Drowning.

Truth is, I'm drowning.

I'm drowning in the love and the joy that comes with being a new mom. When I hold my daughter, I can't describe the warmth that I feel and the depth that it reaches within me. I love this gift and I cherish it deeply.

Truth is, I'm drowning.

I'm drowning in my own fear and anxiety that is eating away at me as I type this entry. I'm a natural worrier. I stumble through life one fear after the other, like a sponge soaking up every bad piece of news or information that I hear. I check locks twice, three times. I look behind the shower curtain several times a day. I constantly look out the window. If the roads are bad, I want to stay inside. If I'm alone, I constantly question sounds.

Last January, this reached it's peak. My subconscious had finally had enough. I was strung out on worry and it took a physical toll that I never expected. I started to feel chest pain, then a cold Bengay feeling swept through my entire body. I was insistent that I was having a heart attack, in fact I made my poor husband take me to the ER. Twice. Or was it three times? I don't remember now. My body hurt, I couldn't sleep, I didn't want to be alone. It was hell.. a hell that burned so badly that I grasped at everything I could to escape it. I called every nurse I knew, went to the doctor, set up an emergency counseling appointment and started medication.. all in just a few short days.

I'm not sure what saved me most that week. Friends, scripture, counseling.. medication. The panic attack lasted about a week and once I could finally breathe, I knew I never wanted to feel that way again. By the end of it, it was obvious I have an anxiety disorder and I continued counseling for some time. Looking back, it was easy to pin point.

I had developed unhealthy patterns. I couldn't shower home alone without turning off the water every once in a while to check for noise. When I blow dried my hair, same thing. Driving had become a chore that I had to take deep breaths through and slowly, I just chose to not go anywhere alone.

Once the week passed, I got better. I openly acknowledged my anxiety and continued medication and counseling until I got pregnant. My counselor helped me to develop better habits, acknowledge irrational thought patterns and fears. I put a progressive relaxation track on my iPhone for emergencies and night time.

For some reason, pregnancy did good for my anxiety.. helped put it in check, so to speak. It felt so good to be rid of those thoughts and fears for a while. I had almost tricked myself into believing that I may not ever have to deal with it again.

Tonight, I am here dealing with it again. The seed planted with something small and slowly over the last few weeks it's grown. I've tried to keep it to myself, praying that it would go away. I told myself not to acknowledge it.. until now when it is so obvious that there is nothing I can do but acknowledge it. Deep down, I knew I would have to face this again, but I wasn't sure when.

Truth is, I'm drowning and I'm scared.

I'm not depressed or self destructive. I'm just eaten alive by the what ifs and that could bes. Parenting has brought on a whole new dynamic of that and I just don't know how to worry in a healthy way. Is that even possible?

It feels personal to put this out there, but at the same time I don't want to hide who I am. I've wanted to blog about it for a long time.. I have several drafts saved. I couldn't finish them. Tonight though, as I feel that cold feeling rushing through my arms and chest, I just want to write.

I know I'm staring down at that dark road again and the scary thing about mental illness is that I don't know how far I'll have to travel down it this time. Is this as bad as it will get? Since I know it's coming and I know what this feeling is, will it be better this time? Will it go away?

The silver lining in this is that I know how to get help and I will. I'm not afraid that I won't be okay this time, it is just the in between that worries me. The fact that I can't psych myself out of this and I have no choice but to face it. There is no type of assurance from others that will make it go away either. I wish there was.

In a few hours my daughter will wake up for me to nurse her. She will look up with me with her beautiful eyes that I've grown to love and I know she will bring warmth to those cold places. I know my healing can only come from Him, but I also know He has sent me this sweet gift to help me heal.

I don't know if I've made sense here, or if my words are just a mess that only I can understand. Either way, I'm okay with it. I don't mind how raw this honesty feels, but I am also okay if not a single person can understand what I mean.

Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.

I Peter 5:7