Cardigan: Lou and Grey (similar and on sale!); Tank: Nordstrom Rack (in stores); Jeans: Gap; Sandals: Shopbop; Necklace: c/o Rocksbox*
*Get a month free with code: ladiesinnavyxoxo
I wish I had something bubblier to write about today, but the truth is the last two weeks have been really tough in the anxiety-department and I'm feeling pretty run-down. Big events usually set off a chain of anxious events that I have a hard time wrangling back down to real life size. Leave it to an anxiety disorder to turn a million (very very small) molehills into these massive mountains that I can't seem to shrink.
When I first got engaged, I instantly thought forward to the wedding date and wondered how I, someone with a pretty unwieldily anxiety disorder, would make it through. Turns out it was a fair line of internal questioning. And I can let you know that it hasn't been a particularly pretty process. I really am always awed by Ben's ability to put up with my anxious episodes (they're not cute, guys) and am thankful every single day that he does.
When I get too stressed out, my anxiety tank overflows and it's hard to shove all that anxiety back into its contained space. Once it's overflowing, my anxiety usually manifests with physical symptoms. I start getting hives. Just sporadic, inconvenient, full-body patches of raised, itchy welts. I've learned to treat these as passing ocean squalls. They come through, leave their temporary mark, but in a few hours pass and dry up. But once my hives stopped phasing me, my body decided to head off in different directions. Rashes that don't let me sleep, aching stomach pains that feel like I'm about to keel over, nausea, lumps in the throat, heart palpitations and lightheadedness... you name it. My body wages some kind of fake physical war on me that's quite something to watch in action. If I didn't know better I'd suppose I was rapidly dying of something incurable. Luckily, I do know better. It's all in my head.
It's hard to explain to someone that doesn't experience panic attacks or generalized anxiety, but the crushing fear and doom and gloom of an anxious episode is a powerful force. And it loves to strike me right before bed. Sitting there in the dark, it's often as if the entire world just flipped on its axis, or a massive meteor strike just occurred, or the house is falling down around me. How wild our brains are! To invent such a tall tale that I can't sleep for fear that nothing will ever be okay and life has been ultimately altered into this bizarre and terrible world.
For those going through something similar, I don't have a lot of advice (clearly I haven't figured it out), but I do recommend talking about it and laughing about it as much as possible. Anxiety can be such a powerful force when left to its own devices, locked away in the dark, and let to fester. You need to air out your head and heart - speak the words that may sound ludicrous (like the four paragraphs above), acknowledge the crazy that's bubbling behind the scenes, and then find someone that you can laugh about it with. In the end, it's all pretty silly to think about, regardless of how un-silly it feels.
*Get a month free with code: ladiesinnavyxoxo
I wish I had something bubblier to write about today, but the truth is the last two weeks have been really tough in the anxiety-department and I'm feeling pretty run-down. Big events usually set off a chain of anxious events that I have a hard time wrangling back down to real life size. Leave it to an anxiety disorder to turn a million (very very small) molehills into these massive mountains that I can't seem to shrink.
When I first got engaged, I instantly thought forward to the wedding date and wondered how I, someone with a pretty unwieldily anxiety disorder, would make it through. Turns out it was a fair line of internal questioning. And I can let you know that it hasn't been a particularly pretty process. I really am always awed by Ben's ability to put up with my anxious episodes (they're not cute, guys) and am thankful every single day that he does.
When I get too stressed out, my anxiety tank overflows and it's hard to shove all that anxiety back into its contained space. Once it's overflowing, my anxiety usually manifests with physical symptoms. I start getting hives. Just sporadic, inconvenient, full-body patches of raised, itchy welts. I've learned to treat these as passing ocean squalls. They come through, leave their temporary mark, but in a few hours pass and dry up. But once my hives stopped phasing me, my body decided to head off in different directions. Rashes that don't let me sleep, aching stomach pains that feel like I'm about to keel over, nausea, lumps in the throat, heart palpitations and lightheadedness... you name it. My body wages some kind of fake physical war on me that's quite something to watch in action. If I didn't know better I'd suppose I was rapidly dying of something incurable. Luckily, I do know better. It's all in my head.
It's hard to explain to someone that doesn't experience panic attacks or generalized anxiety, but the crushing fear and doom and gloom of an anxious episode is a powerful force. And it loves to strike me right before bed. Sitting there in the dark, it's often as if the entire world just flipped on its axis, or a massive meteor strike just occurred, or the house is falling down around me. How wild our brains are! To invent such a tall tale that I can't sleep for fear that nothing will ever be okay and life has been ultimately altered into this bizarre and terrible world.
For those going through something similar, I don't have a lot of advice (clearly I haven't figured it out), but I do recommend talking about it and laughing about it as much as possible. Anxiety can be such a powerful force when left to its own devices, locked away in the dark, and let to fester. You need to air out your head and heart - speak the words that may sound ludicrous (like the four paragraphs above), acknowledge the crazy that's bubbling behind the scenes, and then find someone that you can laugh about it with. In the end, it's all pretty silly to think about, regardless of how un-silly it feels.