Learning to Let Go of My Anxiety

I haven't been shy when it comes to talking about my anxiety on this blog. It's a problem that I deal with every day and I've been working for years to try to overcome it. And for the first time in my life, I feel like I have somewhat of a handle on it. That's not to say that it's gone because it isn't. But I feel like I'm moving in the right direction and learning how to silence its voice.

My mother said to me earlier today that I sound a lot calmer than I used to and to be honest, I feel a lot calmer, too. My recent therapy sessions have helped me immensely but to be honest, I credit a lot of my progress to my son. A few weeks after I had him, I developed post partum depression. It only lasted a few weeks and it didn't progress as much as it does for some women (thankfully). But during the first few months of my son's life, I didn't get to experience the constant joy and euphoria that women often describe after giving birth. I loved my son and I loved being with him. I was so happy to have him and so happy to be his mother. But I couldn't shake the feelings of sadness, hopelessness and shame that I felt.

During many of his naps, I would sob and berate myself for not "snapping out of it". I was in a rut and over time, those feelings subsided. At first, I was embarrassed for being so emotional and eventually that turned into sadness because I realized how many moments of happiness that depression took from me. Now, when I look back on my son's first few months, I won't only remember his first smile or first laugh. I'll remember the sadness that consumed me, as well as the joy.

Once I recovered and realized just what was taken from me, I realized that I also didn't want anxiety to take anything else from me. Anxiety has caused me so much heartache over the years and I've lost countless hours of my life worrying about things that never happened. Having my son has shown me not only how beautiful life is but how quickly it goes by. And even though I've always wanted to get rid of my anxiety, I've never wanted it more. When I look back on his childhood, I don't want to remember panic attacks and endless worrying. I want to remember being present in every moment and letting go of any needless worries. I want to remember happiness, not anxiety. So I'm not only doing this for me. I'm doing this for my son, too.

That's not to say that it will be easy but I'll take it one step at a time. I believe that it's possible to live in a world where anxiety isn't pulling my puppet strings. I once told my therapist that I feel like anxiety is holding me prisoner in my own mind. She told me, "Chelsea, you might be in a prison. But you're not the prisoner. You're the warden and you have the key. You have the power to unlock the door and let yourself out." Those words have stuck with me and every day, as I work harder on conquering my anxiety, I get one step closer to the door.

Whenever I feel like my anxiety is forcing me to do something that I don't want to do, my mother asks me, "Don't you just want to be happy?" It's amazing how simple statements can have a profound impact on you. I do want to be happy. I really do. And my anxiety not only hasn't allowed me to be happy but it's told me that I don't deserve to be happy. But that's not true. I do, just as much as anyone else. I realize that anxiety can be crippling and at times and you might feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. But I promise you, you have the strength inside of you to come out on top. Therapy has helped me immensely. It's given me the tools to fight back, when before I was unarmed. The journey doesn't happen overnight and I'm still on it. But when the destination is happiness and a life without anxiety, it is worth every second.

My anxiety has been with me for so long that it almost feels like it's just part of my personality. I often have to remind myself that it's not. It's not part of me; it's just something that I live with. During this past year, I've really come to know and love myself. And one thing that I've learned is that I'm not my anxiety and my anxiety doesn't define me. I have so much life ahead of me and the knowledge that anxiety doesn't have to be a part of it is comforting and freeing. And I can't wait to see who I become without it. One day, when someone asks how I'm doing, I'll be able to say "happy" instead of "anxious" and that knowledge keeps me going.

I Hope You Can See Past My Anxiety

A few weeks ago, I was watching a movie with my husband and one of the characters was talking about all of the different things they were worried about. They were starting a new job and they started listing all of the things that could possibly go wrong. One of the other characters looks at her and says, "Is that what you want written on your tombstone? 'She worried a lot'?" And I haven't been able to get that line out of my head ever since.

Because I related to that. Everybody that knows me, and I mean really knows me, knows how anxious and scared I am. Confrontation is usually my worst nightmare. I have a hard time sticking up for myself. I overthink everything. I have a terribly low self-esteem. And whenever I have to do something, I always imagine, just like the movie character, every possible thing that could go wrong. Being anxious tends to be seen by others as one of my most dominant personality traits. My close friends, the ones who really know and understand who I am, know this and they accept me for who I am. I can't put into words how happy I am that I have friends that love and accept every part of me. But I wish that they didn't see me as anxious and quite frankly, I wish that I didn't see myself that way either.

There is so much more to me than that. I am far from perfect but I strive every single day to be the good person that my parents raised me to be. My anxiety is only one part of me but there are days when I feel like it overshadows everything else about me. And when that happens, it makes it really hard for me to feel like I'm a strong person. I wish that every time anxiety preyed on my biggest fears and insecurities that I could tell it to take a hike and just tune it out. But that's not the reality. It's something I constantly have to work on and I do every single day. I've overcome a lot in my life and I know that life is only going to get harder as I get older. The rest of the world makes life hard enough without me making it even harder on myself. But for some reason, it's a lot easier to listen to fear than it is to listen to hope.

I've allowed anxiety to take way too much of my time away from me by constantly contemplating the question, "What could go wrong?" When instead of that, I should've been asking myself, "What if things go right?" Although it's an internal battle, it gets shown on the outside too because my anxiety is visible to everyone in my circle. When people are placed in groups, people tend to know them by their roles. One person might be the prissy one. Another person might be the nerdy one. The list goes on and on. People put labels on others, almost without even meaning to. And as I think about that movie line, all I can hope was that in my group of friends I wasn't known as "the anxious one".

I'm an athlete. I'm silly. I'm kind. I'm a bookworm. I'm smart. I'm a writer. I'm compassionate. I'm hard-working. I'm a perfectionist. And so much more. And I really hope that's what people really see when they look at me. Maybe over time, I'll see myself that way and I won't use the word anxious to describe me.

Ironically, my anxiety normally comes from a good place, I think. It normally comes from me wanting to make sure that I don't hurt anyone's feelings or that I don't disappoint anyone. I stress about how every situation in my life is not only going to affect me but affect others. It eats away at me and tears at me until it starts to affect me physically. Over time, I've gotten much better about handling it, even though it may not sound like it. I'm proud of the progress that I've made over the years and thankfully, I had an incredible therapist that gave me tools to help make things easier for me.

But even still, it's a problem that I must deal with and whenever I learn that someone else I know deals with anxiety, I try to let them know that they're not alone. Knowing that I'm not alone in my struggles has been a tremendous help for me. Even though I struggle with anxiety, I know there is nothing wrong with me. And I hope that everyone else struggling with anxiety knows that there is nothing wrong with them either.

I don't know what people say about me when I'm not around and I don't know how they'd describe me to a person that's never met me. I have no control over that but I do wonder. My anxiety is a part of me but I don't see it as a personality trait. I see it as a hurdle that I have to overcome. I hope that one day, I won't see myself this way. I can only hope that everyone else sees past my anxiety and sees who I truly am as a person. A person with flaws and imperfections but truly strives to make the world a better place and be a positive influence on everyone around them.

-Chelsea