Never too much, Always enough

As I sit here listening to the melodious rain, looking through my window and watching the rhythmic drops, I can’t help but think about the idea of always enough and never too much, and how in our times of dysregulation we can feel flooded.  Much like the rain, that California desperately needs for our infinite drought (suggesting that we don’t have enough), our structural systems say otherwise with statewide flooding (suggesting that we are getting too much). The torrential downpour has overwhelmed our cities over the last few weeks and caused a lot of issues, because we are being flooded. Our nervous systems work in a similar fashion. When we are in stressful, emotional and/or traumatic situations, or we have prolonged repeated exposure to negative or distressing stimulus, we can become flooded. Suddenly we begin to question ourselves. Are we enough? Are we good enough, strong enough, worthy enough? Can we be enough, do enough, accomplish enough? We might even feel like we are too much for certain people. Perhaps our internal dialogue is asking, am I too much? Am I too needy, do I require too much, am I asking too much? While we are each responsible for our self-regulation, we do need to look at some important factors when we notice that we are asking ourselves these questions:

1.   Are we exposing ourselves to toxic people and relationships? If so, are we doing this because we feel we must? You might feel like you can save the person (love them enough, be enough, do enough). You might feel like you can’t leave because you worry about them and their well-being and feel like you must stay in the relationship.

2.   Are we in a dysfunctional cycle? Is our body seeking a dysfunctional homeostasis because it’s our “normal?”

3.   Are we dependent on the feelings we get from the highs and lows? Is our body dependent on stress responses?

4.   Are we in distorted thinking patterns, like, all or nothing. Either I have this relationship (all) or I will be alone (nothing). We rationalize the all by saying it isn’t always bad, and we romanticize the good, even when the good is bare minimum.

5.   We grew up with these narratives. If we function best in an earning mentality, and we are constantly striving to please people, we might have learned that if we do enough, we are enough. But if we aren’t needed, then we are discarded, which validates our fear of not being enough or being too much maintenance in a relationship.

There are of course more things to consider and explore as we wrestle with this distortion. That being said, it is so important to remind yourself that in a healthy, loving, reciprocal relationship you will never be too much for someone. They will hold space for you, encourage you to seek and be your best self, and remind you of your worth. They will pursue the relationship as well and choose you. They will expect you to be accountable for your actions and behavior, just as they hold themselves accountable for theirs. Likewise, you will always be enough. You will not need to earn, do, or be anything but your authentic self. They will have a desire to connect in ways that are meaningful to you, because they see you do the same. They will remind you of your inherent worth and value and encourage you to see yourself for the amazing person you truly are. This is not to say that we ever have an “arrival point.” In a healthy, growth-oriented relationship, both people are self-aware, have good boundaries, and a desire to grow as individuals and with one another. If someone is behaving in a way that is not congruent to who they are, the other person will make an effort to have a loving and gentle conversation and encourage further insight and awareness. When we do this with good intent, it keeps the emotional dysregulation and flooding to a minimum and allows for healthy, problem-solving conversations and effective communication.

Many of us grew up with this fear. That we are too much work for someone, or not worth enough. We carry this deep within our hearts and struggle to let go, because it is also how we (often) see ourselves. When the checklist is complete, it feels good for a short while, and then, inevitably, there is always another checklist to feel whole. We do not have to live this way though. We can get to a place where we recognize our worth is inherent and our value is not determined on what we can do or do not do. In fact, our existence proves that we were chosen. We have a purpose, and there is a plan for our lives. Song of Songs 4:7 says, “You are altogether beautiful my darling, there is no flaw in you.” And Jeremiah 29:11 reminds us, “these are the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper, and not harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future.” In Psalm 139 God reminds us that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, woven together with intention. One of the greatest lies of all time is the “enough” lie. The serpent whispered it to Eve in the beginning, and we still struggle with it now. “If God loved you enough, He wouldn’t withhold a good thing from you. He just doesn’t want you to be like Him.” And so he whispers in our ears, “it’s because you aren’t enough.” Or “it’s because you are too much.” But it was a lie then, and it’s a lie now, and once we recognize it, it has no power over us unless we give it power, we can step into our value and remind ourselves of truth. Whether you are a believer or not, if you have breath in your lungs, there is purpose for your life, and that isn’t to struggle with lies like these. It isn’t to live in a perpetually flooded or dysregulated state. On the contrary, God (that is my belief, but perhaps you believe in energy or the universe, or karma…) wants you to live life and live it in abundance. He wants you to know that you are worthy, amazing, and deeply loved for who you are and who you have yet to become.

When you sense this thought creeping in your mind, close your eyes and imagine yourself in the pouring rain. Washing you clean. Feel the water permeating your soul and open your eyes to watch the negative thoughts flow away from you with the water. You do not have to believe this distortion; it was never yours to begin with. Your thoughts become your beliefs, and it is important to be mindful of what you tell yourself regularly because you are paying attention. Remind yourself of your truth, your reasons, your beliefs. Remind yourself that regardless of what others may have said, or what you may have wrestled with in the past, you don’t have to bring it into the present.  Remind yourself, you are never too much and always enough.  

My Story of Pain and Purpose

I am complex.

We all are. We are all so much more than what others see. We are more than what others believe us to be. We are more than unmet expectations, boxes that have been constructed for us to fit into, and the disappointments others express in us.

We are also so much more than the good days. The perfect Instagram worthy posts. The pinterest projects and endless to-do lists that finally got done. We are more than sunshine and rainbows and the smiles plastered to our faces.

We are more than the fake and phony. We are more than the pretending and “I’m fine.” We are more than our illness and wellness. We are complex.

When I set out on this journey to share my story, I really did not think of the extent of what my story was. You see, I had been taught (somewhere along the way), that my story and my voice did not matter. It was not as important as someone else’s. The pain not as great as another’s. The trauma not as significant and therefore devalued; it means nothing if someone has it worse. But I want to change that narrative. I believe fully and wholly that transparency and vulnerability create meaningful connection. When we realize that we are not alone in our journeys, that people genuinely care and understand, we are able to move forward with hope.

I hope that in my sharing, you will find your light. You will believe that wellness is possible. Healing is possible. You are worth investing in and that people do genuinely care.

I was just a little girl, 4 years old when my Opi (German grandpa) passed away. I can still remember playing happy birthday for him on my portable keyboard. He was in his bed a lot at this time, but that didn’t matter, I loved him, and he loved me, and I just enjoyed his company. One day my parents sent me to stay with my cousin. I recall vividly them hurrying me into the car to get back to my house. I plead for them to tell me what was going on, but no one would. When we got back everyone was crying, and my Opi was gone. No one would tell me what was going on, but his bed was empty. That was when I first drew the conclusion that when I leave bad things happen. This thought process planted its faulty seed into my mind and sprouted years of agony and trying to be there for everyone and everything. But bad stuff inevitably happens. Shortly thereafter my parents decided to move to the United States. I was 6. I left behind my friends, family, pets, home, and belongings. I got on a plane and moved to California, we lived with my “American” grandparents. I did not speak or understand English, I was put into an ESL class (where everyone, including the teacher spoke Spanish), I had no friends, and I was the weird foreign kid. An immigrant. Throughout school I endured pretty severe bullying, from kids and teachers alike. I was locked into dark bathrooms, death threats were issued to me and my family if I ever told anyone, I was called a Nazi often. So, I became a chameleon. I learned how to fit and adapt. How to be liked and how to keep others happy. Once I had “friends” the bullying did not matter as much anymore. Some kids thought it was cool that I spoke a different language and that I was “different.” What I really wanted them to believe is that I was the same.

At home things were not much better. My parents worked a lot, they had to, and I respect how far they have come and the lives they have made for themselves. I endured a lot of verbal abuse from a relative. I was told I did not matter. That I would never have friends. I was too ugly. I was not worth life. I was told, as a young girl, that no one would ever want me. This person would purposely make fun of me when my friends were around, call me degrading names, tell me I should run away or die. What was meant to break me, only made me stronger. I realized this person was afraid of me. Afraid of my courage and strength, of my intelligence and resiliency. This person wanted to bring me down because they were unhappy; they projected themselves onto me. I watched as they continued to try to berate and belittle me, and I chose not to break. I chose not to let them see me cry. To say it didn’t hurt would be a lie, but when you are exposed to pain repeatedly, eventually you go numb. The numbness worked to my advantage though, it allowed me to live my life as the positive person that I knew I was. I have always loved people; loved helping and being there for others. No one was going to change that about me. I grew up around substance use and abuse as well, I learned that a lot of people self-medicate at an early age. I was a latch-key kid and always tried my hardest to help my parents in any way I could.

When I was younger, I didn’t know that I had anxiety. I would feel sick every day (somatic symptoms) and go to the nurse. I had trouble sleeping even when I was little and would experience night terrors and nightmares basically every night. I learned how to stay up all night reading with a flashlight because it was better than the night terrors. My intrusive thoughts sometimes got the best of me and they manifested in OCD tendencies and perfectionism. I pushed myself hard and was always in competition with someone (self-imposed) to keep myself at my best. I worried about literally everything. I worried about worry.

At the age of 11 another life-altering event happened. My Omi (German grandma) was visiting and staying with us. My brother was 2 at the time and napping in his room and I was helping my Omi with laundry while watching a show. She said she wasn’t feeling well, but didn’t want my mom to worry, said she would be fine. My mom left and went to work. My Omi went in her room to put away her clothes. When the show ended, I realized she still wasn’t back, and I went to check on her. That’s when I found her. She was on her floor in her bedroom. I panicked. I called my other grandma hysterically; I ran to my neighbors who called 911. But it was already too late. The fire department and ambulance seemed to take forever to get there, they wouldn’t let me go inside. My neighbor waited with me outside of my house. That day changed a lot for me. I lost a lot. And I realized that I would never be enough. When my Opi died, I drew the conclusion that bad things happened when I wasn’t there, so I was always there for people. But my Omi still died. I didn’t pay enough attention, I wasn’t fast enough, I didn’t respond well. The inner critic was right, that relative was right. I would never be good enough.

That didn’t stop me from trying harder though. I was in all honors classes. I took 7 periods most of my high school years. I was involved in extra-curricular activities and volunteered. If anyone needed anything, I was there. I was a people-pleaser. Very good givers attract the best takers, and I was okay with that. At least they thought I had something to give.  

High school was also the time I developed my truly unhealthy relationship with food. Growing up I was placed on a lot of diets. I think it was common then for moms to always be dieting because I remember all my friend’s moms always being on some sort of new diet-fad as well. But I decided that I could just not eat. So, I didn’t. For a long time. I lived on water and gum. Everyone thought I looked great; they complimented how disciplined I was (although they had no idea, I was not eating at all). I started to not feel my best, I was tired and light-headed a lot, I would get dizzy spells and just drink more water. My mom was doing my hair for a baby shower when I passed out and smashed head-first into the bathroom mirror. Thankfully, I wasn’t hurt. My parents had no idea what was going on. My dad got really upset and learning to eat again wasn’t easy. Yet again, I wasn’t enough. What I learned through this though was that, while I can’t control others and what happens, I can control what and how much I eat. I needed control of something, so this became my thing.

After high school I worked full-time, went to school full-time and tutored on the side. I always kept myself extremely busy; when I am busy, I don’t have time to think. I had learned how to “manage” my anxiety (which I still didn’t know I had) by distracting myself. Sure, there were days I wish that everything would just go away, or that life would end, but distraction was a good tool to keep my mind occupied.

Around this time someone very close to me tried to commit suicide as well. To say this was a shock is an understatement. Looking back, I see how alone this person felt and how the idea of not needing to be “in it all” anymore was appealing. I am so glad God had different plans though!

  In my early 20’s I met my husband and we had our son. We were relatively young parents and we didn’t have a lot, but we tried our best to do our best. My husband and I had to learn (over the years) how to break habits we didn’t even know we had. We had to learn how to communicate effectively and not recreate our families of origin. We struggled a lot, for quite some time. But we never gave up. When my son was 4, he and I were driving home and were hit by an intoxicated driver that was high and drunk. We had minimal physical wounds (praise God) but we both suffered extremely mentally and emotionally. My son ended up with a PTSD diagnosis, and this was what spiraled my anxiety. The accident allowed me to go back to school though and obtain my masters, and during that program I had my first public panic attack. It took therapy, medication, and a medical diagnosis to finally find reprieve. I had to battle a lot of negative thoughts, core beliefs and faulty thinking; I had to replace my distortions with healthy coping mechanisms and begin to see that not everything is my job. Therapy pushed me, a lot. Therapy taught me, a lot. Therapy helped save me.

I still struggle sometimes; I think we always will to some extent. This world is fallen and broken, and we desire perfection in an imperfect place. But now I have the tools to help me. I learned how to set healthy boundaries and let go of toxic people and relationships, or to minimize my exposure to ones I can’t end. I learned how to shift my focus and keep my eyes on Jesus; how to have grace, not only with others, but with myself. I learned how to advocate for myself and my needs, whether medically or relationally. I know now that when others project onto me, I do not have to accept it, and I can still pray for them and love them. I learned that my anxiety and panic lives with me. My body is its house and sometimes I forget it lives there, but other times I still struggle with sharing space. I learned that wellness is complex too, but it is SO worth investing in and fighting for. I learned that I can’t be enough, but I don’t have to be enough. I give myself permission to be fully me, and I will always do my best to love big and be there for others because that is who I am to my core, but I will no longer be a people-pleaser or welcome mat. I learned that we all have beliefs and ideas, we all have opinions and its okay to be different (even when others don’t want you to be). I learned that this world is perfectly imperfect and that I can lean into that because, so am I. I will never fit into someone else’s box, I will never be someone else’s ideal, I will never be anything but who I am. I can learn. I can grow. I can become a better version of myself, but I will never be perfect, and I have learned to be okay with that. Progress is greater than perfection.

This is a very condensed version of my story. There are specific details I left out and diagnoses that are not mine to share. I have walked through a lot in my life, and yet I know others have walked through more. The things I chose to leave out I did because I do not want to hurt others in sharing my story. I know we all have a version that is true to us. This is my story. It includes pain and illness, but more than that it includes hope and wellness. I may not have always known what I was up against, but if my story shows you anything, I hope it shows you how strong we are. How we learn to cope and adapt. How we can still unlearn negative behaviors and learn positive ones. I hope that my story shows you that we are all connected to each other. Pain and suffering are not discriminatory, they will choose anyone, at any time. But when I reflect back on all of this what I see most prevalent, is the purpose to my pain. My pain catapulted me into my purpose. It showed me that regardless of what we face in life we have choices. It showed me my own strength and ability to rise. It showed me that love always wins and that I have a heart that desires to make a difference.

My story matters.

YOUR story matters.

One day, when you are ready, you can tell your story too. I hope in doing so you can reflect on your story and see your strength and determination. Your heart and soul. That you can see you were worth investing in and fighting for all along. Our stories matter. Our voices matter. Your life matters, and you are never alone.

A Day in the Life of Anxiety: My Personal Experience, part 2.

I am fine.

Walking through the weeks as though they are days, I find myself battling to keep up. The time goes by without any remembrance of what has come or what has gone, and I pass through life as though it were a time-lapse video, the scenery changes but I remain the same.

Discouraged to the point that I feel as though nothing will ever change, this new me, the one I so despise, this is the real me; it has been all along. The smiles and the laughs continue, no one even notices or bothers to ask. I hide my pain so well, and then blame those around me for not taking the time to help me pick up the shattered remnants of what I once was.

You look at me and simply see a woman; one who appears so very well put together. You see the accomplishments and the triumphs…you see the friends that surround me and the ability to carry myself in a manner that would make others want to be like me based on the vibrancy I put out into the world.

Inside I am dying.

My heart is racing, my mind is pacing-it never slows down. My thoughts overwhelm me, and I wonder if I will drown In my sea of doubts, fears and distortions.

Insomnia ridden, sleep eludes me.

But I push on. I tell myself that I have made it this far, so I push harder. If no one has noticed yet, they never will. I continue through the winding road called life, knowing that there will be turns and bumps that will knock me down. But, I don’t focus on that. My motions appear robotic to me, but at least I keep moving. If I acknowledge this turmoil it becomes real, and real is not something I can handle.

I am the woman you see every day, never questioning my emotional state or mental process, you just assume that I am fine (after all, its what I have led you to believe). Those three words, they often lead to death. When I tell you, “I am fine,” I am anything but fine. I am to the point that death; physical, mental, emotional…they all seem more appealing than this hell that I am living.

People say, “Just pray harder…” “take a cold shower…” “its all in your mind.” Do you think, just for a moment, that if there would be a way to change the way I am feeling in this moment, that I would have done it already?

I am a prisoner of my own mind. The coherent me is held captive by these destructive thoughts that wash over me like a raging river with no intention of keeping me above the water. I am struggling to find a way out, but the shore is not in sight and the current is too strong. I have tried grasping the branches, I have tried swimming to the side, the only thing left to do is wait it out and pray for calmer waters ahead. Nothing could ever prepare you to deal with this, unless you have gone through it already. It feels like there is no way out when you are in the midst of it, so you just have to let it be.

I do not need you to save me, if you attempted to rescue me, you would just get pulled into chaos that you cannot understand. What I need is someone to be there, for someone to say, “this is just a nightmare and it will be over soon” Please do not tell me what to do, or what to try, or, “I know how hard this is for you.” Do you really? Have you gone through hell and back? Have you thought, every single day for as long as you can remember that TODAY is the day you will die? Not wanting to celebrate the good because something bad will inevitably happen. Paying attention to every hospital just in case…

Have you wished you were dead, and at the same time feared you were dying?

The next time you tell someone, “its all in your head,” remember this, one day it could be in yours too. Mental illness does not discriminate. It is not picky and it can choose you. The next time you say to someone, “you are not depressed, you are just sad. Stop focusing on the negative all the time,” or, “you just freak yourself out, you think too much. It isn’t that bad. Maybe you just need to stop being so stressed, that’s what is causing all of your anxiety.” I want you to go look in the mirror and I want you to say to yourself, “thank you Lord that I do not struggle with these silent killers. Thank you for my health; physical, mental and emotional. And please Lord, help me to keep my mouth shut when I do not know what I am talking about.”

When you struggle with mental illness, every SINGLE DAY can be a battle. Anxiety, Panic Disorder, OCD, Depression… did you know they often occur together? Imagine THAT, not just one, but all coming to get you at the same time. Engulfed by despair and hopelessness that nothing will ever change, panic ridden over intrusive thoughts that are not conducive to life, and filled with anxiety for fear of the future, you battle hard just to keep your head above the water.

You keep saying, “I am fine, I am fine, I am fine…” but really, you are slowly drowning in a sea of people that keep telling you useless things to “snap you out of it.” You are shouting in your head, “It won’t work… I have tried that before… it only makes it worse…” But they keep saying the same things over and over again. THIS is mental illness, this is something you cannot fully understand unless you have walked a day in these shoes.

So the next time I say, “I am fine,” please think about what that could really mean, not just for me, but for the response you may have toward me. The only stigma that exists is the one we allow to circulate, I am not in need of saving, just understanding. And even if you don’t understand, it is nice to have someone to sit with through the storm.

I am battling hard, I struggle every day. Please do not judge a book by its cover, a smile hides SO many things. But smiling is so much easier than admitting the truth.

If you have gone through this, talk to someone. There are others who have gone through it too. Reach out, do not let one more day pass where you are engulfed. For what its worth, you can keep treading water. You can keep your head up, even if barely above the surface, and while you don’t need to be saved, there are people who have life preservers to throw to you; lifelines that will allow you to get back in the boat and find new ways to cope. Your life matters, your story matters and there are people who will understand.

I know I do.

*special note:

Everyone experiences mental illness differently. When I was in the pit of despair I wrote this way often, writing helped get it out of my head and I found calm. I also talked to someone. I went to therapy and I processed what was going on. I learned about my triggers, and I learned about how certain things are connected. I learned tools and techniques to manage my anxiety. There are days that are still hard, things that happen and my natural response is panic. But in those moments I have learned that I AM in control. I have learned how to take my life back, and I believe that you can too.

A Day in the Life of Anxiety: my personal experience.

Anxiety tells us:

We need to be perfect.

((but perfect is an illusion))

Get EVERYTHING done NOW.

Worry about the future.

Worry about death.

Worry about worry.

Try NOT to FOCUS on WORRY!

Worry some more.

You are not good enough...

You will NEVER be good enough :(

Time to go to bed...

A million thoughts... (Dang I forgot I needed to do that, Tomorrow I need to do..., I know that person doesn't like me. How can I make a difference in the world?)

Its 2 am already, now Ill only get 3 hours of sleep.

GO TO SLEEP.

***Heart racing, sweating, sit up, TRY to breath, dizzy, nervous, scared, tell yourself “youre okay,” overwhelmed,”

CANT ESCAPE

(alarm clock goes off)

Time to get up

SO tired

Must stay awake

DON’T drink coffee!!!

FOCUS

why cant you focus?

gosh, you're such a loser!

Why cant you just STOP this?

*person says “You just need to stop worrying so much.”

If only they knew :(

Today I have to (go to work, go to school, take 3 tests, finish 10 papers, repair relationships, SAVE the WORLD)

There is NO WAY I can do all of that.

***stress, anger, emotions, RETREAT, -breathe-, refocus, GO!, thoughts racing, a million ideas, slow down, need rest...

Have some “down time”

feel guilty about down time

Fill down time with SOMETHING

Frustrated that there is NEVER down time

Still have to (shower, read, call.., study.................)

Time for bed

WIDE AWAKE

The IRONY

((repeat))

I didn't always have this struggle. This deafening sound of defeat everywhere I go. Mine began, or had its onset, after a near death car accident. Suddenly I’m catapulted into the reality that death is lurking, time is fleeting, and everything has to get done NOW! The anxiety became part of my daily life. First I modified habits, checked in more with people, became ‘extra’ cautious, vowed to LOVE EVERY MINUTE. It didn't seem bad at FIRST, in fact, this new me seemed to appreciate life more, to understand reality better. But then the panic hit me. Like a ton of bricks, right in the face, at the most awkward time, and I literally thought I was dying. Not everyone thinks they are dying, but being confronted with death can do that to you.

Anxiety LIES to you! It starts out innocent enough and before you know it, it steals your sleep, changes your appetite, decreases your functioning, destroys your thoughts, and KILLS your joy. It is your ENEMY in so many ways. Suddenly you find yourself tired, fatigued, emotional, nervous; you have less desire to do things and you BEGIN to realize there MIGHT be a problem. But then anxiety lies AGAIN. It tells you that nothing will ever change, you will never get better, you're not strong enough, not good enough, and you don’t deserve it. And IF anxiety brings its evil stepsister, depression, then lack of motivation and hopelessness sets in and you begin to BELIEVE the lies. You begin to feel helpless. Your thoughts often overtake you, focusing becomes difficult, and you may begin to experience physical symptoms. Headaches, dizziness, heart racing or skipping beats, chest pain; a sense of overwhelming floods you and in that moment fear overtakes you. Its like being in a tunnel and all you see is a dim light that looks far away, but the blanket of darkness is closing in and it would be so much easier to give into the darkness than fight for the light. FIGHT ANYWAY.

There’s a small glimpse of the you that existed BEFORE the anxiety. It tells you to fight for the light. You have SOME control of your thoughts and you remind yourself that life wasn't ALWAYS this way. BUT its SO hard. A million things are vying for your attention and with all the noise in your head its hard to listen to the voice of reason, that is but a distant faint whisper. Anxiety tells you to worry. It tells you to question everything, including your own life and happiness. Anxiety wants you to work for perfection but reminds you that you will NEVER attain it, and then makes you feel GUILTY for your inabilities. Anxiety wants to fill all of your time, any moment you have; to keep you exhausted so it can keep you captive. Anxiety rules over every part of your life IF we allow it to. It changes us from the depths of our core, until all that remains are the shattered remnants of a person that once was.

A day in the life of anxiety is like a constant whirlwind of emotions; tumultuous, exhausting, maddening; a darkness that encompasses your very being.

A day in the life of anxiety is the constant struggle of hearing a world shouting so loud for you to be NORMAL, and the disillusion that you are everything BUT “normal.”

A day in the life of anxiety is like an ENDLESS cycle, you want so desperately to manage it, yet all anxiety allows you to focus on is your lack of control.

A day in the life of anxiety is exhausting, emotionally draining, and physically demanding. There often appears to be no end in sight, and your distorted thoughts confirm this.

NEVER enough.

NO control.

HAS to be perfect...wont EVER be perfect.

A day in the life of anxiety is one day too many to be lost in the broken pieces of a future masterpiece. Like the beginning of a mosaic, anxiety presents as shards of glass with no vision for a future work of art. But, with clarity, prayer, and professional guidance, you can STILL be a beautiful masterpiece--- we simply have to learn how to arrange the glass, and no longer be wounded by the lies and deception.

A day in the life of anxiety is so common for so many people, and yet we all think we are alone, because once again, anxiety isolates. We can stand united. You are not alone, your struggle is real, and its not SIMPLY WORRY. Anxiety can help you understand yourself better if you let it. One step at a time in the right direction, and it becomes clear that anxiety is often a NATURAL response to trauma or fear. Our fight or flight response might be stuck in hyper-vigilant mode, but there is help. Do not be fooled into believing that you are weak, abnormal, or broken. We ALL have struggles.

A day in the life of anxiety is simply a day that needs to be changed. Change can happen as long as you are ready and willing to fight.

A day in the life of anxiety can be a day of your past that strengthened the future you... The choice is yours to make...

Darkness or Light

Fear or Victory

Broken or Whole

Surrender or FIGHT.