TW: Severe anxiety, depression, panic disorder, panic attacks.
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I just have so much to tell you, and I don’t know where to start, but it’s Good.
Things are Good.
And so …
Do I begin with how in one week, everything changed, including my toothbrush?
Do I go back further, to the last time my life changed entirely, when I became a mother 20 years ago?
I could start anywhere, really, so I think I’ll start with a magical place.
It’s a place that saved my life once, 30 years ago, and it’s a place where very, very recently, I’ve begun again.
It’s a school, but sometimes I wonder …
Take Tuesday, in the middle of my first class, when I had a brief moment of wondering if I was dreaming.
Perhaps I took a little tumble, I thought.
(It’s possible. I tumble sometimes.)
But perhaps this time when I tumbled, I bonked my head, and now, I am in a coma, asleep, looking very angelic, and definitely not drooling on my pillow like I do in real life.
I mean, we have names for dreams at night - “dreams” - and dreams during the day - “daydreams.”
And then the things we hope for we call dreams too, and so would it be so crazy if none of this was real at all?
That’s how it’s all felt.
And so I will tell you how I determined that this is all real, but I want to prepare you for it …
Breathe with me.
1, 2, 3.
My butt REALLY hurts from sitting in a very hard chair for a very long time while lesson planning.
And having a sore tush doesn’t tend to happen in the first two kinds of dreams I mentioned above.
And so I’m 99 percent sure it’s real, but it all happened so quickly, that I haven’t had a chance to tell many people, to tell you.
And it’s all so different, and I am so different.
I am the girl who couldn’t leave her house for a while.
I mean, my therapist asked me (via Zoom) to go touch the stop sign on the corner and I said no. I said, “I can’t right now. Maybe tomorrow.”
I am the girl who couldn’t drive a car without being gripped by panic - my body told me I was going to die, just trying to go to the library.
I am the girl who thought …
No. Believed.
I am the girl who believed for a brief time that my family would be better off without me; that the world would be better off without me.
I am that girl, and yet, I’m not now.
I was.
Now, I am a girl with an achy keister, and a brand new job and three pairs of work pants; a brand new life in many ways.
And I’m happy.
I’m just so happy.
(One of my students called what I’ve been feeling joy, and he is right.)
And yes, sometimes, after class, I get a little anxious still.
Anxiety hasn’t left, but he is starting to understand, I think, that I don’t need him to drive my Life Car all the time.
Let me explain:
My anxiety is a he.
A long time ago, I read something or saw something that said to think of your anxiety as a helper, trying to do the right thing, and suddenly, an exact fictional person popped into my head.
And ever since then, I’ve thought of my anxiety as Jim Rash’s character from Community, the Dean.
And I have grown to love my anxiety, and see him as a very, very worried man who is always trying to help me, but just gets way too worked up sometimes.
In my better moments, I think of the Dean trying to drive my Life Car to keep me safe, pushing and climbing over me, and I softly touch his shoulder to get his attention, and then I look him in the eye and say:
“Dean? Buddy? I need you to calm down a little, OK?”
And then, I gently tuck him into the backseat, like a child. I make sure he has a blankie and a snack and a juice box.
And I tell him “I love you, and thank you, but I’ve got this.”
And sometimes that works.
And then other times, I am realizing, I am too excited to be anxious.
Excitement can feel a lot like anxiety, but anxiety and I are such old pals, that I can pick up on the subtle differences.
And so this past week, I was too excited for anxiety, and so the Dean took a nice nap as I taught.
Yeah.
Taught.
At like, a school.
The one I mentioned above, actually, so I guess it’s good that we started there, because I was thinking about starting one day when I was in the shower, when it occurred to me that I had maybe effed up my dream.
See, for a long time, my dream has been to teach at that magic school I mentioned. (#IRLHogwarts)
Last year at this time, I applied there, but the timing was all wrong. I got the job, but I said no, and it had been bothering me for a full year.
The kind woman who would have been my boss took a chance on me, a work-from-home former homeschool mom who at the time only had one pair of work pants.
And so I emailed her.
And I said thank you.
And then I just checked the school’s website real quick. Like a bunny.
Back in the shower, I had realized - I could do that job!
What had I been thinking?!
Crap on a cracker.
But then I thought, wait. No.
I COULD do that job now.
But then?
Then would have been …
OK.
It might not have been that bad.
But I wasn’t ready then.
But holy macaroni.
I was ready now.
And so, as I looked at the job listings, I thought, the school year has started - there won’t be jobs, right?
But there was a job, and I read the description like 4-7 times, because it appeared I was qualified.
Like, I met the basic requirements, enough that it didn’t feel like I was applying to like, operate on eyeballs or be a home organizer guru or drive race cars or something.
(Scratch that last one. I could TOTALLY drive a race car. It’s just speeding and turning left. And I can totally do that. Now.)
I wish I could tell you what all changed, and how things came together.
I think that if you are reading this without the context of the last year or especially the last seven months that I’ve been writing here, it may seem like my anxiety and depression just stopped, like I just threw the Dean in a ditch on the way to Target one day.
But that’s not the case.
It’s all more complicated and far messier and way more beautiful. 🦋
But I can say that where I am now started with telling the truth, and then feeling my feelings, even the ones I thought for a long time were “bad,” and needed to get shoved down inside; hidden away, like they were wrong.
And there was a whole year of transition, and just recently, I began what I think of as a new phase - rediscovery.
Wholeheartedness plays a starring role in everything too.
(Also in there was The Summer of Swimming, which I think now may have been a kind of spiritual cleansing?)
The truth is (and remember, we have to tell the truth in order to heal), that I am rediscovering myself right now and in real time.
Just like back when I started writing here, I haven’t figured it all out, but I want to share anyway,
I want to write about it, and tell you more.
So I’ll be back as soon as I can.
And I’ll give you more details as soon as I can.
But for now, I am really good, and I hope you are too. 🩵🦋
See you soon, friend.
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Thank you for reading 🩵
Happy for you to be so happy!
First, congratulations on the new job!!
Second, corralling your anxiety by naming it Dean Pelton??? Wow!!!! You have given me a whole new way to process my own anxiety- I feel so empowered: thank the Dean for his concern and tuck him into the back seat with a juice box. 🤯
Community is one of my favorites , especially when I need a friend or a reminder to not take the world so seriously 🩷