Exhausted I sit, awaiting the luxury of sleep. Once again, the wonders of pregnancy have robbed me of those precious few winks I so desire. This time, insomnia has had an accomplice - anxiety. Fear and panic grip my mind as I try to drift into the Sandman's open and inviting arms. I close my eyes in hope of visions of what my unborn child will look like, my son's looks of excitement as we decorate his new room or my two-year-old daughter attempting to dance to the musical wonders of The Beatles. Instead of this desired bliss, terrifying images of horrible car accidents involving my family, serious illness taking my precious lives of my children and me being powerless to stop any of it rip vividly through my mind.
This kind of anxiety and panic causes me to rise out of my bed, careful as to not disturb my peacefully sleeping husband, and quietly creep across the hall to the bedroom that my two beautiful children currently share. The eldest, my son, stirs and rolls over. I tip-toe to his bedside, tuck him snugly back under his covers and hush him back to sleep. I caress his head softly and kiss his forehead to keep him far into dreamland. I sneak across the room, carefully avoiding the lego rendition of the 'Titanic' on the floor. My daughter slowly opens her big eyes as I reach the side of her crib. She sleepily reaches up for me. I scoop her and her favorite blankie up in my arms and she immediately snuggles into my chest, wrapping her little arms around my neck. I take her into my room and lay her between me and my husband, protectively cradling her in my arms as I once did following her birth. I kiss her soft cheek and she wraps her fingers around my thumb. When I whispered, "I love you," she whispered back, "I love you too." Tears fill my eyes and swiftly run down my cheeks.
If my bed were larger and if I could have actually physically lifted my seven-year-old out of bed, I surely would have done so. I would have plucked him out of his bed and tucked him securely next to his daddy and sister. With my family tucked safely in my bed, perhaps I would have stood a slight chance at falling asleep.
Where do these thoughts and feelings of anxiety come from? I have been through this before. I have sought advice from professionals, even professionals with personal experience! I have gotten through these panic attacks before. These thoughts are so far fetched and yet I cannot push them from my mind. What is worse is that they show up in my mind completely univited! No manners whatsoever! Damn anxiety. No consideration for anyone else.
Those who have not suffered this anxiety or panic attacks probably brush it off as nonsense or a bunch of over diagnosed propaganda. Try to put yourself in those shoes for just one minute. Imagine hours upon hours of crying. During the crying, you lose all sense of control over any aspect of your life. Your world is crumbling around you. You have visions of those you love dying before your eyes, just out of your reach. You cannot breathe. You feel like you are going to hyperventilate and your heart is beating so rapidly and strongly it is literally going to beat right out of your chest onto the floor. Now, you imagined that for just a minute. Imagine how that must feel for hours.
Now we come to the issue at hand. How do I actually accomplish my goal of these wee small hours - SLEEP? After cuddling with my children, lots of uncontrollable crying and attempting to curl up with my sleeping husband, here I sit still awake. Thus far, distraction is not working. I am too distracted to read and actually enjoy the contents of my wonderful historical romance. I am physically too tired to do anything requiring use of my fine motor skills, such as the christmas needlepoint project I started last week. I do not want to be alone so sitting on the couch channel surfing is completely out of the question. So it would appear my options are nothing, nothing and NOTHING. How do other people cope with this severe anxiety?
Tomorrow, well technically today if you want to argue about it, the goal will be to further research coping methods of anxiety. I know I am not the only person out there suffering from this terrible ordeal. I am not the only one who has hopelessly cried for hours until my body no longer produces tears.
I am NOT in search of sympathy or pity. I just want to speak out and perhaps help others whom suffer from this horrendous anxiety realize that they do not suffer alone. I shall document my research findings. I hope that my findings will help others.
Please leave comments.
So, come fellow anxious insomniacs! Let us face the darkest shadows of night together! Let us conquer this beast, torches and pitchforks in hand! Let us fight this demon TOGETHER!!
1 comment:
Before my son was born as well as a long time afterward, I had nightmares about him being taken from me; stolen, kidnapped, killed. Those dreams were awful. I didn't trust anyone to hold him for too long. I was terrified that someone would somehow get him away from me. I wanted the world to stop spinning until I had raised my son. Barring that, the least it could do was give me a cocoon to wrap him in.
I would wander the house at night, trying to find something to do. I seldom did. Sometimes I would try to read. But after reading the same paragraph for the umpteenth time, I would give up.
As time went on, those feelings lessened into a dull knot at the back of my skull. They never completely went away. They just changed over the years.
And then, at the age of 2, he developed severe asthma. All my fears cropped up again but with a whole new twist. I would go into his room almost every night to make sure he was breathing. I would make sure, again and again, that his medicine was right at my fingertips in case he needed it.
I realized that I would never have control over the world. The world was going to do as it pleased. I needed something else to count on. I found that all I could do was my best and leave the rest in God's hands.
I may never be a deep sleeper. I still don't sleep well. But I know, now that my son is grown and has a family of his own, that I did all I could to keep him safe. I also know that God did, and is still doing, his part.
The feelings won't go away. But they will dim with time. You will be alright. And your children will know your love upheld them throughout their lives.
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