It sucks.
Some honest thoughts about anxiety...
My struggle with this beast isn't new. Not at all. It's been with me for as long as I can remember. It's a familiar frenemy... but it has changed since everything went sideways and we lost the baby.
I kissed Paolo goodbye and sent him off to work - the doting wifey, waving from the doorway. He kissed me and my belly before he left.
He always did.
I turned and looked at my daughters and told them to wash up - we were going to bake a cake! They excitedly clamored away to their bathroom, big brown eyes sparkling and cheeks dimpled from their smiles. I went to my bathroom so I could wash my hands.
I could hear them laughing as I stood at my sink.
It was idyllic. It was a sitcom. It was a Rockwell painting.
Then I sat to pee and my panties were full of blood. I knew right away that my baby was gone.
Just that fast. No cramps, no warning, no sharp pains or feelings of uneasiness... sudden and catastrophic loss. Our baby, our dreams, our hopes, the little moments we wanted so badly... the little habits we had already established.
He wouldnt have to talk to my belly anymore. So much loss on so many levels.
Since then, I have lived with the constant crushing anxiety that the next disaster is right there just waiting to happen. My rational mind understands probabilities and safety, etc. My gut and nerves can't listen.
Tonight we had a family outing. I spent that entire time so stressed that I anxiety-bounced my leg for well over an hour and picked at my finger and lip til both were bleeding.
For the sake of transparency, and because I am not at all ashamed of my anxiety, I wanted to share with you all a partial list of some of the stuff that went through my mind:
TW: my anxiety tends to focus on danger and death for my kids. Proceed with caution.
"We shouldn't all go. If we get into a car accident and all die, my mom is going to be devastated - like she will actually die of a broken heart. My dad is gonna be a widower and it's going to be my fault because I went to this damn event."
"Oh God overpass. We're gonna drive off of it. Omg. The babies are awake, they'll be aware we are falling and about to die."
"Brake brake BRAKE holy fuck we are gonna get t-boned and it's not gonna be hard enough to hurt anyone else but itll be just enough to fuck my spine and I'll be paralyzed and nobody will love me anymore because I'll be a burden."
"I hate this parking lot. There could be snipers ANYWHERE."
"This is a lot of people. Someone here is sick. Probably with something really deadly and rare. One of the girls is gonna catch what I think is a cold and I'm gonna wait too long to take them to the hospital and they're gonna die and itll be all my fault."
"Someone in here is a rapist. Someone in here is a kidnapper. Someone here is racist. Someone here is a murderer. The girls are in danger just by being here."
"These risers are gonna collapse and we're all going to die screaming and terrified."
"Is that a gun?"
"Where are the exits? Can we move our seats closer to them?"
"If we go closer to the exits then we will be closer to the line of fire if a shooter comes through them."
"We could be bombed by domestic terrorists at any moment."
"That elephant is going to rampage and hurt so many people. The screaming is going to set off the camel. People are going to stampede to try and get away. I'm going to be crushed by either an elephant or the big white dude 2 rows down."
"One of those aerialists is going to fall. There's no net. This is a small venue. My daughters will be able to hear the crunching splat sound and it'll scar them for life."
"I have to drive the girls home by myself. We're gonna get followed by human traffickers and sold to someone for sex. Some gross human being is going to end up raping and murdering my kids and I cant protect them."
"Dont take the overpass. You'll have an accident and fall off of it. Drive the long way around."
"Survey the area before you get the kids out of the car. Theres a kidnapper hiding behind the garbage cans and snipers on the neighbors roof. They're watching you. They know you're alone."
sux
This sort of dialogue is constant now, as is my body sometimes reacting to them as if they are real threats.
Most of the time I can acknowledge these thoughts as products of my increased anxiety brought about by trauma and exacerbated by rapidly changing hormone levels. Other times I lose that battle and sit in my bath tub and cry because I'm convinced my family is going to end up in an internment camp and I'll lose everyone and we will all suffer unexplainable anguish and I can't protect any of us from anything.
Yes, I have already made steps to seek professional help for this. This sort of anxiety is well above what I can handle with the resources and skillset I have.
I just needed to document this all, if not for myself than for the next young mom who ends up in my position.
There have been women here in this struggle before me and will be women here after me.
I guess this confession was my way of signing the guest book. I was here.
This is evidence. The isolation I feel right now is false. I am not alone in this, not alone in my grief or anxiety or fear or anger or confusion. I am not the first to think these thoughts or feel these feelings.
I know that because others have talked about it openly. They have used their voices and told their truths. Consider my voice added to the choir.
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