Monday: What anxiety feels like to me

A reflection as Bell Let’s Talk day approaches
My watch buzzes. It’s 5:00 am. I open my eyes, what time is it? How could it possibly be
morning already? I just fell asleep. I try to recall what kept me up last night. Was it a
weird dream, thoughts of work or coaching track (and field), regret for not cleaning the
condo like I intended over the weekend, napping too long on Sunday, or like most
nights, thoughts of self-doubt? 

My body feels heavy, the weight of the day is already upon me. Should I call in sick? My
doctor once gave me a sick note after an appointment. She knew I was in no condition
to go back to work that day. And yet, it still feels like anxiety is not a justifiable reason to
stay home. 

I press snooze (sometimes multiple times) in hopes it will all go away. That’s how I used
to deal with depression. Nothing bad can happen when you’re sleeping. Your problems
may not go away, but you certainly don’t have to deal with them. 

My watch buzzes again. It really is time to get up. I roll out of bed, grab my phone that is
charging on my nightstand and head to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

Since I don’t have a TV, my main source for news and entertainment is podcasts. I open
up the podcast app and find The Daily (The New York Times). I wonder what terrible
thing they will report on this morning. An interviewee on a different podcast I listen to,
said something to the effect of, she cannot wait for things to go back to “boring” on
Capitol Hill. I look forward to that day as well. They don’t always talk about what’s
happening in the US. In fact, it was on this very podcast (along with The Current - CBC)
that I learned of a strange new illness in Wuhan, China (A Virus’s Journey Across China
- January 30, 2020). 

I often cannot focus, even when doing simple tasks like brushing my teeth. Thoughts
whirl, I try not to pay attention, I hit rewind more times than I can count. This is one
reason I have yet to take on audio books. 

As my body slowly begins to wake up, I move to the kitchen to assemble my lunch and
make (stove-top) coffee to take to work. The fog has not lifted from my brain. And
believe it or not, the coffee will not help. It is a ritual that I practice on weekdays. As
much as I love the taste it does nothing for my alertness or energy. 

I’m running late. I’ve checked email, Facebook, and Instagram for what, I don’t know. 

It’s time to get out the door, but not before I check the condo. Since moving 5 years
ago, I’ve developed this need to ensure the patio door is locked (less so now as snow
covers my balcony) and that the stove is off. I cannot leave the condo if this is not done
(it’s worse if I’m going away on a trip). I don’t have a certain number of times I have to
check, and so I don’t know if I have OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder: an often- misunderstood disorder that sometimes accompanies anxiety). Once I feel comfortable that the stove is off and patio door is secure, I can finally leave for work. I listen for any sign of my neighbours. I don’t want them to see or hear me as I leave. You guessed it; I have to check to make sure the door is locked.  

By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I’ve used up all my energy on small talk and
blocking out noise (including my own internal dialogue) all while trying to do my actual
job. Before the pandemic I would rush to the Field House to resume my duties as a
coach. A passion I love, however, it too can be draining.  

With track and field put on hold I’m home earlier than I typically would be. I find myself
wanting to sit on the couch and scroll rather than make supper and do other productive
things. My jaw hurts, my shoulders are sore, and my hips are tight. All tell-tale signs I’m
keeping things in and need to release. That release often comes in the form of walks,
jogs, and yoga throughout the week. I also try to eat a balanced diet to help settle my
anxious stomach. 

Once I’ve had supper and cleaned the dishes (or not), I ponder starting something
productive. But first I check email, Facebook, and Instagram. After checking in with my
boyfriend, I decide to read. Its 9:30 pm and my phone buzzes to let me know it’s time to
wind-down. Already?! I just got home from work. Where has the time gone? I’m tired,
but I read a few pages. My eyes become droopy. I put the book down, get out of bed
and check to make sure the door is locked. As I lay down, I hope for a good sleep.
​
I have come to accept my anxiety. It no longer rules my life, contrary to the above. It
took many years of medication, therapy, and self-compassion to get to this point. Mental
illness is not something one should ever go through alone. Sharing is not only about
bringing awareness, but also about connecting to those around me in a deeper way. I
don’t always have the words to speak. I feel more comfortable writing. I hope in doing
so, you find it within you to share your story too.