This isn't my first rodeo. I've sought out counseling several times in the past. The most memorable, was after my divorce, when depression pulled me so far into it's cave I didn't know if I would ever know light again. It's odd, but I don't remember how hard it was to fight my way back to the surface, I just remember that I did.
Here I am again, back on the proverbial psych couch, but this time it's not depression, but anxiety that has me held down in claws of panic. I know I need help finding my way back to a calm place, a peaceful place, a happy place. But I forgot how much work it takes.
I'm not comfortable putting a lot of the details of this experience out into the open. Perhaps because I find it embarrassing that I can't simply reason my way out of it. I've tried. My counselor, B, has told me we will work on taking baby steps to a better place. I told her I'd like a magic pill so that *poof* I'd be "better." Judging from B's laughter, I'm not the only person who would like a quick fix.
Unfortunately, I'm going to have to go about this the hard way. Taking baby steps. B wants me to learn to ask myself "How am I feeling?" Because my anxiety is so pervasive, I've fallen into the habit of always feeling stressed, but B says I have to re-learn to recognize the other feelings that are also present.
So . . . right at this moment, I feel vulnerable, ashamed, stressed and helpless. And frustrated that I can't call B up and tell her this is a dumb assignment.
Baby steps . . . Baby steps . . . Baby steps . . .