The Weight of it All

You know that weight that comes to crush you – that weight when you have so much to do, and you’re stressed, tired, and just generally overwhelmed, and then this weight comes to visit and all of a sudden you don’t do anything? You’re just done. You decide that you’re not going to do any of it because you’re just so overwhelmed. And then you feel bad about yourself because you haven’t done anything off your list, or anything at all really except watch reruns of a tv show that you’ve seen a million times before. That weight can be soul crushing.

Anxiety is that weight for me. Oh sure, I get that weight like everyone else gets it. I get it when I’ve said yes to too many things, and when I have so much to do that I just tap out.

But then.

Then I get it in the form of anxiety. All of a sudden leaving the apartment is impossible because the weight is too heavy – because panic is too close. Eating right is not going to happen. Exercise? Nope. Then to distract myself from it I read. And I read a lot. And then when I finish reading the anxiety is usually still there waiting, but now it’s brought a friend. Self-loathing because I didn’t do anything that I was supposed to. Because I haven’t been productive. Because I’ve wasted time and wasted life doing nothing because this weight is so encompassing.

So what do you do? God, I wish there was a button I could push, a cure all pill that I could take to make the anxiety just go away permanently. But, as we all know, life doesn’t work like that now does it?

On the bad days, the weighted days, I give myself permission to do what I can and to not do what I can’t. It seems like a silly small thing, but it helps. Some days are just not going to be good days. And that’s okay.

And on the good days – the days when I feel light and ready to tackle every problem – I cherish them. Because they are just so damn good. And they remind me that even though sometimes you have bad days, that’s okay. Because there is always a good day coming your way.

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Apartment Stories: Anxiety

Anxiety is a rather constant companion of mine. It use to be an every wakeful moment companion, a not let me sleep companion, and then it also use to bring its close cousin panic attack to the party. Thankfully, those days are behind me (for the most part), and anxiety only usually shows up occasionally, for small doses of time. Then this past week happened.

This past week –  last Sunday night and not stopping until about Friday evening, was rather brutal. Anxiety was with me more often than not. Doug, got sick last Sunday night, Monday we got our apartment sprayed for cockroaches. Those seem like insignificant things in the grand scheme of things – and they are…now. At the time it was anything but.

See, I have a phobia of throwing up. And Doug was throwing up. Was I there for him and taking care of him when he was sick – of course. Did I lose it thoroughly afterwards to my anxiety? Yes. Did I have a panic attack? No. Years ago I would have. So small steps in the right direction.

Then the spraying of the apartment. I had a sick boyfriend sleeping finally, and a piece of paper saying that I didn’t have to leave the apartment. Turns out the paper I had was wrong and we did have to leave – for 6 hours. Packed up sick boyfriend and we all went to my grandmother’s. Oh, and did I mention I was working from home that day too?

The next 48 hours were spent with me worried – irrationally worried – that I was going to get sick. Was I? No. Even writing that sentence makes me a little anxious because I’m afraid I’m jinxing myself. Doug had night shifts later in the week, and I slept over at my parent’s place after finding another cockroach after the spray and losing it. Because, hey, I hadn’t really been sleeping well. You can’t really sleep if you can’t really stop shaking.

The big triggers for me from this week that set me off were the throwing up and the change of my routine. Everything in the kitchen was in the living room and dining room, the stuff from the bathroom was in the hall and the bedroom. The apartment was in disarray, and I felt like I was in disarray already. Small drops of water as it were, that easily turn into a flood.

Now reading all of this from my calm mental and relaxed state – I know that I sound irrational. And that’s because it is. Anxiety is irrational. A switch gets flipped, a light goes off and all of a sudden your flight or fight response is triggered for no rational reason. And it can (as it did in this case) go on for days. It can be terrifying when you can’t easily calm down, and there’s no rational way to explain why you can’t.

So how did I calm myself?

As the week when on it started getting a little less on its own. I helped it along by meditating a lot. Meditating slows down your wayward thoughts, makes you breathe deeper, forces you to calm down slowly. I use the app Insight Timer. A friend of mine recommended it and it’s wonderful. There are hundreds (if not thousands) of meditations all for free. It’s fantastic.

I walked. Doug and I (when he’s not on night shift) taken 30-60 min walks around the neighbourhood. The exercise is light, but it gets you moving, gets your endorphins running, and by going with Doug it gave me someone to talk when my brain started running away with me again.

I also purposefully made this weekend my “reset weekend”. Doug and I put the kitchen and bathroom back together because a) it had to happen and b) it made me feel so much better. Friday night I went to bed at 9:30 and slept for about 9 hours. I woke up feeling refreshed. Saturday I made my day of rest – I cooked myself French toast for breakfast, I read, I relaxed. Sunday, was (is) more productive as we cleaned the apartment, and I sat down at my laptop to work. But even so, Sunday (today) is being approached with a relaxed productivity. Things need to get done, but there’s no racing around. It’s almost like nesting or puttering.

So here’s what I’ve been reminded of this weekend. Life happens, and it’s okay to fall apart after you’ve handled the important things (like taking care of a sick boyfriend), and it’s also okay to take the time to reset yourself. We’re not machines, and sometimes we don’t function like we think we should. And that’s all okay. We just have to take care of ourselves, ask for help when we need it, and most importantly try to remain positive that the irrational cloud that’s hanging over us from time to time isn’t a permanent fixture in the skyline.