Monday, February 28, 2011


I'm just anxious. There are reasons for the anxiety that I'm quite clear about and make perfect sense (you don't need a list), and reasons that are nothing short of ridiculous, but are nonetheless causing me great angst. I spent a full night tossing and turning over what Rojo will wear to high school IN SEPTEMBER, because he currently wears a uniform with elastic waist thingies that allow him to just pull them up and never have to button or unbutton, or bother with a belt. When Rojo has free dress he wears elastic waisted sweat pants. In high school I want him to wear jeans, just like the other boys, and I've yet to see a pair of elastic waisted jeans in the men's department, actually, I have, but not in the stores/men's departments from which I intend to make a purchase. Got myself all in a stew about it before STM noticed I was a wreck and asked me what my problem was.

"What will Rojo wear to high school?" I blurted out.

"You mean, in SEPTEMBER?" he asked, incredulously. "Don't you have things you need to worry about that are going to happen today or tomorrow? Why are you on September??"

Well, there is no short answer to that question. I have been "on" September 2011 for about four years, and there is no question that is a major underlying cause of my anxiety. When STM realized that yes, indeed, the sheer panic was coming from something that was over six months away, he quickly came to a reasonable solution. "We'll just buy him jeans that are long enough, and have a tailor take them in, or put in elastic somehow so he can still just pull them up without unbuttoning them or wearing a belt."

Hadn't thought of that.

And therein lies my problem. I have 1001 worries that go head-to-head with the elastic waist crisis, but zero solutions. I cannot get my brain to unhook from the panic, long enough to explore solutions.

Often when I get myself all worked up about nothing, I think of all the people in my community dealing with serious, life and death type issues. I couldn't throw a stone from my front porch without it hitting someone with MUCH bigger problems than I am dealing with. And while that really helps me on one level, it only adds to the anxiety on another, then I have just one more thing to feel anxious about, my lack of appreciation, realization and gratitude of my relatively easy life.

Three years ago I withdrew from my anti-anxiety meds. I hesitated at the time chronicling that whole thing, but I'm glad that I did. Ever since, I've had people come up to me and tell me about their own anxiety, their own medications, and their own withdrawal stories. The withdrawal alone was enough to make me swear I'd never again consider going back on any SSRI. I am still not considering an SSRI, but the tools that have served me well, for the most part, these past three years, are not quite enough now. I need more tools. The tools I add may include going back to yoga, may include more time on the meditation cushion with mindful breathing, may include a visit to the naturopath for something to help, may include starting Beer O'Clock a little earlier each day, I'm not sure just yet. Right now all that I know is that I'm anxious, and perhaps touching that with gentle awareness is all that I'm called to do at this time.

* Photo from


Anonymous said...

That last sentence is so perfect, for you and for me, thank you.

Anonymous said...

A woman I loved and admired greatly, who had more than her share of heartache, once told me: "Just because my life is worse than yours, doesn't mean that the things that are bothering you aren't valid." It was nice to have permission to wallow in my own problems, and sort of made me feel better about it all.

Wishing you happiness and ease.


Wanda said...

Two words: phosphatidyl serine.

Love STM...and you.

kario said...

Oh, dear. I'm currently coming through my second withdrawal from SSRIs and hate, hate, hate it. I wish I could swear I'd never go on them again, but I can't say that.

Find yourself a local Reiki practitioner, and make nice.
Then spend more time looking up. I mean, tipping your head back and looking up - it stimulates a different part of your brain that actually combats anxiety and depression.
Third, the thing that I keep coming back to is that once I start to spin (on things like elastic-waist pants), if I sit down and follow my catastrophic predictions to their most absurd conclusion, it often gives me a lot of comfort.

I love you and I'm here for you - anxious or not. Medicated or not.

Anonymous said...

You are not a weak person. Worry is a weak persons excuse for inaction. You are one of the strongest people I know. Action in the place of worry even if it's just telling someone what you are worried about is enough. Why do women beat themselves up so much.

Written with love.

Elizabeth said...

sending love -- and all the right stuff --

you will be good -- so will Rojo -- so will his jeans --

Retiredandcrazy said...

I know that if I think back on all the times I have been wrought with anxiety the end result was never as I expected. This helps me to stay grounded and know that if I do the right things the solution will present itself. Plan ahead, but don't plan the outcome.

Deb Shucka said...

Awareness is always the first, and often the hardest, step. Sending you prayers and love. said...

Elastic pants for everyone! Go STM! I love men for their practicality and for not being sucked into the drama, even when we want them to be.

No advice. Just love. and always having your back. Period.

Anonymous said...

acupuncture can also be very helpful.

M in Vancouver

deb colarossi said...

I wanted to say something wise and helpful , but mostly want you to know that I listened. Hope that helps in some way.
And that you can try some things and if they don't work, try some other things. Be gentle on yourself.


Me said...

I get overly anxious right around this time of year too. After a few years I realized it was because all my yearly check-ups are due - mammogram, GYN, dermatologist - all the doctors that throw me into "what if" thinking. YUCK!

Amber said...

Anxiety is such a stupid bitch. I'd like to muffin punch anxiety.

(...But then I worry I might break my hand, or get sued. ;) )

love. From me to you.