There is no grand finale. I left off with us moving back, right? Well, it has been a roller coaster. It has been hard. Each day we move forward, but many days it feels like we move back. But we don't stop.
It took me a while to get back here. I endured two really rough bouts with anxiety over the last week and finally got in to see my therapist today. That almost seems sugar coated.
Let me scrape off the sprinkles for you.
IT WAS HELL.
And that is just from my angle.
I don't want to try and view it from my husband's perspective.
Please do not make me think of my babies.
Everyone is safe. I am ok. I have a plan and I am on trajectory to keep moving forward.
No one has thrown in the towel yet.
But it was bad.
Really, really bad.
So what happens when it gets bad? Typically I hole away, close off, play pretend in public, cry in private. Life doesn't stop, even though I wish it would give me a damn break. No dice. We keep spinning. I immediately sought help. From my mother, from my husband (he tries so very hard), from my therapist. I went to yoga and found my breath. And then found it again in therapy.
Yes. My breath.
Did you know that breathing is one of the first things people claim changes during massive bouts of anxiety? For my therapist I will refrain from labeling these as "attacks" from this point forward. Anxiety is not an entity. It does not exist in its own right.
Breathing, then heart rate.
Now, did you know they are linked?
Of course, you smart cookie. But did you know you could control BOTH?
Yup. You can control them.
Don't believe me?
Grab a pulse oximeter, plop it on your finger.
Now breathe in and slowly breathe out. Do this a few times.
Notice anything? It works better if the damned thing beeps...loudly.
Did your beeps change?
I thought so.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Best therapy session ever. Yoga also gave me that. Funny how something so simple can have such big effects. As simple as finding your breath.
I don't breathe enough, particularly slow exhales. It only takes a few to reset our systems.