Cheers to us!

IMG_3210I am kinda depressed. And my anxiety is bubbling below the surface.

I am not sure where it all is coming from…nothing is new or different, but everything is harder. And more overwhelming. And irritating. Everything I do on a normal basis seems so difficult. Getting out of bed, work, parenting, making choices about simple things.

And so I think if I buy a bunch of new clothes I will feel better. And so I ordered a few things on line, but they have not arrived yet so I am not sure.

And I decided to watch some light hearted sitcoms and I laugh for a few seconds and then it is over and everything sinks again.

I ride on the waves of surface level emotions until I can curl up and just feel blah again. And nothing bad has happened. And nothing has changed in any crazy way. But my body does not believe me. It is just tired.

I just ran across an article about anxiety. “8 things only a person with anxiety will understand”. A couple of them really stood out to me:
1. Being anxious is more than just being stressed out: This is where the irrational piece comes in. I get stressed, trust me. But it does not fall in the same category as anxiety. Stress can be managed with a to do list and a good talk. Stress can be managed by doing. Anxiety is not rational. Anxiety does not stop when things are crossed of a list or a friend listens empathetically. Anxiety is. Stress is something that happens to you and anxiety is something inside of you. A part of you. You feel stressed, but you are anxious.
pill_bottle_sm2. The uneasy feeling that can come with a pill bottle: I love my pills. I have taken them for years. 9 years! There was a time I did not think I would need them forever. There was a time I kept them a secret. And then I embraced them. Cause they gave me my life back. But it is a reminder that I cannot have control of this. That despite positive self talk, journaling, deep breathing, self care etc, I will always be depending on those pills. Those pills are inevitably what will get me out of my occasional funks. Those pills have to be mentioned at every doctor’s appointment. A reminder of my mental illness, my diagnosis, No let me rephrase… a reminder of my normal… every day… even when I am feeling great. The difference between functioning happily and normally and full blown anxiety/depression/panic.

So I ate a frosty and French fries for lunch and then again for dinner. And then I got some wine and am waiting for it to chill in the fridge because wine is a little classier than fast food. And if I watch a documentary I can chalk this up to a cultural evening. And since all of these lame feelings are irrational, there is nothing rational I can do to make them go away, I might as well drink wine and watch documentaries. And as always, writing takes the edge off. It gives words and meaning and organization to the feelings, confusion and chaos inside of me. And maybe, just maybe, someone else out there gets it and we can be kindred spirits for just this moment. And if that is you, grab your glass and raise it high with me “Cheers to who we are and cheers to however we cope best!”



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