Anxiety Echo

The initial depression I was feeling when I wrote the entry "5 Things" has grown into an anxiety flare-up. Alex came out to us just before my birthday last year. That was really hard. So, I guess having my birthday and preparing for the new school year cued my body to remember the intense emotions and stress of last summer. That couple days of mild depression sharpened into tension/fear upon waking and then the unrelenting emotional "buzz" in my brain/body that "something is wrong, something is wrong, you don't know what it is but it's scary and real and coming any second." 

Thankfully, the buzz has remained largely in the background. It hasn't been too terribly difficult to make myself do the things I need to do. Cutting out gluten has helped with the nausea and the meds are clearly helping with mood regulation. When I think of something that would normally send a wave of panic throughout my body, there's nothing. I have a chance to back away from it. Such a relief.

I was thinking a couple weeks ago that the anxiety was so well controlled that I might want to try and cut back on the second medication my doctor prescribed last year. I'm glad I talked myself out of that. 

I feel like the anxiety echo has plateaued for now. Some days are better than others, of course, and it makes me sleepy, but it's okay for now. 

This last weekend, I got to fly to Houston as part of an 80th birthday surprise for my mom. More about this later. It was a GREAT trip. The anxiety was present, but manageable. I wasn't anxious about flying. At all. That's not how my anxiety works. My anxiety springs from the feelings that I am 1) personally responsible for others' happiness and 2) obliged to meet others' expectations of me. Traveling to Houston is easy peasy compared to that! My calming mantra goes something like this: 

"I am not responsible for making so-and-so have a good time."

"I don't have to sparkle. I am enough just the way I am."

"I don't need to cure/solve all hurt or injustice. Supporting someone through it is enough."

As I say these things to myself, I imagine the weight of those burdens lifting and floating away.

My physical calming routine includes a good, deep breath followed by a deliberate unclenching of all the muscles in my body. Especially my jaw and shoulders.

I have a specific list of self-care tasks that I force myself to do every morning (take morning meds, eat breakfast, use the bathroom, get dressed, wash my face, put in contacts, brush teeth, floss, read scriptures, and pray) and bedtime (put on pajamas, take evening meds, wash face, brush teeth, take out contacts, use the bathroom, and pray).

These mantras and routines help me 1) manage my anxiety on a daily basis and 2) feel human during an anxiety flare-up.

So, while I'm not exactly comfortable today, I am okay. Who knows how I would be feeling today without those measures in place?! 

5 Things

First off, I want you to know that I replaced our broken garbage disposer/disposal a couple weeks ago (so proud of myself) and there have been no leaks so far (thank the plumbing saints!). I still don't trust it, though. Time will tell all.

Second, James and Matthew have been at Wild Child Survival Camp this week. They both love the activities, even as they complain that it takes up their WHOLE day. They seem to have enjoyed whittling, fire building, and swimming the most. Robert has repeatedly told me this week how much he enjoys a quiet day at home without the noise and activity that his younger brothers bring. He even said, "I see now why you want to sign us up for all kinds of camps." He's not wrong. I do enjoy the quiet. I feel like it makes me a better, more patient parent for the times they are home. 

Third, this week marks the one year anniversary of Alex coming out. It's a bittersweet anniversary. Bitter because I am still dealing with the loss and grief of Alice. It's dormant most of the time, though, and hasn't interrupted my life for several months. I've heard from others that anniversaries of someone's death can be surprisingly hard. I think I'm feeling that now. I feel a little depressed, less energy, less interest in things that used to make me happy. It's harder to go to bed on time and harder to get out of bed. I eat fewer vegetables. I don't want to exercise or be around people. I feel like it's a strain just going through the motions.

This anniversary is sweet, too. I love Alex. He has grown a lot this year. We all have. And I'm so happy to be where we are! A year ago, I had no idea what the future would bring, but I had hope that we would be okay again. We're okay! We're actually okay and that's such a blessing and relief. Alex's gender and sexual identity have kinda moved into the background. I don't think about it every day. It just is. Our conversations center more on his social life, college applications, high school jobs, and learning to drive...regular teenage stuff! His relationships with his siblings are normal. He still wants to be a part of this family. Yes, he would love to move forward with medical transitioning, but he's okay waiting, too. Friends and family have asked me about Alex's transition and shared their perspectives. I've learned so much! I'm grateful for that. 

Fourth, I'm still processing the Evans Family Reunion we attended in July. I'm trying to figure out why it was so hard for me. I guess I needed more structure?? We got there and it was largely flexible free time. That's great with people you know pretty well (e.g. my own siblings, church friends, the Garners), but it's absolute torture for an introvert 1) surrounded by people she doesn't know super well and 2) feeling pressure to engage these folks regularly in meaningful ways. I didn't realize this at the time, though. I just felt awkward, uncomfortable pressure. I wanted to hide in my room for the first couple days. By the third day, though, I was accustomed to the laid back flexibility and started having fun. I found smaller groups throughout the day in which to share meaningful conversations. By the fourth day, cousins from different families were routinely playing together. My kids were playing with cousins! Such a great thing to see. 

I loved engaging the cousins through fishing and tie-dye...smaller groups, focused on a specific activity. Meal times and the evening meetings were great, too. I knew what to expect, what to do, and could interact with people in a normal and natural way. 

So, I guess when it's my turn to plan a family reunion of some sort, I'll do it the introverted way :) The first couple of days will have structured, scheduled activities that people can choose to attend or not (e.g. nature walk, boat rides, craft, meals, swim time, campfire, night games, outdoor olympics, evening devotional/activity). That will give the introverted folks a chance to 1) engage and interact more comfortably and 2) experience several different activities they can do on their own the rest of the time. I also found it difficult to engage the other adults while we were all wrangling our individual kids. This got better once the cousins played with each other more than their parents. If possible, I'd love for there to be an event or meal where adults can interact without their kids. Maybe the adults go out to dinner while older cousins babysit younger cousins (pizza and a movie!)? Maybe there's a girls' outing one day and a guys' outing another day? Smaller group activities are the best! I'll have to brainstorm how to get the cousins to interact with each other more early on...

And these things can happen at a lake house, on a cruise, or anywhere else we choose to gather. Yes. I can get behind that :)

Feelings processed. Plan in place. That feels better. 

Fifth, Robert may have his first regular job lined up. A neighbor asked him to mow their lawn for the rest of the season and possibly future seasons as well. He's pleased at the prospect of acquiring "fun money", but not too thrilled to have to work for it :) Welcome to adulting, bud.