anxiety writer.

Apparently there are waves of my life when I experience a skyrocketing level of anxiety. This must be normal, because I believe I'm mostly like other people.

The first time happened almost 10 years ago. Family stuff. Discontent in my relationship. Unable to speak for myself and my needs. So I dealt with the anxiety by shedding skin. I strengthened some bonds and broke away from others. I thought that was the solution. It was, in a way.

Fast forward to last year, my first panic attack in years. Years! Caught me by surprise, maybe, but things (ignored stresses) were leading there. I was washing a dish when deja vu hit me, and I thought, "That's funny, what if we were controlled by some larger being and I was trapped in this moment for HOURS."

And then I freaked out: What kind of crazy thought was that? And I spun out.

Anyone who's had a panic attack knows that a "freakout" doesn't look at all like it sounds. It's a quiet scramble, a moment of spinning "what ifs" and "oh gods" kept intact by a "what if they are fucking looking at me" -- even if "they" are your husband and your cat who still love you no matter how you lose your shit.

And that led to a series of moments of trying to keep it together, avoid the panic, oh shit, just avoid it, so uncomfortable, what the, help me, oh god, am I going crazy, am I dying, etc etc.

Things had been stressful for a while -- work, money, typical big future questions looming. Ever since my dad passed away in 2013, I'd become slightly obsessed and fearful of the dying process and of death itself. Maybe that's severe. Or, is a "slight obsession" even possible? And I wasn't taking care of myself, perhaps. No -- that's not it. I think I understand what was happening, even as I'm still in the process of figuring it out. Still facing each day with a feeling of "what if."

(Funny -- you never hear of the success stories when they are mid-failure. Or even mid-rise to success! You hear about it after the fact, because until then, you could be a failing fool. But it's so important to hear the stories of failure and attempts, falls and pick-me-ups. That's the shit that makes you understand that things can be really difficult sometimes, but that you go on anyway. You go on anyway.)

I think what's happening for me right now -- which is actually quite cool and exciting -- is a new level of self-acceptance and self-love. Cheesy, maybe, but when you're constantly accompanied by your own inner critic and start to become aware of another voice that says "Hey, you know what? Imperfection is totally okay and welcome here. Makes things more interesting. Makes things unique, nuanced, even charming. And the critical thoughts and overwhelming fears? Well, I love you, too. You can come to me, and I won't push you away. I'll surround you with love, and I'll transform you into wisdom, experience, humor. Fear, you want to be so useful? Come here. You can be useful here."

So. I may be in the middle of a months-long anxiety episode, but I'm learning. It's not easy, but it's worth it. The experience of life, when viewed from a perspective of love, is so much more enjoyable and luxurious than when viewed from fear. I am so grateful for the moments that I live in love.