aNGˈzīədē/

Anxiety .aNGˈzīədē/
noun
a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.

Anxiety is exhausting. It wears me out. It feels like my brain is constantly firing off thoughts with no rhyme or reason. It is always thinking, and often times, {most of the time} it feels like it can't stop. It can feel like the thoughts are sometimes irrational, things that I can't control and that I know I shouldn't be worrying about- but the thing is, I can't stop worrying. Telling myself to not worry, or not to worry about things I can control, makes it worse, because then I am worried about being worried.

Sometimes it keeps me awake at nights. I wake up feeling exhausted, if I slept. It doesn't matter how tired I am, my brain wont shut off. {I did some research and recently bought a weighted blanket to try to help with this- I will write about this later}. Sometimes, I don't even know what it is that is keeping me awake. I often ask, "Why can't I sleep?" Even sleep aids don't seem to help.

I drive the people around me crazy, even if they say I don't. I worry about things that I have no need to worry about. I need (sometimes constant) reassurance that things are going to be ok. I may seem like I am an outgoing, bubbly person, and yes this is sometimes true, but sometimes, I just need to have some quiet time, home, away from the crowds. Sometimes the thought of being around people, even people I love and care deeply about, can be exhausting. Telling myself to stop thinking these thoughts, or to stop worrying about it, makes it even worse, because then I am worrying about worrying. It never stops.

It has been said that anxiety feels like you are swimming up stream. Your thoughts are the water rushing by you and you are just trying to get passed them. You just want to make it to somewhere you can stand up and not have the water take you away.

I make list. Some would even say I make list about making list. But somehow writing everything down and being able to check it off, helps. I feel a sense of accomplishment by being able to check things off my lists. It is a way that I am able to organize the thoughts in my head. I can see what needs to be done, I can cross it off, I can visually get it done.

A day off? I feel bad when I take days to do nothing. I feel like I wasted an opportunity to do something or get something done. Once I have something in my head that needs to be done, or I want to get done, which makes the anxiety worse. So yes, I like to be busy, yes I do take time to do fun things, and somehow find a way to keep the balance.

Living with anxiety is a balancing act. Finding what works for you can help. It might not always work. There are times when I just can't deal. I break down, but the best thing you can do when you are down, is get back up. 

Change, Growth, Friends

I was home alone last Saturday night feeling kind of down. My guy was at a work thing and I was home alone. I had been lazy all day. I was wishing that I could go out with a friend or have a girls night, just to have company. When I got a message from a friend asking if I wanted to meet for dinner. Next thing I knew I was at Margaritas and then almost 3 hours later I was heading home. It had been a while since we had gotten together, way to long. We have chatted frequently, weekly if not daily, over the last year, but only seen each other, briefly, a handful of times.
What did I realize while at dinner?
We're not the people we were just over a year ago. We have grown and changed a lot. The last year has been a year of growth. I went out on my own and opened/ hosted my own classes. I fell more deeply in love with the man of my dreams. We got engaged and began planning our wedding. I lost both of my grandparents, within 72 hours of each other, and I was thousands of miles away in the middle of the ocean. I left a job that I loved, but wasn't a sure secure income, for a job that pays a little less, but offers me security. I flew to Seattle in a whirlwind of a weekend to witness my cousin get married. I found countless pennies from heaven when I needed them the most. I spent countless nights at my cousins house playing TOK. Weekends at camp and a month with my future in laws this summer.
One thing I know for sure. Everything is happening for a reason. Every experiences has brought me to where I am in this moment, and most of the time, I am happy.

Every kid is ONE caring adult away from being a success story.

It's been almost 6 years since I taught him in 4th grade. He was a rough kid around the edges, but so were many in the class. But I got him. I understood. He came to school with baggage. Most of the time he slept at his best friends house, who was also in my class, "what's one more kid when you already have 6 boys?" she would ask. He played football. It was important to him and so I went to a game or two. Because I cared and if I cared and he knew it, maybe he would care about his school work too. Just maybe I would be one more person who cared about him. He wanted to be professional football player. He talked football all day. We had a conversation one day.

"You know if you want to play ball in middle school and high school you need to keep the grades up or you wont play."
"Yeah Ms. Skilling I know."
It was almost a daily conversation as things would be tossed across my class like a football.

Then one day the best friend came in.
"He's gone Ms. Skilling." he said holding back the tears.
"What do you mean he's gone?"
"His mom dropped him off at the airport with a suitcase and told him he was going to go live with his dad. He didn't even get to say good-bye."

I emailed *mom of 6 boys* right away.
She confirmed what was told to me by her heartbroken child. Later that day I got a Facebook message from *him*
Ms. Skilling I'm so sorry. I didn't know I was going to go. I didn't get to say good-bye. Tell the class I'm sorry. Tell them I miss them.
I didn't respond. I couldn't. I instead emailed the mom.
Please tell him that I hope he does well. That his class misses him and hopes he is ok. That I miss him.
She emailed me back and said she had offered to fly him back home and take custody of him. I commended her for her thoughtfulness and she said she knew I would understand. She saw me at the games, as it was her sons team too. She knew I understood. She sent me back an image and it stuck with me.

Three years later. Another message.
Hey Ms. Skilling its me *name* remember me?
And this time I respond.
Hi, *name* yes, I remember you. Hope you are well.
I'm doing well. Are you still doing Zumba?
Yes, I am! 6 days a week.

That was the end of the conversation.

Today.
Hey Ms. Skilling! It's me *name* remember me?
Hello *name*
How have you been?
I've been doing well, *name*, how about you?
Good. Playing football and keeping my grades up.
Good! You still out of state with your dad?
Yes. But I'm coming back to Maine in May for good and I wanted you to know.

Maybe next fall I'll be sitting at another football game and cheering on the boy, who, despite it all, is still playing football, keeping his grades up and surviving despite it all. Maybe one day I'll be watching him play for the NFL on my living room TV.