I’m getting quite anxious to get back to life. I am feeling better but when I spend more than 15 minutes moving around I start coughing.
Since I went through whooping cough 4 years ago my pelvic floor muscles are shot. Leaving the house is not an option yet. (For those who have not given birth or are a woman of a certain mature age – it is called peeing your pants!)
This staying quiet thing is hard. Being lost in my own thoughts has previously led me to drink. But, I am quite amazed at how my inner voice has changed.
The treats and rewards that I try to post about have helped reframe my day. Getting to the other side of withdrawl symptoms with a new mindset feels great.
In my beginning posts I definately see the physical struggles. I also recognize the racing life style and thought patterns that led me back to the only thing I knew to stop and slow myself down. Taking a drink.
I have read or listened to so many stories that reflect how other women felt ‘stress’ until they quit drinking and then discovered undiagnosed panic or anxiety.
When there are no more chemicals to change my racing thoughts and actions, I have to rename it from stress to anxiety.
To me stress is a response that can be fixed. Take a drink. Done. Over.
Anxiety is way of life, a constant fear, a character defect, a mental illness.
Stress is a ” look at her – she’s has so much going on and look at how well she does things” feeling. Anxiety is ” sheesh – she has a real problem, she is defective.”
I get positive feedback from others about doing good work with a high stress life. When I fall apart from illness- usually caused by too much stress – the feedback is more a how soon can you get back.
An old Oprah show had on a woman who said that she took some time off from life. She went looking for peace by resting at home.
It took her 5 years.
I was shocked. In the same way we give employees 1-5 days off for grief, we use the same mentality for anxiety. Are you done yet? Can you please go back to normal? How long is this going to take?
I have decided that in dealing with my newly renamed anxiety, (ouch, just saying it makes my stomach flip) that I will honor it. I will give it the true attention it deserves. “I will hug it, and kiss it and call it George.”
I am going to stay quiet.