I found myself earlier reflecting on yesterday - was it a bad day, or was it a good day? I don't usually label my days as bad or good, to be clear, but yesterday wasn't a regular day.
The short of it: I had an anxiety attack, in the rain, in downtown London, on the way to an event with my partner who had yet to witness an attack. The works - tears, hyperventilation, nervous energy and jitters.
But to truly elaborate the perspective bit, there is a longer story to it. I think it's important to add context, to shape why it was a matter of a bad day vs good day. So here we go.
The past few months have been stressful and hectic. I loved it. I thrived in the chaos, at least at work. As soon as I would get home, however, I crashed. It wasn't good for me. It wasn't good for my partner. And it wasn't good for our pets either. I was starting to struggle, pouring all my energy into work and the future and failing to tend to myself in the now. That was red flag number 1.
I wasn't sleeping much. A lot of vivid dream, all connected somehow to my current life. Often waking up from REM sleep. Feeling groggy, and wanting to snooze after afternoon. I was constantly feeling like I needed to sleep more, but rarely could. Sleep was evading me. Red flag number 2.
Red flag number 3: I was eating like shit. I'm normally pretty healthy, often fasting in the morning (unintentionally for a long time, not realizing that was a thing), before eating leftovers for lunch and a full dinner chock full of veggies and protein, with little processed food. I've gone back to carb loading in the morning, skipping lunch, and not having energy to make a decent dinner.
So I knew. I knew a break was coming. I tried, in a way, to get ahead of it. I took more evenings 'off'. I scheduled an appointment with my therapist (who I haven't seen in about 3 years, maybe even 4). But my nights off turned into lazy binge watching, causing me to feel even less motivated and frustrated at my lack of accomplishments. And that appointment? Had to be scheduled until November.
Saturday morning came, and J and I were getting ready to head to the Forest City Film Fest - something I've wanted to check out for a few years. We're running late and I'm annoyed - I hate walking into things late. That's a trigger for my anxiety. So I try to take a few deep breaths and focus on getting downtown, parking, and making it for the first film. Lo and behold...downtown was backed up. Not from the construction chaos alone (which I already knew of), but there was an event taking place around the corner of the Film Fest and where I was planning to park. A 5-10 minute drive turned into 20. I was picking at my hands, cursing under my breath and was frantically trying to slow down and reassure myself that everything would be fine.
We finally park. We're already late. J is trying to get us there fast, making jokes about jogging over, but I'm not having it. We're late and I can feel the anxiety bubbling. The drive in and my frustration was just another symptom of the anxiety. I kept my mouth shut, as we started to walk, ignored J's hand, and started to try and ground myself. It didn't work. Suddenly I'm sobbing in the middle of downtown, in the rain. I'm trying to hide the tears and stop them, but that only makes it worse.
I round a corner, duck my face into a corner and tell J to give me a moment. I can barely catch my breath, shoulders shuddering, hiccuping, and tears streaming down my face. My body aches and things are spinning. And I'm so angry at myself. Livid. How could I lose control? In front of J? He must think I'm crazy. He must hate me right now. Be so annoyed. I let him down. How could I not just keep it together. It shouldn't be so hard. I'm better than this.
It finally subsided and J and I walked to the venue (after making a quick stop for some aftershocks of the anxiety attack). We only missed the first short, and no one cared that we were late. No one even noticed. And I had fun.
I really wanted yesterday to be a bad day. My anxiety took me by surprise and it frustrated me. But really, it was a good day. The fact that I still went to the Film Fest is a giant win. Historically, I let my anxiety 'win' and I would go home. I'd go somewhere else. Do something else. But this time, I sucked it up, put on a brave face, hoped no one would notice my red and puffy eyes, and went to the Film Fest.
And I had fun. That's another win. Commonly after an anxiety attack, I'm so in my head and spiraling into a state of mind that belittles myself that I can't have fun. Normally, I'm beating myself up, blaming myself for losing control. For not being strong. For being irrational. And while I briefly vocalized this out loud to J, I let it be. It took a lot of mental energy to let it be, but I did.
And the rest of the day was beautiful. It was quiet, with most of my energy used up from the day. I spent the evening on the couch, watching movies and going to bed early. But I went to bed knowing that although I had an anxiety attack today, in an incredibly vulnerable location and setting, it was still a good day.
Sometimes, it's all about that perspective. It comes back to looking at it through a different lens. I had a bad moment, but not a bad day. That will always been a win.
S
 |
| Niagara Falls, Ontario |
But to truly elaborate the perspective bit, there is a longer story to it. I think it's important to add context, to shape why it was a matter of a bad day vs good day. So here we go.
The past few months have been stressful and hectic. I loved it. I thrived in the chaos, at least at work. As soon as I would get home, however, I crashed. It wasn't good for me. It wasn't good for my partner. And it wasn't good for our pets either. I was starting to struggle, pouring all my energy into work and the future and failing to tend to myself in the now. That was red flag number 1.
I wasn't sleeping much. A lot of vivid dream, all connected somehow to my current life. Often waking up from REM sleep. Feeling groggy, and wanting to snooze after afternoon. I was constantly feeling like I needed to sleep more, but rarely could. Sleep was evading me. Red flag number 2.
Red flag number 3: I was eating like shit. I'm normally pretty healthy, often fasting in the morning (unintentionally for a long time, not realizing that was a thing), before eating leftovers for lunch and a full dinner chock full of veggies and protein, with little processed food. I've gone back to carb loading in the morning, skipping lunch, and not having energy to make a decent dinner.
So I knew. I knew a break was coming. I tried, in a way, to get ahead of it. I took more evenings 'off'. I scheduled an appointment with my therapist (who I haven't seen in about 3 years, maybe even 4). But my nights off turned into lazy binge watching, causing me to feel even less motivated and frustrated at my lack of accomplishments. And that appointment? Had to be scheduled until November.
Saturday morning came, and J and I were getting ready to head to the Forest City Film Fest - something I've wanted to check out for a few years. We're running late and I'm annoyed - I hate walking into things late. That's a trigger for my anxiety. So I try to take a few deep breaths and focus on getting downtown, parking, and making it for the first film. Lo and behold...downtown was backed up. Not from the construction chaos alone (which I already knew of), but there was an event taking place around the corner of the Film Fest and where I was planning to park. A 5-10 minute drive turned into 20. I was picking at my hands, cursing under my breath and was frantically trying to slow down and reassure myself that everything would be fine.
We finally park. We're already late. J is trying to get us there fast, making jokes about jogging over, but I'm not having it. We're late and I can feel the anxiety bubbling. The drive in and my frustration was just another symptom of the anxiety. I kept my mouth shut, as we started to walk, ignored J's hand, and started to try and ground myself. It didn't work. Suddenly I'm sobbing in the middle of downtown, in the rain. I'm trying to hide the tears and stop them, but that only makes it worse.
I round a corner, duck my face into a corner and tell J to give me a moment. I can barely catch my breath, shoulders shuddering, hiccuping, and tears streaming down my face. My body aches and things are spinning. And I'm so angry at myself. Livid. How could I lose control? In front of J? He must think I'm crazy. He must hate me right now. Be so annoyed. I let him down. How could I not just keep it together. It shouldn't be so hard. I'm better than this.
It finally subsided and J and I walked to the venue (after making a quick stop for some aftershocks of the anxiety attack). We only missed the first short, and no one cared that we were late. No one even noticed. And I had fun.
 |
| Tobermory, Ontario |
And I had fun. That's another win. Commonly after an anxiety attack, I'm so in my head and spiraling into a state of mind that belittles myself that I can't have fun. Normally, I'm beating myself up, blaming myself for losing control. For not being strong. For being irrational. And while I briefly vocalized this out loud to J, I let it be. It took a lot of mental energy to let it be, but I did.
And the rest of the day was beautiful. It was quiet, with most of my energy used up from the day. I spent the evening on the couch, watching movies and going to bed early. But I went to bed knowing that although I had an anxiety attack today, in an incredibly vulnerable location and setting, it was still a good day.
Sometimes, it's all about that perspective. It comes back to looking at it through a different lens. I had a bad moment, but not a bad day. That will always been a win.
S
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