A Glimpse into My Anxious Mind

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Let me start by saying that I tried so hard to be artistic by adding text to the above pic to represent thoughts attacking me, but after an hour, I gave up…unable to get it to work. That didn’t help matters. Just made me more anxious adding to my worries about the length and content of this blog entry. So no creative picture. Trying to shrug it off, but it won’t let me.

I’ve said before that anxiety is insidious and unrelenting and I hope this post shows you just how treacherous it is; no matter how hard I fight, it’s always there…blow after blow after blow. And it’s not just mental. Anxiety knows how to use your own body against you. I recently read Monkey Mind: A Memoir of Anxiety by Daniel Smith in which he describes his anxiety as an icicle that digs around inside his chest. My anxiety also goes after my chest (not so ironic since my gynecomastia was a source of a ton of anxiety), only it feels like extreme pressure…either like my chest is going to explode or I have a bunch of anvils lying on it. And once my anxiety becomes physical, my brain – my conscious, rational, fighting brain – feels powerless. I yell at myself. I scream to STOP! I tell myself to BREATHE. But once the chest goes, I’m like a weak, dehydrated Sisyphus desperately trying to push that boulder uphill knowing full well it’s going to roll right back down.

Some will argue that I’m not like Sisyphus at all in that the boulder isn’t doomed to roll off the hill…that instead I’m pushing a boulder that reaches certain plateaus along the way to the ultimate hilltop, and when the boulder rolls backwards, it’s just slight. I agree with you, but I have trouble seeing it and more so, FEELING it. That’s a big problem of mine. I don’t FEEL like I’m accomplishing little things. My therapist tells me to stop worrying about feelings and to instead concentrate on rational thought. I try to. I really do. But I’m fighting against both illogical thoughts AND feelings, and when the feelings take over, I’m in serious trouble.

This brings me to what happened a couple of days ago (I was about to apologize for the length of this blog, but then erased it – I heard my therapist yelling, “STOP APOLOGIZING!”). For more than a week I debated taking Sienna to a NY Dads Group meetup at Pier 6 of the Brooklyn Park which boasted “distinct play areas for sand, water, swings, etc.” and had a beautiful view of lower Manhattan. I had already decided that I couldn’t yet handle large meetups, and this one had only 9 dads going including 3 that I knew and liked. It was a trek, though, since I live in Queens on the border of Long Island, but the night before, I decided to go. Then I looked at the weather and saw it was going to rain. Figures. I finally decide to go and it’s going to rain. “Well, I thought, let’s see what it looks like in the morning.”

I awoke and checked the weather report which said that scattered thunderstorms would begin early in the afternoon. That gave us time to enjoy the park, so I fed Sienna, packed her up, made sure I had everything, and hit the road. About halfway there I realized I forgot my camera and I chastised myself. I was pissed. Seriously pissed. I’d made a mental note not to forget the camera and I did anyway. At least I still had my iPhone. The radio was on and (this is something I didn’t remember until later that night as Elaine held me tight trying to soothe me) Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days” began to play. I sang along – it’s one of my all-time favs. But then, all of a sudden, I almost burst into tears. I started thinking that I’m 39 and I never experienced glory days…that what I had to look back on was one big mess of depression and failure and being bullied and hiding a deformity. High school sucked. College sucked. Those were supposed to be my glory days. Elaine later pointed out that my 30s were and are my glory days. I fell in love. I got married. I had Sienna. I built familial relationships. I essentially came out of hiding. She’s right, of course, but I wasn’t thinking that way in the car. I did reach back and touched Sienna’s leg to reassure myself and I pushed those bad thoughts away. My anxiety was quivering, but not yet physical. Again, I’d forgotten all about the Springsteen song before remembering it later that night.

I couldn’t find anyone when I got to the park. I checked my phone and learned that 2 of the dads I knew couldn’t make the meetup. My anxiousness ratcheted up a bit. Finally, my friend, let’s call him Kanye (because he’s about as far away from Kanye as you can get), called out to me and I let out a huge sigh of relief. He was in the “Water Lab” with his daughter and seemingly a zillion other parents and kids packed into this tiny space complete with water spitting out of the ground and from overhead sprinklers. It looked really cool. It was, in fact, VERY cold. I changed Sienna into her swim diaper (I’d never put her in a swim diaper before and was very worried about what to do with it. Do I wash it? Do I throw it away?). Immediately, Sienna peed and it went right through the diaper and covered the stroller. I stood there near catatonic like Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, but only for a second because then my brain flooded with irrational thoughts as Sienna’s pee deluged the stroller. “What do I do? I don’t know how to clean this! Everyone’s watching me! I’m a fraud! They know I’m not fit to be a dad! How am I going to blog about this? The blog has to be perfect! It can’t be too long! I can’t write! I suck! I’m a failure as a dad! I’m a failure as a writer!” I broke out of my catatonia and took Sienna and the stroller to the bathroom to find soap and paper towels. No paper towels. This is when the pain began. I felt like my chest was simultaneously being crushed and would explode .

Now remember, my mind was already in a bad place. A week of debating. The decision. The trek. The weather. The song. Not being able to find anyone. Discovering 2 of the people I knew weren’t coming. Things were set up.

To be continued because I feel drained right now. Must write this…I’M PROUD OF MYSELF FOR WRITING THIS MUCH SO FAR EVEN IF I CAN’T COMPLETE IT!

 

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