Anxiety in the Pandemic

Okay, I will go first.

Sometimes embarrassment can keep me from telling the truth. The snide looks, hurtful remarks, the fear of judgement...from people you know, or if you are on social media, people you may not know. But, the truth of the matter, embarrassment is not my bully.

Anxiety became the bully that haunted my nighttime hours. Sunsets welcomed in the bedtime stories of "sleepless with the enemy".

My quarantine space started out simple enough. It was Friday, and I had just finished up a 9-week semester with my students and was about to enjoy 3 weeks of sunshine on the Gulf of Mexico, but as the word began to spread about the corona virus, hospitals begin to fill, and reported deaths begin to rise, I, and my family, thought it best to stay put.

Then, not even a month into this thing, I received a phone call that my godmother had become a victim to this deadly disease. With no warning, no final goodbyes, no hugs or kisses, or a held hand, she left this earth.

I was over 400 miles away and did not attend funeral services. Only 10 people were allowed in. I chose not to attend. Under the guidance to quarantine and coupled with the burden of grieving between the four walls, alone, the anxiety began to manifest, right in front of my eyes...I never saw it coming.

The for real mask, looked like happy hours with family and friends, Friday night dancing and dining, Saturday morning on line shopping, Sunday facials, zoom work meetings, drive by birthday celebrations, crying, eating, and, of course, sleepless. Masking the pain became weight gain and the feelings of insane.

Caffeine became my drug of choice to comfort me in my sleepless. After my normal one cup of morning coffee, my habit of drinking started around 3 or 4 in the evening hours, and then sometimes more, if needed. I picked up crafting habits, painting, planting, and always planning. Anything to stay awake. But then, like most things in life, things that were once good for you, comes to an end. The coffee stopped doing its job. The late night snacking took its toll on my body. The sweatpants and flipflops are enemies within itself.

If I cry one more tear...I felt I would lose it. So! I sat down with myself in quietness. Get a handle on yourself, I would say. I grabbed my thoughts and told them to take a moment, and rest. They paused as commanded because what I knew all along...I am in control of some things and what I needed more than ever, with my anxiety in this pandemic...rest.

Step one: Blueprint

While I sat in silence and sleepless, I traveled back in my lifetime. I had to go back to 1994. I had to begin where life took a pause. It was the day that my mom left me in her physical body. Every experience of the rest of my life would be transformed by that one moment. That one moment had caused everything that had been built to crumble and fall apart at my feet. While I viewed this as a life altering disaster, it would be years before I realized that those crumbles were tools that I would need and use to rebuild.

Little did I know 26 years ago that there would be a little thing called social media that would help me propel my life back into play. After a long unwarranted and unwanted, pause, the button was pushed and I created a page called, "Rehabb...Ground Floor Up" (the second "b" was placed to show strength in unity). I birthed this page to help me rebuild myself, to dismantle my thoughts of negativity, and to increase my actions to not only fall back into what I had been, but to exercise my creativity into what I would, become.