“I hope this question isn’t too personal . . . but, are you still seeing your therapist?”
I am. And I don’t mind that question at all.
I see her twice a month now, two hours total. This is a serious change from a year ago, when she and I met for two hours every week. I never missed an appointment, and I routinely needed a long nap after my session with her.
I am happy to tell you that anxiety is less of an issue these days. It is still present, still something I deal with, but it is no longer the crippling menace to my everyday.
Anxiety creeps in when I feel out of control, when I don’t know what’s coming next, when I think I’m in over my head.
These are the same triggers I’ve had since the very first panic attack. The difference is that my scope was much smaller then.
A trip to the mailbox seemed out of control.
A day alone with my children presented too many variables, too many unknowns.
A grocery list felt like too much information, the grocery store was comparable to the deep end of the ocean.
I expanded my scope by slowly learning to tell myself the truth. I have learned to combat the dishonesty of anxiety. She’s a good liar, that one. She had me in her grips for a long time.
The truth is, I can do those things. And I can do the next thing. When anxiety rears her ugly head again, I start with the same tactics I learned when everything was too much.
I just have to remind myself. Believe myself. Tell myself.
You can do this. You’re safe. Just do this one thing. That’s all.