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Category: stress

Small Steps

Small Steps

She no longer throws temper tantrums when we hand her the keys to the car. Her voice is clear and thoughtful during sessions with the therapist, as if a light bulb clicked on inside her head. There’s now a comfort and understanding that comes from the therapy and with time and practice it lessens the anxiety.

The anxiety, I’m sure, will always be there. That’s not the goal of the sessions. The goal is to give her the opportunity to live her life as fully as possible. She’s understanding how to recognize the unrealistic fears and to accept her homework, exposing herself to what frightens her.

There are no easy fixes, no cure-all pill. There’s only a lot of little steps, tweaks to behavior that reduce the stress associated with the things that we take for granted. Will she be able to grocery shop and ask for help, explain to her doctor what hurts, ask her professor for clarification, find someone to have lunch with?

Taking in the whole picture is like eating an elephant in one bite. It’s too big. But by breaking down the problem into manageable pieces to work through, with consistent practice, is the only way to break down the walls.

One problem at a time, whether it be driving, we make her do it more often, or order her sandwich at Subway, I always make her go in by herself. Because practice breeds familiarity which lessens the anxiety.

I hear in my daughter’s voice it’s stronger, less tearful, honest, with me, her father, her therapist. She understands why we’re doing this, this intense training to overcome certain anxiety. She’s no longer a reluctant participant. Though it’s still not easy, it’s manageable and that makes it worthwhile.

 

 

 

 

 

Raising an Introvert

Raising an Introvert

I’m an introvert; the type of person who if I have more than one scheduled event in a day, I’m not happy. It’s not because I hate doing things, it has to do with needing down time; time to recharge, to refresh and to get away from people.

As an adult I realized that I’m responsible for adjusting to situations that render me anxious. I can either hide from those experiences, or I can face them head on. Knowing this, I recently took a job at a small firm in which I was to sell a service to members. It was such a departure from the types of jobs I normally take that I wasn’t sure it was the right path for me. I’ve always hated speaking on the phone, I need visual cues to adapt my conversation, but this job, I lost that and talking on the phone is generally stressful for me. But I’m adult and I realized that the only way I can gain experience and feel comfortable was to make myself uncomfortable.

I took the job against my better judgment because I’m 46 years old. I have more experience, more live behind me and most importantly, the desire to make a change. But what I really have is a 16 year old daughter who I recognize in her, all of my struggles. And as I live through them once again and for my daughter, it breaks my heart.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing her struggles as she works through her fear and anxiety. The goal is to help her grow into a functioning adult and learn to enjoy her life, not hide from it. I recognize me in her and as a parent; I want her struggle to not be as hard as mine was. But when is the right to let go of our children and push them out of the nest?

We decided it was time to make her uncomfortable, to bring the fear to the surface and retrain her thought process on anxiety and fear, reconditioning her to learn what she needs to take a step toward what makes her scared. She doesn’t like it; it’s hard to watch her cry and fight it, but in the end, it’s my job to help her reach adulthood as happy and healthy as I can.

She may not like me now, but I’m hoping by the time she reaches adulthood, she will at least see that the emotional pain was all worth it. We aren’t always able to go against are basic personality. My daughter and I will always be introverts. All we can do is find a ways to deal with it so that life is better, more rewarding and fulfilling.

Sometimes raising kids is really hard and we have to do things that break our hearts, but in the end I know for my daughter, she will come out on the other side stronger than she started.

Rock Bottom

Rock Bottom

Every bad situation has a rock bottom. That place when you just can’t endure the sadness, frustration or pain any longer. For some it can sink deeper than others, we all have our limits. They’re determined by our experiences; all that baggage we carry with us, our struggles our travails. We all have them, we all dig deep as we endure and our brick walls or rock bottom are ours and ours alone.

My rock bottom isn’t one experience, it’s a period of time, that encompasses a whole lot situations. A job, a personal relationship, health issues, regardless of what comprises my rock bottom, I think I finally hit it. I think the climb out of mediocrity and moving slowly upwards, the lack of sleep, the lack of fun, the constant work, the job change, finding myself taking one step forward and moving two steps back, finally crashed down around me.

I feel as though I’m walking through a pile of rubble. All of my experiences broken pieces lying on the ground around me. All examples of my trudge through mediocrity and I’m tired. Sleepless nights tossing and turning, dreading the daylight because its ugly and it doesn’t lie. It shows everything for what it is, in all it’s brightness, exposing what I try so hard to hide.

Near tears all the time, because what I do while awake is for everyone else but for myself because when I try to do for myself, the rest of my life crashes in around me. Things don’t get done, kids get angry, guilt that I should be anywhere other than where I am chokes me. I clench my jaws as I keep the tears from falling.

I don’t believe in self-help books because I know what the issues are and I know what I need to do in order to release the stress, remove the sadness and let go. I know what I need to do. But will circumstances allow me to make the changes and do what I need to do to not feel like this anymore.

It’s the feeling of walking on a treadmill, the one in which I walk at a brisk and steady pace and yet I move nowhere. I think this is my rock bottom, my fork in the road. The time to make the decision on where I need to go. I just need to find my way out. It’s not a matter of picking the path less travelled. It’s about picking the path that will allow you peace and happiness. For some that’s through the untamed jungle and for others it’s the path that leads them to the dream.

I’ve given up the last year of my life for the dream. I’ve given up time with family and friends. I’ve given up time for myself, I given up hobbies and I’ve agreed to do things that I don’t wish to do, things that are good for others but not good for me. Because somewhere along the line someone wrote doormat on my forehead.

It’s my rock bottom. The place where I say Enough. Because I no longer want to settle for mediocrity. I no longer want to believe that someone else is thinking of me and this is good for me, especially when I know it’s not. It’s time to no longer let someone dictate what’s best for me. Only I can be the judge of that.

This is my rock bottom. My acknowledging that this is no longer acceptable. I have a dream and not honoring me, is no longer allowed.

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