Facing Anxiety – Small steps are still steps

And anxiety takes over yet again and the more I fight it the harder it tugs. Sinking in quicksand. Will I ever find my feet? 👣

Would that I could wish it away but wishes like that just beg it to stay. Scanning thoughts to find the cause. Scanning because it’s not obvious. Trouble is, when I’m unsure, the more I scan the more I find to be anxious about.

Last night I couldn’t nail it down but it comes into sharp focus this morning. I am venturing out to watch my friends son curl and although I am excited I am also terrified.😨

I’m heading back to a place where many of my dreams came to be. Where many of my dreams came true. So much history. Unfortunately this is not a world I’ve been part of for years. Now I’m outside looking in.👀

My injuries keep me away and I live in fear of questions about what I’m doing now, where I’ve been. I thought I’d set the curling world on fire someday.♨ It’s hard to make disability leave sound hopeful. 

Back to this morning.🌞 I arrived and watched my friend’s son play and he had a great time and so did I. I did see people I knew but, of course, they were all gracious and kind and genuinely curious about what I was up to.❤

I’m glad I went today. It was scary but I feel good about it. I don’t know when or if I’ll be back on a more permanent basis but that’s OK. I don’t have to have it all figured out just yet. Small steps are still steps after all.👣

K

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Nothing to Fear but Phobias

 Looking back, I realize when my anxiety flared to it’s worst I began to develop more and more phobias. Sure, in the past I’d  had a mild aversion to worms and slimy looking things but that mild aversion didn’t cripple me to the point of inaction. 

Disturbingly the phobias that began to plague me seemed to develop out of nowhere. I decided to seek therapy after a particularly frightening incident. 

Roughly 9 years ago I had closed down the restaurant where I worked. I checked and rechecked to see I’d locked the gate properly and finally managed to accept it was locked and got into my car. I then fought the urge to start all over by checking and rechecking I’d not forgotten anything inside the restaurant.

I managed to drive roughly half a block before turning around to go back and check the restaurant hadn’t caught fire. I turned back one more time before finally convincing myself to go home.

Later,in bed, my eyes snapped open at 3am and I was compelled to go back and check on the restaurant. I breathed a sigh of relief after driving half way across the city to find the building safe and sound.

I turned back twice more before finally heading home where I cried myself to sleep. I couldn’t understand why my conscientious streak had turned into paralyzing paranoia.

In the coming years I battled with a gripping fear of driving. I was terrified of handling any bend in the road above a speed of approximately 50kmh. This made navigating any stretch of highway frightening for myself but also damn dangerous for anyone sharing the road with me.

My friends and family could not understand my new aversion to driving. I felt horrible for not being able to explain and not understanding it myself. I hated the highway, handling curves and corners, passing, being passed, and, the ever-dreaded (by me only it seems),vanishing horizon. 

Seeing the crest of a hill and not being able to see beyond set my pulse pounding and my breathing shallow and ragged. I felt there would be no road to catch me should I cross that invisible horizon line. And, like a puppy chasing sun rays, as soon as I safely crested one horizon I’d begin to fear safe passage o’er the next.

I also developed a fear of flying even though I’d happily travelled on planes quite frequently since infancy. I feared forgetting to shut off the stove top, the oven, the coffee maker, or the curling iron thus burning my house to the ground. 

I feared losing my keys, locking myself out, running out of medication, losing my job, being robbed, the death of a loved one, and my own death. I feared all these things and more to varying degrees and for varying lengths of time until one day the fears became just a little quieter. Currently my fears are tamped down to little more than a whisper. 

I’m not sure what it is that finally exercised the demon of fear. Perhaps the medication did it, or therapy, or reading the right book, or doing enough fucking cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) work sheets,  just the passing of time, or a combination thereof.

I still have spells where fear creeps in and possesses my body and mind but, for now at least, I am able to quell the beast with relative ease.

K