Living Life in the Anxious Lane

So, little known fact about me, pretty much every day I suffer from mild to moderate social anxiety. On good days I stumble through conversations thinking I sound like an idiot with each phrase. I feel convinced that people put up with me, they don't actually really like me. Occasionally I have a bad day. I dress in my most comfortable jumper, get Benji off to day care while avoiding all forms of communication, refuse to answer the phone and and spend the day doing all I can to fight off full fledged panic attacks. Granted, these bad days don't happen often any more. Maybe once every six months or so. Most days I struggle, but I cope.

Sometimes it comes out of the blue. I can be just sitting there and I feel anxiety well up in my chest. Why? I ask that myself. I'm not doing anything wrong, I'm not in a stressful situation... but my chest tightens, my pulse rate spikes and and everything becomes concentrated on this feeling of panic that I have to push down so I can keep functioning. So I can keep being a good, loving, Mother. Because if there's one thing in this world that's greater than the overwhelming feelings of a panic attack, it's the love I have for my son.

But as I said, those bad days don't happen too often anymore. Sometimes I even feel myself getting excited by life. I have goals and I enjoy working towards them. I have hobbies that I love to do.

But last night I received news that a dearly loved friend who was basically a family member, my "Aunty" Lyn had passed away. She was there through my teenage years. She brought my Mother and I into the Mormon Church. Though she later moved to a different city, we always kept in contact. She loved hearing the things I had going in my life. She came to my wedding, and her husband who I had always viewed as father figure, walked me down the aisle. He sadly passed away two weeks before Benji was born, but Benji's middle name was chosen in dedication to him. Lyn was able to meet Benji, just before his third birthday when Mum and I took a trip up North and we stayed a few days with her. He adored her, as most people always did.

Aunty Lyn was a wise but cheeky soul. She had a special laugh, almost a cackle that came out when she knew she'd said something particularly delicious. She had unconventional views, a stand out being that seagulls would gather and fly when the souls of the dead were gathered together. But strangely, hours before I found out about her passing I took Benji to the beach with some takeaway chips. He loves rolling down his window to the seagulls that land next to the car and laughing his head off when they fight over the chips he throws. But this time they wouldn't land. They flew in circles around the car, landing briefly on the roof at times, refusing any chips thrown their way. They just kept flying and now I can't help but wonder if Aunty Lyn was passing through to say good bye.

But it feels unreal. Perhaps I'm still in shock. I don't feel like I can grieve. I had some tears when I first found out, but haven't cried since, even though I've wanted to.

What I have felt is panic.

My old friend anxiety coming back to roost. It's almost 3am now, and my body still feels wide awake with adrenaline even though my eyes are drooping and my limbs are weak and trembling. I can't read books or watch tv because anything stressful spikes my heart rate. Even my old favorite, being a keyboard warrior on Facebook is a no go. I just can't.

I keep feeling myself getting wound tighter and tighter, and I have to stop myself, center and breathe through it. I have to stay normal on the outside so nobody worries. So my baby boy doesn't know there's something wrong with me. I'm not trying to hide it, he's just too young to understand. My cat keeps jumping up on my lap and even that makes me tense up.

It feels like a constant battle. Stress causes panic, but I stress out about panicking, so once I panic I get more stressed and the cycle continues. Thinking of asking for help causes more panic again. I fear the judgments. I'm afraid someone will think I'm unfit to adult anymore and try to take over. I feel like the way I feel isn't valid, that I'm over reacting and making a sad situation all about myself when it should be about the immediate family and closest friends.

And I spend so long trying to be strong that I don't want people to know that I'm really weak and shaking inside.