Baby steps

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 . . .