The Good Life

And I’m not talking about the warm hearted kind, either. The journey to accepting that I actually have anxiety has been humbling and soul bearing to say the least. I’ve been in denial for years. In fact, I never even thought I had anxiety until about three months ago when my husband said it point blank to me across our bedroom one night. Like it was a fact. And in true Lindsay form, I stopped and stared at him blankly for a good few long seconds and then denied it. “No I don’t! I’m just stressed. You don’t even know!” And I probably rolled my eyes and quickly found something for me to keep busy with off my long “to-do” list. The stress part was partly true. I’ve always been uptight, overwhelmed, worrying about anything and everything, and just stressed to the max. My family lovingly calls me “NFL” or better known as “No Fun Lindsay.” That’s the way I’ve always functioned. Loading my plate too full. Leading myself to my breaking point too many times. I create lists, set goals, and am always working towards something. Rarely will you see me just sitting on the couch. But that night’s conversation with Andrew changed everything.

To admit that I had anxiety meant that I wasn’t perfect (which is ridiculous because I know HE has made me perfect). That I couldn’t do it all. That I was struggling. That I was failing. It was too crushing to even let myself look into the idea of what my husband just said. This couldn’t be. I just needed more “me time”. I needed to let loose. I needed to let things go. All sorts of excuses were running through my mind…

What was anxiety anyway? From what I heard from family and friends, it was associated with anxiety attacks…which at the time I couldn’t recall ever having had any. So because I never really had any serious anxiety attack, and I am always stressed…that must be it. Yeah, that was it.

Wrong.

After I denied that I had anxiety, Andrew wouldn’t let it go. I put it on him to tell me what he saw. What he thinks is anxiety. Everything he described, I was able to counter back and have an explanation for how I reacted and why I reacted that way. Remember all those excuses before? “I didn’t sleep that night…I had a hard day at work…I didn’t get any help in the morning…and so on.” We got to the point in our conversation where we weren’t really going anywhere else. So I finally said, “What do you want me to do?!” At that point in our marriage, we had already had the conversation that I needed to go to the gym a few times a week to de-stress and help me feel good about myself again after having a baby, we had already talked about how having three kids has been a huge adjustment for me and I need extra help even though I don’t say it, we had already talked about how I take out my stress on him, we had already talked about how I need as much help in the morning since Andrew gets to work before the kids even wake up…I didn’t know what else to do. I felt like I had tried everything, but I was always still so on edge. And here is my husband telling me I have anxiety for the first time. What did he know? He’s never had anxiety. He doesn’t have the same stressors as I do every day. Why would he say this to me? I was hurt, obviously. When I asked him what else I should do, his response was calm and simple, “You should go talk to someone about it…” Feeling like I had tried everything else besides going to my doctor, I agreed. “Okay. I’ll go and tell her everything. That’s the one thing I haven’t tried.” I honestly deep down just agreed to prove that he was going to be wrong. I was going to prove to him by my doctor’s diagnosis of not having anxiety that I was right about myself all along!

I went downstairs and made the phone call. It took all of three minutes to schedule an appointment with my primary doctor, who I love. She’s been with me before and throughout both pregnancies with the boys, she is also all the kids’ doctor, and she saw me after I had Hunter when I thought maybe I was having postpartum depression. She gets me. I can be honest with her and she is so comforting and knowledgeable, and I always leave feeling better than when I walked in. Side note, she also has three boys herself and is a working Mom…so she gets it, you know?

My appointment was in two days. In those two days, I was mentally preparing for what I was going to say. What should I share? What was important for her to know? I did what I do best: I made a list. Four lists, actually. I made a list of: how I feel day to day, how I want to feel instead, everything that I am responsible for in the day that causes me stress, and what I’ve tried so far on my own to help with my stress. Four sticky notes filled to the brim with my notes to cover while I’m there. I checked in and waited nervously in the doctor’s office. I filled out their survey and didn’t think much of it. She came in with a smile and we started talking. I told myself that no matter what, I owed it to myself and my family to be honest. I quickly pulled out my sticky note lists and she laughed. I said I wanted to make sure I covered everything and didn’t miss anything while I was there! She read them quietly and placed them on the side counter. She asked me, “Tell me in your own words why you wanted to come in today.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Keep it together, Lindsay.

“This last year has been rough. I’ve spent a lot of time taking care of everyone in my family and trying to help them get through their health struggles. My husband had spinal surgery, another minor surgery but was out for two weeks, I started back up at work, Everett’s health declining quickly after birth, getting his diagnosis and trying to get his treatment on track, Hunter having double ear infections every few weeks, getting tubes put in, Logan is struggling with other issues outside her health, and those are just the big things. That’s not even the little day to day things I tackle. I feel like everyone in my family is on the right track and I need to now take care of myself. In order to continue being there for everyone else, I need to stop and work on some things that are affecting my health.” She acknowledged that this past year has had many difficulties. We began talking about examples of what causes my stress and how I react. This was hard. This was where I had to admit my faults. I had to be honest about things I was ashamed I had let myself do or say. Things I try to forget and hope my family knows I don’t mean it.

Here is what I shared with her:

Feeling like I am constantly holding my breath, and not realizing it.

Feeling like I am always on edge. Every little sound tests my patience.

Feeling like I’m always in “fight or flight” mode.

Feeling like I can’t get anything accomplished because “I’m stuck.”

Feeling like I take everything, no matter how big or small, out on Andrew.

Feeling like at times, someone snaps the endcap of the fire hydrant off and I’m standing there trying to breath.

Feeling like I never have enough time.

Feeling like my to-do lists are never ending.

Feeling like my jaw is clenched all the time even when nothing stressful is going on.

Feeling like one little thing going wrong, or something not going according to my plan for that day is really the end of the world. I just can’t get out of a funk the rest of the day.

Cancelling plans before we even get out the door. It’s just too much to make it happen.

Feeling like I jump to my emotions before I think it through.

Feeling like I am in this alone, but I don’t want to tell anyone.

Feeling like I can push through this, I just need to work harder.

Feeling like I need to walk away for a minute before I can come back into the room if I’m overwhelmed.

Feeling like I’m not the Mom, wife, or friend that I thought I would be.

Feeling ashamed for letting the worst of myself get the best of me.

Feeling like I focused on the negative more than the positive.

Feeling like I just wasn’t myself anymore.

When I finished I told her that I felt like I wasn’t able to get day to day things done, and it just didn’t make sense to me. I’ve always been able to get everything done. She replied, “You are managing to get everything done. You are! But, it’s at a cost. Lindsay, you do have anxiety. You are managing it, but you don’t have to keep it in all the time.”

I really don’t remember much after that. She said the A word. I know we talked about things I can do or ways to improve my anxiety. We made a plan and I was committed to following it, but this crushed me. I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. I didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone. They would know, right? I walked to the car and saw that Andrew had text me while I was in the doctor’s office waiting for me to fill him in on how it went. As soon as I was in the safety of my car, I called him. I summarized the visit and what she had said. He asked “Well, how do you feel?” I clearly remember saying, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I was angry that this was my reality. I was in denial that she implied that I had a fault. I was bitter that the only reason I had come was because I wanted to show Andrew that he was wrong.

But, he was right.

I remember crying on the drive home. When I came in the door, Andrew came to hug me. We had a good heart to heart about it all in the living room, and I opened up to him. I knew that this was part of my story. As much as I wanted to fight it, I needed to embrace it in order to make progress. This was Day #1 of my journey back to myself. I will never be my “old self” because I am always moving forward, but this was my journey to my best self. I couldn’t do it alone. I needed to let Andrew in. I needed the support and encouragement along the way.

So here I am, three months later and I can’t believe how far I’ve come. It’s really night and day. Things that would have stressed me out, don’t have that much impact anymore. Slowly but surely, my days have gotten lighter. I can breathe again. I’m no longer holding my breath all the time. I am enjoying the moments that make up my crazy day. I’m not perfect, and I do have days that I get in a funk. I know that I am on the path to becoming the best version of myself that I can be, but it takes being honest with myself and listening to what those who love me looking on the outside-in have to say. Listen to them. Especially when you don’t want to hear it or believe it. I know my story is not the same as others’ who have experienced anxiety, but I hope that being honest and really putting myself out there can help someone else who may be feeling the way I did a few months ago. It’s been on my heart to share this side of me, the side I’m really not proud of. Every time I think of my anxiety, it reminds me about my co-workers who have said many times that I’m like a Disney princess who has little birds singing around her as she walks. Or, I’ve had people say that they are impressed that I can “do it all”. Or, that I’m always smiling and in a good mood. I’m writing this to share another side that most people don’t see. A side that I don’t show all too often. But the truth is, I’m real. I’m flawed. And that’s okay, because…

I’m loved.

I’m forgiven.

And you are too.

And if you’re feeling anything like what I described from a few months ago, you are not alone. We’re in this together 💗

Love,

Lindsay