Got anxiety? Me too, so read on.

Let's talk about anxiety. Like really talk about it. The good (there's not much good actually,) the bad and the (very) ugly.  I've struggled with anxiety and depression ever since High School. I'm a "worry wart" and always have been. I blame it on my late Grandpa Don. He was the biggest worrier I had ever known. Until me.
In my adult years it's actually gotten worse. I had extremely bad post partum depression with 2 of my children, which was when I actually felt my first actual "panic" attacks happen. People who aren't affected by this often ask what it feels like, and why it is so bad and why can't you control it? First off, I'm going to try and explain it the best way I can explain  (now this is ONLY from my personal experience. I can't and am not speaking for, or generalizing what it feels like for other people).  In fact, panic/anxiety attacks affect people in many different ways, this is just the way if affects ME.
For me, it feel like I'm being swallowed into a black hole....down the black abyss of nothingness where everything is wrong and scary and confusing and lonely.  It gets hard to breath. It's not just a "feeling" for me. My body actually takes over and physically it feels like I have no control over it. I feel hopeless and often times I don't know why. I feel scared that every bad thing that can happen will. My heart starts to beat really fast, therefore sending my breathing even faster. Does this sound familiar anyone? If not, I'm completely jealous of your "normal" life and I hate you all. Just kidding, seriously.....what's a "normal life" anyway? I wouldn't want that. *Sidenote...I'm not writing this for pity or attention, or any other reason except this.....that writing is one of this things I do that really helps my anxiety. Talking about it, being real, sharing my experiences, adding humor when I can...all of this helps me tremendously. The worst panic attack I ever had was when I was driving in a snow storm (an anxiety trigger of mine). I was by myself thank goodness, but I started to panic. My hands started going numb and at the wheel and I couldn't straighten my fingers. I started hyperventilating, and tumbling down into that black abyss. Luckily I was able to pull over at a rest stop. I tried getting out and walking, breathing long deep breaths, but it was all getting worse. This, being my worst attack by far, I actually called 911.  I thought I was having a heart attack, stroke, or any other life threatening occurrence. Ambulance came, I stayed inside the truck for about 45 minutes while they took my vitals, all which were good except my heart rate which started to come down. They talked to me in very calm voices and eventual I started getting my breath back and calming down. The snow storm miraculously dissipated which I called a "God sign" and I was able to drive the short 45 minutes home. That was one of my worst panic attacks to this day. This is real people. It happens, but it doesn't define us.
The crazy thing is about anxiety, is that the littlest stupid things can set you off. My daughter left with my mom for a week to Chicago for Spring break. It set my anxiety off and I started to think of everything that could go wrong. I had absolutely no control over the situation and that terrified me. It's not that I don't trust my mom, sis, bro in law, it's just my issues of just not knowing. Another thing that can set me off is reading an awful article on Facebook about a child that died or something to that affect.  Or sometimes.....sometimes life just gets really hard...right?...and you feel like it's swallowing you whole and you feel like you just can't do it anymore. Sound familiar anyone?
The past few months have been tough, hence this blog post. I had surgery right after we got back from our amazing vacation to The Dominican Republic. I had this same surgery on my right side about a 2 years ago. These are some of the many gruesome pictures...

 

Some of the pictures are from my surgery 2 years ago, and some from two months ago. So now I have matching scars, yay! I guess now I'm symmetrical. I had to have both of my Parotid glands taken out from both sides. They sit right under your ear and aid in saliva production. As a complete medical freak that I am, my doctor said that in his whole career, he's never had to do bilateral parotidectomies (taking both of them from each side out)  So congrats to me! It reiterates that I'm a super freak, super freak. You wanna know something else that makes me a medical anomaly? So when I had my surgery two years ago, when they take the gland out, the remaining nerve endings usually just die off. Well, mine didn't. Of course. Because it's me. And because I'm a super freak. My nerve endings attached to my sweat glands, yes, you heard me right. It's called Frey's syndrome, which in normal people terms, means that whenever I eat or chew anything, I sweat from my incision sight. No where else, just there. Like drip sweat.....glisten...whatever you want to call it. I have to have a paper towel when I eat just to wipe it away. Top that people. Super freak, super freak....cue the music. So it'll be interesting to see if the same thing happens on my left side. If it does, so help me, I'm entering myself into the guiness book of world records. I'll also have to just tap paper towels to my cheeks when I eat to absorb all the sweat from my incisions. Can't wait to see if that happens. Not.

Ok huh..... I actually wasn't going to go there on that last thing (the embarrassing sweat thing) but I just couldn't help it. I guess I've accepted it, for the most part. It just adds to my charm I guess? I think someone said that to me, I'm just not sure who. HA!

Anyway, I'm so getting off track. Squirrel!

So since my last surgery, the recovery process has been longer, more painful, more damage to my nerves (which is getting better thank goodness) and just harder. I can't do normal things like I used to be able to. It hurts to hold my 4 year old when he cuddles and lays his head on my shoulders. I can't sleep on my left side, which is ALWAYS the side I sleep on. I could go on and on. I'm otherwise healthy though. I know people have surgery all the time for far worse things, and I'm counting my blessings and very grateful that it wasn't something worse.  I'm not undermining the people who have worse surgeries, life threatening or cancer in any way.  I'm just talking about my experience and am thankful everything went well.

I had my first panic attack in front of the kids a few nights ago. Believe me, I try to shield them from it as much as I can, but it couldn't be helped. I was tucking them all in bed (all three wanted to sleep in Max's room, so two on the bed, one on the floor.) I don't know what brought it on, but I started panicking and crying and shaking and hyperventilating. I thought my kids would absolute freak out, but you know what they did? Max, who was next to me on the bed started rubbing my arm and saying "shhh, mama it's ok." and My oldest, Grace, said..."mom, you have to take deep long breaths. I do that when I'm upset, it was you who taught me that." Gabe, my middle son also told me that everything was going to be ok. And on it went. Grace even texted David who was on his way from work and told him what was happening. She told him that he needed to text me and tell me everything will be ok, because she knows it helps me when he says that to me. I was able to calm down. It was the most terrifying yet sweetest nights and I'll never forget it. So the next day I took a bath to try and calm down from (insert another panic attack.) Max was the only one home, so he sat in the bathroom and just talked to me about preschool and other things. When I got out, I was shivering I was so cold, even with a towel. So Max took another clean towel and dried off my legs to try and warm me up. He told me he wants me to be as warm as can be. This is something I do to him every time he takes a bath. It's those moments that I live for. It's those moments that slowly raise me up from that black whole and brings me back to life.

Holy shit, I didn't mean for this blog to get this long! I'm sorry for all of you who don't like long blogs! Just don't read it ;)

The point of the blog....well, I'm not really sure what the point is exactly. It's just therapeutic writing about it and being honest and transparent and saying fu%& the stigma of mental health. I have it. So what. Does that make me any less of a person? Nobody has told me that so far anyway, haha.

I've learned some coping skills throughout the years. Music, being a big one. Music transcends everything. Language, different countries, religion, and music can honestly help heal the soul. So I try and play guitar when I'm anxious....insert picture...

That's why I have my "music room" where I sit in every morning, drink my coffee and delight in all of the music lyrics on the wall. It's my "Happy place."

I also have the best husband. He doesn't have anxiety, depression, and hasn't experienced anything like what I go through. He has no idea what it feels like. But he knows what makes me happy, what makes me laugh, and he does his darnedest to help me out of my funk. Lately, he starts singing (really badly) and making up songs that are just crazy and silly and don't make any sense. He knows (for the most part) how to bring me out of the black hole. He also dances...and oh boy does he dance. I dare every one of you to watch one of the video's I took of him dancing not to smile or even laugh. It's contagious, it's amazing, yet it's so ludicrous! I think I should give you all the pleasure of what I get to see regularly.

Exercise is also a major help, but because I haven't been able to exercise since my surgery, well that hasn't exactly helped. Insert more anxiety.
I'm blessed to have the best Superfoods on the planet, and so far, my nutrition is the only really thing on point. Yay for Superfoods when you can't exercise!
So I'm going to end with this.
I have anxiety/depression and often debilitating panic attacks, but it doesn't define me.
So much of my anxiety is time spent on negative things, especially when it comes to myself. "I can't keep up with the laundry, I get too frustrated with my kids, I'm not a good leader, I can't draw good enough or run fast enough." "I'm not pretty enough, or smart enough." "I can't cook like I want to, or my house isn't nice enough." So much "I'm not, or I can't." So I'm going to end this blog on a high note, and explain everything that I AM instead of everything that I'm not. I hope I can inspire you all to do the same.

I am a mother. I am a wife. I am a Christian and a lover of God. I seek out the best in people. I am a musician, a song writer, a lover of finger picking. I am quirky and silly. I am fiercely loyal, a really good listener, empathetic and kind. I am a giver in every sense of the word. Sometimes too much.

But I am also vulnerable, soft, imperfect and insecure at times.  How boring would the world be if everyone was perfect? I mean, hello, have you seen Stepford Wives? No thank you.

I am also real, raw, and finally coming to terms with my body, specifically my body after 3 babies. However, I am and will always work on myself.

I am an athlete, a competitor.
Yes, I have anxiety and depression, but.....
I. Am. Strong.