Tag: stress

  • Anxiety Is More Than Just Worrying

    Anxiety is more than just worrying.

    Anxiety is the restless nights of sleep, as you toss and turn. It’s your brain never being able to shut off. It’s the thoughts you over-think before bedtime and all of your worst fears become a reality in dreams and nightmares.

    It’s waking up tired even though your day just started.

    Anxiety is learning how to function with sleep deprivation because it took you until 2 am to shut your eyes.

    It’s every text you wonder ‘how do I word this properly?’ It’s a double or triple text in case you messed up. Anxiety is answering texts embarrassingly fast.

    Anxiety is the time you spend waiting for an answer as a scenario plays out in your mind of what they could be thinking or are they mad?

    Anxiety is an unanswered text that kills you inside even though you tell yourself, ‘maybe they’re busy or will answer later.’ Anxiety is that critical voice that says ‘maybe they’re deliberately ignoring you.’ It’s believing every negative scenario you can come up with.

    Anxiety is waiting. It always feels like you’re waiting. It’s the inaccurate conclusions drawn as your mind takes off and you have no choice but to follow it’s destructive lead.

    Anxiety is apologizing for things that don’t even require the words, ‘I’m sorry.’

    Anxiety is self-doubt and a lack of confidence both in you, yourself and those around you. Anxiety is being hyper aware of everyone and everything. So much so, you can tell if there’s a shift in someone merely by their tone or word choice.

    Anxiety is ruining relationships before they even begin. It tells you, ‘you’re wrong, they don’t like you, they’re going to leave.’ Then you jump to conclusions.

    Anxiety is a constant state of worrying and panicking and being on the edge. It’s irrational fears. It’s thinking too much, it’s caring too much. Because the root of people with anxiety is caring.

    It’s sweaty palms and a racing heart. But on the outside, no one can see it. You appear calm and at ease and smiling but underneath is anything but that. Anxiety is the art of deception for people who don’t know you. And for the people who do, it’s a constant stream of phrases like, ‘don’t worry’ or ‘you’re overthinking this’ or ‘relax.’ It’s friends listening to these conclusions you’ve drawn and not really understanding how you got there. But they’re there trying to support you, as things go from bad to worse in your mind.

    Anxiety is wanting to fix something that isn’t even a problem.

    It’s the stream of questions that make you doubt yourself.

    Did I lock the door before I left?’

    Did I turn off the stove?

    Is the straightener still on?

    It’s turning back around just to double check.

    Anxiety is the uneasiness at a party because you think all eyes are on you and no one wants you there. Anxiety is that extra shot you take and it seems like you’re finally relaxing. Until you wake up the next day hungover, full of regret and wondering what you said to whom and do you owe them an apology?

    Anxiety is the overcompensating and trying too hard to please people.

    Anxiety is being everywhere on time because the thought of being late would put you over the edge.

    Anxiety is the fear of failure and striving for perfection. Then beating yourself up when you fall short. It’s always needing a schedule or a plan.

    Anxiety is that voice inside your head that’s saying ‘you’ll fail.’

    It’s trying to exceed people’s expectations even if you’re killing yourself to do so. Anxiety is taking on more than you can handle just so you are distracted and not overthinking something.

    Anxiety is procrastination because you’re paralyzed with fear of failing so you hold it off.

    It’s the triggers that set you off.

    It’s breaking down in private and crying when you’re overwhelmed but no one will ever see that side of you. Anxiety is picking up and trying again because the only thing worse than overcoming other people is overcoming you and your own demons.

    It’s beating that critical voice that says, ‘you really fucked up.’ or ‘you should feel awful right now.’

    Anxiety is the want and the need to control things because it feels like this thing in your life is outside of your control and you have to learn to live with it.

    But more than anything anxiety is caring. It’s never wanting to hurt someone’s feelings. It’s never wanting to do something wrong. More than anything, it’s the want and need to simply be accepted and liked. So you try too hard sometimes.

    And when you come across friends who begin to understand, they help you through it.

    Then you realize this might be a battle you face every day but it’s one you won’t have to face alone.

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/gninworDllitSmI/

     

  • No one tells you about days like today

    Today I cried.

    I cried hard.

    I sat at top of the staircase, covered my face, & cried.

    When he saw me start to come down the stairs, The Toddler ran behind the recliner to hide.

    He knew he wasn’t allowed to have the cereal but there it was spilled all over the kitchen counter I had just finished scrubbing.

    He was hiding from me, afraid I would start yelling again.

    I wanted to. I would have.

    But instead I cried.

    He watched me for a moment; confusion turning into concern.

    “Oh Mom,” he said, “please don’t cry.”

    But I just sat there. Exhausted, defeated, & broken.

    He brought me his ball & his racecar.

    He did a silly dance & made a funny face.

    He touched my face & put his tiny arms around my shoulders.

    “Please Mom. Don’t cry.”

    Today was a bad day.

    He wants candy for breakfast.

    I want to go back to sleep.

    He wants Team Umizoomi NOT Bubble Guppies.

    I want to turn the TV off & go back to bed.

    He doesn’t want to take a shower.

    I want to take a shower by myself.

    Instead, I shower with my hands over my ears with the Toddler sitting at my feet. The shower walls amplify his defiant screams & shatter my eardrums.

    He wants to get out of the house.

    I want to go to bed.

    He wants a tennis ball from the grocery store.

    I want a bottle of wine.

    Wait now he wants the football?? He screams it loud enough for the entire store to hear.

    I want to leave him in the parking lot.

    The entire day goes on like this. Fight after fight. Argument after argument.

    Despite it all, today, I am trying.

    I reach out to a friend & tell her how I’m feeling.

    I keep my voice level & calm. I talk to the Toddler & listen & try to understand. I give so many hugs & dozens of kisses.

    I turn off the screens & turn on music.

    I dance around & play on the floor & read books.

    But no matter how hard I try & no matter what I do or say or act, it doesn’t stop.

    Today, I tried. I really, really tried.

    Everything I thought I knew about parenting was exhausted & useless.

    Today, I failed.

    Today I screamed & cussed & threw things.

    Today I popped my kid on the mouth more than once & I put him in timeout.

    Today I lashed out at my husband & resented the peaceful relationship he has with our son.

    Today, I was mean. I was unkind. I was impatient.

    Today, I lost.

    I lost the fight with my son. I lost the fight with my husband.

    I lost the fight with myself.

    Today, I don’t think I can do this anymore.

    Today, I don’t want this life.

    So yeah, today I cried.

    No one tells you about this part.

    No one tells you about the anger & the sadness & the isolation & the disdain.

    No one tells you that motherhood brings out an unrecognizable version of yourself who you hate & resent.

    No one tells you about days like today.

    But as I sat on the staircase weeping at the terrible thoughts rattling through my head, that little boy didn’t leave my side.

    He had spent the entire day watching me morph into a terrible, ugly monster, just as I’d watched him become one as well.

    But at the end of the day, when our scary monster masks melt away, I am still his Mama & he is still my child.

    Today, I am his mother & tomorrow will be the same.

    So tomorrow, I will keep trying.

    & you should too.

    Keep trying, Mama. Keep going.

    Today was hard. Tomorrow might be too. That’s okay.

    Some days won’t have a happy ending. Some days there are no resolutions.

    You just have to go to bed & wake up ready to try again.

    We can do this, Mamas. We can do this.

    Credit

    https://www.facebook.com/New-Moms-Connect-283292652500838/

  • I Quit Being A Carer To Work In KFC And Its So Much Better

    Eighteen long years I have worked in care, I gained many many qualifications, spent hours training to be the best I could possibly be in my sector.

    I would wash and dress the elderly, I would sit with them and brush their hair, paint their nails and listen to all the stories from their past, I genuinely cared about every single person I was employed to look after.

    Many a times I held the hand of someone I had loved as they took their last breath, I sang to them, stroked their hair and sobbed when they passed on, I attended their funeral and stood with “family” members who never or rarely visited their mum/dad as they cried their crocodile tears, with only the thought of their will in their minds.

    I cleaned out their room as management arranged for the next “body” to move in, the next pay cheque.

    I dished up the Tesco value food on to their plate, and watched the owner drive home early in their brand new car, I brought in shampoo and soap for the lady who had nothing.

    Working in care broke me, whilst I loved the people I cared for, I constantly felt I was being rushed by seniors or management, I was given names of residents to get up, whether they were sleeping or not, I wasn’t allowed to spend quality time talking to them, or making them feel loved, it was all about getting people up and dressed as quick as possible.

    Compassion was missing, Love was lacking, from the people earning the most out of these wonderful people’s lives.

    Every day I would go home wondering if someone would be ok, would they still be alive by my next shift, I received a disciplinary for taking too long to bathe someone and when I was told to hurry up “I had spoken rudely to a senior”, that was the last straw for me, how can you bathe a 87-year-old woman in 5 minutes, that’s not a bath, that’s cruel!

    I quit!!! I can’t do it!!!

    I got a job in KFC actually earn more money (not that you get into care for the cash) I am less stressed, my day offs I don’t think about the chickens, I still think about the people I cared for but I had to think about me, something needs to change in care homes and put the residents needs and wants first, management shouldn’t see them as a cash flow, I understand they need to make money but not so much that the elderly are suffering. The care sector needs to wake up and realise they are pushing good people out of the industry!

  • I Think It Is Hard To Love A Care Worker

    I think it is hard to love a care worker. We get up early, we come home late and are too tired to cook. We miss weekend events, holidays, birthdays. We don’t get too excited over a minor cough or cold, we have seen far worse.

    We don’t always want to talk when we come home, we have talked all day. We don’t always want to move when we come home, we have moved all day. It may seem that we have left all of our caring, our heart, and our love at work, and have come home to you empty, we probably have.

    I guess it is hard to love a care worker, but know this: we still need your love. We need your understanding. We need to know that you “get it”. We need to be the one taken care of every once in a while. We need someone else to take charge of the details because constantly doing everything ourselves is exhausting. Sometimes we need our feet rubbed. We need a shoulder to cry on when we can’t even tell you why we’re grieving. We need you to do the hardest work you may ever take on, which is…to love a care worker.

    I would like to thank those of you out there who love them and let us do this work, this calling, this life: care work ❤️❤️❤️

  • How Dare You Complain About Being A Stay At Home Mum

    Stay at home mum (SAHM) depression….

    The elephant in the room nobody talks about

    I mean, how DARE you complain after being gifted this opportunity to stay at home and raise YOUR own kids but it’s not that simple. Of course we SAHM’s are being grateful to stay home and raise our young BUT that it’s literally all we become.

    No one talks about the isolation.

    No one talks about the loss of identity.

    No one talks about the loneliness.

    No one talks about losing your sense of self.

    No one talks about how you had to give up your career because it’s cheaper for you to stay home.

    No one talks about how you cry in the shower because your day was overwhelming.

    No one understands why you’re tired.

    No one understands why you’re irritable.

    No one understands why you need a mental break.

    No one understands why you’re so aggravated with your kids.

    No one understands why after you’ve been home all day, the house is a wreck still.

    No one understands why you just need 5 minutes with no one speaking to or touching you.

    No one understands why you’ve lost your sex drive.

    No one understands why you’re completely & utterly exhausted, after all, you just sit at home all day

    No one understands the feeling you have when you are told you don’t have a “real job”.

    Most of us were working women at one point. We got to go to a job and interact with other adults outside our home. We contributed financially to our household. (Shoot, most of us want some kind of side hustle or part time job because it would sure help with financial relief) We didn’t feel like an endless maid. We got that break away (even though yes, work is a love/ hate relationship) that gives you space from the people you live with (children, spouse… Etc) because yes, EVERY relationship needs time away in it to not go crazy being around each other 24/7. That’s not healthy. Contrary to popular belief…

    YOU NEED A BREAK  DAILY

    I can’t tell you how many women I meet or know that say “oh, you have to much time on your hands” “I sure wish I could stay home, I wouldn’t complain” good for you! I can guarantee you will change your mind 6 months in, unless you’re wealthy and have money to constantly go do things. I once was you. I wished upon a star I could stay home with my kids because I wanted to spend all the time I could. I didn’t realize what all came with being a SAHM.

    Oh but YOU chose to have those kids. YOU should’ve thought about that before having them. If you didn’t want to go through all this YOU should’ve never had kids. & YOU said you want more????

    Seriously…. Yup, heard those all before.

    Next time you hear or see a SAHM venting her frustrations, listen and make her feel like she’s somebody. That her struggles are not invalid. You know just because she don’t have a “real job”.

    Submitted by Sarah Castleford

  • Have You Heard Of Post-Partum Anxiety

    I saw a doctor a few months back.

    I have a hard time looking people in the eyes, I talk too fast, I think I give myself away. I pretend its okay, but I’m drowning. Has that ever happened to you?

    I saw my doctor for Post-Partum Anxiety.

    I mourn things in my mind, before they ever even go. It’s crazy, I know, so I try to talk myself out of it and remind myself that we are still alive.

    But, most days, I’m scared. To even go to the local supermarket. Everything has a new meaning now- is the person in front of me distracted or drunk? Will today be the last time I see her? Last time I strap her into her car seat?

    But the thing is, you never know the last time is the last time, until it’s over.

    So, I memorize like a mad woman. The way everything looks giant in her hands or the way her pigtails and teeth are lopsided. Just in case.

    It seems unbearable this intense love I have for her, and what would happen if I lost her? Or him? I hear a story of a mother loosing her child, and I get sick. For days. And then I’m all screwed up in my head again.

    It’s like a sick joke; going through life so naive, but not knowing it until you know it. You know? Its violating. Not realizing the fragility or pricelessness of a beating heart, until its outside of you.

    Like that time I walked through a spider’s web and just kept skipping along. It wasn’t until I was back in the house that I realized I had been carrying the biggest spider I’d ever seen, right there on my shoulder. Something about that’s always stuck How you can think its one way, but really you haven’t got a clue. Like giving birth- nothing could’ve prepared me to know what I was going to know when I watched her take her very first breath.

    Once you’ve carried life, you somehow understand its counterpart -death- so very intimately.

    Post-Partum Anxiety.

    I don’t, I won’t, I can’t think it’s too ugly.

  • Mental Illness Affects My Relationships

    I suffer from depression and anxiety. My anxiety is usually spurred on by a ‘dark’ mood. Let me start by saying, I don’t have suicidal thoughts, I never have & I hopefully never will. My depression takes me to other places. Simple things like relationships and friendships become so trivial, so complicated.

    In my brain it doesn’t sit right, something seems different. I notice little differences that ‘normal’ people wouldn’t notice.

    That comment you didn’t tag me in, but you tagged other people? I saw that, why didn’t you tag me? What’s up with me?

    You read that message, I saw you did, but you didn’t reply.. why didn’t you reply? Have I done something to upset you?

    You didn’t say I love you on the phone.. do you not love me anymore? Do you love someone else instead?

    They just made a comment about me. Was it a joke? Was I supposed to laugh? Or do they mean it? Are they being nice? Are they talking about me? Do they talk about me? I bet they hate me.

    Am I doing this right? Is this what a mum should do? What if this is wrong. Oh god. What if someone reports me. What if they take my kids. Should I hide? Should I leave. I’m a bad mum. I can’t do this.

    Am I good enough? Should I just run away and hide?

    And for all those questions I will spend hours trying to answer. Let it all build up in my mind, until it sends me to tears…… it’s mental that isn’t it. That I see things that way. Some call it psycho but what it really is.. is a mental illness.

    It’s not only mental changes, but physical changes. I eat a lot, mainly rubbish, because I need it now and I need the energy from lack of sleep. Insomnia, up all night answering questions to situations that don’t even exists.

    I know when I start to feel this way or think this way, I need help.

    I know that when my behaviour starts to change, I need guidance.

    And I understand that I don’t need to be ashamed. I don’t need to be understood. I just need to be accepted. Everyone is fighting a battle and sometimes you need to be kinder.

    Don’t suffer in silence.