The Strength Within

I was sitting here listening to that white noise only a fan in the winter can bring and thinking of the small things that bring my serenity and I feel the edges of my anxiety soften and give way to a creative, freeing joy.

When I was meditating my happy place was of my imagination yet made up of different slices of earthy heaven I’ve been to. I imagine the sweetest part of summer, for me it’s that scoop of May-June on the calendar. It’s that unspoken invitation for better things, longer nights and fairy lights, cherry blossoms, those curious warm night winds. I picture a charmingly lopsided road New England coast does so well punctuated with candy colored buoy walls and blue hydrangeas. And not just any blue. A soft poetic blue that’s still at the same time strong and unforgettable. I picture a private beach to sit on and there I mediate. There I can feel the sand through my fingers and the way the warmth of the sun and the subtle romance of a soft wave breaking to shore. That’s my happy place.

Yet these past couple months I’ve been searching endlessly for just minutes of calm like trying to grab cursive love notes kissed with perfume that a ferocious wind snatched out of your hands before mailing. I moved into darkness and fear and intrusive obsessive thinking and fell down more and more to a rabbit hole of terror like a broken Alice.

With a pandemic as our global backdrop it was easy for me to worry. Every body sensation, ache, sore throat, sneeze had deeper meaning, underscored and bold. My energy and focus was wrapped around my health and the looming catastrophe I felt. I felt exhausted by days end and the thought of going through it all again the next day brought me dread.

I hit rock bottom with my anxiety and health anxiety which broke though to unbridled hope. It took a night in the hospital and being evaluated for my mental health for me to start to dismantle this fear. I was in a room where the nurses could watch me from a small window. The window had little paintings of happy, waving snowmen and looking at them made me realize how joyless I’ve become. I didn’t want to die I just simply didn’t want to live with this fear anymore. It was an extremely humble moment.

I have hope and gratitude for each healthy day mentally, spiritually and physically. I have gratitude for all my friends, loved ones and resources around me. My journey with anxiety is always twisting and turning but at this avenue, I’ve been able to put down all the heavy luggage and sit under the January sun and breathe. I am strong and in moments of anxiety I still tell myself my strength is there- it’s always been.