What Do You Do With Momma Anxiety?
I am up at 4 this morning, thoughts churning, heart heavy, mind too full to sleep. Momma anxiety attacks me and I can’t let it be-no amount of deep breathing, tossing and turning or glancing at the clock will help. I need to get up.
As the coffee brews, I gather my things around me, those tools I find can ease my mind, if not put it at peace. When I begin to feel frantic and scattered, that this life is all too much to handle, I just need to stop what I am doing. I need to float. Whatever I am doing isn’t serving me and certainly not serving my family.
When I begin to be more concerned or overly conscious of “others”, that’s when I run aground. And those others? They aren’t even real. The others are ghosts of comments taken personally, twisted interpretations of sitcom-worthy scenes in a day, the stories made up that aren’t even true. The others are just me messing with me.
Do you do this? I get a little worry in my head, caused by an off-hand comment or something that happened two weeks ago. A movie of the moment runs over and over in my head, becoming bigger and scarier with each iteration.
I’ve read experts who recommend to overcome your worries, you should just feel them, let them come, wash over you and in moments, you will feel a bit of buoyancy.
It has been an easy, breezy wintertime here at Weller Central but spring seems to be taking me under with its tidal wave of commitments. All the new adventures, each as a stand alone, is wildly exciting and energizing. New people to meet, a year to contemplate and a future one to plan for, a house patiently waiting for summer for a refresh. But added all together, the new stuff inspires this early morning anxiety.
I fantasize about “doing it all”; finding my passions and time to pursue them, connecting to friends, and homeschooling with verve and vitality. In reality? The day to day? Its taking me under. What if I just want to do it all? How can I reconcile that wish with the dishes and the laundry and the making of the meals? How can I be at peace with the little bits of unfinished projects that litter the house and the books half-read on the side table? What do I have to give up and what can I let go? What am I willing to trade in? Do I have to choose?
It would seem that, yes, there is a choice to be made here. I can choose to sweep the feelings under the rug, get on with the plans, do the next thing on the list. Or I can sit in the dark, sipping hot coffee, watching the moon fall to the horizon and hear the birds start to trill as light seeps over the hill in the back. I can feel the overwhelm of all the responsibilities, the accumulation of decisions made that line the life I’ve chosen, and let it be. It is what it is.
Life feels weighty sometimes. It is all I can do to keep my head above the water, treading. I call up an image of O at swimming lessons; he is working so hard under the water to keep his head up and as time is called, what does he do? He stops. He relaxes. He looks up and floats. All at once, stillness comes over him, a smile lights up his face, and its not work anymore. It is peace.