Take time to not go crazy
I don't consider myself to be mentally ill.
Of course, some people argue that anxiety is a mental disorder and it very well may be but I'd like to think I have a manageable form of anxiety.
This means, for the most part, I am able to function as a (relatively) normal member of society.
My anxiety is mostly internal. It rarely ever manifests itself into something physical or noticeable like panic attacks or anything that drastic.
But it is always there.
It's that nagging feeling that I am not good enough. That constant worry that I'll never get better. That ever present feeling that I am being judged. That overwhelming fear about what the future holds. That refusal to trust anyone who isn't in the small circle of people that I've grown accustomed to.
I guess everyone feels that way at some point.
I've felt that way my entire life.
It never leaves. And it affects my interaction with others. I withdraw into myself and I avoid too many friendships. I turn down every single invitation to social events, not because I don't want to go, but because I know I'd be awkward and uncomfortable when I get there. I won't fit in. So I observe the world without really, truly participating in it.
I have been getting better. I made a friend last year. An actual friend. Not a Facebook one. This is a huge step for me. And I've been going out more, not to parties or anything (oh God no!) but participating in group activities like hiking and 5k races and things I actually enjoy.
Anyway, the past couple of weeks have got me thinking about my mental health.
Because for some reason almost every single day over the last two weeks, I've found myself fighting back tears for seemingly no reason at all.
I can be sitting at my desk, all of a sudden I'm crying.
Someone says something or I smell something, and it's like a trigger and I start crying.
And I can't pinpoint exactly what it is I'm crying about.
Until someone asked me how come I haven't posted about my walking adventures in a while.
It hit me. This ridiculous, sporadic, seemingly reasonless crying started a couple weeks ago.
When I decided to cut back on walking for safety reasons.
I started walking a year ago. Almost exactly a year actually. In April 2017. It started as a way to get exercise, to improve my physical health and to lose weight.
I gained all three benefits. But I also gained a fourth.
My mind has been at ease.
For the past year, I have used walking as a coping mechanism...an outlet to relieve stress.
And being unable to do it as regularly as I would like has been driving me nuts.
I'd like to think I'm a strong person. I don't give up easily and I don't let things deter me from what I want to achieve. But even strong people need an outlet. Walking has been mine.
Some people relieve their stress through negative methods that morph into addictions. Some people drink. Some smoke or do drugs. Some eat ( I used to do this). Some have sex. Things that make you feel good temporarily. That's what walking has been doing for me.
I can be dealing with any number of things and feeling so overwhelmed, but the minute I lace up my shoes and hit the road, it's like the problems diminish with each mile. And when I'm done, I feel accomplished and ready to tackle them head on. Because I feel like if I can walk 16 miles without stopping then, fuck it, I can finish that research paper due in 2 hours. If I can walk up a mountain, then what the hell can't I do?
It truly is empowering.
But these past few weeks I felt like my problems were growing and swallowing me up. I don't want to use the word depression, that sounds scary. But that's where it seemed to be headed.
These past few weeks have made me realize that it is important to make time for yourself to do the things that bring you peace. Even if it seems crazy to other people.
A friend told me she colors to relieve stress. That is something I can't understand because I know coloring would do nothing for me. But it works for her.
Another friend told me she cleans to achieve mental peace. Doing laundry, washing dishes, cleaning the house from top to bottom...that's her outlet. To me that is counterproductive. Ha! Manual labor to feel calm? Girl, I cannot even imagine. But it works for her.
Everybody has an outlet. Everybody NEEDS an outlet.
And I need to get back in the swing of mine.
This weekend I will be lacing up again and walking like my life depends on it. Because in a way, it does.
If my mind is not in the right place, then I cannot be the mother, the friend, the student, the employee and the many other things I need to be.
Of course, some people argue that anxiety is a mental disorder and it very well may be but I'd like to think I have a manageable form of anxiety.
This means, for the most part, I am able to function as a (relatively) normal member of society.
My anxiety is mostly internal. It rarely ever manifests itself into something physical or noticeable like panic attacks or anything that drastic.
But it is always there.
It's that nagging feeling that I am not good enough. That constant worry that I'll never get better. That ever present feeling that I am being judged. That overwhelming fear about what the future holds. That refusal to trust anyone who isn't in the small circle of people that I've grown accustomed to.
I guess everyone feels that way at some point.
I've felt that way my entire life.
It never leaves. And it affects my interaction with others. I withdraw into myself and I avoid too many friendships. I turn down every single invitation to social events, not because I don't want to go, but because I know I'd be awkward and uncomfortable when I get there. I won't fit in. So I observe the world without really, truly participating in it.
Anyway, the past couple of weeks have got me thinking about my mental health.
Because for some reason almost every single day over the last two weeks, I've found myself fighting back tears for seemingly no reason at all.
I can be sitting at my desk, all of a sudden I'm crying.
Someone says something or I smell something, and it's like a trigger and I start crying.
And I can't pinpoint exactly what it is I'm crying about.
Until someone asked me how come I haven't posted about my walking adventures in a while.
It hit me. This ridiculous, sporadic, seemingly reasonless crying started a couple weeks ago.
When I decided to cut back on walking for safety reasons.
I started walking a year ago. Almost exactly a year actually. In April 2017. It started as a way to get exercise, to improve my physical health and to lose weight.
I gained all three benefits. But I also gained a fourth.
My mind has been at ease.
For the past year, I have used walking as a coping mechanism...an outlet to relieve stress.
And being unable to do it as regularly as I would like has been driving me nuts.
I'd like to think I'm a strong person. I don't give up easily and I don't let things deter me from what I want to achieve. But even strong people need an outlet. Walking has been mine.
Some people relieve their stress through negative methods that morph into addictions. Some people drink. Some smoke or do drugs. Some eat ( I used to do this). Some have sex. Things that make you feel good temporarily. That's what walking has been doing for me.
I can be dealing with any number of things and feeling so overwhelmed, but the minute I lace up my shoes and hit the road, it's like the problems diminish with each mile. And when I'm done, I feel accomplished and ready to tackle them head on. Because I feel like if I can walk 16 miles without stopping then, fuck it, I can finish that research paper due in 2 hours. If I can walk up a mountain, then what the hell can't I do?
It truly is empowering.
But these past few weeks I felt like my problems were growing and swallowing me up. I don't want to use the word depression, that sounds scary. But that's where it seemed to be headed.
These past few weeks have made me realize that it is important to make time for yourself to do the things that bring you peace. Even if it seems crazy to other people.
A friend told me she colors to relieve stress. That is something I can't understand because I know coloring would do nothing for me. But it works for her.
Another friend told me she cleans to achieve mental peace. Doing laundry, washing dishes, cleaning the house from top to bottom...that's her outlet. To me that is counterproductive. Ha! Manual labor to feel calm? Girl, I cannot even imagine. But it works for her.
Everybody has an outlet. Everybody NEEDS an outlet.
And I need to get back in the swing of mine.
This weekend I will be lacing up again and walking like my life depends on it. Because in a way, it does.
If my mind is not in the right place, then I cannot be the mother, the friend, the student, the employee and the many other things I need to be.
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