MyAnxiousMind

I feel like I’m just spinning my wheels.  When I get frustrated, I run to the web for support (which it never provides).  I was reading about techniques to cure anxiety and it seemed like everything I read say “5-6 sessions of CBT will cure you of your anxiety”.  Well I have been going for about a year now and I’m not healed.  What is wrong with me? This is when my mind starts to create all sorts of scary things that could be wrong with me.  “When will you just give up and admit you are dying?”

I feel like I’m wasting my time.  I feel like I’m wasting my doctor’s time.  I feel like I’m worthless.  I feel like I’m holding myself and my family back.

I forced myself to watch an episode of the medical drama House tonight.   Watching any shows about medical topics is pure torture for one who suffers with hypochondria.  Typically when I watch such a show I begin to come down with the symptoms of some rare disease highlighted on the episode.

Tonight I forced myself to sit there and watch.  The longer it went on, the more cold and clammy my hands became.  I wanted to shut it off and run but I didn’t.   They were working on a diagnosis for a patient, talking about all of these rare and fatal illnesses she could have.

At the end of the show, it was determined she didn’t have any of those rare and fatal illnesses after all.  I was proud of myself for watching to the end for had I left early, I would have been left with the thought in my mind that it is common place for these rare illnesses to pop up.

One step at a time, thats all I can do, and I’m OK with that.

I’ve spent the last 5 days on vacation away from home. I almost didn’t make it. On Thursday, I lay in my bed dreading having to leave my comfort zone for so long, I thought surly I would die. My wife said I could stay home, that if I was going to be miserable, its better I didn’t go but I knew that I needed to go, so go I did.

By the end of the vacation I was in a state of bliss. Anxiety? Of course but I wasn’t paralyzed with the non-stop fear that something terrible was wrong with me. I wasn’t as out going as I wanted to be but I enjoyed my time reading, hiking, and swimming with the kids.

I had plenty of time to think healthy thoughts and it struck me that the more I wish and hope for recovery, the farther away it gets. It’s like when I try to play a song on the piano perfectly, the harder I try, the worse I play. It is only when I become relaxed and just play without any thought of perfection, the music becomes perfect. Not seeking for perfection is perfection.

True recovery comes when you begin to see things as they are, to observe things as they are, and to let everything go as it goes.

So I’m frustrated, to put it in a nice way. This must be what Hell feels like.

Today my anxiety has peaked at around an 8 out of 10. I’m worried about an upcoming trip with my family, I’m worried about a party in a few weeks, I’m worried about the poor financial performance of the company I work for. All of these fears manifest themselves in a very physical way. My hands are ice cold. My neck and shoulders are extremely tense. My breathing is shallow. My balance is gone. My sleep is poor.

Fear breads more fear.

Anxiety creates more anxiety.

As is evident from my lack of posts on here, I had been starting to feel really great, now it feels like I’m heading for a low again and I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m sure part of it is because I have an appointment with the psychologist on Thursday. Every time I think about it, my brain reminds me its almost been a year since I started seeing him and I’m still not “healed”. My brain tells me this is because I don’t really have anxiety, I have something very sinister, I have something catastrophic. At this point, what could possibly be worse than anxiety?

As I write this it is 3:30 and I’ll I can do is watch the clock so that at 5 I can run home and crawl into the safety of my bed. For some reason, if I’m going to die, I would rather be in my own bed.

This may sound crazy but anxiety not only impacts the mind it also impacts the body — at least in my case and I’m guessing I’m not alone.

As I begin to gain mental control over this demon I’m finding that I’m not the same man I was before.  Although I have suffered with anxiety, the current debilitating bout has gone on 3 years this November.  Over those three years I have retreated and shut down.  I have stopped doing the things I enjoy.  I have become less physically active, one the lowest point being nearly bed bound.

I’m finding out that during that time I lost trust in my body to function on its on.  I think I need to concentrate on breathing, on walking, or chewing, etc.  Things that just happen automatically, things that people don’t put a second thought to, I’m concentrating on every moment to make sure my body doesn’t screw it up.

The problem with this approach is that the more you concentrate on a task the harder it becomes.  Take walking.   Rather than thinking about where you are walking to or thinking about what surrounds you, you put 100% concentration on picking up one foot and putting another foot down.  Walking all of a sudden becomes unnatural.

This I have been to be very frustrating and anxiety producing in its own but this too shall pass.  I must learn patience, if nothing more, to let things take their course.  The more I push, the worse I feel.