As we pulled up to the holiday house located at the beautiful Sunshine Coast, I knew I could completely unwind. It was just Dave and I for 2 and a bit days while Flynn was being babysat by his grandparents and then Flynn came to join us for the remaining 3 days.
The beach shack was located right on the beach at Warana. I could hear the waves splashing up on the shore. Like a lullaby hushing me, it soothed any anxiety I was feeling. Then we settled in for a night of watching the Olympics! I hardly get to watch t.v (well I choose not to) but this felt so good.
As women with anxiety it is so easy to hold onto everything that comes into our lives.
Sometimes it can be physical, like keeping that battered folder with ‘that Dawson’s creek guy’ on it because it reminds you of the ‘good ole days’ before anxiety hit you in the guts and made you run for the toilet.
Perhaps it’s just the question that keep peppering you after that event you went to on the weekend:
‘Oh my gosh I hurt her feelings. She was scowling at me after I offended her.’
‘I said something stupid.’
‘Ugh I rambled on and on again when she said nice dress. Why did I go into the price of the dress, where it was made, and how stoked you were that it was ethically sourced?’
Throwing the heavy nappy bag (Adidas sport’s bag cause I’m that trendy) over my shoulder, keys in hand, toddler on hip, I open the door to head out to my brow waxing appointment. (I know, exciting huh).
As I open the door the waft of Flynn’s poo hits me in the face.
Dudeeeee. Really? Now? I’m running JUST right on time to make it to my appointment.
I unlock the door, throw the bag down and head back in to clean the wee toddler.
Realise there are exactly 2 wipes left.
Journalling is one of those things that really helps me dial down my anxiety and helps me to process my emotions.
It’s also one of those activities that can bring up the most resistance. Like, I’ll go and make a cuppa, watch t.v, and scroll through Facebook before I’ll attempt it.
Yet it’s the one thing that really helps me to sssshhh my mind and helps give me crystal clear clarity (boo yeah on my English teacher alliteration skills there hey?)
One week into taking my anxiety medication and I’m feeling great. Now that my energy levels have perked up I can now concentrate on incorporating other beautiful rituals into my day to continue to nourish my body, mind and spirit.
Sometimes it takes getting away, even for a day to be intentional about mindfulness.
Mindfulness, it’s a buzz word lately isn’t it? To the anxious this means to focus on something else outside of the anxiety.
As I sat on my verandah, staring out in the distance in a haze, I realised that I had done all that I could.
For over a year now I’ve been trying to get my energy back. I’d put it down to having a baby, hormones and sleep deprivation.
I tried natural remedies, counselling, exercise and eating well.
And although they worked I still felt exhausted. Like, I didn’t have any energy to muster daily tasks on some days.
At church this weekend one of the Pastors gave a case study about rats and addictions. During one study the rats were placed in solitary confinement and given the options of two bowls to drink from. One with clean water, the other laced with heroin. Which one do you think the rats gravitated to? 100% of the rats went for the water laced with drugs and they died. The conclusion was that drugs can be seductively addictive purely by its mere exposure.
It’s time for me to answer the whole where does faith come into play when it comes to anxiety. I’m going to be using the word God throughout and my own experiences as a Christian but feel free to use the term that feels most comfortable for you.
This has come about because I’ve been reading and hearing a few things lately that anxiety is something that can simply be just prayed away. That somehow if you laid all of your burdens at Jesus’ feet everything would just magically disappear and let’s face it, that’s just one up from throwing a coin backwards into the Trevi Fountain and making a wish.
You’re here because you’re anxious. I get it. Your mind just won’t switch off. It’s like episode after episode of Big Bang Theory, it just keeps going (if you live in Australia you’ll know they have been playing repeat after repeat). Or the Energizer Bunny. It just keeps going and going…
Well I’m going through my 3rd cold in most recent weeks and I’ve also lost my voice. It is frustrating to say the least. I don’t want to harp on about it week after week on the blog but at the same time I feel like I’m supposed to learn this one vital lesson:
Warmth floods through your body from head to toe. Your heart is beating in your chest and you can hear it thumping in your ears like drums at a heavy metal concert. Your friends are talking to you but you can’t hear them because you’re trying to focus your eyes on them but the whole room is swimming (except you feel like you’re floundering in the deep waters).
You excuse yourself for the bathroom. The questions start flying in from their various destinations (and never from tropical locations like Tahiti). Did I drink that champagne on an empty stomach? Am I still sick from that cold I picked up from the kids?
Then the doubts start coming in as well and crowding your seat on the plane that those questions came flying in on. You know ‘I didn’t think I had anything to be anxious about this week…’ , ‘I thought I was doing well’ or ‘Am I even going to be able to make it through the dinner.’