Tag Archives: anxiety

WHEN THINGS FALL APART

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Some days are harder to show up than others. I meant to come yesterday. When that didn’t happen I was trying for this morning but somehow I lost my way here. Distractions, thoughts, feelings, putting off and avoidance all contribute. It is always so much easier to go with the flow, not commit and not show up. But I am finally here in the after glow of supper and wine.

I have to admit that I’m feeling the boogeyman again.He shows up now and again. I’m awashed with the heebie jeebies. I’m ok though. I’m not off and running away to anywhere. I tell myself to stay. It’s just sensations.  I’ve been practicing and applying mindfulness. It’s such synchronicity that I am reading Pema Chodron’s When Things Fall Apart at this time, too. She tells us that fear and anxiety are all part of being human along with all the other emotions. They all serve a purpose. I am learning to see my feelings in a different way, trying not to label them as good or bad and not trying to rid them.  I am the guest house as in Rumi’s poem.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

I could say that I have been falling apart for quite awhile now. I do not consider it a bad thing. There was great pain with the shattering of what I was that no longer worked. Pain is a great teacher. It is also very cleansing. It sweeps out all the debris. After the pain subsides, I feel such sweetness and I can see so much clearer. It is a time for reconstructing, putting back the parts of myself that I like and the parts that works. This is not to say that I will live happily ever after or that the boogeyman is vanquished forever. I am sure there will be more falling apart. The next time the boogeyman comes, I will think of him as Mr. Sandman. He is less edgy and much more friendly.

BENEATH THE SKIN

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I feel anxiety and the blues nipping at my heels. What did I expect anyways? I listened to too many podcasts this morning. I should have just listened to the silence while making bread instead. I could have listened to the dough rising. Instead I listened to Oprah interviewing Tara Westover about her book, Educated. It’s an inspiring story but it’s difficult to listen to the stories of her dysfunctional family. It’s a book I will still read.

After that, it was the episode about the UN biodiversity report of how many species of living plants and animals are disappearing around the world. It’s damn depressing and scary stuff on top of climate change.

“Extinction looms over one million species of plants and animals worldwide, scientists said.”

It’s news I rather not know. But how can we not, even though some proclaim that there’s no such thing as climate change and dispute the facts presented by scientists? These days we are living with unease just barely beneath the skin. I feel it humming through my body and psyche. I could not listen to the next podcast that came up –As permafrost thaws in Canada’s Arctic. I had to shut it off. I am a chicken shit. Now I’m sitting here, trying to tap out my residues of fear and the blues. I no longer try to run away from them. Running makes them come after me. But perhaps I can do a walk away. It’s that time of day for Sheba’s walk. A little sunshine and fresh air are good for the soul but not so for the bogeymen.

 

TREPIDATION and LEARNING

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Saturday

The wind still blows in Saskatoon. No rain nor snow. We sure could use some moisture. It is what it is. Sometimes wants and needs are not met. But our solar panels are producing electricity. April will be our best month.

I am a wee bit restless today, having that feeling that I should ‘accomplish’ things. I try to relax with my new read – Sue Grafton’s N is for Noose. I was not successful. I gave that up after a few pages and took Sheba out for her walk. The wind was cold and wicked, blowing grit into my mouth and eyes. It was not pleasant but we got some exercise and fresh air.

It’s Saturday but it feels like Sunday. I skipped swimming this morning. I thought I would just enjoy the day, not trying to doing anything and everything. I think it was a bust. Some days are like that. There’s nothing I can do except practice doing nothing more often. Maybe then I could be more at home with it.

Sunday

The wind has not abated one bit. I’m a little more at ease with it even though I had gone to bed with trepidation last night. Another shooting at a California synagogue. What is happening in the world? What is happening in us? These things nagged me in the dark of the night and early morning.

Daylight disperses fear. The dawn brings hope and renewed faith. I continue my morning routine of tea and qigong. It’s soothing to move through the ancient movements of my ancestors. They work, energizing me to carry on breathing, living and learning. I’m very excited about the Brain Change Summit. Today I watched The Science and Principles of a Plant-Bassed Ketogenic Diet with Dr. Will Cole. I’m eager to watch the Psychological Impact of Climate Crisis with Dr. Lise Van Susteren next. There’s still 3 more days of the Summit after today if you are interested. It is free.

 

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

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And the winds continue to blow. I feel its howl in my bones. I’m caught back in the space of restless anxiety. Have you ever been there? It’s not a restful place. I’m here tapping on my keyboard on this 25th day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I hope the rhymthic tapping can soothe and smooth me. If nothing else, I will have a blog post. I am a little displeased with myself for having fallen into this nervous trap – again. I feel like Alice plunging down the rabbit hole. But it is really not my fault. It is my brain and nervous system. I am built this way. I can’t help it.

I breathe and think loving kindness towards myself. May I be safe. May I be calm. May I be peaceful. May I be loved. I imagine the wind whispering all these to me. I picture a kind smile on its face. I feel the wind wrapping me in its warm embrace. I am stroked and loved. I am safe. I can let go of the tightness in my limbs. I can let go of my breath. I will not fall. I feel the sun coming out to smile down on me.

All is well. The world is as it should be. There is nothing I can/need to change except what is within me. When I change, everything changes also. I am that pebble thrown in the ocean. Gee, I have more power than I realize. What a Eureka moment! I am not immobilized by my fear. I am moving my fingers across the keyboard. The fear is a catalyst for opening my senses to new ways of seeing, feeling and thinking. I will survive this after all. Hallelujah, Jesus, Mary and Joseph!

So now it is evening. I have survived another day. And none the worse for wear, I might add. I got lost again, led astray by Mrs. Google Maps. Lost is my usual state of being. I drove around and around. I was a  little frazzled and late for my appointment. People are kind. Women are not good with directions. I am not good with directions. Nobody was mad. We all had a chuckle. Life is mellow again.

 

SEEKING SMALL PLEASURES

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The wind has subsided a bit. Likewise my anxiety. Caroline Myss is right. What is in one is in the whole. We are all connected, to each other and the universe. The howl of the wind was a dark song wailing through my being the other night. It seems to be picking up force again now as I speak. But it doesn’t have quite the malevolence in bright daylight. I’m not as reactive as I was. A good combination.

Coincidentally or is it, that I watched Deb Dana’s episode, Exploring the Science of Safety and Connection on the The Brain Change Challenge. Our autonomic nervous system is very complex and interesting. I gained much insight and some tools for navigating the adventures of living daily with mine. I want to be in that place of safety and connections and not in fight or flight. Nor do I want to be stuck in being scared to death all the time. Learning is still very exciting to this aging student.

So here I am today, sitting here tapping on my keyboard. I feel pretty warm and mellow. No heebie jeebies. I’ve been reading a section on miracles in Larry Dossey’s The Extraordinary Healing Power of Ordinary Things. I could feel my body being suffused with pleasure as I read Rita Klaus’s miraculous recovery from MS and Vittorio Michelli’s cure in Lourdes. I will seek out more of these pleasure moments. They are good antidotes for my anxiety.

 

LET NOTHING DISTURB YOU

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Have you ever been anxious? Have you ever been frightened? I’ve been both. It’s no fun. Any little thing can set things in motion. I’m afraid to look over my shoulder. I keep my head down, eyes averted, not wanting to see anything. I am afraid to take a breath, make any move. Afraid of what?  I can’t tell you. It’s a sense of impending doom. I’m like Humpty Dumpty sitting on the wall. I could fall off any minute.

I’ve been like this for a long, long time. I hadn’t recognize it as anxiety though. I used to call it ‘having a hard time’. It has been very, very hard. But I’m having fewer and shorter episodes of them now. What probably set it off last night was a delayed reaction to the bombing in Sri Lanka. My friend there was okay. But then the news with names and faces of those killed seeped into my consciousness. And it probably didn’t help that I’ve been reading about Anne Frank and the holocaust. Throw in climate change and the fact that we are so dry here. No rain yet this spring. No hope either.

It’s no wonder I was unable to sleep. No tossing and turning for me. I was afraid to relax, move, let go and even breathe. I was a stiff, tightly clenched body. I saw a sleepless night ahead of me and a terrible day following. I gave myself a silent talking to and willed myself to do a body scan. It failed, of course. I couldn’t willed myself. I was too taut. I had to get up and do something.

So I got up, made myself a cup of peppermint ginger tea. I cleaned the humidifier of scale deposits using Sheba’s toothbrush. It has a brush on both ends, one big and one small. It was perfect for the job. She does not allow me to use it on her. Now I have a use for it. No waste of a good brush. It was relaxing and soothing. Sheba came out to join me. She plopped herself at my feet as I stood at the kitchen sink. I felt comforted by her prescence. The job was soon done. I left it on the counter to dry – ready for next winter.

I was not yet ready to lay down again. I took my tea and sat in my Lazy Boy recliner. I try not to fret, I try not to do anything. I sipped my tea in the dark. I listened to the wind howl and watched the spruce trees sway in the night. I’m learning to sooth myself. I let whatever feelings come as they will. I heard St. Teresa Avila’s prayer and was comforted.

Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things are passing away:
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things
Whoever has God lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.

 

FEARS, CURIOSITIES AND PASSIONS

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January 6, 2019  6:44 pm

I’m late to the keyboard and hardpressed for words. I’m too full of the day’s activities. My head is full of ‘stuff’. I’m trying not to multi task, doing too much in one day. But when the going is good, when there is flow, I hate to stop. So here I am, a bit stuck and tongue tied. I just need a few minutes and a couple of taps and I’ll be ready to go.

Shortly before Christmas, I accidentally stumbled onto Suddenly Mad, Minna Packer’s blog about her early onset Alzheimer’s. It’s a fascinating and educational read for me. I somehow could relate to some of what she has gone/is going through. I don’t have the disease but her anxiety was familiar to me. I have a great admiration for her effort to put it out there for us. It not only helps me understand the disease more but it’s teaching me to live a better life. Have a read to see if it does the same for you.

I have always have a curiosity and passion for the mind, body and spirit. Minna has given me an even stronger desire to understand our brain and how to keep it healthy and strong. I suppose I had this sense of invincibility in my youth. I stayed up late, drank tons of coffee and smoked. This was even before I was a nurse. When I became a nurse, I was even worse, though I did stop smoking. It is surprising how much abuse our body can take.

Things caught up to me in retirement. I had time to fall apart then. It was a very difficult couple of years. I’m on the other side now. It does feel like I’ve stepped out of the cloud into the light. Now I can feel ease and pleasures whereas before I only felt anxiety and fear. I have a greater appreciation of my time here on earth.

I take care that I get enough sleep. I do get an occasional sleepless night. I’m learning not to stress too much about it when it happens. Aerobic exercise has been my best friend. It cleared my brain fog after a couple of weeks. Helps me sleep better, too. I’m still working on my emotional health. I’m such a reactonary. I need to be a responder instead. Life is not static. No matter where on the road we are, there’s learning always.

It is getting late. I have to close for this 6th day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’ll be back tomorrow. Good night.

LOOKING FOR THE LIGHT

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I like starting the day with a clear mind and a cleared table. So far, so good. I wasn’t quite so sure though last night when I couldn’t figured out how to turn on my car’s headlights. I was so sure that it was on the same side of the lever for the wipers. It was dark. I couldn’t see very well. I opened my door a bit so the dome light would come on. Nope, not there. I was almost afraid to look on the other side. I guess I was afraid that it wouldn’t be there. Then what would I do? It sounds silly, I know.

I was afraid to look but I groped under the left side of the steering wheel. Ah, the headlight lever. Relief flooded through me. Then anxiety. Am I getting demented? I sat there in anxiety but no panic. I did some silent soothing and calming of my nerves. I just had a glitch, a slight malfunction of the moment. I took time to breathe, remembering I have had such moments before when I was much younger:

  • I forgot my code for my credit card at the till shopping for groceries. I had to leave my groceries there.
  • I forgot where my locker was in the change room at work. I still remembered the panic I felt not recognizing what row it was in. It did passed in a few minutes. Whew!
  • I was talking to a medical resident at work. Her face got fuzzy. I wasn’t quite sure I remembered who she was. I must have looked disturbed. She said, Lily are you ok?  And I said, Jackie? And it was her. I somehow managed to laugh it off.

I felt better having remembered those incidents. Then doubt crept in. I’m older now. What if it, the big A, is here? I decided that I don’t need that thought just then. I took a big slow breath, carefully backed out my car and drove safely home. I said a prayer on the way, vowing to take better care of my brain health.

So that’s why I continue to show up here – to document, to dig, to question the truth of everything. I’m clearing the debris, the useless excess. I’m looking for the light home.

SITTING IN THE EVENING OF THE DAY

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Sitting still with myself is a tough task. I am not comfortable with myself. Are you, with yourself? It’s like facing a panel of judges, answering questions, facing up to truths. Yes, let me out of here! I squirm and wiggle. Finally I sit. Okay, I’m ready. I can be still. I can face reality. Let me have the cold facts.

How silly I am. I know the truths already. They’re unspoken, unacknowledged, just beneath the skin. Not saying them outloud does not diminished their roar, their need to be heard and tended to. Why are we am I so afraid of truths? Now my mask is off. I am not so afraid anymore. Just a bit. Being afraid brought more suffering along that of fear. I don’t want that. Get out. Stop it.

A moment of victory, conquering fear and anxiety. I just have to string the moments together to have an hour, a day, a week to a life of living bravely in the moment.

Sitting with myself is harder than I thought. I had to leave for a few days in the heat. The seat was hotter than I can tolerant. It’s cooler today and so am I. I am exhausted by it all. I am fresher in the morning. There’s things to do. No time for sitting or contemplation. By late afternoon I am on the downward spiral. I struggle to feel bubbly. I struggle for energy to do my art challenges. I know from experience that if I start, the struggle is resolved. That’s what I do. I stand up. I move. I do.

It is after 9 pm. I’ve made and ate supper. The dishes are done. The garbage out. I’ve thinned the carrots and filled one raised bed with water on the way back from taking the garbage out. That’s how I get things done when doing is difficult. It is one little thing followed by one little thing. It’s moving one foot in front of the other.

If I sound a little melancholy, it is because I am. It is the evening of the day. I sit and tap out my words and feelings. I am not sure if they are true. What I know for sure is life is miraclous and unpredictable. It always has been but I’m truly recognizing it now. I’m learning not to question the whys and wherefores, the ones without answers. I am a little more comfortable with myself now. I am appreciating the peace and the silence my tapping has bought me. It is time to say goodnight.

 

LIVE WISE

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Sheba was right on the money this morning. 6:05 am was when I felt her cold wet nose, followed by her little snort. It was still pitch black. But I love that part of the day when Preston Avenue was still asleep. No continuous ribbon of cars and only a few foot traffic.

I’m learning to leave my electronics asleep for awhile, indulging myself turning a few pages of written words. Once I start scrolling, one thing would lead to another. The minutes and then the hours would go by. My head and mind stirred and messed up with bad and/or useless information. Instead,  these mornings I am reading Stephen Jenkinson’s Die Wise, a Manifesto for Sanity and Soul. It is not an easy read. I can only do a few pages at a time. Now I might have to leave it for a few days.

He didn’t tell me anything that I did not know before. What it did was to take me right back to the workplace I have left 4 years ago. The scenes and talks were so familiar. I know he is coming from an authentic place. He has given a voice to those things and feelings that I’ve experienced and breathed for years but couldn’t articulate. I am grateful for that identification. It will help me ‘get over’ and heal from my ‘anxiety’ or ‘trauma’. The book is aptly named. It is a manifesto for sanity and soul. I believe that my anxiety was from the denial of all the feelings I’ve witnessed and experienced in the hallowed halls of the Hospital. But how else could I have carried on working without the denial?

These things were never talked about that I could remember. Yes, there was a Health Office but that was mostly where you report to after you’ve been off sick. It was like the Prinicpal’s Office. Most of the time I felt like a truant child, not deserving but abusing. Health care was for patients only. But then this was my experience. I don’t know about others. We don’t talk about it much. It was the same way with after retirement. I don’t hear about how others fare. I just hear about the travelling. That’s what I hear the most. Are you going to travel? I felt obligated to travel just because I am retired.

What happened to me was I fell apart. Or that’s what it felt like. Oh, I did some travelling. I was busy most if not all the time. I wasn’t just sitting around having a nervous breakdown.  I always took pride in being very functional, no matter what. No one probably knew I was having difficulties except maybe the person living with me. Sheba probably did. She had her own anxiety attacks. They were probably from me. She cushioned me by absorbing some of it. She is my best friend.

I am so lucky to have arrive in this space and time. I can now sit and stay with my feelings without jumping out of my skin. I can acknowledge the good, bad and the ugly. I can sit and read Die Wise – if only a few pages at a time.