I used to think anxiety was the same as worry, and it can be – it’s rooted in fear, but it also feels very close to panic. I’m not worried about the future, I’m suffocating in this very moment. Which can lead to worrying about tomorrow and how I’m likely going to suffocate then as well.

I almost believe depression and anxiety are not separate things but a two-headed monster; demons that play off each other seamlessly in a synchronized dance seemingly impossible to interrupt.

(For a truly perfect recipe, couple that monster with a childhood of poor philosophies, suppressed emotion, and religious legalism.)

Anxiety is to-do lists and don’t-forget-about-thats and a million thoughts running through your mind unstoppable. The acute feeling of clutter closing in, closets and drawers that need organized. Irritable and overstimulated. Chaos in your veins. Fingernails digging into your arm. Knowing you’re driving your family crazy. Driving yourself crazy. It’s the weight of raising tiny people and knowing everything you do will affect them for the rest of their life, you know because you’re reliving everything from your own childhood.

I don’t know where anxiety ends and depression begins. All I know is that I can take “breaks” like the well-meaning friends and professionals advise. I can have coffee with a friend or even get a night away or do something for myself but it doesn’t matter. The drowning feeling is still there.

My kids can smile at me and say “I love you, mommy” and while I love those moments and work hard to treasure them, it doesn’t overpower the overwhelm. It doesn’t counter the hours I’ve spent paralyzed and in tears. The hopelessness and guilt and inability to catch up with life takes over quickly. I can’t wait to go to sleep. I spend every waking moment fighting or planning so I can prepare myself to fight.

Before you say “That’s all just being an adult. That’s how it is for moms.” Please stop. This isn’t how it should be; how it has to be.

I don’t want to live this way. I can’t live this way. If I’m not careful – I don’t want to live. I want to quit. 

 

-From awhile back