Loneliness and Anxiety

I was reading a devotional tonight and discovered a quote from Mother Teresa.


"Today a great disease is that feeling of terrible loneliness, the feeling of being unwanted, having forgotten what human joy is, what the human feeling is of being wanted or loved...there is a tremendous hunger and a tremendous feeling of unwantedness everywhere. And that really is a great poverty."

Mother Teresa's words hit right to the heart of what I think causes most of my anxiety. "Terrible loneliness, the feeling of being unwanted." These two feelings grip me, especially the loneliness. And, they cause me to forget "what human joy is." On days when I struggle to just put one foot in front of the other, the sense of loneliness makes me think I'll never feel joy again. Loneliness, and feeling unwanted, cause me so much anxiety that I can't imagine I'll ever look forward to anything or experience pleasure again. All I can see is a future of just putting one foot in front of the other as I go through life.

Where does that loneliness come from, I've wondered. I remember very little of my childhood, but would have said it was pretty normal if you asked me. But, as I've worked my way through EMDR therapy, I've discovered that I was a lonely child and that loneliness has stayed with me, even though now I'm wanted, loved, and cared for. And, that is "a great poverty."

The poverty of not feeling accepted, of feeling alone, stayed with me long after those things were no longer true. They became part of who I am. So, now I'm faced with the task of learning to accept and love myself. Because, no matter how much others love and accept you, until you love and accept yourself, the "great poverty" will stay with you.

Sometimes Jimmy Buffett is My Therapist

Once again, I've been neglecting my blog. If you're still reading it, thanks for sticking with me. To bring you up to date, I'm still doing EMDR therapy. It's getting easier, and I've worked through more of my unrealized grief, a lot of fear, and some pretty deep sadness. It's so worth the journey, though. And, the journey isn't over yet, but I'm living with less anxiety and more acceptance right now.

During some of the hard days over the past few months, I felt overcome with anxiety and was afraid
I'd never find pleasure in anything again. I'd try to comfort myself by remembering things I used to enjoy, and tell myself that the day would come that I'd enjoy them again. During one of those days I decided to turn on Jimmy Buffett. Jimmy used to cheer me up. And, that morning when I turned on my JB playlist I realized that sometimes he's my therapist.

A line I heard that morning suddenly seemed filled with meaning, even though I'd listened to the song a million times before. "If it takes all the future, we'll live through the past."* Sometimes our pasts are so painful, and fill us with shame, sadness, and fear that's so overwhelming that it stops us in our tracks. The past seems to rob us of our future. Sometimes I've felt like I couldn't put one foot in front of the other. But, as I hummed along that morning, I felt a slight lifting of that overwhelming despair. I started to think about the future a little differently, and with a little more hope. As long as I keep taking steps, even tiny ones, it will keep me from giving up completely. Every step moves me forward. And, maybe it will take all my future to live through what I experienced in the past, but as long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other, I'm OK.

Thanks for the therapy, Jimmy.

*If the Phone Doesn't Ring, It's Me
Jimmy Buffet, Will Jennings, Michael Utley
Last Mango in Paris, 1985
Margaritaville Discography
YouTube "If the Phone Doesn't Ring, It's Me

A New Kind of Therapy

Several times over the last two or three years, my regular therapist recommended that I try EMDR therapy. EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing and is considered to be an effective treatment for victims of trauma. I ignored my therapist's gentle suggestions and stayed with what I was comfortable with, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which is his primary treatment method. In my mind, EMDR wasn't going to help. I don't remember being a victim of a trauma. I mean, sure, I grew up in a dysfunctional family, but so did a zillion other people. And, yes, I have a lot of childhood amnesia, which is a symptom of trauma, but maybe there's just not that much worth remembering. And, then there's that icky, sad, anxious feeling I get whenever I think about what it was like when I was a kid, but surely, if I was a victim of a trauma, I'd remember it, right?

Finally, this year, with my anxiety at peak levels, I knew I had to try something new. My experience last summer with the CLARITY intensive outpatient program helped, but I was still having pretty severe anxiety, weird physical symptoms that my doctors couldn't explain, and it was starting to cause me to miss school and work. Until then, I'd never missed work because of anxiety. I'd always been able to tough it out. I was desperate to find something to help me before anxiety took control of my life. So, I asked my therapist why he thought EMDR would help, since I don't remember being a victim of a trauma. He told me that it has shown good results for people with anxiety and panic attacks and suggested that I just talk to an EMDR therapist on the phone and learn more. (My therapist doesn't do EMDR.) So, I agreed, he gave me a referral, I called the therapist, and got a lot of information. The EMDR therapist said he didn't want to waste my time or money if he didn't think EMDR would help, so he also got a lot of information from me. He got my permission to talk with my regular therapist, and a release from me so he could talk with the therapists at CLARITY. After several phone conversations and emails, he and I agreed to meet.

I was anxious (no surprise there, right?) when I went to my first session. We had a get-to-know-each-other conversation, paperwork, and some history to go over. After meeting him, I decided I wanted to continue with the therapy, and left with a lot of homework and an appointment in two weeks. My promise to myself was that I was going to be completely honest with myself and my new therapist during this process, something I don't think I've always done in past therapy. Some of my phobias, fears, physical sensations, and thoughts are so embarrassing that I don't want to admit them. And, sometimes, I feel like I'm making a big deal out of nothing, so I just don't bring things up. No more. So what if your therapist thinks you're crazy? Isn't that why you're going there?

I've had five sessions so far. Yes, they've been hard, and I've been disturbed by some of the things that have come up in our conversations. Some of them made my cry and I hate to cry. Today I had my first experience with the actual tactile stimulation that's used in EMDR. (Some therapists use eye movement, some use sounds, some use tapping, and some use vibration. Mine uses vibration.) And, yes, some images came across, and I had some uncomfortable physical sensations, but I knew I could stop at any time. I made it through, and feel like I'm making progress. I very much want to be better, to be less anxious, and I know it can take continuous work and practice. I'm willing to do it.

I found this website in case you want to learn more about EMDR. EMDR.com

Learning to Breathe

Most of the time, we don't think about breathing, right? We just go about our business and we're breathing. Oh, we might think about it when we hurry up a flight of stairs, or go out for a run (not that I'd know anything about that)! Maybe when we do yoga or meditate we'll focus on breathing. Or, if we have panic attacks, we might check our breathing. But, in general, it's safe to say we don't spend a ton of time thinking about breathing. We just do it.

Last week I was having an anxious week. I wasn't having any full-blown panic attacks, but my generalized anxiety was pretty strong. I felt tense, my appetite was poor, I had a sense of unease that I couldn't seem to escape. To top it off, my acid reflux was really terrible. I decided to see if I could find some yoga poses on YouTube that would help with acid reflux and digestion. Well, sure enough I found a great one. (If you happen to have acid reflux, also known as GERD, check out this link. Yoga for Heartburn with Adriene) And, like most yoga practices, this one began with taking deep breaths. As I began deep breathing, I noticed that I was so anxious I wasn't taking normal breaths. I was taking small, shallow breaths, and my body was a mass of tense muscles. I was holding my stomach, hips, and shoulders so tightly that they hurt. Of course, as I did the yoga poses, I began to breathe, relax, and lose the tension in my body, as well as helping the acid reflux.

The next day, I woke up with morning anxiety. As I did a few yoga poses to relieve the anxiety, I wondered why I never think to check on my breathing unless I'm having a panic attack. During yoga, when I breathe fully and relax my tight muscles, my anxiety lessens. Why not try to put this into practice throughout the day? Now, granted, I can't stop and do a yoga pose in every situation, unless I want to get some weird looks. But I can take full breaths and relax my muscles.

As the day went by, every time I started feeling the twinge that means anxiety is building, I reminded myself to breathe all the way down into my belly. I checked in with my body and deliberately relaxed my stomach, hips, and shoulders. I made myself relax into the anxiety instead of fighting it. The results were good. Instead of building up, the anxiety would start melting.

I've continued to practice this with good results. I've also starting checking with myself even when I'm not feeling anxious to see how I'm breathing. And, what I've learned is this- Most of the time, I take short, shallow breaths and my stomach, hips, and shoulders are sucked in tight. They actually hurt. But, stopping frequently to breathe fully and relax my tense muscles is helping reduce my anxiety. My appetite has improved, my sense of unease is less. I've even felt more energetic.

I think I'll continue to breathe. Breathe deeply and fully. I'll drop my shoulders, relax my stomach and hips. And, just breathe.

Winter Blues

This has been the longest, coldest, grayest winter I can remember. I live in the South. I'm not used to this kind of weather. But, I don't mind the cold so much. In fact, I kind of like it. What I don't like are the gray days. When late fall arrives and the days shorten, my anxiety increases. And, it's always a little more trouble to manage till the longer, lighter days of spring begin to arrive. In this year's seemingly never-ending winter, I've felt my anxiety symptoms increase, and I've also been tired and irritable. I've had to be more conscientious than usual about managing my anxiety.

The first step in making it a little easier to manage is recognizing and accepting that my anxiety is worse during the winter. It's a little less frightening when I remember that this happens every winter and that it's common, even in people who don't normally have depression or anxiety.

The second step is to not get lazy about using daily techniques to reduce anxiety and depression, like grounding, progressive muscle relaxation, gratitude, prayer, and exercise.

The third step is to keep moving. No matter how appealing it is stay curled up on the sofa with a blanket when I don't have to be somewhere, it's important to do things like household chores, errand running, or just getting out and going to a coffee shop to read or write. Being around other people helps alleviate the sense of isolation that anxiety brings.

The fourth step is to keep my body comfortable. Anxiety makes us tense, can cause stomach issues, body pains, and other physical symptoms. I take warm baths, go for short walks, see the chiropractor for adjustments, and get massages.

The fifth step is to get outside when the sun happens to shine. I've noticed that being in the sun, even for a short time, lifts my mood. If you can't get outside, try sitting near a window where you can see the light. Or, it's a little weird, but if it's too cold to want to be outside for long, I'll sit in my car in the sunshine for a bit and listen to the radio!

Other small things are helpful, too. For instance, staying at a comfortable temperature reduces my anxiety. I've noticed my anxiety symptoms increase if I have to be in an uncomfortably cold environment. Conversely, some places are kept too warm in the winter and can make me feel hot and anxious. If I dress in layers where I can stay reasonably comfortable wherever I go I'm less likely to get anxious.

Eating well is also good for anxiety. In the winter, we tend to eat more and eat heavier foods. Eating warm, comforting food is great for decreasing anxiety and depression, but overeating, eating foods that are high in sodium and sugar, and not getting enough fruits and vegetables can make my anxiety worse. We just bought a NutriBullet at our house and it's helped me be sure I'm getting enough green, leafy veggies during this cold, long winter.

As I wait for spring, I look forward to more daylight, warmer temperatures, and seeing the daffodils show their pretty faces. In the meantime, you'll find me staying warm, looking out the window in search of sunshine, and remembering I'm not the only one whose anxiety is worse in the winter.

My Tried and True Tool for Panic Attacks

There's one tool I always turn to when I'm anxious. It helps prevent panic attacks and shortens an attack if I'm having one. If I do it every day, or even a few days a week, it lowers my generalized anxiety. It's my go-to, tried and true, helps-every-time technique called Progressive Muscle Relaxation.

I heard about it years ago when my therapist recommended "The Anxiety and Phobia Workbook" by Edmund Bourne, which became my favorite book on anxiety. Although my therapist recommended reading the whole book, he specifically wanted me to learn how to use this technique. And, I've been using it ever since. Without fail, Progressive Muscle Relaxation provides me with some relief from both generalized anxiety and from panic attacks. It works best if I practice it a minimum of three times a week, more if my anxiety is acute. And, if a panic attack is starting, I've found that it reduces the symptoms and shortens the attack. In other words, I can keep it from turning into a full-blown panic attack, which I ALWAYS want to avoid.

Progressive Muscle Relaxation isn't new. It was developed in the 1930's by a physician, Dr. Edmund Jacobson, and originally had over 200 exercises to reduce stress. Thankfully, it doesn't take all 200 exercises to reduce anxiety; about 15-20 are commonly used. And, don't freak out over the word exercise. No work-out is involved. If you read my blog often, you know I'm not using something that involves a work-out...

So, how do you go about doing this amazing technique? It's pretty simple. It involves systematically tensing and releasing your muscles while breathing. You can do it lying down or sitting in a chair. If you're doing the whole series of movements it takes about 20 minutes, and a dim, quiet place is ideal. However, I've found doing even a few movements under the table at a business meeting or sitting on a plane can be helpful. I first learned to do it following the written instructions in the book, but now I use a guide that I downloaded. Actually, once you have it memorized you don't really need a guide. I just like the voice and the music.

To learn the technique you can click on this script I found online that was adapted from Edmund Bourne's book. Or, you can download a guide. The one I like is by Ken Goodman and I found it on the iTunes store. You can also get it from his website.

Let me know what happens when you try it. I hope it helps you as much as it's helped me!

Love and Anxiety

I thought I'd write about love since Valentine's Day is this week. Specifically, I want to write about how being loved has helped me with my anxiety. A bit of a love letter to my husband, actually.

It can't be easy to live with someone who has anxiety disorder. The panic attacks, the sense of doom, the phobias. It must all be hard to understand for someone without anxiety disorder. They even seem irrational to me, so I can't imagine how irrational they must seem to my husband. But, in spite of that, he's always ready to offer support. He's always available to listen or just pat my back. He never tries to tell me that it's all in my head, or that I need to get over it. He talks to me, asks me if I'm using my tools for managing panic, and even gets out a list I once gave him of things that help me when I have a panic attack. He's never once complained about the cost of therapy or trips to the ER when I was sure I was going to die. He's been to doctors and ER's with me and comforted me. He knows the situations that trigger my anxiety and helps me through them. He supports my decisions about my treatment. And, most importantly, when I have a tough time, he reminds me that I'll get through it and that he'll be there with me. He reminds me that we're in this together.

Love is a powerful tool for helping with anxiety. I'm thankful that I have my husband's love.

Grounding

Have you ever used a technique called "grounding" when you felt anxious? I learned about it when I was in the Clarity program that I mentioned in a previous blog. Grounding is a set of easy strategies that allow you to detach from emotional pain by focusing outward on the external world instead of inward towards yourself.  For me, it helps stop a panic attack from accelerating. It also stops me from ruminating or "catastrophising" when my thoughts start heading down their familiar, depressing paths.

Grounding gives you ways to detach yourself so that you can gain control over your thoughts and feelings. It anchors you to the present, to reality, and puts you at a healthy distance from the thoughts that create anxiety or depression. The best thing is that it's easy to do any time, any place, and no one can tell what you're doing. It also gives me immediate gratification by reducing anxiety or depression.

There are three ways of grounding: Mental, physical, and soothing. Mental works best for me, but I've described all three ways here so you can discover which is best for you. And, if you get bored easily, it's good to have options.

Mental grounding means focusing on your mind. Some ways to use mental grounding are:
~Describe your environment in great detail silently (or out loud if you're in a place where it's appropriate.) For example, "The walls are tan, there is a blue sofa with three red cushions, and a window with a green tree outside."
~Read something, saying each word deliberately. Or, say the letters of the words rather than reading the words.
~Count forward or backwards slowly, or say the alphabet.

Physical grounding is focusing on your senses. Some ideas for physical grounding are:
~Run warm or cold water over your hands. Focus on how the water feels on your skin.
~Grab tightly on to your chair as hard as you can. Concentrate on how the chair feels.
~Walk slowly, noticing each footstep and saying "left" or "right" with each step.

Soothing grounding is talking to yourself in a very kind way. To ground yourself with soothing you can:
~Say kind statements, either silently or out loud, almost as if you're talking to a child. For instance, "You're coping with this situation well," or, "You'll get through this because you're using all your tools correctly."
~Think of your list of favorites, like your favorite color, food, animal, season, book, or movie.
~ Remember the words to a comforting or inspiring song, poem, or quote.

Like anything else that's new, grounding takes a little practice. You can even practice when you're not feeling anxious or depressed, just to get in the habit. At first, try all the types of grounding to see if one is more effective than another. Since it's hard for me to remember things when anxiety or depression start to spiral, I also wrote down some grounding techniques on a card and keep it in my purse. And, just in case I don't have my purse, I put the same techniques on the notes app on my phone, since I never go anywhere without that! That way, if anxiety strikes, I'm prepared.

I hope this gives you a new tool to use if you start to feel anxiety or depression creeping up. Always remind yourself that anxiety and depression are feelings. They don't define who you are. And, if you keep using your tools, you will feel better.

Happy Holidays???

These days the pages of social media are filled with posts and pictures of holiday beauty, merriment, family, and faith. Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Google +...The list goes on. If you're looking at them, or even just reading good old-fashioned holiday cards or the ubiquitous family newsletter that's often sent this time of year, it may look like everyone's leading a lovely life. And, if you're a person with mental illness, you may wonder why you don't have all the joy that others seem to have. Or, you may feel jealous of all that happiness and wish you could feel it, too.

I am very fortunate, and I actually have a pretty lovely life. But, anxiety and depression sometime make it hard to feel the happiness that should accompany my life. The symptoms can blunt feelings of happiness. And, my medication causes a reduction of feelings at both ends of the spectrum. In other words, anxiety and depression are less, but also feelings of joy, excitement, and expectation are reduced. I really, really miss those super-excited, over-the-top, giddy moments.

But, when I start missing those moments, I take a breath, acknowledge that I miss them, and then replace those thoughts with gratitude that I'm not filled with anxiety. That I'm not deeply depressed. I remind myself that the more thoughts I have of gratitude, of happiness, of goodness, the greater chance I have of experiencing those feelings. And, every once in a while, I actually have a moment of super-excited, over-the-top, giddiness. When that happens, I savor it for all it's worth!

How Gratitude Relieves Anxiety

It's Thanksgiving today so I thought I'd write about, well, giving thanks. Or, in other words, gratitude.  Gratitude is defined as "the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful." That quality and feeling hasn't always been present with me. When I'm feeling anxious or depressed my mind always jumps on the well-travelled path of worry. The path of what-ifs. Of catastrophes and worst-case scenarios. I've travelled this path so often I've created "ruts in my brain." Ruts of anxiety. Of sadness. In my jittery life, I was sure if I thought about everything that could possibly happen, I could somehow be in control. I could stop the worst-case scenario. Then, my mind would think up a scenario I couldn't control. Panic! But, when I began to recognize that going down that path doesn't prevent bad things from happening, that I can't control everything, I needed to make a new path to travel. I needed to start creating new ruts in my brain. And the path I've chosen is gratitude.

I started thinking more about gratitude when I was in Clarity, the intensive therapy program I wrote about in my last post. One of the tools for recovery thinking that we learned was gratitude. Particularly, we learned about keeping a gratitude journal. Once a week we wrote down five things we were thankful for. When we started, it surprised me how little I was thinking about what I was grateful for. I was so focused on the worrying, the what-ifs, (see complete list above...) that my jittery brain had no time or energy for thankfulness. For my first journal entry I had to think really hard to come up with five things to be thankful for. I finally decided to start with the basics and I wrote down five things that, honestly, I have always taken for granted. Shelter. Food. Water. Car. Clothing. I wrote them down and was startled that the very act of writing them down warmed my heart. It also gave me a written reference so that when anxiety strikes I can pull out my journal and fill the ruts in my jumbled brain with thoughts of gratitude. And, amazingly, I saw how filling my mind with gratefulness left less room for thoughts that create feelings of anxiety and depression.

Each week it's easier to find five things I'm thankful for. Sometimes I can't limit it to five! And, now I make it a practice every day to remind myself that I need to look around and name the things that are good in my life. And, slowly, surely, the ruts in my brain are less full of worry and more full of gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Hello Again!

Well, it's been a while since I last posted, but I was inspired today by a friend who also has anxiety and depression. I was telling her about a three week intensive outpatient therapy program I did back in the summer called Clarity. Connecting Lives; Activating Resources; Integrating the Total You. It was a life changer. I don't actually like the phrase "life changer." It's overly dramatic and overused. But, Clarity really did give me some tools that changed the way I manage my anxiety and it has decreased to a much more comfortable level. (As if there's anything comfortable about anxiety disorder...) So, it was a life changer for me.

My therapist recommended the program because I was making a transition from employment to going back to school and, as much as I wanted to make this change, it was creating depression and anxiety. And, being me, I was in denial that the transition would cause me stress. I tend to think I should sail through everything without a bump. "I can handle anything!" "This is no big deal!" "I'm looking forward to this, why should I be anxious?" Wrong!! Like everyone, transitions (good or bad) create some anxiety. And, for me, that's usually not a little anxiety. I like to do it up right, with BIG anxiety, toss in some depression for good measure, and all the while tell myself I should be ashamed for not being able to handle it.

Many of the things I learned while in the Clarity program I already knew, but wasn't putting into practice. But, there was something about going to therapy three hours a day, four days a week, that made me focus and realize I could be so much better if I used all my tools. And, I picked up some new skills, too. The program is in three segments, one per week-Safety, Recovery Thinking, and Communication. Each day reminded me of the tools I already had and gave me some new ones to add. Here are some of the things I learned in Clarity:

Trust myself and other people who deserve my trust. It's pretty hard not to feel anxious if you don't think there's anyone you can trust.

Take good care of my body. Eating, sleeping, exercising, relaxing, in the proper amounts, all play a
big role in managing anxiety.

Deliberately change my emotional climate. I can choose to change how I react to the way I feel about things and I can change my thoughts.

Use grounding to detach from emotional pain and anxiety. There are three major ways of grounding-mental, physical, and soothing. I'll cover those is a future blog post. This was huge for me!

Thoughts and feelings are liars.

Constantly feed my soul. For me, this is deepening my relationship with God. This program isn't religion-based, but spirituality, however you view that, is part of it.

Feel gratitude daily. My life seems pretty awesome when I list out the specific things I have,
materially and otherwise.

Now that I'm back to blogging, I'll share more about some of these tools in future posts. I'm looking forward to your comments, and I'm glad to be back!

Is it Like Walking and Chewing Gum?

Like so many people who want to meditate, I find it hard to think about, well, nothing. The whole concept of clearing my mind is hard to grasp. How on earth do you stop your thoughts? My friend Christine and I were talking about this. She said she can't meditate because she can't turn off her "rat brain." Rat brain is an apt description if I ever heard one. Thoughts continually scurry through my head like rats in a maze. If I'm anxious, they scurry even faster. I told her to try 100 breaths meditation. I can do that because the breaths help me focus by counting. But, I told her, I really want to try this thing I've heard about called walking meditation. Somehow, I think I can clear my mind more easily if I'm up and moving.

So, a few days later, I decided to give it a try.  I had looked up "how to do walking meditation" and, armed with my newfound knowledge, I was ready to go. I walked out the front door and was hit with a blast of Tennessee summer humidity that made me quickly realize that walking at the nearby greenway would not be in my best interest unless I wanted to do a "melt"-itation. Determined that I was going to try walking meditation, I decided to drive to the community center in my neighborhood and use its walking track. Nothing I'd read said walking meditation HAD to be done outside! All you need is a place that's relatively quiet and peaceful. Feeling clever, I drove to the community center and went in, expecting only a few retirees to be there during the early afternoon hours. Wrong. I had conveniently forgotten that community centers, being the center of the community and all, have summer camp programs for school children. Really active, really energetic, really LOUD children. "Ok," I thought, "I'm still gonna do this. These kids aren't allowed on the walking track, so all I need to do is listen to meditation music to drown out the noise." I reached for my earbuds and realized I'd left them at home. I'd planned to walk on the greenway and listen to the sounds of nature. I thought, "I can still do this. Meditation is being mindful and in the present moment. That's all I have to do." Never mind that I have trouble meditating in the silence of early morning in my quiet bedroom with meditation music playing. I wanted to clear my mind now! I was determined to clear my mind now. I remembered that I was supposed to start a walking meditation by standing still and feeling the sensation of my feet firmly planted on the ground. I stood, I felt. Then inhale with one step, exhale with the next. I started. Step, step. Inhale, exhale. Repeat. Those kids were loud. They were filled with the exuberance of kids in the summer, released from sitting still and learning all day. They were alternately so cute to watch, or so irritatingly loud and annoying that I couldn't ignore them. My meditation goal was 15 minutes. "I'll never clear my mind for 15 minutes with all this noise and energy!" Then I remembered I was supposed to let thoughts pass through, bring my mind to the present, focus on the breath. OK, getting a little easier. Then without really even thinking about it, I realized that I was thinking, "walk, walk," with each step I took. My mind was clearing, staying in the moment. And, after two laps, without any thought at all, I ran a lap. My mind said, "step, step" with each running step I took. I would walk two laps, run one, totally mindful of the moment with nothing but the words "walk" and "step" in my mind. When my phone's timer went off I was completely surprised that 15 minutes had passed. I set it for another 15 and continued in my pleasantly cleared state of mind. I no longer heard the kids. I was no longer distracted by their darting, running, jumping, and game playing. I was just walking, running. And, meditating.

"Every path, every street in the world is your walking meditation path." Thich Nhat Hanh

                                                                     

Ending the Sabotage

Helen Keller said, “Self-pity is our worst enemy and if we yield to it, we can never do anything wise in this world.” Wise words from an amazing woman. I'll add to this and say that negative self-talk and self-abandonment are also our enemies. And, these three things can sabotage our ability to be confident and comfortable with ourselves. 

Self-pity makes us feel victimized, powerless, and out of control. It takes away from our capability to live a good life. It's good to feel sorry for yourself when something bad happens and acknowledge and accept your feelings. But, continuing in self-pity holds us back. As I've journeyed through life, I've had times when I felt sorry for myself because I have depression and anxiety, and it's created responses in my brain that made me feel helpless and trapped. And, even those who don't experience anxiety or depression know that feeling helpless leads to a lack of energy that holds us back from doing the things of which we're capable. 

I'm the queen of negative self-talk. It can be a product of self-pity, from hearing words that made us feel unworthy or useless, or, as in my experience, from being in situations where it was implied that we didn't measure up. You start to get what I think of as "ruts in your brain." A tiny rut is created when you hear words or experience situations that make you feel like you're not good enough. If you hear or experience it often, the rut grows deeper. Sometimes it comes from feeling sorry for yourself and feeling like a victim. Sometimes it's from the implication that we don't measure up. It can be from back-handed compliments like, "You're so pretty and polite that you don't need to be good at ..." My favorite scenario, which comes from my childhood (and was well-intentioned,) is this. You don't understand something, you ask a question, and there's a laugh. Then you hear, "It's complicated. You won't get it. But, I love you anyway."  And, you know that you'd be loved a whole lot more if you'd gotten it. At some point, you start believing all this stuff. The ruts in your brain get a little deeper every time you hear it. Eventually, when you start on something, the "ruts in your brain" give you a nagging feeling that you're not good enough to complete the task, much less succeed at the task. 

I'm also good at self-abandonment. I didn't figure out what I was doing to myself until recently, when I read Sally Brampton's book, Shoot the Damn Dog. A Memoir of Depression. (Just so you know, no dogs were harmed in the writing of the book. The dark dog refers to depression.) I tend to be more anxious than depressed (although I've experienced both) and Sally's journey has been through deep and severe depression. But, I recommend the book to anyone, and one page, that I've dogeared and read till it's a little grimy, is about self-abandonment. I'll take one quote that summed it up for me. "If somebody hurts you, and you pretend that you are fine, you abandon yourself." The passage, which includes a list of ways people abandon themselves, concludes, "You suffer from a failure of care." Some people don't care for themselves because early in life they weren't emotionally cared for and eventually began to feel unworthy of being cared for. Some people have relationships in their lives where there's an expectation of emotional care that doesn't happen. So, you stop caring for yourself. 

You sabotage your capability to feel well, to enjoy life as best you can, and to have career success, when you engage in self-pity, negative self-talk, or self-abandonment. And, whether you actually feel depressed and/or anxious, or just have a tough time achieving what you want to achieve, recognizing these behaviors is important. Even more important is taking steps to end these behaviors. Take those "ruts in your brain" and re-fill them with self confidence, positive and realistic self-talk, and self-care. Fill your social agenda with like-minded people who want the best for you. And, most importantly, fill your mind and soul with thoughts of your capacity to be "wise in this world." 

I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane...

In my imagination I'm a world traveler. I confidently jump on planes, trains, boats, and automobiles wearing a variety of cute travel outfits, appropriate for my exotic destinations. I stroll through the airport pulling my classic Hartmann tweed suitcase looking seasoned, confident, and a little excited about my next adventure. 

OK, here's the real world scenario. I enter the airport in a bundle of anxiety, heart racing, sweaty palms, obsessively checking my purse to be sure I have Xanax. I shakily make my way through checking my bag (OK, it's a Samsonite, not a Hartmann) and on through security I go, not like a world traveller headed on her next adventure, but like a woman walking to her cell on death row. The only thing similar to my imagination is the cute travel outfit appropriate to my destination. I have my rituals and they have to be done and somehow in my jittery mind I feel a tiny measure of comfort and protection. First water fountain inside security is where I take my Xanax. Don't want to take it too late. I want it to be working when I get on that plane. Don't want to take it too early. It might start wearing out before the flight is over. I get a decaf coffee. I wait till they are almost ready to call my flight and go to the bathroom. My rituals are done. I pray and walk down the jetway like a condemned woman. I fervently hope that my favorite seat by the window, just behind the wing, is available. My heart is pounding. I'm not sure if I'm more worried about the plane crashing or having a heart attack while in the air with no fully qualified medical personnel to save me. My terror begins to subside as I use all the tools I have to manage panic, but by the time we push back I'm sweaty palmed again, my heart is racing and negative talk is racing in my head. We roll down the runway and we're off, with my heart in my throat. When, miraculously, I don't have a heart attack and the plane doesn't crash on take off, I settle down. Oddly, I'm not very anxious once we're flying unless I see or hear something I think is weird. When they say we can turn on mobile devices and the flight attendants begin beverage service, my anxiety thinks everything is normal. 

Most of the time I fly with my husband. He's awesome. Before our trip he books the reservations, checks us in online, gets the boarding passes. He knows all the preparation increases my anxiety. He pats my hand on the way to the airport, understands my weird rituals, and supports me if I freak out. He never asks me to sit in the center seat even though he prefers the aisle. He knows I like the window and sits in the dreaded center seat so I can be in my safe spot.

We were on our way to Tampa to get on a cruise ship when I wrote this. I don't really love cruise ships, either, which added to my anxiety. I feel a little confined and think cruises are a bit cheesy. But, this was a family cruise with 15 of my in-laws, and we knew it would make my mother-in-law super happy if we went, so I decided to go. But, managing the anxiety wasn't easy. The night before our trip, I lay in bed for two hours with my heart pounding. Two rounds of Progressive Muscle Relaxation plus a guided sleep meditation and my pulse was still 92. I forced myself to stop obsessively checking my pulse. Finally, I drifted off to strange dreams of flying to Alaska in a tiny plane. 

After a rocky morning of getting ready to board the plane, and a short, uneventful flight with my sweet husband, we landed. I had used all my coping techniques, I arrived unscathed, and as we headed to baggage claim, I felt like that confident world traveller who's living within me.

P.S. I few weeks after writing this, I found Tim Benjamin's website Fearofflyingschool.com with tips to reduce anxiety when flying. I thought my readers would like the tips!

And So It Began

Panic attack: "A panic attack is a sudden episode of intense fear that triggers severe physical reactions when there is no real danger or apparent cause. Panic attacks can be very frightening. When panic attacks occur, you might think you're losing control, having a heart attack or even dying."  Mayo Clinic

I still remember my first panic attack. I was on a date in a restaurant. There were several of us. I don't remember who my date was, or who the other people were. But, I remember the panic attack. I thought I was dying. I didn't want anyone else to know. I went to the bathroom. I was sick to my stomach. I forced myself to leave the bathroom when I didn't die and I acted like nothing was wrong. I was 21 years old. It was the beginning of my jittery life.

Depression and anxiety have been part of my life for 33 years. Sometimes it's barely been there. One time it was so bad I was in a psychiatric hospital for  two and a half weeks. It always centers around thinking I'm going to die. I'm going to die before I get everything done.

Even after 33 years, and countless hours of therapy, and drugs that work well, my logical mind and my anxious mind don't work together sometimes. I'll use every tool I've learned, I'll know I'm having a panic attack, but my anxious, obsessive thoughts take over and I'm convinced I'm dying. It's the most frustrating aspect of my mental illness. Knowing something is true, but not believing it.

It's taken  my whole adult life to learn to manage this illness. I thought for so long that if I could just figure out what happened in my past to make me so anxious, that I would be cured. No more panic attacks! I'd be like "everyone else." I was convinced if I just got to the bottom of what happened in my childhood that makes me depressed and anxious, that it would go away. In spite of several excellent therapists who helped me learn behaviors to manage the anxiety, I continued to believe that if I could pinpoint what happened that caused me to feel anxious and depressed, it would miraculously stop. I didn't want to manage my anxiety. I wanted to be well!

Then, there's medication. I've been on anti-depressants for most of my adult life. There have been some great ones, there was one that had weird withdrawal symptoms if I took it even a couple of hours late, there have been some that helped the depression but weren't so great with anxiety. There have been times when I thought I didn't need medication anymore. And, finally, five years ago, after going off medication and having one of the worst periods of depression and anxiety I've ever had, I accepted it. I will never be able to be off medication. So, then I wanted the medication to take care of my problem. I wanted to take my medicine and be well. I thought, hoped, wished, that I could be like "normal people" if I just faithfully took my medicine.

A few months ago I was going through a transition in my life. My medicine wasn't doing all I wanted it to do, which was to allow me to breeze through this change. Then, I had another bump in the road, then another, smaller bump, but a bump nonetheless. Anxiety, depression, panic attacks! Extra visits to the therapist. And, in the midst of a therapy session, something I'd heard a million times before suddenly made sense. I need to take care of myself all the time, not just during the times when I'm overwhelmed, anxious, and depressed by life.  Life is full of transitions and bumps in the road. But if I take care of myself every day, when the bumps come along, they won't be quite as scary.

I have mental illness. I won't be "cured." I can have a fantastic life. I can be a happy, productive, successful person who happens to have an illness. And, that requires me to take care of myself. To believe that I'm worthwhile enough to make self-care a priority. And, to finally admit, out loud to other people, that I have a jittery life.