Asking For Help And Reuniting With Self Care

Stress inhabits the body in weird ways.

My first symptom of my anxiety disorder was located in my gut. Everyone told me it was stress, it was nerves, it was anxiety, and I refused to believe it. No, I have an illness, no there is something wrong inside my body. Now, I did have endometriosis and a heart condition, so it makes sense why I was so quick to assume something was not right physically. I was happy, from what I believed I had no reason to have stress or anxiety I was fine.

Yesterday I was typing away on my site about how I have been isolating, how I have been impatient for my next therapy appointment, and not wanting to talk to anyone else. Later that same day, I had pain. It sat in my pelvis, and I cursed my endometriosis for flaring up now when everything else seemed to be falling apart. I curled up in a ball on my bed, watching Tangled and relating to Rapunzel feeling trapped and controlled and desperately wanting to explore the world and feel free of the bars in her childhood.

 
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I skipped dinner, and held my very bloated belly which was gladly distracting me from the thoughts in my head I had been searching for an interruption from. As I listened to Rapunzel sing “When Will My Life Begin” I recognized a tightness in my chest, the racing of my heart, and the beginning stages of a migraine.

It could be my lack of sleep, my bird-like diet, dehydration.. absolutely. But all of these feelings, all together, allowed me to listen closer to what was going on inside my body. My jaw was tense, locked. My shoulders were curled forward, and probably had been for a long time. Escaping into a Disney film let my anxious thoughts hide away for a little while, but I was given the space to be mindful. I was realizing how my mental health was affecting me physically. My mind did not just ache, everything ached. I recall thinking, far too many times, I can’t live like this. How long am I going to feel like this? How many more nights am I going to toss and turn in my bed already wishing for tomorrow to be over?

Around 6pm on a Sunday I texted my therapist asking if we could speak before our next session. My anxiety told me I was bothering her, that she would be upset with me, that she would say no? I don’t know. None of that happened. She replied closer to 8pm, that she could speak briefly the next morning.

Weights left my shoulders, I could breathe a little easier, and I knew I did the right thing asking for what I needed, even if I did feel guilty about it.

I woke up today, Monday morning after a night of tossing and turning, a 20 minute check-in with her was exactly what I needed to have the strength to hang in there a little while longer. Trapped in a wave, I had forgotten my skills, and the tools I had that I could use to make this time even the slightest bit easier.

After that call, we agreed it would be helpful to check-in periodically throughout the day. At noon I sent her an update that I was hanging in there. I went for a nature walk with my mom, I took a shower, and I expected to take a bath later in the day to ease my pains. I also asked my friend if she would go for a run with me this week, even if we end up walking most of it. She was glad to hear that I was able to do those things. Next, we planned to check-in again for 5pm.

 
 

I woke up this morning in a different light, knowing I was not alone. My day started with my step-sister Maddy sharing her pancake batter, a warm mug of coffee and 2 chocolate chip pancakes which I covered in powdered sugar. The sun was out. My stomach hurt a little less. My mom even surprised me with something I can “bring to Hawaii” - handing me a 4 pack of Moana-themed chapstick. “You can pick the one you want, and the other 3 we will give to the little cousins!” It did make me smile. I had been short with my mom all week, and I realized it wasn’t about Moana-themed chapstick at all, not even about the reminder that very soon I will be leaving this nest and moving to Honolulu for graduate school. I realized, I was able to see good in something so small. Lately, that has not been the case.

Today, I’m doing okay. Soon I will dive back into trauma therapy and likely explore the depths that led me to my struggles this week, and I may start to struggle some more. I may start to heal some more too. It may be absolutely worse, before it gets better. I started my day thinking that I must be doing something terribly wrong, that I don’t know how to help myself. Hours later, typing here I realize I am doing many things right to help myself.

How about that.