I've been debating whether to blog this or not. Not because it's a secret, but just because the bloggy world seems a bit over saturated with mental health sometimes.
I have always been an anxious person. Wired in the genes, I suspect, because Sierra has definitely inherited it. For many reasons, the anxiety has been building over the last 2 years or so though. Until recently, when I recognized that I was near panic anytime I left the house and starting to come up with reasons not to go anywhere. That I no longer had a butterflies in the stomach feeling I could ignore, I was now so nervous I was getting physically ill. And that's when I knew I wasn't going to be getting through this one on my own.
So I went to the doctor. She wanted me to try zoloft. That was BAD. Way, way, way, way bad. Definitely not the drug for me. I had every side effect possible and the anxiety ramped up ten-fold. I was completely non-functional for days. It was terrible and I was terrified to try anything else. And that's when I knew I wasn't going to be getting through this by popping a pill (which had seemed so easy before I tried it).
So I went to a therapist that came highly recommended from a friend. And she was great. She had some really good ideas for me. I enjoyed talking to her and began to feel hopeful. She assigned me homework that has been a challenge, but helpful. And that's when I knew I was going to have to work at this. Work hard. Because I deserve to enjoy grocery shopping again (it's always been my favorite). Because my family deserves to take a trip without me flipping out.
99% of the time, I do really well at home, especially if everyone else is home with me. So that's a blessing. I had a glimpse of general, all the time anxiety thanks to the zoloft and I hope I'm never in that place. But the flip side of that is 99% of the time I am away from home, I am only barely suppressing the urge to run back home. I know this is illogical. I feel really silly. I get mad at myself. Cripes, our last big road trip was only 7 months ago and I handled that just fine, so this switch being flipped is part baffling, part infuriating.
One of the biggest helps lately was a reminder on a blog I read frequently to just play. Several months ago I made several different sized hula hoops and started trying to teach myself some of the tricks I've seen this lady do on her blog. Her post was a reminder to just get up and do something. Now when I'm nervously anticipating an outing I have to make, I jump up and take the kids outside for some hoop time. If the anxiety sticks around a little while longer, I may just figure out how to roll the hoop from one hand to the other across my back.