Anxiety – My Enemy or My Friend?

I think I’m a glutton for punishment. I have a hard time embracing down time, of which this pandemic has brought me ample amounts. I want purpose. Need it, even. And I find myself going through highs and lows – feeling super productive and purposeful, versus empty, lazy, and useless. Does the busy body in me help my mental state, or is it backfiring now?

Previously, every job I earned became a new obstacle to tackle, a new set of skills to learn, a way to earn my keep and feel like I’m contributing to something. But this attempt to create something out of nothing makes me feel like a superficial fraud. The smiles and encouraging remarks are genuine, but perhaps I’m saying it to myself more than anyone else. Maybe I need those words of encouragement.

I know that creating a business is hard work and you need a niche to fill in order to succeed. It feels like every skill I have is obsolete or part of a sector that is over saturated with others more skilled and experienced than me. It’s mentally taxing and requires immense effort to continue moving forward.

So I just keep busy with little things around the house to gain a sense of purpose. I’m April’s chauffer to and from school. I grocery shop. I cook, clean, and enforce self care habits. But it doesn’t feel like enough. I can’t sleep at night for worrying about the smallest conversation. How to talk about certain subjects without stepping on any toes. When should I go to the grocery store? What dinner will everyone like? Crap, did April brush her teeth? I forgot to finish loading the dishwasher. Guess I’ll vacuum tomorrow…

It all seems so miniscule, but it literally keeps me up at night. So I work on breathing and counting. I sip my nighttime tea before bed. I wear ear plugs. I chant in my head, “None of this matters. Just go to sleep.” Sometimes it works.

Anxiety has become an everyday entity in my life. It forces me to work. Apply to jobs. Edit photos. Post something online. Practice guitar. Clean the house. Prep dinner. Plan for tomorrow. Plan for the weekend. Plan for the week. Plan for the month.

And then we fall into a routine, I get restless, and I feel resentful over it. I feel like I’m pulling myself all over the place for everyone else, and no one seems to notice. I feel like if I don’t take charge, nothing will happen. No good nutritious dinners. Hair and dust everywhere. Dishes and laundry piled on the counters and floors. Does anyone else possess the foresight to see what I’m trying to prevent?

I feel like the adhesive holding together all the cracks in our upside down lives, but I’m beginning to loosen. My hold is beginning to fail.

So I take a break. Read. Force myself to do nothing (it’s sometimes torturous). Breathe. Slow down. Shut up, brain. Stop your ramblings. Stop planning.

And I start all over again.

It’s not that I don’t think I’m appreciated. I hear it every once in a while in a thank you. I feel it in the nonverbal actions. A hug. A kiss. A look in the eyes. I know life is just plain crazy right now. My partner works 12-14 hour days. What would he do without me? Do I need the validation every time? How exhausted is he? How much more flexible do I need to be for his needs? I have to step back and think beyond my everyday humdrum.

I wrote a song a few years ago about the struggles of being in a relationship where you feel so far apart. I keep telling myself, “This won’t last forever.” And I have to believe it. Every time I fall, I have to pick myself back up. Every time I panic, I need to breathe and talk myself back down. Every time I don’t feel valued, I have to find the value in me.

I’m still working on it. Everyday is a new day. I’m still trying to find my place, my happiness, my peace.