I recently had lunch with my partner at a beloved taco spot in the city, eagerly anticipating their queso. As I pulled into the packed parking garage, I was taken aback by the scarcity of available spaces. After retrieving our 8-month-old from the backseat, I made my way toward what I envisioned as a taco paradise (though it really should be named that!).
However, upon arriving, I was met with a crowd. My heart rate began to escalate as I located my partner in the queue. “So many people. I wasn’t ready for this,” I remarked, and he understood my unspoken anxiety. “Do you want to step outside for a moment?” he asked. “No,” I replied. “It’ll pass.” He recognized my meaning.
As I stood there, he held our daughter while I braced myself for the impending panic attack. My breath quickened, and my throat constricted as I scanned the area for potential exits—bathroom, back door, the parking garage. Yet, I remained, riding the wave of anxiety until it gradually subsided. By the time we received our food, I felt back to normal, and the queso was as delightful as I had hoped.
Understanding My Anxiety
I’ve grappled with anxiety since I was six, though I didn’t have a name for it back then. I vividly recall feeling overwhelmed in a bustling cafeteria, convinced I might both cry and vomit. As a teenager, I began to understand my experiences were rooted in anxiety. I delved into its science, believing I could logically outmaneuver it, a notion that proved to be misguided.
Recognizing the primal part of my brain reacting to perceived threats, I understood my choices were limited to fight or flight. More often than not, I chose to flee. In my adult life, I would retreat to my car in the parking garage, waiting until I felt stable enough to return to work. Pregnancy intensified my struggles; daily panic attacks became a reality, compounded by worries about how my anxiety would impact my unborn child. My doctor monitored my health closely, and I confided in my supportive boss about my physical symptoms, opting to work from home for some relief.
However, I hesitated to disclose my anxiety to my boss, fearing it would change her perception of my work ethic. Isn’t that a strange thought?
The Impact of Parenthood
After the birth of my first daughter, my anxiety subsided for a while, but as she grew, so did my worries. The unpredictability of parenting made it harder to escape when needed. I began avoiding outings, letting my partner engage in activities with our daughter while I stayed home, which only fueled my self-loathing.
Eventually, I sought help from a therapist named Mark, who has been instrumental in my journey. I truly believe everyone should have a Mark in their lives. Our sessions led us to explore Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), which, in essence, is about practicing anxiety management. We began by facing mildly uncomfortable situations and gradually escalated to more challenging environments.
One surprising revelation was my aversion to shopping at Target, a place that often triggered my anxiety. To confront this challenge, I started practicing in Lowes, a surprisingly comfortable environment for me, and slowly made my way to Target. While it’s still not my favorite spot, it no longer feels like a personal nightmare.
Embracing Discomfort
Through Mark and CBT, I learned that I have more options than just fight or flight. I could choose to embrace the discomfort. Surrendering to my feelings didn’t mean defeat, but rather allowing myself to experience anxiety while employing patience and resilience. After all, I’ve been navigating these challenges for most of my life. It might not feel pleasant, but I’ve come to understand that it will eventually pass.
There are still hard days when the demands of parenting feel overwhelming. The mental exhaustion of anxiety can be relentless, and sometimes it’s necessary to take a step back and simply rest. That’s okay.
Sharing My Journey
While I still experience anxiety, I’ve shifted my perspective on fear. I want my daughters to witness my struggles and understand that anxiety doesn’t need to be hidden or faced alone. I am still a devoted mother who loves them dearly, and I’m open to discussing my experiences if they have questions. I’ve become more active in their lives, willing to embrace experiences with them, even if it means facing my fears head-on. By choosing to confront my anxiety, I also find a sense of freedom.
Conclusion
In summary, my journey through anxiety and panic attacks has been complex, involving a blend of personal experiences, therapy, and a commitment to understanding my feelings. I’ve learned that it’s possible to coexist with anxiety while still engaging fully in life.
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