The monster had been slowly growing.
Ended up calling out of work , couldn’t drive in. The icy roads, the 4×4 fish tailing in front of me.
It started, with the positive self talk, “you got this!” “You can do this!”
Visualized myself making it safely to work, talking with co-workers. The wonderful conversions and listening to podcasts through the night.
The fluffy white snow fell against the windshield. I still reminded myself, that I could do this.
Until, my body betrays me, it was too late. She takes over. My heart is racing. I am starting to lose my breath. My heart beating faster than a cheetah runs. So hard it feels like a jack hammer is about to explode through my chest. I fight the tears. Now isn’t the time to cry. Blowing snow. Ice. Cars. Breathing is getting harder. I’m grasping as if I’m underwater.
“Pull over!” The voice inside my head screams. “Get off the road!” Barely gaining control, slowly zigzagging my way home. The drive feels like forever as I struggle to keep perceived control. Focused breathing.
And yet, the voice still lingers. Angry co workers. Upset boss. And I have to stop the snowball from gaining momentum downhill. “I’m safe. Everything will be okay. I’ll be okay.”
Once inside. I can breath. I’m shaky. Relieved. Home.
Frantically processing, why. I am reminded that I have been in two car accidents in one year. Both times someone ran into me. The last accident my car was totaled. No fatal injuries. However, the effects still linger. The fear or being out of control. The fear that at anytime, I can be a victim. The fear that I have no power. The snow, the ice, amplified this fear. And in my best intentions, I became powerless to my anxiety. The will to survive took over.
I call my mom. Her ability to calm. I am lucky. And I realize anxiety is a member of my family. Generations deep.
I texted a friend, who walks with me, in the Ifa tradition (African earth based spirituality). She replies, that she wonders why Eshu (the God of crossroads, and responsible for opening and closing doors and roads), closed my door.
Because, I needed to tend to myself. I needed to give myself space and time. I needed to heal my family wounds.
I haven’t been taking my tea or tinctures. The skullcap to quiet my thoughts. Dandelion root to sooth, to root, to dig below.The neddles to protect. I haven’t been making time to stop, to sit, to be in silence. To connect to myself.
I’ve been rushed, focused on others.
Anxiety thrives in our subconscious. Plays with the traumas, pains, stories we bury. Conspires with the body to force is to see what we deny. Anxiety had a way of taking control, running the show. Controlling us.
In the throws of anxiety, stop. Focus on your breath. Feel your body relax. Acknowledge anxiety. Greet it. You don’t have to accept it. Just say hello. Focus on your breath and the calming of your body.
And this is where we start….