Anxiety Comes

{four weeks ago}

When I feel it coming on, I brace for it. If you have ever been in a car accident, you know the brace I am talking about. My muscles tighten so fiercely, my bones ache. My brain scrambles for the coping strategies we are familiar with.

“Slow down. Breathe. Nita, Breathe. Slowly, you can get a hang of this one”. Heart racing. “Breathe. You got this”.

Most of the time, I am able to lean into it until it passes. Usually, I get through it with a modicum of control. Sometimes, control is lost in the wave of heat, pain, and illogical panic. Sometimes, the deafening, paralyzing sensations get a hold of me, and I succumb to its wrath.

In our bedroom, I was folding laundry, and Tim was packing. His work was keeping him super commuting between Boise, and Seattle. Seattle, my home, my comfort. Here in Boise, I feel like a foreigner. The kids and I are settling into this new (beautiful) life largely alone, and apart from Tim. Making friends isn’t easy in my thirties.

My mind starts racing. School, laundry, the dogs, sports, housekeeping, dinner, breakfast. No friends, all alone. My only adult connection is packing. He is packing. Oh God, he is packing and leaving me here. With all this. This laundry never ends.

Heart racing. “Keep it together, girl”, but no one hears me, not even myself. My body is rebelling against my urges to control the anxiety.

I drop the shirt I was folding. Suddenly I’m on the floor in a puddle of panic. It’s hot. Control is lost, I cry, yell at my sweet husband, who is not equipped for these moments. I’m rubbing my foot on the floor, as if the stroking will calm the pain.

10 minutes pass.

He holds me. I weep.

Then he continues to pack.