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.

Go Away

Anxiety, you're a sneaky fellow. You come slipping in when I'm feeling just fine. You, with your sense of dread and doom. You, telling me to be afraid of things that aren't there. You, telling me that something is wrong when it's not. You make my body feel all sorts of things that may or may not be real. You take all the pleasure out of things I'd normally enjoy. You make my mind focus on things that might go wrong. You take away my appetite, you cause my heart to race, and my throat and chest to hurt. Maybe you're just being overprotective, like a mama who's too worried about her child. But, I don't think so. I think you're mean. I think you're trying to make my life difficult. I think you just want to see if you can win with your scary tactics and fake frights. But, you won't win. I'm tougher than you. God made me stronger than you. I hate you. Go away.

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.

Friends Can Help

Honestly, last week was rough. I had a panic attack at home that was so bad it made me miss work, which is really rare for me because I'll usually tough it out. I had some of my hardest tests so far at school. I was on antibiotics because I was sick, and I have a phobia about taking medicines, particularly antibiotics. (More on that in a future post.) I was getting ready to leave on a trip, and travel can make me anxious, even though I love it. And, my husband was out of town all week, and he's my biggest cheerleader, confidant, and supporter. Shew.

On Friday I took my last test before spring break and felt really confident about how I did. We got out of school early and my husband was going to be home by evening! I felt pretty good as I left school on a beautiful, sunny, early spring afternoon. I was ready for lunch followed by an afternoon of getting my fingers and toes done by my favorite nail tech, who's also a good friend!

I'd really been struggling to eat the whole week. When I'm anxious, my normally good, (OK, way too good) appetite disappears and it's hard for me to eat anything. And, while I need to drop some pounds, not wanting to eat anything is not the way I want to do it. So, I was pretty excited that I felt hungry at lunchtime Friday. I stopped at my favorite organic grocery store for one of their yummy sandwiches and ate almost all of it when I got home. I gave my house a quick cleaning and noticed I had heartburn. I hate heartburn. It makes me have panic attacks because I'm sure it's a heart attack. I ignored it, and left for my mani/pedi appointment.

I was having a good time chatting with my nail tech friend and getting my pedicure, when I suddenly felt dizzy. It only lasted a second, but on top of my heartburn, that was all it took to start a panic attack. But, I wanted to manage it without taking my medicine. I didn't want to have to tell my friend I needed to take a pill. I was embarrassed. And, I was sure, as usual, that I was having a heart attack.

I used the many anxiety-management tools in my toolbox and the panic was subsiding as I moved from the pedicure chair to the manicure chair. I picked my nail color and felt like I was going to avoid a full blown panic attack. After all, the manicure is actually my favorite part. I nearly fall asleep when my hands are being pampered. But, I started feeling anxious again. I just knew I was having a heart attack. I tried grounding, I tried re-thinking. Finally, I had to tell my friend I was having a panic attack. I was so embarrassed. Even though she knows I have anxiety disorder, I felt humiliated having a panic attack right in front of her. But, telling her was the best thing I could have done.

She was kind. She was understanding and compassionate. She cancelled her next client, in spite of my protestation that I could go home. She has a private room where she does nails, so she suggested I try a couple of yoga poses, and spread a towel out so I could do them. She talked about when she herself had a couple of panic attacks. She even offered to drive me home, or to a hospital if I felt I needed it. Her calmness, her willingness to help, were what I needed. I took my medicine, I did the yoga poses, I talked with her about how hard it is to struggle with this disorder. After a while she finished my nails, gave me a hug, and I was able to go home feeling better.

I learned a lesson that day. It's one thing to talk to people about having anxiety disorder when I'm not having a panic attack, because people can't see what's happening. It's easy to write a blog about it because no one can see me have a panic attack through my blog. But, when you're having a panic attack in front of someone, it's humiliating. You want to run. But, the lesson I learned is that people can be kind. They can help.

Many thanks to my friend for helping me. I'm so lucky to have her for a friend.

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.

The Doctor is In

One of the worst triggers for my anxiety is a visit to the doctor. To make it worse, I worry obsessively about my health. Back in the day they called it being a hypochondriac. These days, the fancy term is "medical anxiety." Well, let me tell you, I've got medical anxiety in every sense of the term. I'm anxious  that there's something physically wrong with me, and I'm anxious if I have to go to the doctor to be checked out.

One of the worst parts of having anxiety and panic attacks is that most of the symptoms are also symptoms for scary stuff, like heart attacks and strokes. Chest pain, tingling hands, numbness, feeling like you can't breathe, dizziness, nausea. The list goes on. Google those symptoms and you're going to find things you don't want to have. And, when anxiety starts to spiral, your mind starts saying things like, "This feels different than it ever has before." Or, "This time there really is something wrong."

Also, for those of us with medical anxiety, every twinge, every slight pain, every twitch or muscle jump takes on significance. We constantly scan our bodies for changes, are hyper-vigilant about our breathing and heartbeat. We have unrealistic expectations about how good we should feel, so that if we catch two colds in a row we think it's because of some scary, underlying disease.

The question is, what do you do? If you run to the doctor with every symptom, you'll be broke, because the doctor will be professionally obligated to run tests because the symptoms are similar to the ones for serious physical illnesses. And, believe me, I've done this. Or, if the thought of going to the doctor creates so much anxiety that you can't bring yourself to go, you don't get the medical care you need. I've done that, too.

The best answer I've come up with is to find medical professionals that understand anxiety disorders and are willing to work with you. This has meant being very honest with my medical doctors and their staffs, being able to tell them about my anxiety without being worried they'll think I'm a lunatic, and then very honestly describing any symptoms. I've been happily surprised that most of the medical professionals I've used have been understanding about anxiety and have answered my questions patiently. They've explained why I should or shouldn't have tests or medications, and have understood that to treat me properly they also have to take my anxiety into consideration. It's also meant finding doctors who have great phone nurses who're able to talk with me and (with the doctor's input) determine if I need to come in. In fact, some of my doctors take the time to call me personally. This eliminates a lot of unnecessary office visits and alleviates a lot of my health fears.

Does this mean I'm cool, calm, and collected at the doctor's office? NO! I'm a mass of jittery nerves. But, when they call my name and I head back, I remind both the staff and the doctor that I have anxiety about being there. And, it's almost always a part of the discussion I have with the doctor. After all, they always notice that my pulse is fast and my blood pressure's up! And, almost without fail, everyone is calm, reassuring, and understanding. No one has acted like I'm a lunatic, that they're annoyed with me, or that it's "all in my head." And, if they did, I'd change doctors...

How Do You Feel About the New Year?

New year. Fresh start. Resolutions. Hmmm. It seems this is the time of year when people are setting goals, planning, and looking forward. For me, it can be a time of sadness. I tend to look at the year that has passed. It makes me feel I'm running out of time to accomplish what I want to do, so I'm overwhelmed by all I didn't get done. Then, focusing on new goals becomes exhausting. And, there I go again, with the ruts in my brain looking at the gloomy side of things. So, what can I do to cope with the anxiety this thinking creates?

After looking through my mental box of tips and tools, I came up with a plan to cope with my new year's anxiety. I decided to live in the present. Anxiety (depression, too) can be caused by living in the past or worrying about the future. So, when I have thoughts about the things I didn't accomplish, I can put each thought on a leaf and let it float down the river and out of my head, figuratively speaking. When I start to worry about how I'll get new things done, I can remind myself of this quote from Thomas Jefferson. "How much pain they have cost us, the evils which have never happened." I can get up from my wall of worry and over-thinking and get busy with a simple task. Almost every time I focus on a task, I notice my anxiety is less, or even goes away, because it's very hard to think about two things at once. (Side note-that's why multi-tasking is actually almost impossible.)

I'm already feeling better, because now I have a plan. A very simple plan that is SMART. Strategic, measurable, actionable, relevant, and timed, as all good plans should be!

I'd love to know how you're coping with the coming New Year. Do you have a plan? How do you feel? I hope to see some comments, and if you have any tools that work for you, please include those, too!

Rather than saying 'Happy New Year," I think I'll say to my readers, "Here's to a new year that's right for you, with less anxiety and more peace."

Good Grief

For those of us with anxiety and/or depression, grief can be hard. Unbearable even. It can send us into a downward spiral that we want to avoid at all cost. So, I typically choose not to grief. Sounds like the perfect solution, right? Well, not actually. Grief is part of the healing process that needs to occur after a loss. Any kind of loss, whether it's the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, or losing a job, can and should cause us to grieve. Clearly, I'm not an expert on grief, but I used some tools that helped me when we chose to have our beloved black lab, Coal, put down the Friday before Thanksgiving.

Most of us aren't comfortable with death, but talking or hearing about it creates true anxiety for me. Things that I can't control trigger anxiety in me, and death is something I feel like I have no control over. So, any reminder of our mortality can create anxiety for me. So, when it became evident Coal's condition was deteriorating, I began to worry. It reminded me we all will die and that I will die. It made me sad because we'd had Coal since the day he was born. He'd been part of our life for almost 17 years. It reminded me of when we had to have his mama put down. It reminded me of when we took my own mama off life support. It made me think of my beloved Nanny's death. Anxiety mounted. I don't like like to think about people or pets after they die. Remember, I don't grieve, so I don't reach a point where I can remember them with any joy or peace. I don't understand people who tell stories and talk about those they've lost. I just try not to feel anything. If I start feeling anything I might not be able to stop. I might just grieve forever. The pain won't stop. I'll be stuck with fear and sadness forever.

When we began to talk about having Coal put down, the sense of dread and anxiety started. But, this time, I started using some tools and techniques to help me. Reality based thinking helped. I felt like I had no control over the situation, but was that really true? I could make choices about Coal's comfort, quality of life, and how he was euthanized. I could practice acceptance by living more comfortably in the unpredictability of life and acquiring a willingness to take life as it comes. I could remind myself that feelings don't last forever and that I can let go of my sadness. And, I could practice gratitude by being thankful for all the years we had with our sweet old doggie.

As I watched our adult son say good-bye to a dog he'd known most of his life, I cried, but was able to remember the two of them playing together instead of shutting down the memory for fear of the pain. As I talked with our daughter who lives in another city, I cried, but believed her when she said we were making the right decision. As we watched Coal peacefully slip from this life, I cried, and was a little less afraid that I would cry forever. And, as I write this post, I'm crying, but know that the tears will stop, that the feelings will pass, and that grief can be good.

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!

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

                                                                     

Let the Sun Shine

I forget that it's OK not to worry. Somewhere along the way in life, I got the idea that if I worried about all the bad things that could happen I could somehow prevent them from happening. I also got the idea that if I wasn't worried about something, it was a guarantee that something bad would happen. So I worried as a preventive measure. I also refused to enjoy anything too much. Enjoying something was a sure fire way to make something bad happen. Stare blissfully at the waves of the ocean while on vacation? Ooops. Better not get too relaxed. You just have to go back to work next week. Gaze with amazement while one of my babies slept? Stop it. She could get a terrible disease and die and you won't get to see her grow up. Breathe in that wonderful new car smell as you drive off the lot? Don't do it. You could lose your job next week and not be able to make the car payments. It was like always having a black cloud over my head. It was the "if I worry enough about something I can prevent it from happening" cloud. Or, maybe it was the "if I don't enjoy this very much it won't hurt so much when I lose it" cloud. I had a huge expectation that things would go wrong. I was the epitome of that expression "I feel like there's a black cloud over my head."

The funny part of it is that, of course, none of this was true. Worrying about whether something bad will happen doesn't prevent it. And, enjoying something can't make something bad happen. Being on high alert for the bad in things just makes you anxious, depressed, and not able to function at the capacity of which you're able. It means you can't be fully present for your job, your family, your relationships, or, most importantly, yourself.

Now I've learned that letting the sun shine around my black cloud is not only OK, it can actually make the dark clouds disappear. Sure, bad things are going to happen. There will be times when there are dark clouds in your life, but when they're not there, enjoy it. Don't worry about when the next storm will come. When I feel those clouds appearing without good reason, I literally start to visualize how it looks when the sun begins to peak out after a storm. I imagine the warmth and beauty of a pretty day and I let the sun shine into my jittery life.