For the past few days my level of anxiety has really been ramping up. Since we first began working towards our move, I've had so many different things to focus on that I haven't had time to sit still and be. Now that we are pretty settled into the new house and life has gone back to normal (just in a different location) my brain is freaking the F out. It doesn't help that we are adjusting my antidepressant/anxiety med regimen. All of these things combined makes for a miserable body to live in.
My heart feels like it is hooked up to jumper cables controlled by some sadistic maniac.
I can't seem to calm down. I've been drinking tea, taking baths, trying to sit on the couch and zone out....all to no avail. I feel completely and utterly helpless and scared for NO REASON. I literally have not a thing to freak out about, but I'm freaking out all the same. I keep trying to talk sense into myself - it isn't doing any good. The only thing that is keeping me from completely losing it is knowing that (eventually) the chemicals in my body will balance themselves out and I will start feeling okay again. (They will....right?????!)
Of course, when you're feeling like you're crawling out of your skin all day long and it's been going on for almost a week, you may want to scream at the top of your lungs and pull out every single hair on your head.
This has made my ED recovery a bit more challenging as well.
In the past I always used my ED as a way to control my emotions. It was a quick-fix to stamp out any anxiety. Now that I am not using unhealthy behaviors anymore I don't have a go-to that works as well. I'm certainly NOT saying that it was a good way to deal with anything. I'm simply stating that it was effective. Deadly, but effective.
I don't ever want to go back to that way of life and I don't plan on giving in to any of these nasty compulsions. But the ED part of my brain keeps tempting me by telling me that I could stop this feeling right now. I just have to jump off that cliff (speaking in metaphors, people!), and everything will be okay again. The rational part of my brain then points out that if I succumb to the disease again it will just make everything so much worse in the long run.
Like it-could-kill-me worse.
So I continue to sit. And drink tea. And take bubble baths. And do anything to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied so that ED doesn't have a chance to hypnotize me again.
I know I sound bat-shit crazy.
That's probably because I feel like I'm losing my mind.
Here's hoping the light at the end of the tunnel shows itself soon.
*AGRESSIVE SELF CARE SELF CARE SELF CARE*