Today… again

Yesterday I was tired. Yesterday I had had enough… though the enough happened quite a while ago… I guess it just caught up with me… again.

Yesterday I was overwhelmed and consumed. I let simple words intended as good advice, to penetrate my skin and anger and frustration boiled from my core. I wanted to scream,

“Fuck you! Fuck your healthy diets and your exercise regimens. Fuck your 8hrs of sleep and your parenting books. Fuck meditation and any version of faith. Fuck every morsel of advise and tid bit of knowledge. Fuck good intentions and monumental efforts. All of it is for naught and bad shit happens anyway… no matter how many pews you kneel at or how many vitamins you take. So eat the cake, drink the cocktails and stop pretending that you have control. It’s all a lie anyway!”

Though I didn’t believe those words, I thought them. They bubbled up inside me from disappointment and defeat. That ‘one more piece of advice’ felt like one more empty promise from the universe waiting to happen, one more thing that I hadn’t done right, one more “You’re pretty good… but not good enough.” It wasn’t them, it was me. And in that moment I couldn’t see all that was right. I could only see inadequacy.

I didn’t scream those things that I thought. Instead, I held it in like I so often do. Sometimes I wonder with all the holding in I do, what will give first, my heart, my cells or my sanity.

Only this time I couldn’t hold it all in, and my self defeat came oozing out of my tear ducts- first one drop and then two… and then a stream, pouring down my face. I hate crying. It takes me to a place of vulnerability that is uncomfortable. Though I do it more when I’m alone than anyone knows.

I suppose the good thing about crying in front of others is that it always seems to shift the energy and it brings a glimpse of authenticity to the moment. Sometimes it also affords me words of affirmation from others- words that I cling to. And even though I hate how much I need them… I will re-read and replay them in my head a hundred times, bathing in them like a tub of glue, mending my broken pieces, until I feel whole, again.

Today the glue is still a little tacky… but the tears have dried and the boil within me has calmed again. Today is a new day. And I am reminded that all is not lost and blessings remain a bounty. The journey to ones best self is never easy or simple and it’s never a straight line. It’s a lot of ‘get back up and try again’s.

Though tired I still am…

Today I stood extra long in the steaming shower… again. Today, I turned on the sound machine… and in my mind, began building my meditative imaginary land of tranquility, again. Today I chose veggies over chips and water over wine. And I cooked and journaled and napped … again.

Perhaps tomorrow awaits tremendous joy and blessings and this shift will help me better receive that. Or perhaps tomorrow lurches another blow and today’s self care will give me the energy I need to handle it.

If worry is useless rumination of the past and anxiety is pointless fear of the future… then I have wasted far too much time in the wrong places. So, here’s to today… again.

Learning to Listen to Myself: A Lesson in Self-care and Self-awareness

img_7448I was a tremendously busy person not long ago… four jobs, kids-biological, step and foster, animals-mostly rescued (it’s a zoo), and a million activities and outside interests… like tentacles of a twenty- armed octopus, all tugging and grabbing, competing for a slice of me, drawing from me every last drop of energy. I was tired; but I was also to some extent, very content. While it was a juggling act, I was handling it. My job reviews were good, vacations still happened, and I was able to maintain loving and meaningful relationships and human connections. I felt accomplished- tackling my goals and providing for my family. And the nature and diversity of my life interests brought me a lot of fulfillment.

As for my stamina… somehow, for those 2+ years, it seemed, I was able to produce new fuel as fast as I was burning it. I think I knew it was a momentum that I couldn’t sustain for long. So I told myself… “Just one more semester to teach… One more house project to pay for… One more goal to reach…” But what I didn’t realize, was that by burning off each drop of fuel as soon as I produced it, I was forever running on an empty tank. With no reserves, I had nothing to fall back on when life dealt me a hand that would require every ounce of energy just to put one foot in front of the other. It was life circumstances, a tragic sequence of events that forced me to slow down, forced me to listen.

And it was Me, that I had to learn to listen to.

With no reserves, no time, a terrible habit of hearing my inner voices and not my inner-self….and…in the midst of one of my greatest crises… I embarked on the journey of self-awareness, because if I didn’t… I wasn’t going to make it out in one piece.

The first step in this process was the initiation of self-care. Yes that’s right… the person who often blogs about grief and tragedy and taking care of other people was TERRIBLE at self-care. Sure, I had writing and an average of two travel escapades a year… but even those, I performed with high standards that I placed upon myself. Blogging is not the same as free and unedited writing and traveling with typed itineraries is not a pick-up and go, sit and relax kind of vacation. The two things I attributed to self-care, I discovered, hardly qualified as such.

I had to find new ways of being kind to myself.

It started with cutting back on work… drastically. I also stopped my kids’ extracurricular activities- the non-stop running around was wearing us all out. With less money coming in, cutting costs also made sense. For my child who needed the physical outlet- good ol’ fashioned bike riding and running filled the gap; and we supplemented with add-on weekend activities such as rock- climbing, when we felt up to it.

I learned how to say “No”. “No” to activities that were too much to take on. “No” to people that added stress or drama or who simply didn’t feed calm into my soul. Self-preservation does a really good job at helping to define relationships and life’s priorities.

But those actions merely gave me back time… the next step in my journey, was filling that time with activities that nurtured my body and soul.

So I started doing things that allowed my mind brief escapes from the stress, without completely avoiding it. I painted rocks. I took hikes in the woods and stopped to listen to the birds and rushing water. I picked up an adult coloring book and began journaling. Instead of structured blog posts, I got back into writing poetry. I started taking baths- the ones that are extra hot and extra long and have nothing to do with cleaning and everything to do with relaxation. I learned various relaxation and meditation techniques and began incorporating them into my daily life. And my husband and I even took a four day escape to Puerto Rico where, gasp I had no itinerary and spent most of my time swinging in a hammock and listening to the leaves rustle and the frogs sing.

All of those activities were lovely and gave me the mindless escape that I was just now learning at nearly 38 years old. However, because my inner voice is particularly critical when I don’t feel productive, I also needed to find self-care activities that served a purpose beyond my immediate sense of self and was geared more towards my goal-oriented and complex self. Acknowledging that my many roles all contribute to my fulfillment and well-being, I chose to extend myself only where I felt at ease to do so.

So, to not completely neglect my goal of professional writing, I published and submitted some of my poems to writing contests. To continue feeling fulfilled as a mother, I brought the kids hiking and invited them to paint with me- but instead of making it all about them and keeping a fast pace, I kept painting after they had stopped because I was enjoying it. I had them pause and listen to the sounds of nature too. I’d park myself on a cool rock while they played happily in the river, with no schedule, no rush to get back home. And I also did a lot of cooking. Not only did cooking provide me a preoccupation, but it also filled my need to nurture-as I was feeding my family and also cut down on the cost of buying out. Not to mention, it was healthier too!

And healthy matters when it comes to self-care. During this time, I cut back drastically on alcohol-going dry for several months and then restarting with limits that I imposed on myself. I increased my water intake. And I re-focused on my diet-not to cut calories, but to ensure that the foods I was consuming were feeding my body’s needs. It’s hard to eat your best when you work 60 hour weeks, so I took advantage of the decrease in work hours to make better food choices, for both myself and my family.

Lastly, and probably most importantly, I added sleep. After 15 years of nightshift, chronic sleep deprivation was something I had become accustomed too. I sacrificed sleep every day to be present- as the mom, wife, friend, family member and person that I wanted to be. “Fear of missing out” is a real struggle for people who work opposite hours of the rest of the world. But it is well documented that that lack of sleep is not only associated with errors and accidents, but also with depression, anxiety, irritability, low productivity, decreased creativity and poor coping skills. So I started making sleep a priority- 8 hours on my nights off and consistent naps during the day. (Post-work day sleeping was harder to control, but I did my best to maximize it).

What I came to realize after all of this self-care was that for the years I put-off taking care of myself, not only did I suffer, but I was less pleasant to be around. So the super-mom, super-wife, super-nurse I was trying to be, was less focused and more irritable without self-care. Where I once feared that self-care would make me inadequate, it actually made me better.

But on an even grander scale, self-care taught me how to listen to myself. After months of going through the motions of putting myself to bed earlier, eating healthier and meditating… I became more in-tune with my body and my needs. I learned how to feel on a deeper level and how to differentiate those new feelings, and then, how to act appropriately.

I learned that there was a difference between feeling tired and feeling unmotivated. When I felt tired, it meant my body needed rest and whenever possible, I tried to fit in a nap or get myself into bed sooner. When I felt unmotivated however, I kicked myself in the butt to keep going, all the while listening to my inner-self and acknowledging what barrier was present that was causing me to feel unmotivated.

I learned the difference in eating/drinking for blind comfort and necessity, and eating/drinking for nourishment and enjoyment. It is easy to fall into the trap of over-eating, poor eating or alcohol abuse when we are stressed or grieving. But when we shift our focus to nourishment and listen to what our bodies are asking for, we feed it what it needs. Your craving for citrus, likely means you need some vit. C, salads-vitamins, minerals and fiber and craving red meat, some iron. Don’t get me wrong, while I truly believe in the power of good food, I still love me a sloppy steak and cheese, a crisp gin and tonic and a glass of Chardonnay. And I found this new peanut butter and jelly cereal that is my new guilty pleasure and I allow myself a cup when I’m craving it. Self-care is honoring ourselves, not abstaining from everything. Moderation is key. And making the effort to appreciate the food we are eating and taking note of how it tastes and makes us feel, allows that food to not only feed our bodies, but to feed our souls.

I learned to notice when I felt stressed or anxious, and to stop in that moment and breathe or briefly meditate rather than to ignore my feelings and allow those negative emotions to wreack havoc on my body. Consistently feeling negative emotions and carrying high levels of stress are well documented to not only put one at high risk for depression and anxiety, but can also have very negative physical consequences, such as high blood pressure, GI disorders, heart disease and a multitude of other serious health problems. Not to mention, bottling them up and allowing those feelings to build, often leads to a mental break-down and going into complete shut-down mode. And that is no good!

Equally, I also learned to notice when I felt happy or peaceful. I learned to appreciate that feeling and revel in it, taking notice of the goodness that it carried. I learned to listen to my emotions and to honor them instead of simply reacting to them. “Mindfulness”, some would call this.

I found myself on this journey due to necessity and out of complete self-preservation. However, I regret that I hadn’t learn to listen earlier. I am sorry that it took a crisis to make me realize that coping without any reserves is nearly impossible when tragedy strikes. And I encourage anyone else who is running on fumes, to heed this advice as well.

We never know what awful secrets life has waiting around the corner. Make “You” a priority right now!

With a meditation track and a hot bath instead of a quick shower, I am still a bad-ass, strong and resilient woman. With two part-time jobs now instead of four, I am and always have been, enough. And my kids are still well-rounded without their half-dozen extra-curriculars. Self-care doesn’t make us princesses, it makes us smart. It makes us more functional, more effective and more pleasant to be around. I hope to one day add back in some of the work hours, interests and activities that I had to cut-out in the past, because many of them brought me a good deal of fulfillment (not to mention, more cash to play with, lol).

But for now, I’m still learning to listen… because if I can’t hear me, I can’t hear others. And if I’m not willing to listen to myself, how in the hell can I expect anyone else to hear me.

This world…I,  was not born to live in silence. And life is a gift to be cherished and cared for, not casually spent. Take time to listen…and cherish yourself right now.

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Snorkeling the Waters of Life: A tale of life with anxiety

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We were so excited! Our road-tripping adventures that year had landed us in the Florida Keys and we were ready to take full advantage of the stunning waters that surround the tiny chain of islands. We had never explored tropical waters before and were giddy to get out there and have a new experience. Having done my research on the best spots to snorkel, I booked us a boat ride and snorkeling trip from Marathon Key to the beautiful Sombrero Reef. A 30 minute boat-ride would arrive us to the reef and we’d spend an hour or so in the water, snorkeling some of the most breathtaking waters on the planet.

Having only played around with a snorkel and mask a few times before, it was recommended to us that we spend some time practicing off-shore before our paid excursion. So the day before, we headed out to Bahia Honda State Park, gear in-hand. I expected that I’d be a natural. I’m a strong swimmer and with so many beautiful things to see, how could I have any trouble keeping my face in the water and breathing through a tube?

We waded out into the crystal-clear waters until we began to see coral and vegetation and little colorful fish. I secured my mask, placed the snorkel in my mouth, submerged my face in the water and went afloat. The life I saw swimming around me was amazing! Never before had I witnessed such a clear view of sea life just feet from my body. I wanted to stare at it all day.

And then, about 60 seconds later … I began to panic. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and I started hyperventilating. My initial awe of the sea life around me crashed and I couldn’t see the fish anymore. I was so consumed with my angst of breathing that the rest of the world blurred out of focus.

I shot-up out of the water. The peaceful sea and near-by snorkelers were still there, just the same. “What is my problem?!” I thought. Again, I tried. Again, I began to panic. “Why is this so hard for me!?” “Slow your breathing down”, I told myself. I made it a few minutes longer and then again, I was pulling my head out of the water and the tube from my mouth because I felt like I was suffocating.

I wasn’t the only one … the other adults in our party too found it harder than expected to regulate their breathing. But I was disappointed nonetheless that what appeared to be so simple was a struggle for me. Nevertheless, I was determined to master this skill before our expedition the next day. We had all day at the beach …. and I was going to figure this out!

I used the skills I’d learned as a nurse to assist my patients through labor as well as the tips I had received from other snorkelers and I continued to try. Still unable to focus on the fish, I put all of my focus into taking slow, deep breaths. I spoke to my inner-self, “You’re ok. Nothing is wrong.” I reminded myself to relax. Becoming more aware of my body, I realized how tense I had become and it took a conscious effort to relax each set of muscles, one at a time. It’s much harder to breathe and float when your muscles are tense. Each time I put my face in the water, I lasted a little longer before I felt the urge to lift up and pull my snorkel out. And each time, I tried again.

Then I started to find a rhythm. I breathed ….. in …… and …… out ….. in ….. a ….. slow …. and …… purposeful …… pattern ….. and my body began to relax. Slowly, I began to see more of the ocean bottom and felt less consumed with my breathing. My focus shifted from what I was doing and how I was feeling to what I was seeing. And by the end of the day, submerging my face in water while breathing through a plastic tube became second nature. And then, I didn’t want to leave. In fact, I was so in love with witnessing the goings-on of the ocean floor that I didn’t even hear my then 11-year-old screaming above the surface that there was a six-foot shark approaching, mere feet behind me! LOL, Oh well, that’s Florida for ya! The shark swam-off like they usually do (humans aren’t that tasty) and I continued with my explorations. The disappointment that had darkened my day shifted away and the initial excitement I felt, returned. It ended up a good day after-all.

The next day, we embarked on our excursion to Sombrero Reef … and we were blown away! The sea life that had impressed me the day before was nothing in comparison to this. Sombrero Reef was bursting with life. The moment we entered the water we were immediately surrounded by schools of colorful fish. There were purple and yellow brain and fan corals, giant parrot fish and angel fish, striped fish and spotted fish, more varieties than I could possibly know the names of. It felt like I was in a live-action version of ‘The Little Mermaid’ … minus the mermaids. Nurse sharks lurked on the seafloor and even a barracuda was minding his business in the shadows. Every second was breathtaking. It felt like I’d somehow jumped into the page of a National Geographic photo and I didn’t want to look away for even a second.

My family and I were changed that day. We are adventure takers and we are always looking for new and varied experiences. To this date … while many moments have come close, none have topped that day.

As we boarded the boat to return to shore, we couldn’t contain our excitement. And for the rest of the night, none of us could stop talking about the wonders we had witnessed first-hand in those Florida Key waters. I was so thankful that we had taken the opportunity to explore them. A 30 minute boat ride from the shore and $30/person proved to be worth every penny … and more. But I was even more thankful that I had gotten the advise and taken the opportunity to practice the day before. That trip would’ve been wasted had I not.

I have an adventurous spirit, I am a skilled swimmer and I have never before considered myself to be an anxious or fearful person. Experiencing what I did that first day of snorkeling was sobering; but it happened. I wasn’t thrashing around or acting a fool, but I was panicking. What I thought would be easy and second-nature, required purposeful intent and repetition in order to master it. But I persevered and I worked through my episode of unexpected anxiety; and when I did, I gained confidence and discovered a new favorite thing to do.

This past month, my family and I had another opportunity for a snorkeling adventure when we swam with the manatees in Crystal River. The setting was completely different as it was barely dawn and the water there, whilst clear, is fresh and cold and full of vegetation (perfect for manatees). It had been two years since we snorkeled the Keys and while we had peered at a few fish here and there on various beaches after that, we hadn’t done any prolonged snorkeling since that trip. This was a 3 hour adventure that started before the sun even rose. Unlike fish, manatee are harder to find, more easily spooked and are protected as an endangered/threatened wildlife species. This trip required that we remain calm and still in the water. We were instructed to float and not swim, to use slow subtle movements and to whisper so as not to disturb or frighten the manatees.

I sunk into the water, floated onto my belly, placed my snorkel and submersed my face in the cold, dark water around me. And as I took my first few breaths, that feeling of panic began to creep in again … but this time, I knew just what to do. Like labor breathing or riding a bicycle, my body remembered how to cope and my mind allowed it. Within a minute or two … I clicked right over to that purposeful, rhythmic breathing that I had mastered in the Keys … and I was at peace, floating with the manatees.

Another life-changer for the books!

 

Life is an open sea full of wonder. There is so much to do and witness and be a part of. Seeking out those adventures, searching for new opportunity and making the effort to follow-through and try something new is sure to yield more rewards than you can ever imagine. ‘In the end we’ll only regret the chances we didn’t take’ and the times we quit too soon. And yet nothing will stop you from taking a chance or encouraging you to quit faster than fear and anxiety. It is the biggest bully and the darkest demon.

The older I get, the worse it is. It’s genetic. Anxiety has paralyzed the people I love from socializing, making new moves and trying new things for decades. Whether it was a fear of failure or a lack of self-confidence or simply being overwhelmed by life itself, they have missed-out on so much because they didn’t try. Surrounded by that in my youth, I looked to others who took chances with admiration and I modeled myself after them. As I grew, I prided myself in being one to take on new challenges and new experiences, even when the anxieties of others discouraged me. And I have grown to be an accomplished and confident woman with few regrets because I broke away from that pattern. I am frequently complimented on my ability to remain calm, be it at work as a nurse or at home as a mother. I am good at remaining collected in stressful circumstances and I work well under pressure.

But the truth is … what no one knows … is that be it genetics or hormones or a learned behavior … sometimes … no matter how calm, cool and collected I am on the outside … on the inside, I am fucking terrified. And instead of pushing forward, sometimes all I want to do is run away. It’s weird how I can resuscitate a neonate who isn’t breathing without hesitation … and yet a phone-call can sometimes be paralyzing.

I know I can’t let fear and anxiety win. I have worked so hard to break away from that pattern and I have been rewarded so many times for doing so, that I know I have to continue to fight. I can’t allow my inexperience or my disadvantage or my genetic make-up to exclude me from anything that I have been given the opportunity to do. I must always try. And once I have tried, I must continue to keep trying. Life is too short not to.

 

Anxiety is the most common mental disorder in the United States … by a landslide. Studies show that anxiety affects 1:5 adults in the U.S. While it was once thought to be a disorder that largely plagued young people and children, recent studies now have mental health professionals altering their views. Many people are reporting an onset of anxiety later in life, though the type of anxiety experienced does tend to vary with age. According to this article posted in NCBI [https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3263387/], “Phobias (particularly social and specific phobias) may predominate in childhood; panic disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) may be at their highest prevalence in adulthood; while worry disorders (ie, Generalized Anxiety Disorder) may be most common in old age.”

So, I guess I’m not alone.

If you haven’t yet experienced an episode of anxiety, odds are, one day you will. And regardless of whether or not you ever experience it yourself, it’s important that everyone understand it so that they can be a help to those who struggle with it. For too long society has shamed or dismissed it and even excused it. None of those actions are acceptable.

If you had been with me that day in the Keys, what would you have said to me? Would you have shamed me by saying – “What the hell is your problem?” or “Yikes … you need help.”? Would you have dismissed it by saying – “You’re fine! Just don’t think about it. Just do it. It’s not that hard.”? Would you have excused it by saying, “It’s ok, you tried … it’s just not for everybody. Don’t feel bad … let’s just get out and go sit on the beach.”? If you had … you might have robbed me of one of my now favorite activities and a life changing experience at the reef.

We have to do better than that!

The same way I was unable to take-in the wonders that laid beneath me amongst some of the most beautiful waters in the world because I felt like I couldn’t breathe – people with anxiety can’t take-in life because they feel like they can’t breathe … or move … or think … or control it. And like me, it usually rears its ugly head at an unexpected time and they hate that it is happening. Shaming them, dismissing them or excusing them are all equally unhelpful. Instead they need someone to coach them. They need someone to teach them how to relax and breathe slowly and deeply. They need someone to tell them that they are “Ok” and that they “can do this”. They need calm, positive energy not aggressive or negative words and actions. They need help. And while medication is definitely a necessary tool for some people, often times cognitive-behavioral therapy (like education, problem solving skills, relaxation techniques, and sleep hygiene) works wonders!

Trying new things is scary … it can be terrifying actually. But with purposeful intent and practice you can master it. And when you do, the treasures that you will discover will more than compensate you.

If you struggle with anxiety, don’t stop trying because you’re scared. Hold someone’s hand and jump in … and when you do, make sure it’s someone who will teach you how to breathe …. and then, open your eyes to the wonders around you. Life is breathtaking when you are focused on the right things and you have the coping skills to enjoy them!