We all feel it. Those times when we are unsettled. Perhaps a few things haven’t gone our way. Little things hold fast and refuse to let go. An equilibrium is unsettled and unwelcome thoughts keep rising despite being pushed down. It’s when we know we shouldn’t sweat the small stuff and yet the small stuff is dripping out of our pores. The word discombobulated comes to mind. That itchy, unpleasant discomfort. I’m not talking about the big issues here. I’m not talking about grief or loss. This isn’t a post about what to do when something shakes your life. This is about how to wrest control back from the pesky little thoughts that have no business taking up so much mind space. Read more
Last year I wrote a post about anxiety and how it affects me: When Anxiety Attacks. I wrote it because I know that I am not the first nor will I be the last person to suffer from anxiety. I am also a huge believer in problems shared are problems halved and talking away taboos is half the battle. So here I am, talking about it again.
The knife is slack in my hand. The vegetables I was cutting, forgotten. Terror grips my chest and I am struggling to breathe. I am paralysed.
The family dinner is now beyond my reach. I have stopped. My body has simply stopped. My mind is racing for reasons why.
This has happened once before. Years ago. Three weeks after my son died, I collapsed to my knees, unable to continue. Raw grief, emerging from shock, forcing me to floor. Demanding that I pay my dues. Telling me to pay attention to my grief. Read more