You know, in many ways, I was less eff-ed up throughout my life than I thought I was. Understanding that much of my screwy self was created when I was little living in a dysfunctional family, I did well to come out with the drive to heal that I have. But in a few ways, I was a little more eff-ed up than I admitted I was. In fact, I think we all are. We’re all playing a grand game of “I’m Fine, See?”, but I’m not buying it.

Last year I was certain I was doing everything I possibly could to battle my anxiety. I have been in therapy always, I journal and confess, I read, I ruminate, and I witness with compassion my setbacks. Until suddenly, the fear monster overcame me and my heart was broken in my disbelief. And so I chose to do one more thing to find my way out. I asked for help.

F*%ked up on

With my anti-anxiety meds, I suddenly felt “normal”. There was no more buzz of fear in my head. No more hum in the sound system that suggests a problem. And as thrilled as I was to no longer be suffering the daily doubt and need to fix me, I also felt like I had woken up in another country. When you think you know the language of life and suddenly you don’t. When it’s always hard and suddenly easy, you wait for the other shoe to drop.

Up to this point, I had been cultivating a theory on how increased creativity can decrease anxiety. Except, what I had truly experienced was that creativity couldn’t take care of the anxiety completely. I wanted it to but it wouldn’t. And I felt such doubt in what I had been working on up until then. So I have awaited a new perspective to allow me new understanding.

At the core, self-trust is what balances and battles anxiety. And however you gain that, that’s your personal answer. Whether it’s creativity, abstinence, habitual self-care, therapy, meditation, the powerful magic of tidying up even one drawer, medication, or any combination of these, the final goal is to be happy and to be less anxious. But what is so important is that we need to do whatever it takes regardless of the stigma f not being OK. Because that snobbish pride prevented me from being less anxious for a long time.

So I’ve decided I’ll go back to pieces and theories I’ve written and mull over what thoughts still resonate and what needs to be overhauled with my new perspective. Raging against the change will not stop it. All that’s left is to find a way to begin again. And then…begin again.

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