Recently, a co-worker jokingly said I should consider medication for my anxious tendencies. {Really, he said "I think you need to be medicated.} I fondly call myself a worry-wart, but deep down, I kid myself into thinking I have a mild case of the jitters in stressful situations when truly, I can be an internal basket case of tangled Christmas lights.
At first, I was taken aback by the statement of "you need to be medicated" and tried to toss it off quickly with quick wit, a smile, and laughter. But since my co-worker said this to me last Tuesday, it's really been playing on my mind {read: I've been obsessing about it}. So, I asked my husband last Tuesday night, "do you think I need anxiety medication?"
"Do you think you need anxiety medication?" was his reply with a smile.
He is a smart, smart man. He knows that although I often play 'tough-girl' and can verbally spar with the best of debaters and witty jokesters, I am still a sensitive person with even more sensitive feelings.
"No, of course not." I told him.
But, again, was that a natural defense against feeling weakness or fear in needing or asking for help?
I spoke to my counselor yesterday about the interactions between me and my co-worker, what prompted my co-worker's comment, and also my reaction to my husband's statements. My co-worker was not being mean and I never felt his comments warranted an HR visit...he was sincerely trying to help, but approached the situation in a joking manner. I also don't think my husband was brushing me off by answering a question with a question. Obviously, the decision to take medication to help with anxiety is a personal decision that someone else cannot answer for me. But when or should that decision for chemical assistance be made?
I don't have that answer yet for me personally, but I do know that stress management is a huge mountain I MUST climb if I want to stay healthy and sane. I worry about things I not only have no control over, but that DO NOT even matter or statistically speaking WILL NOT ever happen to me.
For instance, statistically speaking, how likely is it for an overpass to crack and cascade like an avalanche onto my car as I drive under it?
How likely am I to die from falling down the stairs {when I am not drunk, not wearing high heels, and not carrying anything all while holding the railing}?
How likely is it that I will contract chronic wasting disease prions from eating deer meat?
Should I stop here? Do I need to go on any further? I'm serious...the slot machine of "what ifs" never stops spinning my my head. {It doesn't help when I get addicted to shows like The Walking Dead}.
Granted, these are more of the dramatic worrisome items that I have thoughts about on a rotating basis. The daily items range from whether I will lose my job for not keeping my locality's closed landfill in compliance {forgetting the fact that I've only been working on it for 11 months and it's had compliance issues for 20+ years} and whether my car battery will stall out on me like it did...twice...years ago...in a DIFFERENT car.
Writing these ridiculous statements in this format is making me mentally roll my own eyes. How do I live like this? The admission of my racing thoughts is actually a bit embarrassing.
So, back to what I started to mention way up at the top of this post. I'm starting out on a new adventure of learning yoga and breathing techniques. Instead of jumping in feet first and purchasing the latest and greatest CD, DVD, and flashy best-selling meditation guides, I am seeking out low to no-cost options through avenues like Pinterest, YouTube, and a website my counselor gave me: Yoga For Depression. This site does sell many items, but just reading the pages {especially Research and News} can be a good way to guide towards information about yoga and breathing.
Are you an easily stressed person? Does your stress manifest in IBS and mood swings like mine does? How do you manage your stress or worrisome nature?
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| Very good advice. |


Yes, I have issues with anxiety. When I'm having racing thoughts and extreme worry (I think this parking garage is going to collapse on me), that is when I know I need to take better care of myself. Usually what that means is getting more sleep, less caffeine and sugar, more exercise, and then it is manageable. I also cut back on stressful entertainment, and make time to do things that I know I really enjoy without any stress (simple mysteries, tea and crosswords, radio shows).
ReplyDeleteI think I'm married to your male counter-part.
ReplyDeleteTiffany...mentioning radio shows makes me want to reconnect with NPR podcasts and listen to more "Fresh Air" and "Science America", etc. Thank you for reminding me of these awesome radio segments!
ReplyDeleteJulie...not for once did I envision Squatch to suffer the same. It honestly did't occur to me that men would suffer from this type of anxiety at all. Why wouldn't they? I'm wondering if his love of poop stories is bred from necessity...if it happens to you enough (IBS)...you either love to laugh about it or hate to talk about it.
He does love poop stories...I think poop is actually one thing he doesn't worry about though (well, except when it seems to be stopped up for some reason...so I take it back, he does worry about poop sometimes).
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