No boundaries are set where anxiety goes

Things have been all over the place, still, since my last post. Lots of crying, some anger. Down and down with little up.

The other day I was so upset with dealing with passwords I bounced between tears and anger. I actually threw my phone. This, no matter what I'm feeling, has never been a thing. I can't think of a time when I've thrown something in anger.

Today, serious emotional hot messiness. I cried about going to the bank. This is something I do every week (going to the bank, not the crying about it). There is a branch that is more practical for me to go to than the one I already use. It is so dumb to cry over, but it was really stressing me out. Shawn was telling me just to keep going where I go. That it isn't so far that going to the other matters so much. It isn't worth the anxiety. He's right, but I want to be a grown-up. I want to not have these feelings of panic and stress over something that any normal person does everyday.

I've also been dealing with anxiety over things much larger than my small bubble of life. In my white, middle-aged woman life, I can go out with very little worries about my safety. It gets to be too much when I see vile treatment toward minorities. I feel like I should watch the videos. That I should see what happened because what happened was too much to be ignored. But, I also know the limits of my emotional and mental tolerance...

I woke up to the Christian Cooper/Amy Cooper video. The WHITE woman was in the wrong. The BLACK man felt the need to record the incident. This woman is a terrible person. She knew the power she has over a black man. The way she made the call and the escalation and exaggeration in that call should make all people angry. As a white woman, I need to look at this woman's behavior so as not to be complacent, to never let it happen in front of me. In this story, Christian Cooper is the very lucky survivor of what was   

There are the other racist actions...much worse results, but the racism is still racism. The names people should know are Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd. Racism buried them and many more. So many names should be listed here. These are the most recent in the news cycle that I get my news from. I can't imagine a life in which I have to fear the things that killed each of these people. My heart goes out to all of those who have lost people to the overwhelming evil that is racism.

Shawn wrote a great reflection on racism that I wanted to share:

"The word "racist" has done a lot of harm to white people.

No, not because it's hurtful or inaccurate or undeserved. It's harmed us because it lets us off the hook.

Most white people think of "racist" as a binary. Either you are one or you're not. That makes it really easy for us to form a very clear picture of what a racist is -- a Klan member, a Nazi, someone who uses racial slurs, etc. -- and proudly proclaim that we are not that. Who, me? I can't be a racist; I never use the "n" word!

Having absolved ourselves, we dust our hands and feel good about being so woke. There's no need for self reflection, no need for personal growth. We aren't that bad thing, so let's think about something more pleasant.

The problem is, no one is 100% free of racial biases (or gender, sexuality, class, or any other kind of bias). Biases are hammered into us from the day we're born by our friends and family, pop culture, religion, politicians, society itself. We spend our whole lives marinating in a soup of biases, some fairly benign, some decidedly not. So how could we avoid picking some of them up?

It's not enough to simply be "not racist". We have to do more; we have to dig deeper. We have to examine our biases honestly and work to educate ourselves. Because what is bias but applied ignorance? The only way to unlearn a bad lesson is to learn a good one. And there are plenty of good lessons out there, for those who are willing to learn.

Am I a racist? I try not to be, but it's a work in progress."

So, my anxiety knows no boundaries. Personal to worldwide issues, I will always find stressors. I'll have to figure some things out, but as Shawn says, "...it's a work in progress."

Anxiously anxious

The other day I had a phone appointment with my psychiatrist. I was telling her about my anxiety and the physical manifestations I've been having when it's at its worst. She asked when I'm feeling the anxiety. Shawn is in my appointments a lot of the time to give a realistic perspective. So, when she asked this, he said that I feel anxiety daily. Some level of anxiety is my baseline of existence. I told her that when it is higher than normal I have diarrhea. There are nights, maybe once a month, where I have both diarrhea and vomiting.

Here's the stream lately. Not knowing how to do certain technological things. Freaking out and needing Shawn to come help. Work - stress having me go from one extreme to another as far as roles and feeling deemed lesser. Money. We are okay, but not okay enough to be able to do remodeling and landscaping. People not wearing masks to protect others, especially when I'm wearing one to protect them. The president, always. A friendship I don't understand the status of and so I've withdrawn and am sick to my stomach regularly. Not feeling like I can do anything. Stressing over trying to practice mindfulness because my mind is full. So, my attempts to relax my way out of anxiousness have led me to greater anxiousness. I feel like I don't follow the rules of the experience, which misses the point, in a way.

So, what's next? Blood work. Results that will be used to determine what to do about my meds. Will my thyroid be the problem? Will my Lamictal level show that a change in that med is necessary? Will Paxil, in a very low dose, be added to help with the anxiety in addition to the Ativan I already take? Will that small dose of Paxil have the effect that it tends to have for Bi-Polar patients? So many questions. What will the answers be?

Excuse me while I go deal with my anxious stomach.

Just wear it

There are so many things going on right now. Things that are divisive. A different view on the handling of matters related to COVID. I have changed the way I do my job. My therapist and I have appointments over the phone. It seems like forever ago that we had an in office visit and who knows when we'll go back to them. I don't mind these things if they are going to keep Shawn, me and others safe.

Our life has changed in other ways. We were kind of homebodies before all of this, me more so than Shawn. It is kind of funny to me that being someone who stays home a lot was different when it was my choice, but when it had become a government order, I was a little annoyed. With all of this, we go out in public the least amount necessary and when we're out, it is for the shortest time needed to get things done. We wear our masks. Do I find them comfortable? No. But, I wear a mask to protect others from the chance I am infected. I wish those who don't wear them had the same consideration for us. 

This train

Sometimes the train of thought I travel is so odd. 

Yesterday, Shawn was talking about Trump. For some reason, I started to think about the way he sways back and forth when someone is talking. I have the sense that he is completely distracted as he does it. Someone else is speaking and he just doesn't give a shit.

After playing out that visual, my train moved on to the next stop. I started to think about the movement of someone holding a baby or small child. It's not the same as Trump's movement, but it has a certain rhythm. It's also contagious. I've caught myself doing it when being around the person who is actually holding the child.

Leaving the station now to make the next stop.

As I thought about the baby holding movement, it reminded me of a time years ago. When I was going through all the convent stuff and thinking about that life, I was at mass. There was a woman holding her baby and doing the baby sway. I caught myself moving, too. Then it was time to sit and I kept watching her. My thoughts moved to how to continue with my life's path, I was consciously choosing to never have children. Convent life meant never being called, "Mama".

Making way to the railroad switch. 

A thought about a swaying baby which turned to a thought about swaying with a baby, moves childlessness.

As we know, if you've been around to read some posts, the convent thing didn't not play out. So, I no longer had to choose not to have a child. I could happily make that choice. Well, I could choose to try to get pregnant. But, infertility meant never being called, "Mama".