Anxiety

The only good thing about a day of anxiety...the one redeeming quality of a long, frustrating, emotional day...is when I become aware that the anxiety has finally retreated. Sometimes I can actually feel it slink away, usually when I am in bed, my body finally becoming more fluid, my stomach and leg muscles no longer rigid, my mind no longer racing to worst case scenarios, my heart easing into a natural rhythm. Other times, it disappears without me noticing because I have been able to focus on something else. In times like those, I suddenly become aware of the changes in my body and mind, and I smile and say to myself, "All right. I've survived it again." No matter how it happens, its a cause for quiet celebration each time. And moments to reflect and remind myself, "See...you are always stronger that it is. You will beat it every time. It will never win. No matter how much it twists your body into knots or causes your mind to ruminate, you will make it through to the other side." Is it worth all the hard stuff, to have those few moments of feeling at least relatively proud and strong? I'm not sure it's exactly worth it. It's definitely not an even trade off. But its better than never feeling proud or strong at all. Last night my girls saved me. As they have done many times before. Concentrating on their energy, their enthusiasm, their uninhibited, fearless zeal for life, I climbed aboard their train of teenage giddiness and left my blanket of anxiety on the tracks. Unfortunately, I woke up this morning once again swaddled in that familar cloak. But I know I'll make it through, and at some point in the day I will realize I have shed that straightjacket once again. librarianintx