2017 has been quite a shit year so far, from Trump to Sexism, Brexit to Fake News, it’s hardly been the New Year of dreams. Personally too, it’s been tough – sometimes, life is quite easy. You get up, make your way through the day reasonably happily and you feel like, ‘hey girl, you’re doing ok, you’ve got a handle on this!’ And then, other times you feel like you’re treading water, fighting losing battle after losing battle. Well hello there anxiety.
Do you ever feel like you’re screaming inside but on the outside you look like life’s a breeze?
That’s where I am right now.
I read something about the Chinese New Year being shitty if it’s your year and guess what? 2017 is the year of the rooster. And my opinion so far is, the rooster can do one.
It’s no wonder more and more people are being diagnosed with anxiety and depression, the cost of living is going through the (rented, who can afford a mortgage) roof, anyone who is under the age of 50 is unlikely to have any sort of pension that could sustain them in retirement age, in fact, lets not even worry about it really because I’m sure global warming will have finished us off before then.
For me, things have reached a peak, I have hit, what I suppose is my limit, and anymore stress that lands at my feet, or rather, on my head, feels like another nail in the coffin, so I need to do a few things to start to feel like me again. I need to write it down, it’s my form of therapy, even if no one reads it, the process of getting it from brain to screen helps me.
My marriage has been going through, what we will call, a rocky patch. We’ve been together for 20 years and during that time we’ve been through some things that would end other marriages. We skipped merrily through the 7 year itch and sailed past year 13 so I suppose we were due a bump in the road. Life is hard, bringing up kids, working, outside pressures all mount up. We’ll get through it, I’m positive of it, but before we come out the other side, we have a lot of emotional baggage and feelings to work through. Hello anxiety cause no.1.
My work situation is Shit. Yes, with a capital S. I thought I’d be happily working part time in a little admin job, with unassuming people. Except I’m not. And they’re not. Monday to Wednesday I feel sick to the stomach and, like a child trying to get out of their homework, I’m scrabbling for excuses not to go. But I have to. Because we have bills to pay, children to feed and lives to live.
My part time wages don’t cut any mustard when it comes to the big bills, but, it all helps, right? Where do you draw the line though? When does money become more important than happiness? (On that note, if anyone has any part time jobs they’d like to share, hit me up!).
Then there’s the outside stuff. The things that niggle at you day after day. Feeling unimportant, guilt over things you have no control of, other peoples assumptions, pressure to be something or someone you’re not, never quite being good enough, or, only good enough sometimes.
Get a Grip
I don’t think I’m depressed, far from it, there are moments in my life when I could burst with happiness, but I do suffer, and I am, right now suffering (for want of a better word) with anxiety.
I am physically and mentally exhausted. The smallest issue makes my heart pound in my chest and I start to feel dizzy. Ever feel like you’ve just run a race but you’ve not actually gone anywhere? Or, that you can’t escape your own thoughts, with each one building on the slow rise of panic until it all starts to overflow and before you know it you’re a sobbing, panicking mess? The sound of your own blood rushing around in your head can be deafening. How about feeling like you can’t talk about it with people because, really, what have YOU got to be anxious about?
Actually, a lot, you’d be surprised.
Sometimes it feels like the end of the world, sometimes it feels like an annoying itch I just can’t scratch. Today, it’s a slow bubble, something I need to get a handle on before it starts to get too much.
Life isn’t an Instagram filter, the funny ones (I count myself as one of those FYI) aren’t always laughing. I often think sarcasm has to come from a place of truth, otherwise, where else do those thoughts even begin? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and, even if people don’t understand why I feel the way I do, it’s important that I do (it’s also important that I say to those people, I don’t care what you think).
Even as I write these words, I’m deleting and re-writing, slowing myself down to make them calmer and more thought out. Inside my head however, I’m screaming at myself, “GET A GRIP WOMAN, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, NO ONE WILL BELIEVE YOU AND EVEN IF THEY DID, WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT”
Fun times no?