I was shocked to receive the diagnosis: anxiety. For years, the word used to describe some of my grayer days was depression.
Turns out, a lot of what I thought was depression was actually anxiety. But I didn’t realize that at the time. Something happened when my oldest was about 6 and my youngest was about 1. One of my friends made a loving comment that I seemed a lot less anxious around my kids that day. At first I was aghast. How dare she? What? Me? Anxious? I’m cool. Calm. Collected.
But she was right. My heart wasn’t racing as much. My brain also wasn’t. And my shirt, well, it didn’t need to go to the dry cleaner that day. My oldest has severe ADHD. My anxiety was through the roof when he was younger, driven by my worries about what people would say about us in public or in private settings. Her comment made me reflect on how I acted and how I parented. It helped me start to change some of my behaviors. (Which was a good thing, because those were the early days of The Orange Rhino Challenge®.) Fast forward five years to my divorce era.
I was talking with my therapist about how hard the days were. She mentioned treating me for situational depression. I agreed. Then she said, “And I think you should mention anxiety to the psychiatrist too.” There it was again. The A word. “What?” I said. “I don’t have anxiety.” But then I paused. My therapist was right. And you know what? It was an incredible relief to accept that.
Turns out, so much of my “depression” was actually driven by anxiety. (Not long after, I also learned ADHD was part of my struggles. Like my skin cancer, that diagnosis took a lot of advocating. A story for another day.) I’ve learned a lot about anxiety since that day in my therapist’s office. She taught me a lot of skills. I taught myself a lot about, well… me.
But the best thing I ever learned? This: Try your best to not worry now. Wait until you know facts. If your fears don’t come true, you wasted energy and felt bad for no reason. If they do come true? Then they hurt twice — in the moment, and in all the anxious moments leading up to it. Mic. Drop. The picture in this post? It’s my current hairstyle.
And it is sooooo much better than I expected. My anxiety was understandable — I don’t dismiss it. I try to understand what it’s telling me.
But I’m also grateful I didn’t wallow in it for weeks leading up to the procedure (a few hours here and there? Yep. Totally did. I’m human) Because when I used to wallow in anxiety, I snapped at my kids more. I wasn’t as present as I wanted to be. And when I was present? I wasn’t exactly fun to be around. I was on edge. Which meant I enjoyed fewer moments. I spiraled during the day, got off track, and then felt even more anxious at night.
My relationship with anxiety still needs work. (Don’t most relationships?) Teenagers driving, going to college, making big decisions on their own will absolutely test anxiety. But I’m doing better. And I’m grateful for my therapist. And for that friend years ago who planted the seed. Sometimes one honest comment is the beginning of a completely different life. We just have to be open to hearing it. I know. Easier said than done.
So. Much. Easier. Kinda like managing anxiety. If depression, anxiety, or ADHD are part of your story, welcome. I get it. And if you don’t have a formal diagnosis but perimenopause has brought on some very similar symptoms… also welcome. Heck, welcome everyone. Sending my warmth to you, today and always,
xoxo, Sheila
🧡 The Orange Rhino
