Well that heart rate is getting a bit high…
I’m off two of my meds and a week into tapering off the last one, the antidepressant. It could be other things, I certainly have a lot of stress in my life. But it could also be tapering off the antidepressant that is causing me to have a lot of constant anxiety.
I’ve noticed that I start ramping up in the evening, a little less than 24 hours after my dose. I’ve always taken my meds at night because that has worked better for me. Now that I’m on half a dose, I don’t think I’m quite making it to the next pill, and I’m drinking nearly a gallon of water a day so I may be flushing the chemicals out of my system faster than I otherwise would. Gotta renew those cells! Plus now that it’s actually winter my skin gets really dry if I’m not chugging water all day.
I never know what to expect in my recovery process, but I knew this part could be hard. It is. I’m leaning on a low dose on Xanax every night to not go tumbling down into the pit. I’m hoping this doesn’t last too long, and there are positive effects of getting off the last of my pills. My creative function is higher, I’m dreaming with clarity and I feel much more connected. I did catch it earlier tonight, so at least observing myself and being body aware is starting to work!
I can also have physical manifestations of anxiety that make it hard to sleep.
“I slept in” is my every day this week. I wear a Fitbit (the Tiny Tyrant) for the primary purpose of tracking my sleep, because it says a lot about where I am in the anxiety spectrum..or where I will be soon if I don’t sleep more. I may have said this before, I do well on about 9 hours a night. And if your knee-jerk response to that was to negate the time I find optimal for sleep length, you probably don’t have my brain, so stuff it.
As I am getting into practicing the things that will make be better, as I begin to engage in a lifestyle that helps me heal rather than continues the damage, I have to remember to sleep. It is the only way I reset from anxiety – drugs don’t even do it. And when I am paying enough attention to myself, I need to sleep more after a severe trigger episode like the one I just had. Sleep brings back some balance, some calm and some self-awareness that I can’t get any other way. So right now I’m sleeping as much as my body wants, and scheduling my day once I wake up. I’m calling this a good use of Christmas break.
Sleep doesn’t come easily though when I’m practicing restoration. Once I’m asleep I’m good, but getting there can be a challenge. Bedtime is when I can have anxiety spikes. There’s nothing left to distract me, nothing left to figure out or do…it’s like a gasping chasm between me and rest that has no bridge and no way across. Anxiety loves to simmer as I’m trying to go to sleep, keeping me awake with the lies and uncertainty.
I can also have physical manifestations of anxiety that make it hard to sleep. Last night (and this has happened before), anxiety was cold. I had been comfortably warm watching a football game in just my pajamas. As soon as I lay in bed wanting to sleep, in those same cozy pajamas, in warm fuzzy socks, under a thick blanket, same room temperature, I was shivering with cold and could not get warm. Our experience with temperature is relative, sometimes 60 degrees can feel good and sometimes it can feel chilly. I had no reason to be so cold before sleep other than anxiety. My fingers were like ice and I shivered until at some point I fell asleep, anxious about so many things that are out of my control until I did.
But I slept, I got the reset, I woke up in a warm bed on my own time (I have no end of gratitude for this luxury), and today is a day that is starting off with restoration rather than anxiety.
I almost died in a car wreck that happened in the rain. For the most part (and thanks to EMDR and a lot of therapy) I don’t really have problems anymore when I drive. When I do, I have coping skills that work well. So today was a pretty big surprise when I was driving in the rain on my way to a meeting and started having flashbacks, not about my car wreck, but about the day of my brother’s accident. Clear as anything were the memories of getting the call from my mom, picking up his truck, sitting in the ICU waiting room unable to pray and barely able to hold it together, leaning on the prayers and shoulders of friends.
I’ve rarely had flashbacks of my own trauma, much less that of someone else. And while that day was traumatic for me, it hasn’t had nearly the impact that my own trauma has.
As I began to write this post, I also began to ask why and to process what happened this afternoon. I’m dreaming again… I’m processing again… I’m resolving trauma again.
I am done being afraid of the hold the past has on me. I’ve survived this much this long, and I can deal with whatever else boils up. But this was interesting, because as much as the flashback experience while driving on slick roads was not pleasant, it didn’t shake me. I’m now more curious about it, about where it came from and why that day?
I dream when I’m relaxed or when I am processing. Emotions, events – they all get run through my dream cycles in full color and epic drama. I don’t dream the exact thing, I dream versions of it, or nothing at all related. I started dreaming again this week after a long time off. My resting heart rate is slowly dropping, I’m a little more calm during the day and now memories are emerging that probably haven’t been dealt with. The human brain is fascinating.
Am I excited by this? Nope. Am I afraid of it? Also nope. Gonna deal with it and move on…
2 was enough. 2 wasn’t my steps for the day or my exercise goal or any of that, it was enough for me.
Y’all. That epic face on the floor sob fest is still polluting my brain, making me tired and causing a haze of ugh. The show must go on, however, and I’m a day, a permit application and a set of historic window reproduction drawings plus a snarky response to a City Administrator away from 4 days off. I am so thankful I’ve held it together long enough and strong enough to get this project done on time and to a quality I can take pride in. I’m also thankful that I skipped exercise yesterday and read half a book instead. I did 2 trail miles today and ran about 1/4 of it, which was also an accomplishment, because I don’t run.
I stopped at 2 miles. That was huge.
2 was enough. 2 wasn’t my steps for the day or my exercise goal or any of that, it was enough for me. It was enough for me to run errands, take care of paperwork, stop for a trail run and go just far enough but not so far that I wore myself out. I’m like a kid that once too tired loses their shit and has a meltdown. So I stopped. Go me, because I am not really one to stop. I keep going until I hurt. Or my brain breaks.
In better news, it’s been a month since I ditched my cyber stalker (Stalked – Get Off My Cyber Ankles) and he hasn’t found me. He does check my work social media, but he can’t comment, and I don’t have a direct view of his stalking. It’s awesome. I had no idea how much that was weighing on me, but my resting heart rate is down 4 bpm from a month ago, and that has been one of my goals – get anxiety down enough while I sleep that I don’t look like I’m about to stroke out. Exercise, firm decisions, lots of water and more sleep have really helped.
I’m sitting here working late again, and my therapist and I had a chat about that. Since work is a coping mechanism for me, it doesn’t feel like a bad thing to work into the evening while I’m comfortable at home. But apparently not putting it down and doing my own thing is not the best, so I made a plan for my upcoming days off to rearrange my space so that work is over there and I am over here…as in, stop working on my laptop from my bed. Yeah…still practicing.