Second Maiden Voyage

I've played with creating a new blog about my anxiety and depression for a while now. I had one before, called The High A Project. It was my baby. I put my heart and soul into it...and I let my anxiety destroy it. The moment I hit delete, I was devastated. I know that sounds silly, but it was like a piece of me was deleted right there with it. If you have anxiety, you may know where I'm coming from. You work so hard to feel normal, to be normal, and you start making progress. You're able to do the small things you couldn't before. Making that phone call. Going to that doctors appointment. Going to the store and getting groceries. And then the next thing you know, something small happens, and you are snapped back into that dark hole and unable to do it anymore. 

I was doing so well. My son started Kindergarten and I only cried once. I started school again. I lost my job and didn't have a panic attack. I broke my foot, and didn't let it keep me down (literally)...I was VERY non-compliant haha. I felt really good. I was more confident than I had been in a very long time. And then the job search wasn't going as planned. One month turned into two, two into three, and so on. I lost all of that confidence. And I sunk. Once again. Back into that black pit of anxiety hell. So I deleted my Facebook, and with that, went my page. And I hated myself for it. I felt like a failure all over again. I let my anxiety ruin it all over again. 

I've tried for a really long time to hold on to who I was at 15 years old. That carefree age where nothing mattered but boys and friends and having fun. I always thought if I fought hard enough, I could find that feeling again. That I could be happy again. That I could chase away the thoughts and feelings and trauma that the past decade plus has thrown my way. But life doesn't work like that. I was foolish...or naive...to think it did. I've realized over the past week that I'm not who I was back then, and no matter how tightly I hold on to the past, no matter how tightly I cling to memories of who I was back then, I will never get that back. I'm having to learn how to figure out who I am now, and how to make it work. It's like meeting a new person, who is a little skittish, for the first time and trying to become best friends with them. It takes time, patience, and understanding. It takes questions, and digging, and finding out how they tick. Except "they" is me, and I'm not patient, I hate asking questions, and I don't like people in general. So this is going to be a huge, very uncomfortable, exceedingly uncomfortable, very annoying learning curve. Hopefully the outcome is something incredibly amazing.

But I'm trying again. I'm starting fresh. My second maiden voyage. The thing about fighters...about survivors...is that we don't give up. We keep trying. And I am determined to win my battle with anxiety and depression. Or at least give it a run for it's money. Follow along. Or don't. This is for me, not you. But if you happen to find something useful along the way, I'm glad. 

-Slips-