Loathing Fear

I suppose what they say is true; youth is wasted on the young. I’m recalling my younger days when I wasn’t fearful, for the most part, of any situation. The foolhardiness of being young, impulsive, even doing stupid things, putting myself in (what I now know were) unsafe situations. Never being completely conscious of the consequences of my actions.

I’m sure we all have those memories of our youth and wonder how we managed to survive to the present day. I can see those years for what they were, but there is a part of me that yearns for that feeling of fearlessness.

Struggling daily with panic and anxiety disorders one becomes intimately acquainted with fear. It is omnipresent, always on alert, and at the forefront of thought. It dictates our actions and limits our ability to function, be present, and experience joy. I loathe fear and how it has impaired my life. As much as I am intellectually aware of fear, its grip doesn’t seem to lessen enough, even with time or therapeutic experience in accepting or mitigating it.

I work hard to manage my panic and anxiety disorders, using many tools and methodologies, yet fear is always with me. This is a testimony to its power. Even though it wins in its influence on me and my behavior daily, I take some credit and gratitude that there are times when I do win the moment, even if it is only one moment in one day.

Yes, I loath you, fear, and harken for a day when you are gone, that is my right, even if I know you may never leave. At least I have memories of a time when you were but a fleeting thought ignored for foolish endeavors.

New State, New City, New Variant!

I moved to a new State in late November 2021 and faced all the challenges, stresses, and frustrations one would expect with a move. I’ve done it before so I felt like I at least had some experience on my side. Even with all the added anxiety, lack of proper sleep, and complications, everything came together well. The pieces of this move fell into place better than the last two moves.

Nothing causes me more anxiety in these situations more than trying to line up new doctors for the continuation of care. Even though I am on a Medicare Advantage Plan, insurance may change and there is little to go on except ratings and reviews. Mental health providers are scarce and even harder to find when you factor in the acceptance of your insurance, whether or not they are taking new patients, and if you feel comfortable and can establish a connection.

I thought finding providers would be somewhat easier in what was to become my new home since it is a university city with an affiliated hospital and in a decently populated area. It is a small city of about 47,00 people in a county of about 100,000. The perfect size for me insofar as not exacerbating my panic and anxiety disorders the way a large metropolitan area does. Large metro areas are simply overwhelming for me.

I was wrong about my assumption of ample providers in the area. I made so many calls and left so many messages I became very disorganized. Not only disorganized but confused too. It was very challenging to keep things in order when your illnesses contribute to memory issues. I kept a list but it wasn’t detailed enough and many times I had no recollection of why someone was on the list or if any conversation had taken place. I was on many waiting lists and cutting it close with the most important of my doctors, a psychologist. I was getting callbacks while driving. I made appointments I didn’t recall making. Luckily, I put them into my phone and could follow up once I arrived in my new hometown.

I had two appointments with therapists in the first couple of weeks and neither was a good fit for me. The third one was the charm and happened to be affiliated with the university health system, which is where I established primary care. We are still in the “getting to know” you stage but I feel confident in their abilities, am comfortable talking, and feel like we will be able to forge a good relationship.

Unfortunately, the Omicron variant has been spreading rapidly and it is limiting my ability to go out and become familiar with my new area. A new area means a whole new set of anxieties and I have to start anew with exposure therapies with stores, doctors’ offices, and of the area in general. I feel behind the curve on this due to the new Covid strain. (I’ve felt behind for the last two years.) I have a lot of anxieties about becoming ill so I am very conservative about going out among people, something I already struggle with. Covid-19 has been extremely challenging for me as I tend to revert to more agoraphobic behaviors. But it is beyond my control, all I can do is the best I can with the situation at hand. I have to keep reminding myself of that and, as my therapist says, count each success no matter how small.

I’ll be talking more about Covid and anxiety in future. Stay safe!

Where Was I?

I spent the pandemic in Florida. I suppose I could end this blog entry there and readers can draw their conclusions since Florida was known to mostly ignore all mitigation efforts. Whatever your political beliefs, there is individual responsibility for others when it comes to public health and safety.  

I arrived in Florida in early March 2020 from New York. I was to be there 6 weeks. 6 weeks turned into 2 years. I won’t take up too much time with this entry since I think many more people have some form of or an increase in the severity of anxiety from the pandemic. Suffice it to say the time during the pandemic was especially exacerbating for me. I don’t feel like I made any progress, and possibly regressed, during this time but when I’m in therapy or reflecting I’ve come to realize that every day was an exposure therapy session. No matter how small the activity, just simply going to the store was a big panic/anxiety exposure therapy. I also had no writing motivation during that time but I survived, mental health issues intact, which is more than many people can say. For that, I am truly grateful.  

I’m sure I could come up with many examples from that time of specific events to talk about Panic Disorder, Anxiety, and Depression. I’m equally as certain that virtually everyone has their own stories. I’m re-visiting my blog to pick up in the present so I will leave those stories in the past where they belong. My intent with this entry is just to let you know where I’ve been. If anyone has any specific “coping with mental illnesses during the pandemic” questions, feel free to ask and I’ll try to answer with specific experiences.  

Otherwise, onward we go.  

Gone So Long

Written November 2020:

I’ve been gone far too long from my blog, consumed by life, unmotivated by the Country’s events unfolding around me, and once again moving to another state.

The winter of discontentment that so defined my time spent in a small upstate New York city gave way to a return after to the east coast of Florida after a 20 year absence. To the area I lived in for about 17 years until the year 2000.

As with many things in life, this was not according to plan. In fact, it was an Anxiety suffers nightmare. I came for a vacation the first week in March and …. COVID-19 struck and I never returned to New York.

January 2022:

I had every intention resuming my blog when I began the post above. Unfortunately I just didn’t have it in me to return to it. The last two years have been full of sadness, change, adaptations, confusion, anger, and about a dozen other adjectives, feel free to insert your own.

The pandemic has affected everyone in a very personal way. I’m not going to go into it much except in the context of dealing with panic disorder and anxiety. In fact I’m simply going to say that it has been a two year period of exacerbations, setbacks, self-inflicted disappointments, and real turmoil. I may return to elaborate on specifics or leave it there, I haven’t decided yet.

I’m going to just attempt to pick back up my blog and see where it takes me. The structure of WordPress has changed so we’ll see how fast I can adapt. Stay tuned…..

The Moment Between Moments

The Moment Between Moments

Within the folds of time, somewhere between past, present and future is freedom from the darkness and a blissful ability to see beyond the constraints of thought.  I call these the moments between moments, a magical place of space and time.

Like the space between when a bird flaps its wings,  I soar with them to new heights, not realizing my limitations or earthbound nature.

The moment when the ocean pulls back just before a wave crashes to shore, I feel warm, safe, contented and at peace.

A surreal place where I plan all the things I want to tell my loved ones, forgetting they are no longer in this realm.

These moments of time feel longer than they actually are and all I want to do is slip back into them. They are just as tangible as any other moment, but their reality is questioned. It’s like waking from a dream cut short not knowing which state of mind is real, yet each has a truth and reality all its own. It’s in these moments and the ones to follow that I live in gratitude and reverence, for in them lies the source of limitless love, light and peace.

Warning: Rough Road Ahead

Unfortunately when you live with anxiety, depression and panic disorders there are no road signs warning you of what’s ahead.  One can be traversing a relatively smooth road when suddenly we hit a pothole that dents our wheels and leaves us wobbly.  What damage has been done?  Is it repairable?  What do I do now?  That smooth ride is damaged and we don’t have the confidence to know if things can be corrected.  The abruptness can easily throw you off your game as it recently did to me.

I hit that proverbial pothole and the road after it has been rough and bumpy.  I felt like I was sliding down a hill of progress, contracting to a time when my illness was less manageable, more pronounced and much more acutely active on a daily and even hourly basis.  All my coping mechanisms were forgotten and years of therapeutic knowledge and lessons retreated to the recesses of my mind.

Once the shock of the incident diminished I began to wonder what caused this setback.  I have multiple diagnoses, all of which produce symptoms that can and do trigger a panic attack.  It’s a guessing game of which came first, the panic attack or a physical symptom that triggered one. Having an anxious mind I played out all the possible scenarios in my mind, until my head literally felt like it was going to explode.  Sometimes the over analytical nature of my anxious mind can help me check things, gather information and make sound decisions, this wasn’t one of those times.

I quickly made appointments will my medical providers to get to the bottom of my sudden exacerbation of panic symptoms and with their help began to piece together a puzzle of both the emotional and physical issues at play. I have hypothyroidism and Crohn’s disease in addition to my mental illnesses which are all connected and effect my overall health.   When something is physically off with me it triggers panic and a cycle like the one above begins.  I try my best not to let it spiral but when I’m caught by surprise it happens.

My doctor and I did make some suppositions about what caused me to hit that pothole. My thyroid numbers were off, which could have contributed.  Just knowing the numbers were off most likely contributed and it may have just been anxiety letting me know it’s ever-present.

It was a lesson to me not to become complacent, not to forgo practicing relaxation and coping methods and to continually challenge myself to explore the many facets of the anxiety and panic disorders I live with everyday.  This latest episode also reminded me that the journey of recovery is long, full of hard work, and isn’t linear.  Setbacks, stress, and life happens and even when my demons (as I call them) aren’t right by my side, they are still present just over my shoulder.

 

 

Grief Creates a Holiday

I find it a cruel irony that grief creates a holiday of it’s own. The day our loved one dies is marked forever in our mind, soul and body thereby creating griefs holiday.  A bittersweet day of remembrance that is often spent in sorrow and reflection.  We can remember with love the person we lost and celebrate their life, but that loss is also a source of pain that never seems to abate.

Grief is a condition that ebbs and flows; It can go into remission only to be exacerbated by virtually anything, a song, a smell, a place, a situation or a holiday….. none more exacerbating than the one created by grief itself.

 

Urban Flower

Imagine…

We are all stardust of the universe unnaturally fragmented, broken into selfish individual pieces. Each lacking some integral part of its wholeness. 

Imagine what a world it would be if we nurtured each other, shared, cared and pooled our resources to help each other. If we strived to be a part of something bigger instead of every one being out for themselves. If we shared our natural gifts, strengths and experiences to create a better planet rather than compete for our own personal enrichment.  

Just imagine….. Imagine how full all our hearts and souls would be.  Imagine how it would feel to be as one, at peace with ourselves and our beautiful blue planet 🌏 

Just imagine……

Love, light and peace….always

Perils of a Small City

Since I moved from a large metropolitan area in Florida to a small city in NY I’ve had my share of social adjustment issues as well as the previously mentioned problems finding health care providers.

I’ve been here about nine months now and oftentimes I feel like I haven’t made any progress in my recovery journey.  Along with the time I’ve spent finding and struggling with providers comes the typical new patient curve.  As a new patient I have to begin with my history and get to know the therapist or other provider. (most of which don’t bother to read the medical records or summations I bring from my previous providers) It’s doesn’t feel productive and it doesn’t feel like progress when all I’ve done is be a new patient three times in nine months.

I have finally begun to settle in with my newest therapist and she actually did call my previous therapist (who offered to speak to my new one) and get a sense of who I am and what we had been working on.  This alone was not only satisfying but demonstrated her willingness to learn about my history not just from me but from her peer.  It’s still a less intensive therapy than I previously had but I’ve begun to accept that I’ve come far enough that maybe it’s actually what’s required.  I have the tools and I know how to use them.  I should after almost five years of continued therapy.  Of course, in the throws of a crisis, a panic attack or a stressful situation sometimes the toolbox isn’t at the ready.  Metaphorically speaking, sometimes I forget to open it, other times It’s left in the basement and in extreme circumstances I forget I even have one.  That’s all to be expected and with practice and exposure I’m hopeful that using my tools will improve.

The other peril of being in a smaller area is that it makes finding exposures, things to do and places to go, harder to find.  It is more difficult to get out of my safety bubble. I’ve been keeping up on the smaller stuff, visiting stores, parks, and stretching my range as best as I can to keep myself in practice and to avoid the feeling of regression, but lately I really feel the need for a bigger push. Now that spring is finally here (winter saps motivation) it’s my goal, along with my therapist, to come up with some more challenging exposures.

As for a complete adjustment to this area, I don’t think it will ever happen. It’s just not where I want to be.  I’m doing the best I can but I look forward to leaving when my partner finishes grad school.