Posted in anxiety, Blogging, Depression, family, inner peace, Life, Mental Health, mental illness, mindfulness, Musings, People, women


*** Warning: This is not as happy as most of my recent posts. Teensy bit of a bummer***

I went on to have a bad day yesterday…after the beautiful weekend, after the peace and happiness I held in my heart and in my body as I wrote my post yesterday.

Work was…the same as it always is. The same, same, same. I began to wonder if maybe, reading chart after chart of sick and injured patients- if maybe I took on some of that. Some of the emotion- the fear, the worry, the sadness- that I read day in and day out. I have said before, I am very impressionable. My body grew tighter and more tense as the day went on.

By 2:30, the anxiety had started to blossom in my chest. I tried to resist it, but that never works. I tried to sit with it, to reason with it, to ignore it. Nothing. Nothing worked. The terrible thoughts began to bombard my mind- car wrecks and kidnappings and all of the ideas that plague me when my children aren’t within arms reach. My mind becomes a bitter enemy.

And now I am starting to see what comes after the anxiety rushes out- after the child is home, safe and sound, leaving this giant space inside of me where all that worry had been. After the relief of her arrival-that brief, sweet, space- has also fled. I am left with this…this awfulness. This feeling that my mind has done it, once again, splintered away from reason, led me down this dark path. And then I am angry. I am angry with myself, but it comes out in other ways. Impatience with homework, intolerance, temper. The anxiety leaves me with another mess. I am finally seeing it.

This morning, I am once again left with the task of forgiving myself. Of loving myself despite my defects. Telling myself that healing is not a straight path- there are dips and bends, and times when the road doubles back on itself. The times when I am angry and lost are so brief now, but they seem to bother me so much more. And you know…no one went to bed with hurt feelings last night. Cam crept into my room and slept beside me while I was sleeping. It wasn’t that bad. But I want it to be better. I always wish it were better.

I crave quiet this morning. I turned the radio off in the car, let the sound of the rain fill my ears, the low hum of the car. Even now, I hear nothing but the rain outside, and it is all I want. I don’t want to scroll through Facebook, or hear anymore of the godforsaken news of this fucked up world. I have enough on my plate right here. Right inside these walls. I am on my guard, of course, praying the anxiety does not return today. It gets old. It gets old not feeling safe in your own life, knowing it’s all just a lie your brain is making up. It gets old not knowing what to do to fix it.

So today, I’m just going to be quiet. I’m just going to breathe. And try to figure out how to clear this hurdle.


I'm a single mom living life fully after years of intense addiction, trying to navigate life with grace-and failing spectacularly, sometimes. Learning to be a grown up In my 40's, without losing my lust for life, or my faith in humanity. Come, watch the antics. It should be fun (for you, at least).

10 thoughts on “Quiet

  1. Your honest and bravery are inspiring. And it must be hard to feel like you aren’t in control of the triggers for these feelings. As I’ve hit middle age, I realize hormones, gluten, wine–a weird mix of bits–can impact my moods, anxiety, etc. Surrender and plunging forward work, but they’re not always easy–I admire you for keeping on.

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    1. Thank you! I wish I could just make myself promise not to suffer from fear with no proof of something to fear…but it’s not really within my control. And I feel like “not in my control” is really the problem, what it all boils down to. I fear the things I feel are not within my control. Although logically I do realize that most things are not controllable, subconsciously it’s another matter. 😂 God, my brain is such a problem.

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  2. I just read Denise Linn’s book on Energetic Cords, about how we pick up everybody’s crap and nervousness and tension and bad attitude and then it can make us ill or confuse us as to what is ours and what is not. As a body empath myself, I really recommend it. I am almost reluctant to say that I do a paid service of candle burning that seems to remove cooties etc. and helps people get clear of the bad energy of others–some love it, but I am not trying to roam around online hitting on possible clients! I do think the book is worth looking at though–it is very comprehensive. Some things she recommends are cold showers, at least at the end of the shower, and to scrub with salt, and to hug trees and rest against them and the earth to let the negative energy get grounded and recycled, as well as the usual burning sage and ringing bells and all Good luck with it.

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    1. How funny, I felt an intense urge to save my house this morning! Maybe I should. I’m intensely empathic, and it’s rough. I don’t have any control over it at all. I don’t talk about it much because people look at you like you’re one brick short of a load, but it’s real.

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      1. It really is real. I found the book to have a lot of helpful tips, and it seems like any kind of figuring out what is yours and what is not yours is helpful. I perceive my body as sort of like georgraphy, and weather–other people’s stuff–passes through. Usually I get their physical pain, and used to have the ability to help them clear it out too, before I got electrocuetd and got more actual scar tissue in my body. The ability seems to be back again to a degree, but that’s why I am glad I can get good results with candles and not have to do every scrap of helping others out of my own efforts the way I used to. The candles actually physically sometimes have a meltdown, like one today for a client, and that always means that the client is having one too.

        Being empathic can mean that you are really helpful in your job, but it can be very painful and stressful.

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