Our brains are really tricky organs.
I have been at a point, for awhile now, where I know what is causing my anxiety. However, despite being cognitively aware of some of the causes, and trying to talk myself down logically, my body reacts on autopilot.
Breaking that script is difficult.
Stress is something that I both excel with and panic over. It is funny, really. To some extent, a certain level of stress acts as a stimulant. It gets me moving, spurs me into action, and helps me get shit done.
Other times, though, the stress starts to feel so overwhelming that I do not even know how to start.
But…I want to learn to live without it. To enjoy and embrace the quiet, instead of creating the chaos.
I feel the stress starting.
First, life has been hectic, as it tends to be. My sweet little guy had surgery a few days ago, and he is really hurting and struggling right now. It makes my mommy heart absolutely ache for him. I hate to see him cry and hurt…I hate to not be able to take it away. I hate how zoned out and loopy narcotic painkillers make him–yet, I am grateful they give him some relief. Motherhood is a constant ass-kicker.
Second…I am about to start my first real teaching job. My room is coming together. I like the way it looks. But…I am beginning to feel the PANIC start inside of me. The one that reminds me how much still needs to be done. How I don’t know the curriculum well. How, maybe, I really don’t know what I am doing, after all.
That voice of doubt is coming out–the one that reminds me of the high standard the school district expects from me, and the nagging fear that they will realize I am just some kind of sham.
So…I tell myself, You always freak out at the beginning of something new. And you always succeed. It will be okay. You love teaching. You are good at it! It is about the relationships.
The problem–every time I tell myself positive things like this, the impact feels so much weaker than the voice of doubt. That part of self that is a nagging, awful bitch.
To make matters worse, I am really struggling with PMS symptoms. A week before my period, like clockwork, the melancholy and depression feels worse. It can overtake me. I try looking at the calendar, recognizing the why, but, the feelings that come with it are real. And they are a serious downer.
I do stupid things. For example, today, I allowed myself to check out my former friend’s Facebook page. I haven’t been able to bring myself to un-friend her yet. I have, however, hidden her from view. Today, though, I looked at her page. All her happiness. Her new home. Her amazing anniversary vacation with the husband she really loves and who really loves her.
The ache of losing a friend is always hard for me. I wonder, and wonder, and fear…what was so wrong with me?
I think of the other people who have come and gone. I worry about the current people who are here and worry what I will do when, and if, they go, too.
It is terrible, really…knowing that I could have better self talk, but allowing these parts to come out, full force, and haunt me.
This is the next part of my journey. To give myself credit, I can recognize some recent situations where I have allowed some things to really eat at me, causing worry and fear. Yet, with some of that self talk, I was able to let it go faster than normal. So…there is some progress.
Progress, not perfection…right?