Over the weekend, I read a book "Anxiety: The Missing Stage of Grief". It was a great read- and although I did wish I had read it sooner (it's been on my TBR list for a few years), it gave me some great insight into some of the anxiety I felt while I was grieving.
I've had anxiety my entire life. Some day, I'll write a blog post about some of my childhood memories with anxiety. But for now know this- having anxiety does not just mean getting nervous. No, living with anxiety means persistent and excessive worry. It's hard to control and can take over your entire life.
So even though I'm well versed in anxiety and all it entails, I really did not anticipate that it would spike after my dad passed away. I recall a few times I had a panic attack before the anxiety hit its highest point. Once, I was leaving a workout class and my phone had dozens of texts from my family members. I can't even remember what we were discussing. Either way, I was so overwhelmed with the texts that I began to sob in my car on the way home, and I could barely catch my breath. I pulled over into a parking lot, wanting desperately to call someone to ask for help, but I had no one to call. My husband was at work, and I didn't want to burden my family who had sent the texts, clearly everyone was a bit on edge. I ran quickly through my list of friends and thought I shouldn't bother any of them. So I sat in my car sobbing and trying to breathe on my own.
There was another time when my mom wasn't feeling well. She had a persistent cough that wouldn't go away. I got a text from one of her friends, encouraging me to please go with her to get it checked out because she knew someone who had a persistent cough it ended up being something with their heart, and they died. I was so flustered at the possibility that I could lose my mom after I had just lost my dad. I fell to the ground crying and could not catch my breath. My husband was home this time, thank God. It took a solid few minutes to get my breathing back to normal.
But the anxiety really got out of control until the summer of 2019- one and a half years after my dad passed away. The book mentions that something big life events can trigger this anxiety, and my husband and I had just bought and moved into our first home. I began to have some pretty severe stomach problems. My stomach was constantly churning. I felt sick 99% of the time. I went through several tests and eventually my doctors told me to stay away from gluten and dairy. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't think my anxiety at the time had something to do with these physical symptoms. I was so convinced that I had colon cancer. I began to have anxiety attacks anytime I felt a physical symptom. There was one time I was sitting at my kitchen table and thought my eyesight was going blurry, and then my arm was going numb and I picked up the phone to call 911 because I was convinced I was having a stroke.
Fact: Sometimes the physical symptoms of anxiety CAN indeed feel like a heart attack or stroke. That's just like...not fair. Can't anxiety make my skin turn purple or something so that I KNOW it's anxiety and not a heart attack?
Anyways, my anxiety was at an all time high that summer. Tom and I adopted Leo later in the summer and I worried over every little thing with him. If he wasn't eating I was convinced he was going to die. This began to take a toll on Tom and I's relationship. Being in a constant state of anxiety meant I wasn't really all in, AND I snapped a lot. After reading the book, I'm realizing that I was really scared to lose Leo and to grieve again- because grieving is HARD. So even though Leo was new to us, I just didn't want to lose someone again.
My anxiety became isolating. I was so anxious all of the time that I didn't want to do anything or be out anywhere incase an attack came. I spent most of my time at home, alone.
Oh, and during all of this I was going to therapy. But I wasn't being completely honest with her about how I was feeling. Until one day, she said "you seem to be managing really well". I actually started to laugh, and then that turned to tears. And that broke me open. From that day forward, I was much more honest with my therapist. We have an amazing relationship now. I also began on a new medication around this time, which helped significantly.
Had I read the book when I was going through all of this, I may have tied it all together. Instead, I thought something was wrong with me, that I was a weak person. I also felt very alone. Now I know that this kind of anxiety is actually quite common, no matter what your relationship is to the person who passed. It's just something we don't talk about a lot.
Which is precisely why I am talking about it in this blog. I don't believe in keeping these kinds of things in the dark. What's the point of that? No one should suffer alone and no one should feel alone. It is always a priority of mine to shine a light on topics that others shy away from. So now you know my story with anxiety as part of the grieving process. And maybe, you don't feel so alone.
So where I am I now? After a year and a 1/2 on the medication, and therapy every two weeks. I can honestly sit here and tell you I'm so much better than I was. Anxiety comes and goes, but I do not have severe attacks like I used to. Recently my mom was told she had stage 0 melanoma on her face. People around me have asked me how I'm feeling. It's not to say I wasn't worried, of course I was a little worried. But I did not panic. I was calm. I had rational thoughts like "okay, we'll get it taken out and she will be okay". That wouldn't have been my line of thinking a few years ago. So I am here to tell you, it does get better. But you don't have to do it on your own. And you shouldn't do it on your own. Get the help, find the tools to help you.
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