This space has been quiet for a long time. I may post here and there but my heart isn't into it. I do it to keep things normal....because I thought that if I didn't acknowledge what has been building up inside me for a period of time then maybe it would just go away. But sadly, it really doesn't.
I do not know how many people suffer from anxiety and I do not know if it's the same thing I've been going through or not. I use the word "anxiety" because it is the closest word I can find. It feels as if the world is about to end and I am either drowning or having a heart attack. It started a little while after Bean's birthday, mid-august. I just woke up one day et voila--there it is yet again.
This isn't something unfamiliar to me because this is the fourth time this has happened. The worst was 2008 when my anxiety escalated to me estimating the years left of every person I encounter ( a bit crazy, right?) Let me tell you that it just sucks. More so this time because now I am taking care of two kids. I have to keep it in check and not have a breakdown. But as much as I try to hide it, not talk about it, and deny it the more it seeps out in the smallest of ways--my constant impatience towards my eldest, how I shut out my husband, how I panic when the littlest just wouldn't nap or would have a change in routine. It's as if I might have a stroke at any moment. As soon as the kids sleep I also try to sleep hoping that the next day I would wake up feeling okay.
So I tried confiding a little to my SIL and husband. At first I'd tell them a little about it and then proceed to talk about other things. Then I get into a constant cycle of self-hate. I stopped painting and did nothing but stare and think when my kids were napping.
One day I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to be myself again. So I told my husband everything. All my worries and everything that I felt, describing it in detail as best as I can. And he told me: "It's okay to be NOT okay; there is no shame in that," and "It's okay to get help if you need it."
And you know what? Accepting that somewhere in me there is something wrong or broken means that it is fixable. Unburdening myself by talking honestly about it helped me feel better. I am still not a hundred percent okay and my panic attacks are still there but I sure feel hell of a lot better.
I am looking forward to go back to writing in this space (even if I know not a lot people read it) and also painting and being a better parent.
So if you think that the world is caving in, or if you feel so down and hopeless....try talking about it with someone you trust and someone who has faith in you.
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