Anxious

It's hard to be silent.

Silence can be maddening.

To say one thing can amplify the way people feel about me, good or bad.

"Don't judge."

"Maybe there's a reason they feel that way about that issue."

"You don't know the story behind why they have that view."

"Everyone's entitled to their own opinion."

It's true.

Everyone deserves to form their own thoughts, surrounding their feelings.

And hey, that includes me!



My family has a long history of anxiety.

In my maternal line of family history there is a strong anxious gene that makes life a living dungeon at times for us women.

There's a story to be told for why this is true.

Back in the early 1900's, possibly late 1800's, my great great grandma was born. We don't know the story surrounding her birth or why what happened to her had to happen, but early in her infancy she was left on the doorstep of her adopted parents home.

Can you imagine that!?

Opening your door and seeing a tiny baby there left alone?

Her adopted parents had no explanation.

There was nothing telling why this had come about. Since that was the case, my great great grandma grew up wondering if someone, anyone, would come back for her one day.

The mother that took her in and raised her as her own was terrified that a person would show up one day wanting my great great grandma back.

So anytime there was a person at the door, or they heard someone approaching the house, my great great grandma had to run and hide in a closet for safety.

The child development fanatic in me finds this MASSIVELY fascinating.

I just.... I can't even begin to wonder what this did to my poor great great grandma as a child.

The trauma she experienced, living in fear of being taken....

I truly believe that caused a chemical change in her, causing anxiety to run through her veins and literally be passed down through the generations.

All the women since this great great grandma have suffered from anxiety, myself included.

In lots of ways I have pushed it off and told myself that.... well, I'm not that bad off. It doesn't bother me too much.

Anxiety, that is.

It's taken a loving, unanxious husband and lots of years to realize that I do have a hard time with it.

Anxiety.

That is.

Through all this Covid 19 nonsense I have learned a lot about my anxiety.

Some days it flattens me to the ground.

The other day I was literally stuck in a spiral.

I tried doing things for my family.

I tried talking to Jeff.

I tried talking to my mom.

But my head was just completely stuck.

I spiralled all day long.

I have been thinking about my sweet great great grandma a lot lately.

What would she have to say to me? How could she help me?

My anxiety surrounding Covid 19 and my diabetes is UNREAL.

I am sad to admit that I have had some days where I have obsessively thought about what could happen with my diabetes if I got the coronavirus.

Would getting hospitalized happen?

It very easily could.

When I am sick my blood sugar is very unpredictable. I can go into diabetic ketoacidosis in a matter of hours.

I have thought about what that would do to my children and how much they depend on me. What that would do to Jeff if I was stuck in the hospital alone.

As much as I can sit and think about how that hopefully will never happen, it is still a realistic possibility.

I sit silently and read people talking about their freedoms surrounding this virus. This pandemic.

Freedom.

It hurts my heart that mild inconveniences seem more important to so many, over things that are so very, heavy for me.

What about my freedom.

To live?

To feel safe?

To have a chance to....

But we don't know....

But we don't know....

But we don't know....

"We don't know if it'll actually help."

Masks.

We're talking about masks here.

.......

To that I say, what if it does?

For the greater good of all.... what if it actually helps.

What is holding you back from doing the right thing ... the considerate thing... the kind thing for the greater good.

If anything, over these past several months I have learned that the many people keep their minds narrow and square on one thing...  themselves.

It's easy to do. It's in our nature to think of what is happening to us, what is affecting us.

I'm doing it right now, for goodness sakes.

This certainly is all about me.

If I could make this one plea, as an anxious, albeit, high risk individual in these uncertain times it would be this.

Please, put yourself in my shoes.

Even just for one minute.

I want life to be normal too. I'm sick of this lifestyle too.

But please. Think about me when you put on a mask for the 5 minutes you're in Walmart.

And maybe if you think about me, or someone else equally or lesser annoying... then we will slowly start getting better.

That's all this anxious mind can hope for.