I always tell my therapist that living with anxiety is like living with a toddler inside my head. Anxiety behaves like a toddler. It screams and yells and says mean things, and doesn't listen when you try to be logical. If you can hang on and not give into the anxiety long enough on a good day, it gives up. Other days, when the anxiety is having a particularly persistent day, you may end up lying in the floor, crying while the anxiety continues to scream.
As a result of thinking of the anxiety as a misbehaving toddler, as my anxiety levels rise, I find myself saying a lot, "No, no, it's okay. You're fine. Everything is fine." I tell myself that everything is fine, and then I try to ignore my anxiety, much like a parent might ignore bad behavior until the misbehaving kid moves on to something else. I just pretend everything is fine, and I don't acknowledge the anxiety until the anxiety drops off, which may take anywhere from a few minutes to a few days.
My therapist pointed out that sometimes, when I don't recognize and acknowledge the anxiety that I'm feeling that I could be just feeding the anxiety. That sounds weird, right? Well, she explained that by pretending I was fine while my brain was going haywire with thoughts and my body was shoved into overdrive with anxiety's physical sensations, while I'm sitting there just telling myself that I'm fine, I may be just adding to the anxiety.
How am I adding to my anxiety by pretending I'm fine? Because anxiety is a feeling that I experience, and all of my feelings need to be acknowledged and recognized whether I want to feel them or not. Not acknowledging it and recognizing it sort of means it stresses me more because on top of the anxiety I'm feeling, I have added the pressure to not be anxious, which just makes me feel the anxiety and think about it more. Basically, I'm sending myself the message that it's not okay experience anxiety. Also, the longer the anxiety goes the more gruesome, more frequent, and more terrifying my OCD intrusive thoughts become.
My therapist suggested that, when I experience the anxiety, I should acknowledge the feelings, like the racing heart and chest pain and sweaty palms and tingling hands and feet. Then I should recognize that I didn't do anything wrong that made them happen. Anxiety just happens, much like a sudden headache or muscle cramp. Then I just have to tell myself that feeling anxiety isn't necessarily bad because my body is just functioning the way it's supposed to function, just in overdrive.
I had never thought of anxiety as a thing that wasn't a bad thing until she said that. Anxiety is just the body functioning properly, but it's in overdrive. It's not bad that that happens sometimes. So, it's not a bad thing to acknowledge when it happens instead of pretending that it isn't happening. I mean, toddlers have bad days, and when parents admit that their toddler is having a bad day, it's probably easier to deal with than when they try to pretend everything is fine and they so totally aren't frustrated with the situation. (I also have to admit that realizing anxiety is just my body functioning normally, but in overdrive, might make me less terrified that my anxiety will kill me while I'm home alone.)
I'll end with this: It's okay to admit to yourself that you aren't totally fine. It's okay to admit that your anxiety is having a terrible two's kind of day. Admitting that to yourself is actually a way to get a tiny bit of distance between yourself and your body in overdrive so you can do what you need to do manage it and get to a better place. It's also a kindness to yourself to admit that you're not fine in the moment so you can give yourself an extra bit of compassion and self care instead of adding the pressure to JUST BE FINE ALREADY.
Wednesday, July 19, 2017
Wednesday, July 5, 2017
We Don't Talk About That
This past week, I spent some time with some old family friends that are more like family than friends. We discuss a whole range of topics. Mental health is one of those topics that tends to come up as some of the people in that group (aside from me) also struggle with anxiety and other mental health conditions. We're not shy about exchanging stories, therapist information, or medication/natural remedies that we have found to be helpful.
This time was a little different. Someone in the group had gotten married in the not-so-distant past, and their husband (whom I had only met a couple of times before this) was part of the group this time. As the topic of mental health came up and we were discussing anxiety issues (mine and one of the teen's anxiety struggles) the husband said in a perturbed tone to his wife, "We don't talk about this." This man acted like the family's struggle with mental health was the elephant in the room everyone pretends doesn't exist over an awkward Thanksgiving dinner. (His wife waved that off, explained that we were family, and the conversation continued.)
This new person acted like mental health was an embarrassing topic, that you hide from other people, like mental health struggles are a dirty little secret. Mental health isn't an embarrassing, dirty little secret. Mental health is simply a health issue that requires treatment just like any physical illness. I'm never embarrassed to talk about my struggle with OCD and Panic Disorder. Why should I be, especially if talking about it could possibly help even one person?
Here is my other problem with what this new person said: if they aren't talking about the mental health struggle that affects this whole family, how do they expect anything to get better? Mental health conditions might only be diagnosed in one person in a family unit, but that diagnosis impacts the entire family unit. Everyone in that family unit should talk about it and make changes as needed to achieve and maintain wellness for the whole family. When one person in a family struggles with a mental health condition, the whole family tends to feel just as helpless and lost as the person with the actual diagnosis sometimes.
Here is another problem: how does that attitude that mental health struggles are a family's dirty little secret make the person with the mental health condition feel? My guess is that it made that person not feel good. Did that attitude make the person feel embarrassed of their mental health? It could have. Did that attitude make the person feel like something is wrong with them, like they should be ashamed? It could have.
Even though the mother still wanted to have a discussion on the topic of mental health, she explained some time later that the teen in question didn't really like to talk about it with people. (The teen was mostly absent during the conversation.) That I understand because some people are just very private people, but I still don't think the new husband should have seemed embarrassed or perturbed by. He could have said, "Well, (insert name) doesn't really like to talk about it," instead of acting embarrassed or irritated by the topic. So, I was left to wonder if the teen not talking about it had more to do with her step-parent's attitude or her own wishes.
Either way, I still feel bothered by the "we don't talk about that" attitude surrounding mental health. Mental health is something that we all NEED to talk about, especially within our own families. Families should be a safe place to openly discuss if something isn't quite right or if you're having a bad mental health day, without feeling ashamed or embarrassed. Healing isn't going to take place until acceptance and kindness take place.
I'll end with this: Mental health conditions aren't a family's embarrassing, dirty little secret. Mental health conditions are just that, health conditions, like any physical illness that the person didn't ask for. Making them feel embarrassed and ashamed for talking about their mental health condition is unkind, and honestly, it can prevent them from seeking help and/or taking medications that they may need to function at a high level. That said, it's totally fine to set boundaries for who with and when you want to talk about your mental health as long as you aren't doing it out of embarrassment or shame.
This time was a little different. Someone in the group had gotten married in the not-so-distant past, and their husband (whom I had only met a couple of times before this) was part of the group this time. As the topic of mental health came up and we were discussing anxiety issues (mine and one of the teen's anxiety struggles) the husband said in a perturbed tone to his wife, "We don't talk about this." This man acted like the family's struggle with mental health was the elephant in the room everyone pretends doesn't exist over an awkward Thanksgiving dinner. (His wife waved that off, explained that we were family, and the conversation continued.)
This new person acted like mental health was an embarrassing topic, that you hide from other people, like mental health struggles are a dirty little secret. Mental health isn't an embarrassing, dirty little secret. Mental health is simply a health issue that requires treatment just like any physical illness. I'm never embarrassed to talk about my struggle with OCD and Panic Disorder. Why should I be, especially if talking about it could possibly help even one person?
Here is my other problem with what this new person said: if they aren't talking about the mental health struggle that affects this whole family, how do they expect anything to get better? Mental health conditions might only be diagnosed in one person in a family unit, but that diagnosis impacts the entire family unit. Everyone in that family unit should talk about it and make changes as needed to achieve and maintain wellness for the whole family. When one person in a family struggles with a mental health condition, the whole family tends to feel just as helpless and lost as the person with the actual diagnosis sometimes.
Here is another problem: how does that attitude that mental health struggles are a family's dirty little secret make the person with the mental health condition feel? My guess is that it made that person not feel good. Did that attitude make the person feel embarrassed of their mental health? It could have. Did that attitude make the person feel like something is wrong with them, like they should be ashamed? It could have.
Even though the mother still wanted to have a discussion on the topic of mental health, she explained some time later that the teen in question didn't really like to talk about it with people. (The teen was mostly absent during the conversation.) That I understand because some people are just very private people, but I still don't think the new husband should have seemed embarrassed or perturbed by. He could have said, "Well, (insert name) doesn't really like to talk about it," instead of acting embarrassed or irritated by the topic. So, I was left to wonder if the teen not talking about it had more to do with her step-parent's attitude or her own wishes.
Either way, I still feel bothered by the "we don't talk about that" attitude surrounding mental health. Mental health is something that we all NEED to talk about, especially within our own families. Families should be a safe place to openly discuss if something isn't quite right or if you're having a bad mental health day, without feeling ashamed or embarrassed. Healing isn't going to take place until acceptance and kindness take place.
I'll end with this: Mental health conditions aren't a family's embarrassing, dirty little secret. Mental health conditions are just that, health conditions, like any physical illness that the person didn't ask for. Making them feel embarrassed and ashamed for talking about their mental health condition is unkind, and honestly, it can prevent them from seeking help and/or taking medications that they may need to function at a high level. That said, it's totally fine to set boundaries for who with and when you want to talk about your mental health as long as you aren't doing it out of embarrassment or shame.
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