Thoughts That Demand Attention
This blog post isn't as fluid and seamless as some of my others because I have been piecing it together over multiple months. However, it accurately reflects how challenging it has been for me to focus on one topic or idea with anxiety always nagging for my attention. Throughout this reflection, I connect my thoughts with my personal intention that I have used recently during yoga.
Content warning: Discussion of depression, anxiety, anxiety attacks, mental health
Life is not all rainbows and sunshine. Not all wounds are visible. But the storm will clear, the waves will lessen, and wounds will heal, and you will be okay. Just breathe.
Imagine yourself standing on a white, sandy, tropical beach. The sand is warm beneath you. The sky is crystal blue and is void of any clouds. The only noises you hear are the rustling of the leaves and the rolling of the ocean. The water is lapping at your toes, where you're standing at the water's edge. The water is nudging at you, trying to gain your attention, tickling at your thoughts. You move your positions further up the beach, but the tide continues to come in. So slowly and gradually that you don't even notice it. Rolling and churning its way towards you, relentless and powerful. You look out to sea and realize you miss judged the size of the incoming wave. Suddenly you're slammed by a wall of force and strength that knocks you over and takes the air out of your lunges. Kicking vigorously, working against the pull of the sea, you surface for air. You are able to take in half a breath before the water crashes over you again. You get stuck in this cycle. Almost becoming immune to the ever-present pounding on your body and mind. The shallow breaths become how you breathe. Kicking vigorously, gasping for air, and fighting like hell against the churning of the ocean.
This is an analogy for how I have felt since about February of 2019.
Life is not all rainbows and sunshine. Not all wounds are visible. But the storm will clear, the waves will lessen, and wounds will heal, and you will be okay. Just breathe.
I am grateful for all that I have in my life. I know that I am beyond lucky to have all that I do. Never for a moment do I take my life for granted. Sometimes it's because I know how blessed I am that I feel worse for having the emotions I do. As if my feelings of sadness, lack of motivation, constant strain, and stress somehow cancel out the immense gratitude I have for life. I know this isn't the case. I know that someone can struggle with depression and anxiety and still be appreciative and thankful for their life. Just like the ocean, there is a constant pull and push of living with mental health issues.
Mental health demands to be acknowledged. At first, it will nudge at you, tickle at your thoughts. Upon being ignored, it will take gaining your attention very seriously by surging over you in waves. Demanding to be felt, seen, and heard just like the waves of the sea.
I have felt this way throughout my life, but the emotions have been more pressing over the past year. Rolling tides of inadequacy, inability, worry, guilt, and sadness.
Life is not all rainbows and sunshine. Not all wounds are visible. But the storm will clear, the waves will lessen, and wounds will heal, and you will be okay. Just breathe.
I remember having a conversation with my best friend, Jade. Explaining to her that the person she met during our freshman year of undergrad was a completely different person than who I am today, in some ways for the better and others for the worse. Even though I battled an eating disorder and struggles with my body image as a runner during my undergraduate career, I was relatively confident in my intellect. I strived to excel in the classroom and was incredibly motivated to exceed the expectations I set for myself in academia. Four years later, while in graduate school, and I could not feel more different. The subtle rolling waves of mental health challenges present throughout undergrad had grown to an overwhelming crashing while in graduate school. No longer was I motivated to excel in the class. I barely had the motivation to get off the couch, much less apply myself to a course. Not only that, but my first semester of graduate school was so incredibly lonely, which only heightened my sense of isolation and depression. The spring of 2019 was a very dark time for me.
I say this in the past tense, but I am still very much struggling with the same sense of loneliness and depression. But recently, with the added intensity coming from the anxiety I feel. Of course, this could be for a multitude of reasons, from moving to struggling to find employment, to re-planning our wedding, to the loneliness I have felt disconnected from my friends, and all the changes COVID-19 has brought into our lives. I know that I have it far better than other people, and I am incredibly grateful for that. My motivation and drive are slowly creeping back into my life just as the tide creeps up the beach, but there are still days when getting off the couch is exhausting, or I only get two hours of sleep because my mind is racing. On these days, I have to remind myself (and I would suggest you remind yourself as well), just because you're not where you want to be yet, doesn't mean you shouldn't celebrate how far you have come. I may not be the person I hope I am a year from now, and I may not be as mentally or physically healthy as I want to be a year from now, but I am so damn proud of how far I have come. Take a minute to acknowledge your progress, celebrate your wins, no matter how small, because just the act of getting out of bed or off the couch is a significant milestone that deserves celebration.
Life is not all rainbows and sunshine. Not all wounds are visible. But the storm will clear, the waves will lessen, and wounds will heal, and you will be okay. Just breathe.
I have always been significantly impacted by caffeine. My heart races, my hands shake, and I'm incredibly jittery. Now even without caffeine, these are very "normal" feelings for me. Rolls of anxiety always threatening to interrupt my day. It's uncomfortable and exhausting, continuously feeling like I'm on edge, jumpy, needing to take flight. There is an ever-present pounding of my insecurities and worries playing on a loop in my mind.
Exercise helps significantly, which is why I'm so blessed to be able to do my favorite workouts from home through the Alchemy Anywhere platform. Exercise has such a positive impact when the motivation for doing it is self-care, not punishment. Additionally, since I spend at least two hours commuting on any given day, I have started using this time to do breathing exercises that I learned through my yoga teacher training. Despite the steps I am trying to take to lessen the pounding waves of anxiety, the tides roll in. Healing takes time and patience.
Life is not all rainbows and sunshine. Not all wounds are visible. But the storm will clear, the waves will lessen, and wounds will heal, and you will be okay. Just breathe.
Towards the end of July, my family and I went scuba diving in one of the old mine caves in Brainard, searching for the "Stairway to Hell". I enjoy scuba diving. It's fascinating and thrilling. However, I have had a few challenging dives which have left me a little warry of diving under the water's surface.
Right at the start of the dive, I knew something was off. My goggles weren't clearing despite my countless attempts to remove them, so I could hardly see. I was immediately anxious, but I continued onward, trying to control and measure my breathing to slow my pounding heart. Whenever we dive, I am like a Remoras on a Whale, always sticking close to our dive instructor's side, who we lovingly call Coach and is my dive buddy. As we slowly descended, I could feel my anxiety building because I still couldn't see, and now there was the added element of bone-chilling darkness. Suddenly, my ability to see was utterly gone. I pulled on Coach's arm, trying to signal that I'm not doing well. At this point, I can honestly say, having a panic attack on land, with open-air, isn't an enjoyable experience, but underwater, at 50 feet, is utterly terrifying. My panic attack was only intensified by my ability to see the bubbles coming from my regulator (mouthpiece), which were ongoing since my breathing was so rapid and shallow. The only noise I could hear was the gurging of the bubbles, which seemed thunderously overpowering. My vision was even worse than when I had begun because I was crying (honestly, I didn't even know this was possible underwater). Being the incredible dive instructor he is, Coach gently grabbed my arm and slowly started guiding me back the way we had come. Another aspect of scuba diving is you cannot do anything quickly, so the swim back felt like an eternity. Despite the agonizingly slow swim back to our starting point, it allowed me to slow my breathing again and calm myself. By the time we resurfaced, even though I still had tears brimming in my eyes, I had managed to find a regular rhythm to my breathing again. An hour later, we dove a second time. The dive was shallower than our first time, more enjoyable, and didn't involve any anxiety attacks.
I share this story not to terrorize you about scuba diving. On the contrary, I highly suggest it. I share it because it best illustrates what dealing with anxiety feels like above the water. Millions of variables are out of our control; managing how we react to all the variables is what's important. And sometimes, we don't react well. And that's fine. We learn from that. And hopefully, you have "dive buddies" in your life who gently grab you and guide you back on track and support you throughout the times of challenge. And just like me diving again after my underwater panic attack, we must continually attempt to try things again. And it may not go well, but just keep trying. No matter what pace you're going at, keep swimming forward.
Life is not all rainbows and sunshine. Not all wounds are visible. But the storm will clear, the waves will lessen, and wounds will heal, and you will be okay. Just breathe.
There is a quote from Jon Kabat-Zinn, an American professor, and creator of the Stress Reduction Clinic, which states, "You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf". This quote connects all the ideas of this blog post together. Your feelings are entirely valid. Acknowledge them, but don't let them crash over you. Life is challenging and filled with waves; rather than trying to break the waves, learn to surf over then, instead of drowning in their monstrosity. Learning to surf can take multiple forms, whether that's reaching out to a friend or loved one and asking them for help, going to a counselor, journaling regularly, practicing medication, exercising, and building routine into your life. Just like scuba diving, never surf alone. Always have a buddy with you, especially through the more challenging aspects of life. You are not a burden. You are deserving of love. Ask for help. Whatever it is for you, find the best way to surf through the ever-present waves of life.
You can do this.
With love,
Rachel Elizabeth
If you are struggling with your mental health, please don't struggle alone. I have attached resources for you to reach out to trained individuals to provide emotional support. And also know that I am always here for you.
Resources:
Link for deep breathing exercises offered by the NIH Clinical Center: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3g-evIsaFw
National Suicuide Htoline: 800-273-8255
Suicide Prevention Lifeline: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
Text HOME to 741741 to connect with a Crisis Counselor
Do you know someone struggling with anxiety? Here’s an amazing resource to use when you want to support them but don’t exactly know the words to say. https://www.self.com/story/what-to-say-friend-with-anxiety
