortune Telling)

“I am so humiliated, so I must be an idiot.” –Emotional Reasoning (thinking that because we feel a certain way that it’s true)

“I am such a loser.” –Labeling (assigning labels to ourselves or others)

“I always make a fool out of myself”-Overgeneralization (seeing a pattern based on a single event)

“My hair looks pretty good today, but that just doesn’t matter anyway.” –Discounting the Positive

“I am never going to have any friends at this school.” –Magnification (catastrophising)

“I should have never agreed to do this. I must be sure to never to do this again.” –Should/Must/Ought statements

“I must’ve done something wrong to deserve this kind of embarrassment.” –Personalization/self-blame

Do you see what poor Sarah has done to herself? She has let her mind take this one small moment and turn it against her. She feels terrible and self-defeated. Yes, talking in front of people is one of the most anxiety-producing things a person can do, but the way we think about it has the tendency to make it either better or worse. Wouldn’t you want to know how to cope with public speaking in a more helpful way?

It is so much harder for a teenager to hone in and dissect this dangerous way of thinking, as their brains are still developing. But knowing what I know now, I wish I had these tools as a child! What a difference a mindfulness practice would’ve made!

Pay attention to your thoughts towards yourself and towards other. Do you find yourself falling into any of these mind traps? I know I still struggle daily. But once we can start recognizing our unhelpful thoughts, we can work at changing them for the better. It takes time and patience, but it can be done!

Don’t let your mind betray you. With the right tools and a little practice, you will find yourself at the winning end of the battle in your mind!

And no, that’s not a distorted thought. 😉

My Mind is Playing Tricks On Me

My Mind is Playing Tricks On Me

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You are what you think.

Mind over matter.

Think it, be it.

Yes, you’ve heard the phrases, but the idea is the same…our thoughts help shape who we are.

After the trauma and shame of the first few years of my panic attacks started to taper off, I found myself wanting to know more about them. Certainly this occurrence didn’t come without a biological explanation, right? This wasn’t some random crazy voodoo that was making me feel like I was dying all the time, was it? Knowledge is power, and I was determined to get to the bottom of my seemingly broken brain.

So I started to research and read every panic attack and anxiety/depression book that was out there. It was overwhelming, and I got all hung up and intimidated by the big fancy psychological terms and charts and graphs and exercises, finding myself discouraged yet again. Would I ever find out how to understand what was wrong with me?!!

It’s been 15 years since my first panic attack, and it’s been a journey to say the least. But in that time I have definitely gained a better grip on what exactly makes the brain pull these kind of pranks on us. I’ve found that logical explanations based on neuroscience and psychology can really bring a light to the darkness of anxiety.

Let’s start with our cognitive behavior.

When you her the word cognitive, what do you think of? Looks fancy, right? The word cognitive simply refers to our conscious intellectual activity, such as thinking, reasoning, or remembering. It’s basically using our conscious brain in reference to our daily lives. When we think a thought, recall a moment, try to solve a problem, we are being cognitive. Our conscious thoughts, however, are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the complexity of our mind.

Good old Sigmund Freud conjured up the earliest concept of the three levels of the human mind, which in their complexity are not capable of being scientifically proven, but widely accepted among psychologists as the standard example of how our thoughts are used and stored. This is often referred to as the “iceberg theory” (hence my clever reference above).

Our conscious thoughts, which guide us through our day to day, are just a fraction of what lies beneath the surface. In our subconscious, we store the emotions and associations tied to these thoughts beyond much of our control, based on recent experiences or behaviors. The unconscious level is the deepest and hardest to reach, where blocked-out trauma, carnal human needs, and old forgotten memories reside. For more analysis and explanation, here is a great article that breaks it down.

When you suffer from panic attacks, your number one goal is to make them stop. As I’ve learned and mentioned before, you can manage them, but you will never be able to completely stop them. This is where acceptance is key. You can, however, greatly improve the frequency and intensity of your panic attacks in many different ways. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is one of my favorite tools in my anxiety toolbox, and I hope it can help you, too.

When you suffer with mental disorders such as anxiety, depression, PTSD, eating disorders, and so on, there is some type of faulty informational feedback loop in your mind that is giving you false or negative thoughts that can impair your everyday quality of life. Basically, what CBT claims is that by working to change your thought patterns, you can change your behavior. There are varying CBT exercises that can help with this theory.

I’m going to try to break it down for you as best I can over the next couple of weeks. Next time, I will explore Cognitive Distortions. When I learned about these, it was a game-changer for me. There is a lot to cover, but all I can do is offer what has best helped me, in the hopes that it can help others as well.

Most importantly, if you are in a place of suffering right now, give yourself a break and realize that you are not alone in this. Whether they choose to share it or hide behind a mask of perfection, so many others around you are struggling with similar issues. Don’t be too quick to judge a person from the outside, as you would not wish that for yourself.

We all have weaknesses. We just have to learn to own them and see them for what they are. If we want change, we have to do the work. If we want to love, we have to love ourselves. If we want to help others, we have to share our stories.

“I am learning to trust the journey even when I do not understand it.”

-Mila Bron

We may not ever fully understand our journeys, but don’t lose hope. Lean in and trust what comes. You are stronger than you think.

Pardon My French

Pardon My French

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I hesitated to write this post at first, but as I shuffled around speed-cleaning the house, the thoughts kept bubbling up, the words wanting to burst out of my head. So here I am, typing away instead of weeding through my children’s clothes to find the things they’ve outgrown (like I had planned). But as I’ve learned in my renewed love affair with writing, you can’t ignore a surge of inspiration. Poor Jack may end up sporting a crop top when he goes to put on that 4T shirt later, but at least I managed to purge my thoughts.

I’d been thinking about a phrase I’ve used lately, and frankly, too infrequently in the past. It’s a bit off the cuff, especially for me (a generally straight-laced, mild-mannered individual), but if something works for you, you go with it.

My husband had an outpatient procedure the other day that I had to accompany him to, and was also required to drive him home from.  The hospital is a good distance from us, so I anticipated having to take the interstate home.  I tried to avoid circling my thoughts around this too much, reminding myself that I’ve been successful lately with my highway driving, so this would be no different, right?

Someone else was nervous too!

Two things that worried me, however; it was 8:30 am, smack in the middle of morning rush hour in metro Atlanta, and I had an adult passenger. Sure, it was just my husband. But much of my driving anxiety started with him as a passenger, so there are some pretty deep associations present when he’s in the car. Poor guy, he thinks it’s all his fault. Anyway, I briefly toyed with the idea of taking the back roads, but we had been up since 5 am, and we were ready to get home. So I put myself on auto pilot and headed for the highway.

I haven’t touched much on my social anxiety, but it plays a big factor in how my other anxieties and phobias are affected. As a people-pleaser and chronic “nice” person, you constantly worry about what other people think of you.  You would rather die than ever burden anyone with your issues, so you bury your emotions. You constantly crave acceptance, so you only want to show the most acceptable side of yourself. All of this “acting” and pressure to be perfect can further contribute to anxiety by blocking any and all outlets of stress relived by showing genuine emotion.  I am constantly putting pressure on myself not to fail (although I’ve drastically improved at this lately) by avoiding my real feelings and hiding behind this perception of having it all together. The “fear of man”, that I have referenced in an earlier post, carries an uneven, unhealthy amount of weight in my life.

When I’m worried about trying to drive without having a panic attack, and then you throw the social anxiety on top of it, you end up with a Double Stuff Oreo of anxiety. Not sure if this is the best metaphor, as I love me some Double Stuff Oreos. So maybe an over-flowing trash can of anxiety? Whatever works here.

Anyway, I’m driving along for a bit, while my husband is in a post-anesthetic coma but managing to make work calls, and all of a sudden, I start to feel my chest tightening up. When you start to panic, you can feel as if you don’t have enough air (this can eventually lead to hyperventilating, which ironically, is the effect of taking in too much air), and I falsely sense the oxygen thinning.  I deepen my breaths and try to let the calm wash over me. I start to notice the alarming amount of cars around me, and my body stiffens at the thought of being trapped. I hang out in the far right lane for a while, giving myself an exit strategy just in case I need to pull over. I don’t worry much anymore about having to pull over with my husband in the car, as I’ve done it many times with him in the past and he has learned to be understanding. But I still have my pride, and I force myself to push through this impulse, knowing that I’ve faced this challenge before.  Still, with every approaching exit sign I have the urge to give up, to take the comfortable route. My thoughts are circling again, the doubt is surfacing. My body is stiff, my chest is tight, I struggle to get enough air in, or so it feels.

Am I going too slow? Are people getting annoyed with me? Can I pass this person or will I panic if I’m in the middle lane? Will my husband be disappointed if I exit now? Will I be disappointed? Can I make it home? 

Worry. Doubt. Fear.

I feel the words in my head causing physical symptoms in my body. The pressure to please. The lies of fear. The dialogue with my a-hole brain that has held me back from a full life…from freedom.

Then I remember; I have the power. It’s within me. I can talk back to my a-hole brain. It will not control me. So I fire back at it.

Who gives a shit? 

You laugh, I know. This is not how I usually talk. But this is how I should talk to my a-hole brain.  I mentioned in an earlier post that I needed to talk to myself more like a friend, but my a-hole brain is not my friend. It is an intruder, an annoying, trouble making creep who’s taken up residence in my brain. I spend so much energy being nice to everyone around me, but I cannot keep being nice to the a-hole. I can’t keep entertaining its thoughts and resume a passive stance.

I say this phrase silently, in my head. As soon as the words take over, the fear melts away, almost instantly.

I’m driving too slow and this might annoy people. So what?

I might panic if I switch lanes. Who cares?

I might disappoint others or myself. Who gives a shit?!!

I hardly ever curse. Not that I’m against people who do, it’s just not my thing. Unless I’m trying to learn a new sport. Then you might happen to hear a few choice words. The first time I tried to ski with my husband (who is one if those natural athlete-type people and therefore infuriating to the athletically challenged, like myself) I cursed like a sailor and at one point proceeded to throw a ski pole.  But cursing at fear and doubt can be incredibly powerful, not to mention therapeutic. 

This is not me, but its pretty much what I look like on a ski slope.

I know some of you are like, this is how I think all the time, no big deal.  To you I say, more power to you. Way to be resilient and confident and unaffected by the messiness of life. Not that you don’t care, but you know when to say when. You know when to stand up for yourself. For those of you like me, who care too much, who worry about everything, who can’t imagine upsetting anyone, we need some more curse words in our lives.  Just stick them in your back pocket and pull them out when the too much is starting to paralyze you. Don’t feel bad about it. Don’t think you are disappointing anyone by using the power of a word. Okay, so do use your best judgment here, of course, but when talking to yourself, let it go. No one is in your head but you. You won’t offend a soul by silently cussing out the thoughts that shouldn’t be there in the first place. Go to town, my friend.

It’s truly amazing, the power of words. Words can knock you down, but just as quickly build you back up. They can hurt but they can heal.  When weakness envelopes you and  fear tries to trick you into imminent failure, reach into that back pocket and pull out the words that will fight back.  It doesn’t have to be anything dramatic, of course. You may simply shout NO!!! STOP! when defeating thoughts begin to surface. Whatever works for you.

Of course, one of the most important things I’ve learned on my journey with anxiety and panic, is that you don’t want to stop the actual attack.  When panic is coming on, it’s important to let it come, and not try to stop the actual event of a panic attack.  Thinking you can stop a panic attack, and desperately trying to stop it, has the counter-effect of making it worse and more intense.  But changing our thoughts in the moment is the key here.

For example, if I’m riding along worrying about a handful of things while driving on the highway in a heightened state of sensitivity, there’s a huge difference in saying “No, I cannot panic. Please don’t panic.  I’m so scared that I will have a panic attack. Oh no, here it comes!!” and “Who cares if I panic? Here comes a wave of panic now. I will be just fine. It will be uncomfortable and I don’t like it, but who gives a shit? It will pass and life will go on. No one cares if I panic.” Can you pick out the better way to talk to yourself in an anxious situation? Which one is more forgiving? Which one gives you room to breathe and let go?

In the past when I would start to panic and freak out in front of my husband, he would tell me to “ride the wave”.  Of course, at the time I would just get mad at him and tell him he didn’t understand.  As it turns out, however, he was right (cue eye-roll).  The wave of panic will come, and like any wave, you cannot stop it.  It has to gradually grow, crest, and break.  To prepare for this, we must learn the best way to ride the wave of panic. It will be uncomfortable, unpredictable and hard to control, but we can do our best to steady our boards and ride it out until the water eventually becomes smooth again. More waves will come, yes, and some will be bigger than others.  We may be scared and unsure. But we become better riders with practice.  We learn to lean into the waves and our ride becomes smoother. We are better prepared if we get tossed into the surf. We ride it out and know that eventually we will reach the safety of the shore. 

It takes so much practice. That’s the scary part, starting the practice. But it can make all the difference. Don’t give your fears too much material to work with.  Belittle them and they will slowly fade away. If you don’t care about them, they won’t care either. Neglect your fears and they will not survive.  Don’t let them back you into a corner; just walk right past those fears and don’t give them a second glance.

I hope you care enough about yourself to not give a shit. Not when it comes to believing the lies fear throws at us. Not when our thoughts make us think less of who we are. You are too important to put up with that.

What will you say to your fear? I hope whatever it is, it’s not very nice. Frankly, I hope it has something to do with going to hell.

Okay, you can wash my mouth out now.

The soap may taste bad, but the freedom tastes oh so good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’ve Trained for This

We’ve Trained for This

reroutinglife

I can’t believe the summer is over.

It was a great one. We soaked up the sun, swam our hearts out, and ate our weight in popsicles. We had a blast at the beach, made memories in the mountains and out on the lake. We hit the water parks, museums and movies. The summer was hot, fast and magical.

I also can’t believe that I only blogged ONE time all summer.

Although as I mentioned in my last post, I take that as a pretty good sign. Instead of blogging away at night, drenched in fear, I was pretty relaxed. I was doing things I hadn’t done in forever, like actually reading whole books and watching TV (seriously y’all, I hardly ever watch TV anymore. It’s a steady diet of smart phone news and Facebook). It was a nice break. Of course, I’m obsessed with the summer Olympics, so now there’s more TV. I can’t think of a bigger oxymoron than watching the best athletes in the world sweat it out while I lay completely still and horizontal under my blanket on the couch. If only they gave gold medals for best blanket-wearer. I’d definitely be on the podium.

Anyway, I did accomplish some big things over the summer in terms of anxiety. I drove up to Cashiers, NC with the kids and my sister in the car, which was huge for me. Granted, it wasn’t a ginormous interstate, rather a series of small highways and crazy mountain roads. It was super uncomfortable and mentally exhausting, but I made it. The more I pushed through the discomfort and just maintained, the better I felt. Although having an adult passenger in the car makes driving harder, since the social anxiety kicks in and amplifies everything.

What if I start panicking in front of this person? Or have to pull over to calm down? What will they think of me?! How embarrassing! 

It helped so much that my sister knows all about my issues, but it’s still not something that I’m comfortable with. And I was following my mom and grandmother in their car, which added even more pressure.  I did have to finally pull over on the side of that curvy mountain road (at the ever convenient scenic lookout) to take a stretch and a brain break, something my first counselor taught me. Sometimes it helps to just stop and hit the reset button. Although when you’re driving it’s not practical to stop very often, especially when you have passengers. But eventually I made it, and had an incredible vacation, so mission accomplished. Another tiny taste of freedom.

Lately, I’ve been driving on the interstates more frequently, and have been able to stay on for an extended amount of time. This hasn’t happened in years. If I ever did get up the nerve to get on the highway, I’d usually only make it one exit.  Going for more than one exit was such a scary idea; as soon as I passed the first exit I would automatically panic at the idea of being trapped until the next exit.  If there was more than a mile between exits, it was game over. I became flooded with panic. Looking back I can’t believe how catastrophic this idea seemed. There is still a small impulse to pull off when I see an exit approaching, but it’s nowhere near the level of doom that I previously felt.

One of the biggest differences I’ve noticed when I practice highway driving is the decreased level of anticipatory anxiety. Back in April, when I really started tackling this thing head-on, just thinking about having to get on the highway made me shutter. I would work myself into a total frenzy from the time I left my house until I reached the entrance ramp. My nerves would just fester and burn until they were about to explode.  I anticipated the worst scenarios possible; having a panic attack on the highway, losing control and crashing, injuring my children. Because of these twisted thoughts my brain totally rejected the idea of getting onto the highway at all, and this also caused physical sensations that would worsen the more I worried. Trying to control a car when your skin is crawling with discomfort and you feel like you’re having a heart attack is not exactly a good time. But after numerous practice sessions, the nerves are starting to settle. The purpose of exposure practice is to desensitize the brain and to re-train the thought patterns of fear. Ever so slowly, I’m beginning to regain control over my a-hole brain by proving it wrong.

Hey a-hole brain? Look at me! I’m driving on the highway and I’m not crashing. You were wrong. Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah! 

Fear is such a liar. 

So now when I choose to practice highway driving, I just get on and go without much of a thought. There’s still lots of discomfort and doubt, but the voice of fear isn’t quite as loud. Sure, the actual decision to practice is still a tough one, and maintaining a calm journey is extremely difficult, but I’m taking it nice and slow. Baby steps. Plenty of grace. I’m not ready to head down I-75 with the kids to the beach, but it’s on my to-do list.

Although the voice of fear was relatively quiet this summer, today it decided to turn itself up a notch. Up there with that fear was an equal amount of self doubt. I always try to pinpoint reasons for an increase in my doubts, but the truth is my self esteem issues run deep. I’ve always struggled with my self worth, to the point that it’s shaped much of who I am. Again, I can’t point to a specific cause of this generalization, but I recognize it as a lie. It’s just a lie that I have a hard time unbelieving.

The way we talk to ourselves is so automatic that it’s hard to tune into, let alone change.  For different reasons, our genes and our environment shape our subconscious thoughts from the moment we are born. I’ve spent many years in talk therapy and I’ve come to the realization that I will never be able to trace back to a specific reason that I talk to myself the way I do, and there’s no one thing in my past to blame for the onset of panic disorder.  Mental health is so, so complicated and such a conglomerate of factors, that the search to pinpoint a cause or find a cure is enough to drive you mad.  In fact, I will never be completely cured. Similar to a recovering alcoholic, there’s always a chance that I will fall back into my old ways.  It’s something that I will have to manage for the rest of my life.

Most people who suffer with anxiety or depression tend to have distorted thought patterns that end up leading them down this road.  David D. Burns, author of The Feeling Good Handbook, uses the idea of cognitive distortions to treat his patients. Psychiatrist Aaron T. Beck was the originator of this idea, and Dr. Burns continued to research the concept and has even developed methods to alleviate negative thought patterns.

Cognitive Distortions are exaggerated or irrational thought patterns that are believed to perpetuate the effects of psychopathological states, especially depression and anxiety.

I tried to read Feeling Good.  I really did. Heck, I may even pick it up tonight and try to get back into it.  It’s a great resource. But it’s long and technical; there are charts and daily assignments and at some point my ADD kicks in and tells me to put it down and see what everyone is up to on Facebook.

He does, however, have a great method for getting rid of thought distortions. You have to chart your daily thoughts (specifically during anxious or depressive episodes) and trace them back to categories of thought distortion. It’s kind of like untying a knot in your negative thoughts by figuring out what distortions makes you think a certain way. Once you can straighten out your thoughts by disproving the distortion, you can recreate the thought in a positive, more constructive manner. This takes a lot of work, mind you. But if you really want to get down to the root of your problem, this is a highly successful way to do it.

I want to at least give you the list of cognitive distortions for reference purposes. I love this version of it:

When I first saw this list, I realized how many of my thoughts were distorted. It had become second nature to me to think like this for most of my life. I’ve been handed this list by many a therapist and psychologist, but I appreciate how this one includes pictures to help you remember easier. It’s like Cognitive Distortions for Dummies. There are many other lists online; feel free to search for the one that is easiest for you to understand.

Dr. Burns suggests that the way to “untwist” your negative thoughts is by keeping a Daily Mood Log, to track your thought patterns and assign them to one or more of the cognitive distortions. I also like this list of simple ways to examine negative thoughts:

The power of thought is amazing. The notion that a simple thought can shape your mood, your behavior, and your entire life is not to be taken for granted. The longer you’ve lived with distorted thoughts, the harder it is to unravel them.  But it is possible.  I am seeing the results ever so slowly.

In other news, I did make a few more noteworthy accomplishments this summer.  I made it to the top of the lighthouse while on vacation in Saint Simons Island…man, if that wasn’t a hot, seemingly endless, claustrophobic journey.  I drove up I-75 to the Tellus museum, and again on the way home, with my daughter in the car. And just today, I crawled through the penguin tunnel at the Georgia Aquarium.  THE FREAKING PENGUIN TUNNEL! Have you been in that thing? It’s like two feet tall in there! But the smile on Allie’s face when I lifted her up and she saw herself surrounded by all those adorable little penguins, that just made the extra flutter of fear in my heart transform into joy. Okay, so I was also a little distracted by the two penguins that decided to mount one another right in front of me. Thank goodness Allie just found it funny that the one penguin was “jumping” on the other one. Good gravy.

To the “normal-brained” person, this list seems silly, but to me it is everything. To me it is proof that my work is paying off. Every little accomplishment gives me hope. I have so much more work in front of me, but I’m motivated. I have built up quite a collection of tools to help me, and hopefully I can help a few others along the way by sharing them along with my story.

The other night I was watching (guess what?) the Olympics, and the runners were getting ready to take their marks at the starting line. I said to my husband, Can you imagine the nerves they are feeling right now? I would never be able to do that! I would pass out!

They are trained for that, he says.  They spend their whole lives training for that moment. This is their moment. 

No matter what the goal is, there’s a way to get there. We are all running our own race. We train for it. We practice. We put in the work, the sweat, the tears. My race does not involve gold medals or world records, but it is a race towards my freedom. Freedom from the chains of fear. I don’t need to win, necessarily, I just want to finish strong. To be able to look back, with clear, non-distorted thoughts and know that I did my best. That the fear did not break me, but propelled me forward.

I will finish this. 

 

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Hierarchy of Fears

Hierarchy of Fears

reroutinglife

Here it is! I’ve finally committed to writing about the hierarchy of fear. Let’s define a few things before we dive right in.

When you have lived with panic/anxiety disorder for while, you develop a pattern of avoidance called agoraphobia. Agoraphobia is defined as “fear of places and situations that might cause panic, helplessness, or embarrassment”. So essentially, this is the fear of fear I keep talking about.

It starts out so subtly that you don’t even realize that it’s developing, but the avoidance of fears can only last for so long. It starts to affect the way you live your life in a very limiting way. There are people who’s agoraphobia is so extreme that they become housebound. I met a lady once after college, when I was living in Florida, that had this condition, and it was the first time I had ever heard of such a thing.

What a miserable way to live! How could you be afraid to leave your house? 

Little did I know that one day I would be so close to knowing that feeling. It has never been that bad for me; yes, I do prefer the comforts of home, but I like to get out of the house. There was a time when things were really bad that leaving the house was starting to feel like a threat, but luckily I interviened with medication.

When I first read about common fears that can induce panic and anxiety, I felt instantly understood.

You mean there are other people who feel like they are going to die if they sit in the middle seat in a movie theater? I’m not the only one who panics when the door closes in a meeting? Wait, I feel like I’m suffocating on the subway too! 

When you develop these fears and hide them from the world, you feel like no one understands. You feel ridiculous, embarrassed, inferior. It’s terribly isolating. But you may be surprised to find that most of your fears and phobias are common and are understood by millions.

Approximately 3.2 million American adults ages 18 to 54, or about 2.2 percent of people in this age group in a given year, have agoraphobia. Specific phobia involves marked and persistent fear and avoidance of a specific object or situation.

Statistics | Mental Illness Research Association

Still feel alone? Sure you do. Better maybe, but where are all these people when you need them? It’s not like everyone’s open and understanding about it. Most people I know try to hide it or are unaware of what is actually happening to them. It took me 5 years to figure out and accept my issues. That’s a lot of time for people to walk around feeling scared and confused.

If you are one of the just plain scared and confused, you need to be proactive about treatment. There’s a difference in just being scared of something versus developing an actual phobia that changes your behavior and thought patterns. For some, a trip to a doctor/therapist  is a good place to start. Maybe a tweak in your diet and exercise regiment will make a world of difference. Meditation/prayer and getting enough sleep works wonders. But we are all different, and in different stages of the game. Since I was uneducated on how to heal myself naturally, I had little success and sought medication to get a jump start on my therapy. But if you catch it early enough, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Exposure Therapy can be very successful in treating panic. It’s considered the gold standard among psychologists for the treatment of anxiety disorders.

Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) is a short-term, goal-oriented psychotherapy treatment that takes a hands-on, practical approach to problem-solving. Its goal is to change patterns of thinking or behavior that are behind people’s difficulties, and so change the way they feel.

In-Depth: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy | Psych Central

Of course, the way we think influences the way we feel. Our feelings and emotions influence our perspective on fear. Changing these thought patterns can be extremely helpful. Of course, if you are deep in the emotional pit of thinking, (which is where I tend to find myself often) logical thought training can be a challenge. For me, it made more sense to start CBT after finding a helpful medication to stabilize things a bit.

Exposure Therapy is a derivative of this theory; it’s also the most challenging since it involves directly facing your fears in order to overcome them. As scary as this sounds, for me it’s proven the most successful, that is, when I can muster up the courage to practice it.

Every time I get onto the highway, I’m using the exposure therapy technique. There is a big difference in the mindset that you use when exposing yourself to your fears. When you are actively practicing exposure therapy, you voluntarily put yourself in a position to become anxious and panicky, but you are prepared to let it happen instead of resist the fear. The resistance and avoidance is what essentially feeds the panic. Letting go of resistance is key. However, you must be prepared with the right tools before you practice.

So back to your list of fears. This is one of the first steps you must take before you begin any kind of therapy. You can simply jot them down on scratch paper or use a template like the one here:


There are different types of templates, and they vary slightly; play around with them until you find one you like.

You start with a general category. For me the big ones are driving, flying, confined spaces (this is very broad), darkness and crowds. Every one of these general categories that for me, has multiple sub-categories. For example, Fear of Confined Spaces could have the subcategories subways, tunnels, movie theaters, elevators, church, meetings, etc.

Once you decide which fear to start with, list each varying situation and rate them according to the scale you are using. Then, put them in order from least scariest to most. Now you have your starting point. Each baby step you take in conquering your fears is a step of success. It may feel painfully slow and cumbersome, but be patient with the process.

Again, it is important to know before you start practicing with panic that you need access to tools that will help you cope with the fearful situation. The AWARE steps I mentioned before are essential tools for riding out a panic attack. Of course there are various other tools that can help you with your anxiety in general, and I will cover those later. But for now, listing out and organizing your fears is a great start.

As you write out your fears, you may notice some of their powers instantly fading. Simply getting these thoughts out of your head and on to paper can be extremely therapeutic. Why do you think I started this here blog, people?!

You are a powerful voice in your own life. As hopeless as you may feel, you can change the way you react to your fears. Once you learn and truly start to believe that fear is a liar, that power is given back to you. It’s been there all along, you just have to learn to trust and believe it.

So write out your list. Your list of lies. I can’t wait for you to start crossing them off one by one. Cross them off and tell them to go where the sun don’t shine and never come back. Seats taken, fear. You’re not welcome here. 

The Darkest Day (A Love Letter to my Medication)

The Darkest Day (A Love Letter to my Medication)

reroutinglife

I promise that my blog won’t be this intense and heavy all the time! But I feel like I cannot truly move forward without sharing this story with you. If it helps one person with their decision, than it was worth it.

This is pretty much the story of why I decided to start taking antidepressants. I know some of you probably just got on them without thinking about it, which is fine and dandy. But I am an overthinker and an overanalizer, and this was a tough decision for me. It scares me to think about where I would be had I made a different choice. So I don’t really go there. But if you or someone you love is struggling with treatment options, this may be a good read. I’m going to start a series called My Toolbox (coming soon!) with all sorts of helpful tools for helping manage your panic disorder. But I do need to get the medication part out of the way first.

I have numerous favorite books that have helped me through all of this, but some of them spend quite a bit of time disproving the idea that anxiety/depression medications even work. They stress that you can be cured without medication. By all means, you can, and if you can, more power to you! But please don’t put pressure on yourself if you are a complete failure without them. I tried so hard not to take medication, to the point where I almost broke. Sometimes you just have to give in already.

So back to my story. I had my first big panic attack, and many others in the years following. 7 years to be exact (with the exception of my first pregnancy, when I was totally symptom-free) before starting medication. Wow, writing that out makes me realize how long I actually suffered.  I wasn’t miserable all of the time, but when it was bad, I didn’t have the tools to help me in the right ways, so it just steadily got worse.

I was a preschool teacher for most of those years, and I can remember  days when I could barely drive to work. I would try to take different routes that wouldn’t trigger the panic, but there are only so many ways you can go. Little did I know, the avoidance was just feeding the panic. I was just winging it. I would panic in silence while reading a book to the class. I would panic during meetings and conferences, but nobody could tell.  I burried it deep inside and carried on with my perma-smile. I remember my jaw being constantly sore from the stress taking its toll. I would wake up at night with my teeth just chattering with anxiety.

I finally mentioned some of these things to a coworker, and I’ll never forget what she told me, that the other day she had to just “get up and run out of the room.” She was having a panic attack. I think this was the first person that I had really ever talked to about it, outside of my best friend and my spouse. She went to her doctor and he started her on Lexapro. I got his number and booked an appointment as soon as humanly possible.

I went to see this doctor, who talked to me for all of five minutes before giving me a sample pack of Lexapro. Although I was excited, something still didn’t sit right. Was this the right decision? How can he diagnose me so quickly?Does this guy even know what he’s doing?

I went home and took one pill. I remember tying my shoes and all of a sudden feeling like everything was in fast-forward. I started to freak out. Now I know a little trick called weaning on and off medication to help lesson their negative effects. Something Doctor What’s-His-Face forgot to mention during our short encounter. So I started calling people. My husband, my family, a friend or two. Most of them shared the same thought:

“You are the happiest person I know. You do not need to be on medication.”

So that was it. I believed in them more than myself. I decided to ditch the medication route and start talk therapy.

But then I got pregnant, and I felt great. Anxious, but in a good way. I was so overwhelmed with love and purpose for the little life inside me, that most of my fears melted away. I had a great pregnancy, and delivered a beautiful, healthy baby boy.

For the first few months of motherhood, I was in the total baby-euphoria stage. Sure, it was a total life change, and not a walk in the park by any means, but I was still so fufilled in my new role. My sweet Jack filled the gaping hole of love and acceptance I had yearned for my whole life. My bucket was full.

But as happy as I was, slowly things started to settle in. I went back to work when Jack was 8 weeks. I was juggling parenting, working, breastfeeding and pumping, lack of sleep, and the realization that I was totally committed to being a parent forever.  All things I expected, sure, but you can never be fully prepared for the challenges this new reality brings. Before I knew it, my a-hole brain started emerging from the shadows. Sometimes I wish he would just announce himself with some grand gesture instead of slowly creeping back in. He would be so much easier to recognize. But he is just sneaky and mean like that. That a-hole.

Things were getting pretty bad and I could barely even see it. I did finally start talk therapy, but my claustrophobia had gotten so bad that I couldn’t even make it up to the office for my sessions. I remember the terror I felt in the elevator, the hallway, and in the waiting room. I felt like I was gasping for air, the walls closing in, so anxious to escape.  Sweet Wendy would meet me downstairs in a restaurant nearby instead. We had some great talks, uncovered some past issues that couldve contributed to my anxiety; she even gave me some desensitization techniques. But our goal was to fight this without medication. I was insistant that I didn’t need it.

I had my big panic attack on the highway during this time. This propelled me towards rock bottom. Even though I had a sweet, happy baby that I loved to the moon and back, I was deeply saddened that he had a mother with these issues. My most important job as a mother was to keep my child safe and happy, and I felt like my fear was putting him at risk. Such a helpless, helpless feeling. The sadness became depression. I didn’t even know this until later, looking back. Anxiety and depression often go hand in hand, and usually one is a precursor to the other. In this case my anxiety had led to my depression.

I started having trouble sleeping I was so anxious. I had terrible, horrific nightmares. I’m still shocked at how bad these dreams were. All symptoms of my anxious state of mind. I could barely drive to work without being in a constant state of panic, and having my precious child in the car with me constantly only magnified my hopelessness. At one point, I was standing up teaching a lesson to my class, and I almost fainted. I was at my breaking point.

I woke up one morning after a bad night of awful dreams and little sleep, and I felt like I was on pins and needles. I was jumping out of my skin with fear. I had to wake up at 4:30am to feed Jack and then get ready for work. I’ll never forget walking into the bathroom, turning on the light, and looking in the mirror. I didn’t recognize myself. I know people say this casually all the time, but this was the scariest, darkest moment of my life. It was like I was looking at a different person. This was not me.  I then had the most life-changing thought I’ve ever had: This person has to go. 

I’m not sure if this counts as a suicidal tendency, and it pains me to even write down those words. I genuinely love my life and the people in it. I love being a mother, a spouse, a daughter, a friend and a good-hearted person. That person in the mirror, however, that person wasn’t any of those things. That person wasn’t me.   I knew at that moment that I needed serious help. I needed to change my life ASAP.

My counselor got me an appointment with a psychologist the next day. She started me on Zoloft and gave me Xanax to “nibble on” in case the Zoloft caused more anxiety, which it did at first. I do remember going back into that fast-forward feeling, and I had some tightness in my chest. But for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t scared. I drove to work without worrying about it. I started sleeping again with no nightmares. Slowly life started getting back on track. The medication was helping me. It was what I needed at the time.

I know medication is controversial. You hear about Big Pharma, doctors getting paid off to write prescriptions, people giving ADHD medication to 2-year-olds. I know this is an abused and very subjective issue. There are risks and benefits associated with anything you do in life. Your circumstances may not lead you down the same road. Everyone has a different story. I’m just sharing my particular story of why I’m thankful that the medication was there when I needed it.

Starting medication for anxiety or depression isn’t something to take lightly. I’m glad I went to someone who was a trained expert, but I also wish I wouldn’t have waited so long. But, to quote one of my favorite songs by the Indigo Girls:

“With every lesson learned a line upon your beautiful face.”

I learned many great lessons on that bumpy ride. I’m learning more and more everyday. It’s a beautiful thing.

If you feel like starting medication is necessary to your healing process, do your research. Be your own advocate. Be vocal with your doctors about what’s working and what’s not. If they don’t listen, find another one who will. If I could give my two cents about picking a medication, find one that’s easy to wean on and off of. Also be patient. You may have to try on a few different medications before you find the one that works best for you.

True, I dislike being dependent on my medicine, and there are withdrawls issues if I switch or forget to take it. I will get off of it one day. But for now, I know I’m doing the best I can, and I am in a good place.  A humble, joyful, grateful place.

If you didn’t hear anything else in this story, hear this: don’t wait until you are staring back at a stranger. Love who you are enough to get the help you need. Do not sit back and suffer in silence. You are worth more than that. Don’t let your fears distort your own reflection. You deserve to wake up, look into the mirror and love who you see.

Dizzy Days

reroutinglife

imageThe day is still young, but it has already surprised me.

I went to bed too late (as a result of still navigating this blog thing!) and woke up feeling dizzy.  A few days a month, I will have these “dizzy days”.  Whether it’s from lack of sleep or a side-effect of medication, they generally set you up for a “bad” day.  If you suffer from panic disorder, I don’t need to explain this.  I know everyone has bad days, but when you have frequent panic attacks, the bad days just set you up for failure; at least in your head, anyway.  Just your a-hole brain playing tricks on you again.

What a little prankster.

It was off to school as usual, 7:30am for Jack and 8:45am for Allie.  I really, really didn’t want to face the day.  Feeling vulnerable, uncomfortable, and generally out of control.  The a-hole brain feeds on this negative feedback.  I almost just kept Allie home so I could chill.  Sometimes we do that just for fun…we are both home bodies, and after all it’s just preschool.  But I was looking for more of an excuse; a reason not to face the day with this heightened sensitivity.  Then I remembered what I had recently read in good old Dr. David’s workbook.  If you want to make progress, you have to practice. Even on the “bad” days. So on we went.

While buckling my sweet, smiling girl into her car seat, a pang of profound sadness came over me.  This happens sometimes when I look at my happy, joyfully fearless children.  Especially Allie.  She has an extra dose of fearless.  It sounds contradictory to how one should feel when realizing your children are happy.  But I instantly mourn for my joy.  I miss the childlike joy that comes so easily to them.  I try to let that go as I keep talking to my silly girl, trying to siphon her joy instead of mourning my own.  The a-hole brain loves when you get self-absorbed.

So I sat through an extra-long carpool line (an occasional panic trigger) with flying colors. Kissed my sweet girl good-bye, and then knew what I needed to do.  I had 3 hours to kill.  It was time to practice.

Dr. David recommended an hour every day, so I would shoot for that.  Time to take to the highway.

I didn’t fully go into my first full panic attack on the highway, but I will brief you.  I had been experiencing waves of panic while driving on the interstate, but nothing full-blown.  Enough to start the ball rolling.  I had full-blown panic in other areas, but highway driving was relatively minor.  I had always loved driving.  It gave me such a sense of freedom.  I would usually offer to drive on road trips with friends, and have even driven cross-country multiple times.  These are some of my best memories.

I had been nervous off and on driving until I became pregnant with my first, Jack.  My anxiety completely disappeared for the entire pregnancy. Blame it on hormones or first-pregnancy excitement, but it was great.  It was postpartum that put me into a tailspin.

I think I was struggling for a while and just didn’t accept it.  Don’t get me wrong, having a newborn is wonderful.  But stir in an overwhelming sense of responsibility, navigating work/motherhood, and total lack of sleep, and you have a recipe for disaster. At least if you are susceptible to anxiety and panic.

When Jack was about 7 months, I was heading to Lake Oconee to my in-laws house for Labor Day weekend.  We were going with a bunch of our friends, and I was excited. Granted, I was the only one with a baby, but we could still have fun, right? I drove up early to help get the place ready.  Me, Jack in his infant seat, and Bear, our sweet little dog, who loves riding in the car. Friday afternoon traffic on a holiday weekend in Atlanta is never a walk in the park, but it was never an issue for me. Until that afternoon.  Traffic on 285 was at a standstill, and I was smack in the middle lane.  I’ll never forget how beautiful of a day it was; blue sky and abundant sunshine. Sadly, driving on days like this triggers my anxiety now, thanks to this memory. All of a sudden, I feel the wave coming on.  I struggle to calm myself, grasping mentally for something to stop it.  My breath quickens, my heart races, my body tenses up and tingles.  I start to leave my body.  Besides feeling like I’m suffocating, the disassociation  is always the scariest for me.  You literally feel like you aren’t in control of yourself anymore, like you are literally going crazy.  When you have your precious baby boy in the backseat, this is only more agonizing.  You are his mother and his protector.  You feel scared not only of the attack but for not keeping your child safe.  Looking back as an observer, you realize that your a-hole brain is just telling you stories.  But in the moment, especially when you are unaware of the panic trick, it is absolutely horrifying.

So I call my husband, bless his heart.  He is a tough love kind of guy.  So he just tells me, “Babe, you can’t freak out! You’re on the highway!”.  Thanks my love.  My thoughts precisely.  He does the best he can with me, and has learned along with me in my journey.  But I think men hate when they can’t do anything to fix the problem.  It’s against their “manliness” code. So I quickly say good-bye, continue freaking out, but can’t exit anywhere, so I just bear it until I reach the next exit.  I pull over in a Wal-Mart parking lot and eventually calm down.  My mother-in-law (who has obviously heard from my hubby) calls and I just start to cry.  I do remember that the crying felt so good. Most people who suffer from panic disorder try to hold in their emotions, instead of letting it go.  But in my mind, I was traumatized.  Driving has never been the same since.

Well, that wasn’t nearly as brief as I meant it to be. I did make it to the lake. The rest of the trip is a blur, but I surely didn’t die because of the attack.  But my emotions were so strong that the experience was tattooed on my brain and started years of avoidance in multiple driving situations. But I won’t go into all those now.

Back to this morning. Yes, I was having a bad day. Yes, I was scared.  I was twitching, rolling the window down, up again, changing the music, the AC…grasping for control.  The anticipatory worry was starting to sink in, but I remembered what the book said about it. Ignore the “what if” statements, and if they do enter your brain, try to humor them.  Basically make fun of them.  Whatever it takes to take away their power. The anticipation is way worse the the actual deed. Waiting at the stoplight to get on the ramp just plain sucks. No way around it. But it turns as all lights do, and I’m in it. No turning back.

My new friend Dr. David, in Panic Attack Workbook, stresses the idea of just letting the panic come. All your instincts tell you to fight it.  I’ve been fighting it for 12 years.  Until now. You are so used to fighting when a challenge arises in life, but the opposite rule applies with panic. Fighting it will make it worse.  So the panic comes.  I try to let it come.  My sensitivity is at a level 11, but I just let it float.  He talks about the AWARE method in his book, so I do that. I will post a link soon explaining this useful method. I practice my belly breathing, also something a learned in the book.  I have always heard to concentrate on my breathing to calm me, but I never knew the right way to breathe. Just like that, I’m driving on the highway. It’s a momentary relief, as I realize the challenge is to maintain this for AN HOUR. I’ve always struggled with not getting off at every exit (panic sufferers tend to feel “trapped” in situations where they cannot flee) but I push past the first exit. Then another. And another. My body feels like it’s on fire, buzzing with nerves. I’m crawling out of my skin. But I’m doing it. I’m practicing. I hate it, but I have accepted it.

If you drive far enough up I-575 on a clear day, you can see the silhouette of the Blue Ridge mountains. I decide this is my goal.  I float through the panic, still buzzing with awareness. But I press on.  At one point I start singing and roll the window down.  Positive driving memories come to mind…for a moment I’m back in high-school/college on a road trip. Relaxed and carefree.  I drive a particularly long stretch of highway and actually forget to panic about how far the exits are from each other. Progress.

I round a corner, and I am almost the only one on the road. Then I see the mountains. They are more beautiful that I remember. A wave of emotion comes over me, but not panic. It’s joy.   I can hardly remember the feeling of joy while driving.  I revel in it.

Having reached my goal, it’s time to head back.  I’ll have to pick Allie up soon. I turn around and go back, and then I remember the road construction. There are cement barriers, narrow lanes, traffic ahead. Waves of panic return.  I try to remember what to do, how to let it go. It’s harder on the way back. I’m mentally grasping for control.   I almost exit several times. But then I remember another tidbit from the book, when you are scared to do something, do it. There’s a super slow truck in front of me, but I am more scared in the left lane. Without thinking too much, I just do it. I switch lanes. It takes away the anticipation and gives me a much needed confidence boost.  Once I am there, I challenge myself to stay there. I stay there for several miles, until I finally reach the exit leading home.

So that’s it, right? I’m cured! Hardly. This was my first day of practice, and only with driving on the highway. Yes, I’m super proud of myself, (and I even had coffee this morning!!!) and I hope the confidence will help in other situations. But I have many, many more challenges ahead.

I know many of you are just sick at your stomach even thinking about facing your fears when it comes to panic. I still am. I have so much work to do.  Again, it has taken me 12 years to accept the idea of practicing.  I still take meds and will need more time to think of practicing without them. Today I did it without Xanax, which was huge.  I even dug into my purse for the bottle at one point. But I’m trying to teach myself that these things are just like Dumbo’s feather. He thought he needed the feather to fly, but turns out he did just fine without it.

I know you will be fine too. Good days, bad days, dizzy days…be thankful just for another day.