Managing anxiety in the current political climate

The news is scary.

And the more days that pass, the scarier it seems to get.

People in power are making decisions that have serious and long-lasting implications, and they don't seem to realize or care about those implications. Their sights are set elsewhere.

For someone like me who struggles with anxiety, the political climate can be even more scary. There are measures being enacted that have a direct and significant impact on millions of Americans and people all over the world. There are people in this country who are dying because of measures being passed and actions being allowed in this country.

We live in a country that claims vehemently to be the land of the free and the home of the brave, but because of how the people in charge are behaving, the people who are brave are not free. The people who are free are not brave. And the people who are benefiting from anything and everything that's happened since January are perfectly willing to turn blind eyes to all the pain and heartache they're causing.

They aren't impacted because they pass measures that protect themselves, not the American people.

So for people who have anxiety -- like me -- it's hard to be a social justice warrior. It's hard to look at everything that's happening and not feel it. But neither can you just ignore what's happening. Once you see social justice issues and what's actually happening in this world, you can't not see it anymore.

So what do you do?

Remember that self-care is health care.

Taking care of your mental health needs are essential. Engaging in today's politics is emotionally and mentally taxing. For someone with anxiety, it can be even more difficult. You have to remember that this fight is a long-term fight, and it won't be over in a few days or weeks (or months). Very probably, we will be fighting for the next four years. If you don't take care of yourself through this process, in whatever capacity that means, you can't resist. You can't engage. You can't fight. Self-care is health care.

Fight from where you are.

Every person has different talents and skills. Some people are organizers, some are marchers/protesters, some are talkers, some are writers. Due to my anxiety, I'm probably not going to organize a march in my community. I probably won't give a speech at a rally. But I can blog and share articles on Facebook and tweet and engage in digital conversations. So to keep my anxiety from keeping me from resisting, I have to do what I do best: engage online. If I try to do something that's outside my talents and skills, I'll be much more likely to be highly anxious, and may not be able to keep fighting. So it's important to fight from where you are so you can keep fighting.

Know that you are not alone in this fight.

Sometimes it can be easy to look at everything that's happening and think it's too much to do. "I'm just one person. What impact can I have?" Of course, there are many, many stories about individuals who fought to change the world and were successful. But you have to remember that even those individual people who have made such significant changes didn't do it entirely alone. They started the process, but they relied on lots of others who also helped them accomplish their goals. An individual may have started the conversation, but others amplified the voice. Others marched alongside the individual. You don't have to do it on your own. All you have to do is what you can do. Let others pick up slack, let others support you, let others help carry the weight. You are not alone.

There's a lot to cause anxiety in society these days. And it can be hard to fight for what's right when you're trying to stand against your own anxiety. Don't let the anxiety win. Take care of yourself so you can keep fighting the good fight.

And I'll be here to fight with you every step of the way.

I am broken.

Everyone is broken, but I've felt more of my broken bits lately. I've found myself struggling a bit more with depression and anxiety, and having to remind myself out loud that depression lies. (For the best posts explaining depression that I have ever read, please read this and this from Hyperbole and a Half.)

I've struggled with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember. But I didn't have a name for what I was experiencing until high school. When my parents divorced, I was sent to a counselor. I was in and out of therapy (and on and off medication) throughout high school and college.

I've learned techniques to cope with bouts of depression and periods of anxiety. I know the little tricks that work when I feel it coming on--deep breathing, yoga, going for a long walk, journaling--and the other things I need to do when I'm in the middle of it. I have coping mechanisms that have helped me keep my depression and anxiety largely under control, even when I was going through the divorce from Monty.

After the divorce, once I was settled in Florida, things were lots better. I was in a career I adore, the munchkins had a good, healthy schedule to get to see Monty and myself regularly, and I was settling into a routine. Then, in February 2014, I met Bo, and fell in love. And things became even more wonderful.

On paper, my life is amazing. My job is going well, Bo and I are getting married in less than three months, the munchkins are doing well, and we are working toward our long-term goals as a family. I should be happy and carefree.

But I'm not.

Even in the midst of the joy of my life, I see depression creeping in, reminding me it's there. I get anxiety attacks that make me stop what I'm doing and take deep breaths to calm down.

I know there's no direct cause of it. There's no even in my life that's making me feel this way. But it's something I struggle with. I always have and I always will.

I am broken.

But it's okay because everyone is broken. And even when I'm in a dark corner and thinking that there's no way I can possibly find a way to turn around and walk into the rest of the room, I know that everyone is broken. Some people are even broken in the same way I am. And that gives me hope for myself.

I am lucky enough to have an amazing support system and a woman who loves me and takes care of me, and even wants to marry my broken self. Knowing that Bo, Puck, and Tink love me even when my broken is all I see gives me hope that I will be able to climb out of the dark corners I sometimes get stuck in. They remind me that depression lies. And that gives me hope, too.

From Allie Brosh's blog, Hyperbole and a Half

I'm planning to write more about myself on the blog. I want to talk about what makes me who I am, what's important to me, and how I'm pushing through bullshit to accomplish my personal and professional goals.

I want to show you my authentic self, and sometimes that's going to be the broken bits. But it doesn't make me any less fabulous. Because, as the Bloggess says, you can be broken and magical at the same time.

Sometimes it's hard

Sorrow (1892) by Jozsef Rippl-Ronai

We're in a state of transition here. My work is changing, Bo's work is changing, and we're gearing up for the wedding in the fall.

There's a lot going on.

So it's understandable that there have been some chaotic moments in my brain.

On the one hand, I'm fortunate enough that I've been busy enough that I haven't had to think too much about these chaotic and anxious moments. On the other hand, the busyness of my life has kept me from taking time to ground and center myself, so I feel like I'm just floating through and not really anchored to anything.

That is not good for my anxiety, and it makes it hard sometimes.

One of the challenges I face is that I'm not used to having a real support system.

I had family and friends when I was struggling before (such as during the divorce), but my experience has been that when you're really struggling and people ask how you're doing, they don't want to know the truth. Not really. They may care about you, but they don't want to be there in the way you may need them.

It was a hard lesson to learn, but I've manged to adjust. I've learned that when people ask how you're doing, the correct answer is "I'm okay."

I've gotten used to it, but sometimes it's hard.

And sometimes I'm still not used to having a real support system with people who won't stop asking how things are going because they don't want to know how I'm struggling with the same things again and again.

Lots of things are in transition right now, and that's hard.

How do you handle hard transitions?

When life is good

Sorrow (Woman by the Table, Crying Woman), 1892
Jozsef Rippl-Ronai

I've gone through a lot of changes in the past few years. Between coming out, divorcing Monty, relocating to a new state, and meeting Bo, it's been a bit chaotic in my life for quite some time.

Things are settling now, but with the lack of chaos and mini-crises to focus on, I find myself once again struggling with anxiety and, to some extent, depression.

To many who know me, it's not a secret that I struggled with depression and anxiety in high school and college, and following the births of my children. It was hard, but I was able to get the help I needed to overcome the worst of it, and I now have tools I can use to cope with these feelings when they come up again. (Because it's a lifelong struggle.)

When life is busy and chaotic, my mind doesn't have time to think about depression and anxiety. I'm too busy doing everything that needs to be done to get through each day. It's only when things settle--when life is good--that those feelings and thoughts begin to creep back into my mind.

Now that things are significantly more settled in my life--and are unlikely to drastically change in the next few years--I find myself feeling a bit more anxious. Life is good, so my head has decided to play tricks on me.

Right now the anxiety is minor, and really only in my periphery. But it's there, and I know that if I don't use the tools and support I have to head it off now, it could be much more difficult to work through later.

So now that things are less chaotic, I'll be taking the time I need for myself to take care of myself. I'll be eating better, exercising regularly, and leaning on Bo (and the rest of my support system) to remind me that depression lies.

Life is good.