The older I get, the less isolated I feel about my journey with anxiety, and the less I feel like there's nothing I can do about it.
Anxiety, in and of itself, is isolating and is disempowering — if anxiety, as I've experienced it, had a voice, that voice would be saying: "You're alone and there's nothing you can do."
It can take me from a moment of pure joy to what feels like a never-ending state of overwhelmed "WTF-ness", if you will.
I have to find outlets for my stress and anxiety. From September 2016 - September 2017 that was mostly yoga for me. I did yoga sometimes several times a week.
I didn't do any all October. I got wrapped up in work, events, Netflix and going out with friends. And last week, I felt anxiety manifesting physically in my body, for the first time in about a year. Red, hot face, rushed thoughts, oh no, wait, what, what's happening? Yeah. It makes a tangible difference.
So now I'm on a mission to start yoga again, revamp my eating habits, and get regular rest. Even if it means late blog posts, or skipped ones (which I'm sure bothers me way more than anyone else, even though my mind tries to tell me otherwise).
There's power in rest. And there's power in allowing myself to go through these motions of feeling. As Brené Brown says, if I numb myself to these challenging spaces, I'll ultimately numb myself to the glorious ones that follow.
Do you have a story of the power of rest or vulnerability in your life? Share in the comments below!