I’m A Mom With Anxiety, And This Is What I Want You To Know

Anxiety. It’s incredible how something so widespread and common can also be so elusive and misunderstood. I know I’m not alone in the fact that I suffer from this sometimes debilitating mental disorder, and yet when I look at the many faces that surround me, I can’t help but feel like an outlier. It’s as if everyone has it figured out but me. Like everyone is going through the motions of life like a well-trained sailor on a smooth sea; meanwhile, I’m getting tossed into the tide from my measly lifeboat. 

I know that isn’t true. Anxiety is everywhere; I think we’ve all just gotten really good at hiding it. Confine and conceal. That has certainly become my tactic for managing this disorder over the years. But here’s the truth. I’m a woman, mother, sister, friend, living breathing human being with an anxiety disorder, and there are millions, maybe even billions just like me. And this is what I want you to know…

I’m Not Stuck Up

Like most people with anxiety, I rarely make a good first impression. My arms are crossed, breathing is rigid, I pick at my nails or aimlessly play with my phone as a form of divergence. It might take minutes, hours, maybe even days before I can steadily meet your gaze. But the truth is this; I’m not rude. Well, at least I’m not trying to be. I’m anxious. It takes me a while to get comfortable in different social situations and become familiar with new faces. But listen, us anxious folks need friends too, so please don’t give up on me too soon. 

It’s Not All In My Head

I can feel my anxiety everywhere. It’s in the shortness of my breath, my heartbeat, the cadence of my voice, my blood pressure, and the tingling of my hands and feet. In fact, sometimes it’s as though I can feel my anxiety everywhere BUT inside my head. I can be having a good day with no outstanding grievances or concerns, and yet anxiety will still be there, lurking its way into every cell of my body, infiltrating its most basic functions. My anxiety isn’t just in my head; it’s freaking everywhere.

I Have Good Days and Bad

Somedays, I can endure a rowdy toddler, endless housework, the overstimulating hell that is the grocery store, the emotional grievances of myself and others, and my professional obligations without a hitch. Hell, I might even manage to sneak in a little self-care and finish the day off feeling great. On the contrary, on other days, it feels like a struggle just to put breakfast on the table, and I’m ready to give up before noon. I can only speak for myself when I say, not every day with anxiety is horrible, but most days are unpredictable, which is part of what makes managing it so difficult. Anxiety never RSVPs to the party. I never know when it will appear or disappear. 

Sometimes I Need Support

I often forget that asking for help doesn’t make me weak. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. In my experience, asking for help is what allows me to rebuild my strength to soldier on. Letting go of control is what fills my proverbial cup because, after all, isn’t that the root of most anxiety? The desire to command a chaotic, untamable world? If I ask for help, it’s not because I’m lazy, incapable, or entitled, so please don’t confuse it as such. Sometimes, I just need to be reminded that the world won’t fall apart if I step back in surrender. Plus, It’s imperative to see that I have people in my corner who are willing to catch me if I fall. 

I’m Trying My Best

I love my friends and family. The last thing I want to do is be a burden, a source of concern, or a liability to the people I cherish. I might struggle and sometimes even suffer, but I still start each day with the intention of showing up and making space for the people I love, including myself. Anxiety doesn’t mean that I don’t care; it means that sometimes I care a little too much. But please believe me when I say, I’m wholeheartedly trying to be the best person, mother, wife, daughter, sister, and friend that I can be. And I can only pray that these efforts are well-received and that they are enough.