Anxiety. It is a beastly creature. I have struggled with anxiety, mostly, in the last 6 years. As a teenager, I don't recall anxiety being an issue so much, but I battled depression. In adulthood, my biggest obstacle has been anxiety.
I remember my first anxiety attack.
It felt like a 50lb weight on my chest.
I couldn't breathe.
My heart was racing.
My chest hurt.
I couldn't calm down.
I honestly thought I was having a heart attack. I was at work and remember thinking, "They are going to have to call the EMT. Something is wrong with me." I was scared. Embarrassed.
Because something WAS wrong with me. Anxiety can be debilitating. Luckily for me that day, I leaned on a friend, and was brave enough to stand up from my desk and just...pace. I walked. And walked some more. Until I eventually felt enough relief in my chest that I could get in my car and drive. I left work early that day. I spent the remainder of the evening on my couch, just trying to breathe, to figure out what and why and how.
The next day I picked a primary caregiver (I never had one prior) and made an appointment. I knew this wasn't how I wanted to live. And I was still somewhat convinced I had a heart attack! At my appointment, my doctor listened to me. Which, I cannot say enough, was truly what I needed in that moment. I know how often women's symptoms get dismissed. And I am grateful for my doctor in that moment. He listened as I explained to him my current situation, I was a single mom of two going through a divorce, struggling to make it on my own two feet. I worked out regularly, ate a healthy diet, practiced yoga and pilates, attempted meditation. All to try and manage my stress. I had a support system of family and close friends. And yet, I was still suffering from anxiety.
We discussed options and recommendations and that day I left with two prescriptions, and reassurance I did not have a heart attack. I still needed a little help. For about 6 months, I took a daily antidepressant and an antianxiety for when I felt an attack on the horizon. It helped get me over the hump.
Since then, I have had multiple attacks, learned the signs and symptoms, still struggle to identify my triggers, and know how to ride the wave until they dissipate. They are still scary. I still wonder every time if THIS one is a heart attack taking me down. I no longer take medication and continue to try and manage my symptoms with regular exercise, a healthy diet, personal development, and support from my husband.
Last year, after my miscarriage and double surgeries, both my anxiety and depression peaked. But my body had failed me. I battled inward for a long time, trying to make sense of everything. I tried so hard to lean into the activities that had helped me before.
It "helped" for awhile, but soon I would discover I was in a place of survival...not healing.
The things that usually brought me joy, no longer seemed worth the energy. I was on a new birth control pill that plunged me deeper into a place of hopelessness. Luckily, I had someone else's experience I could pull from and I quit that medication. It helped a little.
I have two VERY active children. I woke up. I showed up. I drove them to every activity and engagement. But any free time to sleep, I took it. I'd climb back into bed and stay for as long as I could get away with. I am a health and wellness coach and a personal trainer. But my workouts became fewer. I stopped reaching out to help others. My engagements lessened.
How could I help others when I was in such a painful place, uncertain if I would ever get out?
I shared some with family members, but didn't want to burden them or come across dramatic. (A fun little habit from childhood but we won't unpack that box of fun right now!) People have miscarriages and complications all the time.
1 in 4. I wasn't alone. Except, only, I was all alone.
It wasn't until I experienced yet another anxiety attack in the middle of the night, this one waking my (now) husband, that I reached a turning point. I broke down. I shared everything that I was mistakenly keeping inside and calling "strength."
I felt lost.
Uncertain.
Angry.
So angry.
Confused.
Tired.
So tired.
With his help and support, I took little steps. He made sure we talked, even when I didn't want to. He never made me feel guilty or ashamed. He praised me when I experienced the littlest of victories, and reassured me on the days I could not. I cannot say enough what having that level of support did for me. It is hard to put into words.
Around this time I also decided to implement a new supplement regimen that I had bought months prior, but never truly gave a shot or the attention. I needed a boost. And so my Thrive journey began. It was my promise to myself that I would show up for me and keep working towards healing. I slowly pushed myself back into a fitness routine and I did it for me. Not for my clients. Or my accountability group. I had to do it for me.
I hate the phrase "give it time" because I always think, what if I am out of time? I definitely like quick results and think I should be able to will myself or work hard enough to get the results I require of myself and fast -- High expectations of irrational standards I tend to place on myself. I am always working on this. Unfortunately, some things take time.
But during all this time and a lot of struggle, deep down, I have never stopped believing that I deserved to feel good...to find peace.
I know that this belief is rooted in my health and fitness commitment and personal development. When you care for your body and health, you learn the importance of such practice. It doesn't mean you won't fall, or struggle, or feel defeated at times. It doesn't mean you will always be happy, or well, or experience hardship. But it does mean you will always find your way back to those rooted practices that helped you find your inner strength to begin with.
Change comes when you make a decision. And when you are ready to make a change -- lean into your support system -- forgive yourself when you fall off your path -- remember that you are worth the energy and time and focus to keep your overall health strong and balanced.
You got this. I know you do.
I remember my first anxiety attack.
It felt like a 50lb weight on my chest.
I couldn't breathe.
My heart was racing.
My chest hurt.
I couldn't calm down.
I honestly thought I was having a heart attack. I was at work and remember thinking, "They are going to have to call the EMT. Something is wrong with me." I was scared. Embarrassed.
Because something WAS wrong with me. Anxiety can be debilitating. Luckily for me that day, I leaned on a friend, and was brave enough to stand up from my desk and just...pace. I walked. And walked some more. Until I eventually felt enough relief in my chest that I could get in my car and drive. I left work early that day. I spent the remainder of the evening on my couch, just trying to breathe, to figure out what and why and how.
The next day I picked a primary caregiver (I never had one prior) and made an appointment. I knew this wasn't how I wanted to live. And I was still somewhat convinced I had a heart attack! At my appointment, my doctor listened to me. Which, I cannot say enough, was truly what I needed in that moment. I know how often women's symptoms get dismissed. And I am grateful for my doctor in that moment. He listened as I explained to him my current situation, I was a single mom of two going through a divorce, struggling to make it on my own two feet. I worked out regularly, ate a healthy diet, practiced yoga and pilates, attempted meditation. All to try and manage my stress. I had a support system of family and close friends. And yet, I was still suffering from anxiety.
We discussed options and recommendations and that day I left with two prescriptions, and reassurance I did not have a heart attack. I still needed a little help. For about 6 months, I took a daily antidepressant and an antianxiety for when I felt an attack on the horizon. It helped get me over the hump.
Since then, I have had multiple attacks, learned the signs and symptoms, still struggle to identify my triggers, and know how to ride the wave until they dissipate. They are still scary. I still wonder every time if THIS one is a heart attack taking me down. I no longer take medication and continue to try and manage my symptoms with regular exercise, a healthy diet, personal development, and support from my husband.
Last year, after my miscarriage and double surgeries, both my anxiety and depression peaked. But my body had failed me. I battled inward for a long time, trying to make sense of everything. I tried so hard to lean into the activities that had helped me before.
It "helped" for awhile, but soon I would discover I was in a place of survival...not healing.
The things that usually brought me joy, no longer seemed worth the energy. I was on a new birth control pill that plunged me deeper into a place of hopelessness. Luckily, I had someone else's experience I could pull from and I quit that medication. It helped a little.
I have two VERY active children. I woke up. I showed up. I drove them to every activity and engagement. But any free time to sleep, I took it. I'd climb back into bed and stay for as long as I could get away with. I am a health and wellness coach and a personal trainer. But my workouts became fewer. I stopped reaching out to help others. My engagements lessened.
How could I help others when I was in such a painful place, uncertain if I would ever get out?
I shared some with family members, but didn't want to burden them or come across dramatic. (A fun little habit from childhood but we won't unpack that box of fun right now!) People have miscarriages and complications all the time.
1 in 4. I wasn't alone. Except, only, I was all alone.
It wasn't until I experienced yet another anxiety attack in the middle of the night, this one waking my (now) husband, that I reached a turning point. I broke down. I shared everything that I was mistakenly keeping inside and calling "strength."
I felt lost.
Uncertain.
Angry.
So angry.
Confused.
Tired.
So tired.
With his help and support, I took little steps. He made sure we talked, even when I didn't want to. He never made me feel guilty or ashamed. He praised me when I experienced the littlest of victories, and reassured me on the days I could not. I cannot say enough what having that level of support did for me. It is hard to put into words.
Around this time I also decided to implement a new supplement regimen that I had bought months prior, but never truly gave a shot or the attention. I needed a boost. And so my Thrive journey began. It was my promise to myself that I would show up for me and keep working towards healing. I slowly pushed myself back into a fitness routine and I did it for me. Not for my clients. Or my accountability group. I had to do it for me.
I hate the phrase "give it time" because I always think, what if I am out of time? I definitely like quick results and think I should be able to will myself or work hard enough to get the results I require of myself and fast -- High expectations of irrational standards I tend to place on myself. I am always working on this. Unfortunately, some things take time.
But during all this time and a lot of struggle, deep down, I have never stopped believing that I deserved to feel good...to find peace.
I know that this belief is rooted in my health and fitness commitment and personal development. When you care for your body and health, you learn the importance of such practice. It doesn't mean you won't fall, or struggle, or feel defeated at times. It doesn't mean you will always be happy, or well, or experience hardship. But it does mean you will always find your way back to those rooted practices that helped you find your inner strength to begin with.
Change comes when you make a decision. And when you are ready to make a change -- lean into your support system -- forgive yourself when you fall off your path -- remember that you are worth the energy and time and focus to keep your overall health strong and balanced.
You got this. I know you do.
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