On Anxiety and Introversion

Y'all, I hate being an introvert. I want to be the person to start conversations or join in one. I hate sitting on the sidelines observing others chatting away. But that's what I am: an observer. Because of my empathy, I find it overwhelming to talk to so many people, so I observe. Because of my introversion, I am exhausted after being surrounded by a large group, but I don't mind. Because of my anxiety, I'm constantly questioning what I want to say or what I did say. I am the kind of person who will be anxious over something I said that I thought was weird for days. I will ask myself why I say or do things that can be construed as creepy or weird or annoying and chastise myself for continuing to do so. What that leaves me with is nothing to say.

This week, I have found myself in multiple situations that call upon my above flaws. I feel these things over social media as well. If I message someone that I don't have their number and they don't give it to me, I think they obviously don't want to interact with me. I will reach out to moms on Instagram and if they don't reply, I question if I came on too strong. IRL I hate walking around large groups of people basically waiting for a conversation I can join in and I just seem to be lurking. And the worst is when you're talking to someone and someone else comes to talk to them and they start having a conversation completely irrelevant to you so you just turn around and kind of disappear.

What it boils down to is my brain. That sounds weird but let me explain. My thoughts run at 160 miles/minute. As I am in these social situations, I remember times that I've embarrassed myself or heard of an embarrassing situation and I try to avoid that. I think back to 3rd grade when I was told at a sleepover that I was too loud, so I try and speak quietly. I think back to Kindergarten when I was told, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all," which I've translated to, "If you don't have something constructive to say, don't say anything." I think back to sometime in elementary school when I tried to tell my church leaders I had a wedgie but said "hickey" for some reason, and they obviously gave me a weird look. I think back to every whisper in my direction, every strange look, every denied text or turned shoulder, and I get anxious. My husband and I have a routine that when we go out, he is the ice breaker and I hit the home run. It's not that I won't talk, I'm just too nervous to start the conversation. So Stephen will introduce us, do the small talk (oh, the agony!), find some common ground which is when I step in and knock stout of the park. But he isn't home a lot so I find myself growing in situations I'm sure are a million times worse in my head, but I have no one to ground me. Another part of this feeling is this generation. We are so used to instant gratification that we freak out when someone doesn't answer our text within 5 minutes. I know my love language is Words of Affirmation, and I need people to verbally quell my anxieties and fears in order to stop them. If I make a big purchase and I'm nervous about Stephen's reaction, the minute he blows it off or justifies it, my heart stops pounding and I can breathe again. When I get verbal feedback on my work, I am always so relieved to at least know what the other person is thinking. Anytime I'm asked which superpower I would want, I always say to read people's minds. I wouldn't need to fish for verbal confirmation. I hate fishing, but I don't have the confidence to ask outright if someone could help me get a job or to tell me how my work is improving.

Even now as I type, I am wondering if I should even continue this post. I ask my self what the purpose is for typing this. Am I even going to publish it? Sometimes I just have to do it. I just have to suck it up and start a conversation. Sometimes I have to bite the bullet and make the difficult phone call (anyone else have a hard time talking to some people on the phone?). So I hope this crazy mess of word vomit can help someone somehow just know they're not alone. If anything, it was a nice venting session.

On Minimalism and Consumerism

My life has changed so much since becoming a mom. While that is probably the most obvious statement of the century, a lot of the changes were unexpected and completely surprising. I've become stronger, physically, emotionally, and mentally than I ever thought possible. I have become a lot more confident and now stand up for myself and my family in situations I otherwise would not have for fear of being called "picky" or "particular". And I have become a beginner minimalist. I say beginner because I have only just begun my journey of decluttering my life. I am so excited to share my thoughts on this subject!

I used to be such a consumer. I was an advertising agencies main audience. I would soak up whatever was trendy and desire to own it. Once I got whatever it was, I typically wouldn't use it as much as I thought I would and it would collect with my other "needs". Thinking back to my middle school self at the height of my materialism, I had so many things, but I didn't like it. I felt chaos when I went into my room, overwhelmed by things. However, I could never get rid of them. Reason 1) What if I need this someday. Maybe one day I will fix my Tamagotchi and it will be fun and trendy or worth something eventually (I wish). Reason 2) This is way too sentimental for me to ever not own. Reason 3) I wanted this so badly, so I'm just going to hang on to it because I must have wanted it for a reason. I cringe when I think of everything I could've gotten rid of. When I moved out, I got rid of a lot, but tried to hold on to everything I could. I would frequently go through things and get rid of little by little, but it wasn't until I had a baby that I realized it is impractical to hang on to a lot of things, my materialism has shattered as I've found more joy in Jesus, my husband and baby, and my church, in that order. 

I think a practical approach to view this change would be to discuss my change in interior decor. When I was in high school, I was very impressionable. I was on the cheer squad, so I had bows and long everywhere, including all over my room and walls. Posters of the Jonas Brothers were carefully hung as wallpaper. In high school, gone were the JB posters. In their place were picture frames and brand name store bags (what even!). When I got married and moved out, I embraced the South (still impressionable) and attempted the rustic look for a year and a half. Eventually I "found myself" and realized I was an eclectic bohemian gal. Our apartment was carefully curated with deep, rich tones and carefully selected pieces. When we brought Daxton home to this environment, I realized I couldn't handle the apartment the way it was. I felt like it was constantly in disarray with the dark colors making the space seem smaller. The baby gear quickly overwhelmed the space and I knew I needed a change or my anxiety would never cease. I would scroll my Instagram and spend a bit of time on profiles I found peaceful. They were scattered with whites, neutrals, wood, and beautiful greenery. I would feel calm even looking at these pictures and realized I needed to quickly bring that into my life in order to finally get a hold on motherhood or I would always be the frazzled mom who never had anything done on time. I now identify my interior style as modern bohemian. I had a real come to Jesus with my closet, my living room, and my makeup/toiletries under my sink (you know how that stuff collects!). I went through our DVD's, linen closet, hubby's closet, Daxton's closet, Daxton's toys, under our bed shenanigans (how is there SO MUCH stuff?) and was so proud at how much went to Goodwill. This was a process that lasted a few weeks. As I got rid of 20 items, I would bring in one more. Though the consumer is still alive, she is subdued. 

NOTE: This translates into baby items and clothing. I now find myself looking for timeless clothing and few mix and match pieces. I seek neutral color items and things that serve more than one purpose. I traded our old high chair for an Ikea one because it's extremely lightweight, easy to clean, and looks so much more pleasing to the eye. This doesn't mean I won't keep toys out or need my apartment to be clear of all baby gear, I just need everything to have its' place and still have enough room to stretch.

The concept of minimalism is that you find joy in freeing yourself from consumerism and materialism. I held on to so many things I thought would bring me joy, but I always remind myself that joy comes from Jesus, happiness is of the world. I know I would rather live in joy, so I get rid of things. Hubby always says he wants to help me relax by getting rid of things. I am proud of the way I tackle this task. I had a shirt in my closet that hadn't been worn in 4 yeas, but never would be donated; it was the shirt I was wearing when Hubby proposed. It was a teal lace number with a button in the back. I can't remember the last time I wore such a bold color. I knew I was literally NEVER going to wear it, so I had to tell myself that pictures will be enough and I need to part with the shirt. The freedom that came from that motivated me to get rid of 125 items from my closet. I have a long way to go, but this is a journey about focusing on the important things in life and realizing Jesus is all I need. Jesus and coffee.

http://www.theminimalists.com/minimalism/

On Becoming a Size 6

***I wrote this yesterday but was nervous to post it because a lot of people may be offended and disagree with me. I fell asleep shortly after writing. Once I slept on it, I realized this is my opinion and that doesn't make it right or wrong, just an opinion of something I did and wanted to share***

So today is the day I realized I am a size 6. My weight loss journey began when I moved to NC. I knew I was unhappy with my weight and my lifestyle, so I changed it. Upon getting married and moving across the country, I had no job and a new spouse to impress. I began to really get into creative cooking. I had more time to work out and eat proper meals. I was drinking A LOT of water. I became close to a family who changed my life and redirected me down a path of health and wellness. They welcomed me into the "organic" realm and I began to be very conscious about what I ate AND where I got it from. I have always been a runner, and I used that as an outlet for stress, restlessness, anxiety, excitement, etc. My jobs were physically demanding and without setting any goals or making any diet plans, I lost about 25 lbs and 4 dress sizes. All I did was change my lifestyle, and that is ultimately what health and wellness are about. I understand positive body image and feeling good about "the skin you're in", but if you aren't living a healthy lifestyle, that isn't okay. Bad food=bad feeling. I cannot eat fast food anymore (Chick Fil A doesn't count, obvs) because I know how crappy I will feel after (and during). And don't get me wrong, I mess up. I just had half a Coke with dinner because Stephen brought it home for me and I didn't have the willpower to dump it. But I cannot and will not lose this progress I made. It extends beyond my weight. I have found I am able to get a much better hold over my emotions and anxiety, I am happier, I have more motivation to stay active, and knowing I am in shape helps that smile stay on my face a lot longer. 

So today, when I received a gift with a pair of pants size 6, I laughed to myself, thinking I would definitely need to exchange them for a bigger size. I tried them on and they were a bit tight so I went to the store to exchange them for a bigger size. The saleswoman asked if I was sure I wanted to exchange for a size 8 (still a stretch in my mind) because I looked like a size 6. I replied I definitely need a bigger size, laughing in my head, not thinking that she sees a hundred different people a day and she might know a thing or two about sizing. She had me try on a different style in a 6 and they fit AMAZING! I got those too because they were SO comfortable! I asked another saleswoman why the other size 6 was so tight and if their sizes weren't consistent. She said it was due to  high compression in the first pair versus none in the second. I asked which she thought was more accurate, because the woman up front must still be wrong, and she said she definitely thought I was a size 6 from the start. My mind was blown. I was definitely not expecting that to happen. I left with two size 6 pants wearing a pair of size 10 shorts I realized are too big on me and I subconsciously wash in hot water to shrink them up after each wear. I didn't believe in myself at all. If it wasn't for the salespeople being so helpful and interactive, I wouldn't be feeling so successful now. After 3 years and a 10 lb baby, I am so proud of myself and I am going to use this happiness to push myself to continue my lifestyle; organic and dairy-free. We eat balanced meals and don't buy junk (anymore). I walk/run-have to build back my endurance-with Daxton and we've been swimming a lot. Carrying Daxton alone is a workout! I believe in being healthy and fit, not skinny or thin. It doesn't matter if you're a size 0 or a size 10, as long as you have a healthy lifestyle and prioritize your health and wellness, you definitely should be comfortable in your skin!

July 2012

June 2017

These aren't great comp pictures, but like I said, I didn't set out to lose weight, just live a better lifestyle. I am so comfortable in my skin now and I know it's because I am healthy, fit, and well.

"Dear friend, I hope all is well with you and that you are as healthy in body as you are strong in spirit." 3 John 1:2

On Redecorating My Life

What a year it has been! I honestly can say I have been through the ringer. I was so unprepared fro motherhood. Hubby and I have had tremendous financial issues (the latest being how much we owe in taxes, even after having a baby!). I have had to deal with having a beautiful and perfect baby away from my friends and family. My anxiety has been at an all time high and my therapist has been on maternity leave! I still haven't technically been cleared to work out again due to medical issues postpartum. Hubby and I have been tested in our marriage due to all these issues. As soon as we feel like we have made it through a storm, another comes along. I have read the book of Job twice since December, trying to make sense of the testing God is putting us through. I feel like every proclamation of faith I make brings forward another problem. I know it is the enemy trying to discourage me and my family, but how long is he going to bully me! He went after Jesus 40 days in the desert; it's been 5 months! Satan, you cannot get to me so leave me alone! I have an incredible tribe of support in the way of friends, family, and a church community straight out of my dreams. I know our lives could be so much worse. I thank God that we have a roof over our heads, running water, food in our bellies, clothes on our back, diapers on our booty (for the babe who needs them), shoes on our feet, smiles on our faces, love in our hearts, and faith in our souls. I pray everyday that Daxton knows how loved he is.

Due to these ever growing feelings and emotions, I have recognized the need to redecorate. Before baby, I was really into the boho eclectic vibe. We had really awesome pieces throughout the house and really rich color palettes. We had a beautiful duvet my mom got us for Christmas from Urban Outfitters (it's no longer listed online but its so nice) that was red and brown with hints of purple. I had red throw pillows throughout the house and sought out dark wood pieces. After baby, I needed to completely redecorate the apartment (I just need to talk about how much I love our little apartment; if I could have this layout with one extra bedroom as a house I would be so happy!). In early March, I purged the apartment. I let so many items go and I regret nothing. It felt so amazing. That weekend, we sold our dark couch and bought a white one with blue and yellow stripes. I kinda wanted to get a white slipcover, but I have really come to like it as is. We now have a white duvet cover and the beautiful one is in the trunk, waiting for a home in our future guest room. We sold the desk we had been using in our bedroom (because I didn't want to get rid of it) since we put our dresser in D's nursery for a changing table. We got a new dresser and its a beautiful mid-century modern piece with a medium wood finish. I got rid of my beloved Safavieh grey suede studded bench and found an awesome vintage leather chair my grandfather would have loved that I used to create a serene nursing corner in my bedroom. I even got rid of some books! I really need a boho minimalist feel in my home to help with my anxiety. I feel immeasurably better when I look around the house. The rich colors and large pieces made the place feel messy, even when it was clean. Now, I look around and feel a sense of peace. I am waking up in a better mood each morning. It may be a strange thing to say, but God has provided so much in this redecorating journey. The chair I mentioned fro the nursing corner was a find from Habitat for Humanity. Stephen and I went 5 minutes before closing and I spotted it right away, sat on it and said, "This is it!" I looked at the price tag and it read $10! The dresser was from our third thrift store of the day, and right as we were going to leave and call it quits, I saw it on the way out. It was only $50. I scored two wood accordion racks, one for $5 and one for $1. I have gotten so lucky with finding beautiful baskets and throw pillows. My sister bought us the most gorgeous hand woven Indian throw pillows (another Habitat find). I have realized that less is more; when Stephen and I first got married and moved in together, I was so ecstatic to begin decorating. I had never had my own place before and I had always shared a room with my sister. I finally got to do my own thing. I didn't really know what my own thing was. I tried out so many interior decorating styles and now I have finally settled. What really helped me was looking at interior design styles on Instagram. On Pinterest, once I start looking into one style, that's all they show me. On Instagram, I can browse through a diverse selection of styles. I definitely found the most joy when I would look at white, bright, natural looking places. I know that is the "in" thing and its super trendy, but I also know who it makes me feel and how it affects my anxiety. Redecorating during a rough financial time isn't easy, but I'm so frugal that I probably wouldn't have spent much more than I have anyway. I have definitely made more by selling pieces and getting lucky by finding replacement pieces that are super inexpensive. My next project is painting our chest white, but I have no idea when I will have the time! Someone please come take my baby so I can paint!

On Super Powers

I must think I have super powers; I spent today running around trying to get what felt like a million things done! We had moms group at the park, a Target trip (duh), a chiropractor appointment, a stop by the post office, and a grocery trip (mama scored on those organic deals!). After all this, we still went on a nice walk. I am so exhausted! Why do I push myself so hard like this? I really need to stop because it all hit me pretty hard today.

I had another anxiety spout. This one was similar to one I had about a week ago. It hit me out of nowhere: first I felt exhaustion, then I felt like my muscles over-relaxed, then I felt jittery and my hands were shaking. I lost my appetite and felt so tired like I could pass out anywhere. I feel like these are the after effects of a strong feeling of what Holly Golightly and I call "the reds". "The reds" are when you're afraid, but you don't know what you're afraid of. I felt like previously to this both of these anxiety episodes. Except today, I know what I was afraid of.

I love music and I love dancing. Today, D and I were listening to "From the Ground Up" by Dan + Shay. I was holding him, singing to him, and dancing around our living room with him. As I sang, I started to cry. I don't know how to watch my baby grow up. I just want to pause time and keep him in my arms forever. I hate that there is nothing I can do besides take pictures and videos to remember this moment. I feel like my anxiety makes my mind so clouded that I forget so many things! Of course I remember big things, but will I remember all the times he smiled at me, or when his eyes light up when I tell him good morning, or how he used to fall asleep on me all the time. Will I remember all the things that make him laugh? How on earth am I supposed to be happy that he is growing up if I want him to stay this age forever. As I'm typing this, he is getting older and I just want to hold him so tight as if that will make time stand still. I began to think of my childhood and how hard it must have been for my parents to watch my sister and I grow up. My parents did such a good job raising us and creating a loving home. I have such wonderful memories and I would love to tell anyone who asks about how lucky I am to have had a perfect childhood. I used to think that if I didn't have a special story or tragedy in my life that I wasn't important (thanks to shows like The Voice where EVERYONE has something to make them "different"). But I realize that I am so blessed to have grown up with both my parents and my sister in our little home. I want to give that to Daxton to and I am so scared that I will do something wrong (this is an anxiety thing and though it is nice, I do not need encouragement on this because I already know "every mom makes mistakes," and "don't be so hard on yourself," and "every family is different," etc. I am just thinking 'out loud'). I realized the immense pressure I have put on myself to try to make sure I am as good of a parent to Daxton as my parents were for me. I know she doesn't mean it this way, but when my mom says, "Well with you guys..." or "When I did __ this way...", I question and doubt myself. I have a high standard to meet and I want the best for my child. So naturally, this sent my mind into a craze imagining all that I want to give my child, and I think coming down from that caused my body to react physically. I have been dealing with the shaking hands for a while, and I realized that I really need to go back to my therapist. I made an appointment for two weeks out, so look forward to that!

Well, I am seriously emotionally exhausted from the day. D is bathed and asleep (how cute is he in this towel from Grandma and Grandpa which really brings out his eyes), so mama needs to get to sleep, too. Here's to a new day tomorrow!
-T

On God's Hidden Blessings

Daxton just turned 4 months! Lucky for us, that means a 4 month sleep regression(check out this article that explains the dreaded 4 month sleep regression https://theollieworld.com/blogs/posts/the-dreaded-4-month-sleep-regression?mc_cid=38ef263dc8&mc_eid=994caaf284)! We've never had issues with getting him to sleep through the night, though he rarely slept during the day. We have found, through trial and error, that the more D sleeps during the day, the longer he sleeps at night. Unfortunately, we are losing our minds as all that we've worked for has become obsolete due to this regression. 

For the past few mornings, I've been woken up at 5 AM to a child who just won't go back to sleep. I am 100% sure he is still tired, but he FEELS rested and won't put himself back to sleep like he used to. Now if you know me, I'm not particularly kind before 9 AM, and downright cruel before 7 AM. I find myself sobbing on these mornings, praying that God will put a peace on my baby's heart so that I could even get just ONE more hour of sleep. I set him in the DockATot in bed with me to try to squeeze a little extra shut eye. I slowly drag out the wake up process we have set so that I can snooze another 15-30 minutes any chance I get. I become so angry with God for blessing my child with such an awareness that he doesn't want to sleep and miss anything. I yell to God asking what I'm getting out of this and why I'm being spread as thin as I am. 

This morning it hit me. God is giving me more time with my sweet baby. I was feeling extremely melancholic thinking about how my boy is growing up way too fast. I was getting so emotional wondering how on earth I would be able to handle watching him grow up, knowing one day he will no longer fit in my arms. Eventually, the smell of sweat and aftershave will replace the beautiful natural scent of his hair. But for now, God is saying, "Hey, you know time is fleeting, so get off your lazy butt and kiss your baby good morning." 

Once I realized this, I busted out the camera to capture the moment. Because time is fleeting. So I got off my lazy butt and kissed the heck out of this kid. Eventually, he did go back to sleep.

-T

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On Expectations, Priorities, and Failure

For many people, before having a baby, they just think how much they want a baby. When they get pregnant, it seems much more real and tangible, but you still have no idea what to expect, and how could you. Once that babe is born, everything changes. Priorities get rearranged, house roles are shifted, expectations are revisited. All that once was may no longer be. For some things, that's good and normal, healthy even. For others, not so much. 

Jobs

Both my husband and I went through a job change. I left my job. I took a permanent maternity leave. My husband lost his job, had two months of no work, and got a new job an hour away. He's is gone one less day a week (3 instead of 4), but he's still gone 11+ hours 3 of the 4 days he is home. Now, we have to figure out how to maintain a healthy family dynamic while seeing him 1 day a week. 

House Roles

This past December, Stephen and I attended a marriage conference. One of the topics was “Relationship Roles”; how you divide the things you do between the two people in the relationship, or in a family. Before baby, Stephen handled all the bills, I did most of the laundry, and we both split chores, took out the trash, and picked up the mail. Now, I have more free time to pay some bills, I have to do most of the chores, and I pick up the mail. Stephen does most of the laundry, takes out the trash on his way to work, and still handles making sure the big bills are paid.  On top of our already established roles, there are now new roles with a baby: diaper changes, baths, making sure everything is stocked (diaper bag, changing basket in our room, diaper drawer in nursery, etc.). We’ve managed to find a natural flow that works when Stephen is home and when he is not, which is an added struggle when trying to figure out roles.

Bills

There were no shortage of people to remind Stephen and I how expensive it would be to have a baby. What these people didn’t account for was the immense support we would receive from friends and family. Though we’ve barely had to pay a penny thus far for our wee one, we still had our normal bills to pay and no income in our household to do so. We combed through our finances and found things to cut and trim. I am so grateful for that period of our lives because we got rid of so many unnecessary things which allowed us to be more present in each other’s lives. We now have hospital bills added into our budget, and we’ve just now had to buy our first pack of diapers, three months in. I am so glad we were forced to reprioritize our bills so we could live a more intentional life. 

Chores

Now that I'm not working, I've taken on all the house chores, save taking out the trash and laundry. I somehow have to manage sweeping, vacuuming, organizing, cooking, dusting, filing, and general picking up while entertaining a three month old. It isn’t easy and I find myself so overwhelmed trying to manage it all, but like everyone posts on Instagram or FaceBook, the dishes can wait in the sink a little bit longer. However, with my anxiety, I need to get things done so that I can relax, unwind, and breathe. So I’m learning balance and mega-multitasking.

Meals

Oh, Lord! Please shed light on how this can be easier! Hubby and I used to love cooking in the kitchen together! We love experimenting with food and eating well, but it is so difficult to enjoy time together in when your baby is so demanding! It also doesn’t help that most nights, Stephen isn’t getting home until between 7 and 9. We resort to rice, potatoes, and pasta so much because they are quick, easy, and bear a lot of leftovers. I’m still figuring out how to have fun in the kitchen with my babe and my little babe. Really, any advice would be nice!

Personal Time

Personal time should be a number one priority. If either momma or daddy is broken, then baby won’t be looked after the way he should. Today, hubby had off from work, so he sent me to get a pedicure while he ran errands that I had on my list. Then, he manned nap time while I purged our house for Spring cleaning. I reorganized our storage closet and I feel so much better after having a day during which I had options. Stephen travels every weekend, and while that may be really rough on our family dynamic, he is able to have time to regroup and come home ready to take on whatever challenges we present him with. We make sure to prioritize our own self-care regimens so that we can best provide for our precious baby.

Sleep

The most repetitive piece of advice I got/get is to sleep when baby sleeps. But my baby doesn’t sleep during the day. So at night, I have to choose to forego the bit of stuff I could get done or sleep. Obviously, I choose to get a bit of stuff done, so I force sleep every morning. I take Daxton out of the cradle, put the Dock-a-Tot on the bed with me, give him his paci, and we go back to sleep. I do whatever i can to make our mornings as lazy as possible, so we can enjoy each other’s company and share smiles and cuddles. 

Relationship

When you have a baby, often times your relationship with your partner goes by the wayside. Life gets hard, a lot of things change, feelings become so overwhelming, anxiety grows, pressures mount, and expectations aren’t met. An incredible amount of couples end up separating after having a baby (a statistic I’m not going to look up) because they aren’t putting in the time they need to into that relationship anymore. Between work, caring for a baby, and life in general, the relationship with your partner gets put in the backseat and that makes each person feel uncared for and unappreciated. It is so important to not let your life be overcome by your baby. Your life isn’t just baby! I am a mom, but I am also a wife, daughter, sister, and friend. I love my baby, but I refuse to let motherhood define my life. My husband is important, my mother and father and sister are important, and it is important to learn to balance all these relationships rather than disregard them. 

Becoming a mom is definitely one of the hardest, scariest, most exciting things I’ve ever done, along with getting married and moving my life across the country. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but it took a while for me to be able to appreciate what I have and to figure out what works for our family. It;s okay that it took a while, because we got to figure it out as a family.

-T

On Other People With My Baby

Everyone loves babies! Even the coldest person's heart will melt when a baby giggles and coos. But just because everyone loves babies and wants to see or play with them, doesn't mean I'm obligated to allow it. Now I may be the one to sound cold by not putting on a show anytime someone says, "Oh! A baby!", but I know I make a valid point and I hope others will agree. 

First things first, I have GAD, or Generalized Anxiety Disorder. This will manifest itself in many ways and different times, and not every situation is created equal. Growing up in LA, I was very much used to going somewhere, getting done what had to be done, and moving on my way. Git. 'Er. Done. But in the South, there is a completely different way of getting things done. A 20 minute LA Target trip may equal a 40 minute Southern Target trip, once you account for letting people park ahead of you, nodding to the cart guy, waving to the car letting you cross, saying hello to at least two other customers who you may or may not know, completing a conversation with your checkout clerk, and passing your cart to someone else coming in or putting it in the cart return, rather than leave it in the middle of the parking spot next to you. My social anxiety is on red alert every time I go out, and it's a bit higher with a baby. If I seem to be moving quickly and as if I don't have time, it's probably best not to stop me and try to rally me into a conversation. 

Second, if I look like I'm struggling and you want to help, then that would be awesome. But the way to help is NOT asking if I need you to hold my baby. This is not just a "first time mom" thing. This is a Stranger Danger thing. Do I believe that my neighbor is going to run off with my kid. Well, it's highly unlikely, but I'm definitely not going to roll the dice on that one. If someone reeks of cigarette smoke, I'm not going to judge you, but I'm not going to let you hold my kid either. And if you've just walked up to me out of nowhere, why on Earth would I just hand over my baby to load groceries! I can do about a million things with just one hand, so please don't "offer" to hold my baby.  

Third, small talk has never been my forte. As I said earlier, I'm a person who gets stuff done. I always have a million things to do and NEVER enough time to do them all. When people try to make small talk, my mind is already thinking of a million other more productive ways to spend my time. I don't have to sit in the middle of the frozen aisle listening to you tell me about how much caring for a baby has changed. I really would rather spend those 5 minutes of you repeating how beautiful his eyes are or how big he is on something like completing my grocery list so I can get him home for nap time. And what am I supposed to do when you tell me what is best for my child under the guise of "advice". Please be respectful of my time and my child's schedule and don't follow me around the store because I won't stop to listen to you. 

Fourth, of my baby is covered, it's for a reason. He's either cold, or it's too sunny, or he's sleeping, or I want him to sleep. I don't think it's polite to ask someone to lift the cover so you can see. If you say, "Oh, a baby!"  I'm invited to ask you if you would like to see, but I have no obligation to let you see my baby. Too often people have asked, and it constantly baffles me. I have never and would never ask a mom to do something that could potentially make her uncomfortable or annoyed. If my baby is covered, leave him be. 

Also, please, please, please do not remind me how quickly my son is going to grow up! I am very aware that my days with him as a baby are limited, and you drawing attention to that does the opposite to help that situation and makes me super emotional. Every morning, I stare at my son in melancholy knowing that all too soon, he will be too big for me to hold on my hip or to pull into the nook of my arm. Every morning, I fight tears because I don’t want him to grow up and deal with the terrors of the world, but to stay young and sweet and innocent forever. Please do not bring those emotions to the surface, because there is a strong possibility I will start crying, and being your fault, you will have to deal with it. 

Kids: you gotta love ‘em, you gotta have ‘em, but you also tend to get annoyed of them. My husband and I just went to a restaurant to eat tonight. Being a Wednesday, kids ate free. We immediately regretted our decision to visit on a Wednesday night, which is unfortunate because it is really our only night for date night. There were kids yelling at my baby, kids running into our car seat Daxton was sitting in, kids trying to touch Daxton, and kids just all around getting involved in ways they really shouldn’t. Yes, I know my baby is adorable and I also am aware that he looks like such fun to play with, but it is disrespectful to do so without permission. “But they’re just kids, they don’t know any better!” You’re right! It is the job of their parents or present caregiver to teach them respect as it pertains to their self and others. I will always make sure my son is completely respectful of all people to the best of his ability. If a child came up to me and said, “Oh, your baby looks so sweet, can I say hi?”, my heart would melt of joy and happiness. I would feel so respected and my heart would be touched. Of course I would say yes! But when a child just comes up and yells, “BABY!” to my son, I will roll my eyes in annoyance and think that his parents really need to teach him a thing or two about respect.

Finally, I have nicknames for Daxton; my husband has nicknames for Daxton. If you hear us call him something, WE ARE NOT INVITING YOU TO AS WELL. There are the typical nicknames like "Bubba" or "Dax" that are obvious for everyone to call him. My husband sometime calls him "Bug". One time, someone else called Dax "Bug", and it really hurt poor hubby's heart because it was no longer just their thing. I call Dax "Chunks" because, well, he's a chunka chunk. If everyone started calling him Chunks, it would stick and I really don't want him being called "Chunks" when he's 18. The biggest one is "Mr. Sweetface". I know, super cheesy, but my husband and I were OBSESSED with Jane the Virgin, so we stole it from there. But it's ours and it's special and one day, when he goes off to college or gets married, I'll call him "Mr. Sweetface", and he'll get annoyed and whine, "Mooooom!" That is ours and I would appreciate that it stays that way. 

I know I just complained this whole post. I stood on my soapbox and had my moment. All I'm asking for is the same respect I've always given moms and that moms should always receive. A mom usually knows what is best for her baby, and for the most part, the family dynamic needs to be respected and is not public business. So please, don't disrespect me. 

-T

On Mommying Through Anxiety, Depression, and Introversion

It's no secret that I have anxiety. I have dealt with this all my life, but it wasn't until recently that I learned how to control it instead of letting it control me. I spent my entire pregnancy in therapy, mentally preparing myself for the crazy adventure ahead. I have known mothers who have dealt with issues similar to mine. Some have stayed strong and overcome their obstacles. Many have given in and let their issues steal some of their joy in many forms. I'm going to share my story and hopefully it all comes together in a cohesive way that I can actually post this!

Confidence
Anxiety is my biggest issue. It has caused me to doubt myself all my life. My confidence has always been threatened and I have the hardest time making decisions of any caliber. I literally wrote (tried to write) a song in high school with the line "Confidence is something/ Of which I know nothing". I battled depression my sophomore year of high school. I began gaining weight and was really hard on myself. Because of my self-doubt, I am an introvert. Once I gain enough confidence in a situation, I will be the life of the party, but getting there is always a battle.

Prioritize Self Care
In order to be a mother who could balance my issues and raise my child successfully, I would have to make myself a priority. I need sleep, I need to eat, I need to self-soothe, I need to read, and I need "me time". I know what I need to do to help keep the anxiety monster lurking in the shadows. Beyond self care in terms of hygiene, you need to care for your emotions, mental well-being, and your soul. I find the best ways to do this are meditation, studying my Bible, blogging, and cuddling my baby every morning.

Surround Yourself with Support
From the beginning of my pregnancy, I started thinking of women in my life I wanted to influence me in my parenting. I have a solid group of women I can contact if I need emotional support or someone to keep me accountable for breastfeeding. I am honored and lucky to have been a nanny to a family in which the mother was such a positive influence and is still a wonderful support. One of my closest friends was an OB nurse and suffered through me constantly texting and calling with a gazillion questions about the health of my child, but she never left me hanging. My own mother is my rock and created for me a wonderful influence from the beginning of my life. As a devoted and adoring mother, I know the kind of pure love I can give and I will always call upon my mom in hard times.

Stay Busy
I mean, you know yourself and what you will benefit from, but I find that if I don't sit on my couch all day and make it a point to get out with Daxton, I feel so much more successful and productive. When I'm on the go, I'm not thinking about my anxiety or depression. Every time someone coos or sees at Dax, it reminds me how joyful it is to be a mom. Every time someone asks how he's doing, I jump at the chance to brag how he is sitting up, sleeping through the night, and growing so strong! Daxton loves going out and exploring with me. It's so wonderful to create these memories together.

Be Lazy
I know I just said to stay busy, but balance your life! Every morning, D and I spend about an hour cuddling in bed. He practices sitting, he will lay in the nook of my arm, we hold hands, we play and laugh. It gets me excited to wake up in the morning! If you know me at all, you know that I am the furthest possible opposite of a morning person. The Lord doesn't bless me until about 9:00 AM. But allowing myself time to devote to doing nothing but spending lazy time with my son is such a blessing (#blessed). Many more moments to treasure!

Binge Watch/Read
Sometimes, you can't quell the beast. Know when to check out. I HATE checking out, but when I nurse, I will binge a show (currently Friends!) and allow myself some time to relax and not think about anything difficult. If I'm nursing at night, I'll read on my phone (The Chemist is SO good!) so that I can stay relaxed in the dark and focus my mind on one thing so it doesn't go wandering. Also, if anyone deals with difficulty falling asleep because of a wandering mind, I listen to movie scores and classical music so that I can focus on the instruments and let my mind drift to the music. It works!

Sleep!
I know we've all heard it a million times, but sleep when baby sleeps. I need to CONSTANTLY remind myself. Since Dax doesn't sleep too much, I don't get too much done. When he does sleep, I think of all the things I want to do, but if I don't get enough sleep, my forces wear down and the anxiety can become too overwhelming to keep in. Anxiety needs sleep!

Let Go
Sometimes, you can't help it. Literally just this night, I had a small incident. Long story short, I slammed the bathroom door in my husband's face and he was holding my son. I felt like a monster. I fell to the bathroom floor and wailed. I couldn't show my face to my son. I felt like he would hate me. It didn't help that he was crying. I knew I had been too strong for too long and I just let it out. I went out and held Dax and apologized and put him to sleep. I discussed with my husband that I'm not the type of person who needs to be calmed during those times. I'm capable of calming myself, and I'm aware of how crazy I'm being. If I'm given my space, I can get over it and move on.

It's so incredibly important to figure out what works for you and your family. Whether you're a mom or a dad, discuss with your partner what your needs are and how you can help each other. So often, we think we know our partners needs, but it's okay if we don't. We just need to remember that our partners are there to help us out. Communicate and you're golden!

-T

On the Anxieties of Motherhood

I have come to the realization that motherhood is nothing but a series of small-large panic attacks in between periods of wondering when the next panic attack is going to hit. For someone with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, this is my constant battle. I know my triggers and I know how I should react, but my focus is so easily moved from my own mental health so that I can prioritize the needs of my baby. I forget that my babies number one need is a healthy momma, physically, mentally, and emotionally. There are so many things that a new mom experiences that will set off an anxiety attack.

Uncontrollable Crying
It happens to every baby and new parent. Every new parent has to learn their child's unique needs and how baby shows his needs are not being fulfilled. But what about when you run through "the list" and still have a fussing kid. "The list" is as follows: is baby hungry, dirty, too warm or too cold, gassy, or tired? If you've answered no to all these and your baby is still a wreck, it's pretty easy to become a wreck yourself. Thoughts like, "I don't know what my child needs. I must be a terrible mother," or "Why can I not understand my own child" will cross your mind. You begin to panic because you realize you must have missed a cue and you don't know what to do, but you know you have to do something. So you cry, or yell, or stomp about. Instead, run through "the list" again because you probably forgot something. If that doesn't work, give your partner or a family member a turn trying to figure out what's wrong and walk into another room. I always think of something when I take a step back.

Judgement
This is SUCH a hard one for me. I struggle with allowing myself to feel judged and not caring what anyone thinks. Almost everyone has an opinion about babies. There is something people want to tell you about breastfeeding, or sleep, or diapering, or development, or parenting styles. Either you're holding your baby too much or not enough, or you're feeding him too much or not enough, or you take him out too much or not enough. If I have my baby out in public and he starts crying, I automatically look at how people react, how they judge me. It's torture for myself and completely unnecessary, yet somehow I can't help it. I always said I don't want to be the parent with the loud, annoying, disturbing baby. And tbh, his cry isn't that loud or annoying...it's actually really cute, but I don't really think the person behind me in line at Target or sitting on the bench in the shopping plaza agree. Instead of worrying so much about what others think, I know I should be focused on how I get to make my own parenting choices now and take pride in that. Obviously that's easier said than done.

Breastfeeding
I just wrote a whole post about this one(http://rosemaryandjames.blogspot.com/2017/01/on-what-no-one-tells-you-about.html). Case in point; breastfeeding is the toughest part of being a new mom and will naturally cause a ton of anxiety. I have to say at least half of my meltdowns have been somehow related to breastfeeding. It may not be fun, but it is worth it. When breastfeeding feels like too much, I remind myself that God gave me this ability to provide for my son like no one else can and to not take advantage of it. I don't want to do anything but cherish this time where he needs and wants what only I can give him. Breastfeeding my baby is such an important and special thing that it is important to look at it in a positive light no matter what. I am open and honest with my husband about all my feelings so that he can help me the best he can.

Big Mistakes
I don't want to write about this, mostly due to the "Judgement" section above, but I've made some pretty bad mistakes. I have dropped my phone on his head while he's nursing, almost dropped him while switching sides, and poured too water on his head in the bath that it got all over his face. In those moments, I feel like the absolute worst person on the planet. I feel incapable of raising a child. In those moments, I just hold him and cry and apologize over and over and over. Not that there is anything wrong with apologizing and loving on my babe, I need to also realize that I'm not perfect, and if I truly wasn't capable, God wouldn't have blessed me with a perfect, beautiful, healthy baby boy he deemed me worthy of caring for. If God thinks I am capable, then so should I.

Lists
It's unavoidable. As I sit still nursing, unable to get anything done, I look around the room and come up with lists of things that have to get done. The more I come up with, the more anxious I feel. I never know when I'll get enough free time to actually get anything done. But 100%, I need to focus on my new baby rather than the things that aren't getting done. If the house isn't swept or laundry isn't done, then we will breathe in a little dust and sit around the house without clean clothes for a day. I know that time with an infant is fleeting. Already my LO is almost 8 weeks old, and I cannot believe how quickly time has progressed. I will never be able to get these days back, so I need to be thankful that sweeping isn't so dire that we will all die if it doesn't get done.

Doubt
Self-doubt has been my biggest enemy. Bits of self-doubt have seeped into every aspect of my role as a new mother, and sought to steal my joy in this wonderful time. Anytime I falter, a voice deep in my head tells me I'm doing something wrong or that I don't know what I'm doing. Those moments cause temporary insanity while I try and mentally fight this voice and maintain the exterior of a positive, healthy momma. The best way to combat this is to surround yourself with people you can trust and confide in and to be honest with them. I have some great friends who reassure me I'm doing a great job and that I am capable.

Fear
There are so many things to be afraid of. From SIDS to cancer, to a car stopping too quick just in front of you when your LO is in the back, anything can get you or your child and you have absolutely zero control over that. There are precautions to take, like ensuring your child isn't surrounded with bumpers, blankets, and pillows at night, or living organic to avoid carcinogens and toxins (http://rosemaryandjames.blogspot.com/2016/03/on-living-organic.html), and making sure you have the highest rated and safest car seat possible. Ultimately, God is in control. He will decide when we all live and die and all I can do is try to live my life to fulfill His purpose for me. Proverbs 19:21 reads "Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand"(ESV). As long as I remember to focus on that verse, I can work my way out of any panic attack.

Anxiety
Anxiety causes anxiety. Just yesterday, my little nest was driving home, and Daxton was crying uncontrollably. My husband pulled over into a fire station so I could try to calm the baby. We happened to be out of diapers, he was too dirty to be hungry or sleep, and we were still 10 minutes from home. I literally could do nothing to console my baby and I felt such anxiety that I couldn't move past it and instead, became upset and took it out on my husband. When I got home, I cried over Daxton and apologized that I couldn't help him, then I apologized to my ever-loving husband for having such a bad reaction. Sometimes, when you know you're acting a wreck, you get crazier. Instead, own up to your bad attitude and throw a wrench in the cycle. I promise wonderful results.

-T

On Bonding With Your Babe

Reluctantly, I will admit that I am having a very hard time bonding with my baby. We have had seven weeks together, and I can count on one hand the times I have looked at him and realized that he is mine and been able to believe it. It truly saddens me that I feel like my child is a stranger to me after all this time. After so many months(let's be real...years) of anticipation, I was overeager to meet my little man. I would imagine him swinging in his swing while I put away his laundry. I dreamt of a strong, healthy boy who I would be excited to show off to all my family and friends. I never thought I would experience anything but a euphoric excitement and overwhelming joy looking at my tiny bundle. But many moms don't feel this way. Many new moms experience a lack of that bonding feeling, or maybe a sudden fear of everything, or maybe even baby blues. But after so much time waiting, the reality is much more anti-climactic than the dream.

From the beginning, my LO went against everything I had prepared for. He came a few days past his due date, despite my best efforts to help him make an early appearance. He weighed 10 pounds, while I was praying for no more than 8. And he looks EXACTLY like my husband. During my pregnancy, I imagined a little boy who looked like my husband, and that is exactly what I hoped for, but having it actually happen is a lot less rewarding than I expected. From the first pictures that went out of baby until just this morning at the doctor's office, I have been told no less than 200 times that my son is the spitting image of his father. So where does that leave me? I am an olive-skinned Hispanic woman who birthed a white baby with light hair and blue eyes. If there is anything to make you feel disconnected from your child, its definitely not looking anything like him.

How do you bond with your baby? It seems impossible to get to know someone when there is a communication barrier. As someone with strong communication skills, I get easily annoyed that I cannot communicate to my child. That doesn't stop me from trying, though. Breastfeeding is the one thing I can provide for him that no one else can. This is the time that him and I have to spend time just the two of us. Unfortunately, breastfeeding has not been the easiest thing, and getting frustrated is not how I imagine spending our quality time. We play, we read, we do tummy time, we snuggle and it gets better everyday. It really helps when he's fussy and calms when I hold him. Next on our list of activities/attempts to bond: yoga!

After spending this past year in therapy, I have become much more mature emotionally. I am better able to control, manage, and process my feelings and emotions. Because of that, I have not experienced anything more serious than bonding issues. However, if you have, just make sure to openly and honestly communicate your feelings to someone. It is common to feel a bit blue after baby. There is no shame in that if you handle the situation correctly and as soon as possible. If you feel like causing harm to yourself or your baby, please seek help, if not from a professional, than confide in your partner or someone you trust.

-T

On Bringing Up Bebe

Lately, I haven't been posting much to my blog, and that saddens me. When I began this blog page, I wrote that I would post whenever inspiration hit and unfortunately, that hasn't happened much. I apologize for the sloppy posts the past few months, but I have found inspiration in a coffee shop--like all legendary writers--and I will try my best to exhume my name like a phoenix from the ashes.

During my pregnancy, I did not read "What To Expect When You're Expecting". I did not get a subscription to Parents magazine, nor did I spend an excessive amount of time looking up pregnancy issues and complications. I did not make this a research assignment to become the best mom I could be. Honestly, I was very confident in my abilities from the beginning. I have worked with children all my life and I always knew I was meant to be a mother. I have had plenty of practice with children of all ages and stages, and most recently, my position as a nanny has prepared me for everything! I was given a devotional from a friend and that was the only publication I cracked open to prepare me for motherhood; the only one until I heard about the memoir by Pamela Druckerman "Bringing Up Bebe".

The book "Bringing Up Bebe" is the account of an American mother, Druckerman, who moved from New York with her British husband to Paris. She saw a vast difference in the behaviors of American and French parents and children and began a journey to delve deeper into the varied characteristics of each party. While the writing style is an easy read, you can tell the author put work into her studies. She has a large pool of people who were interviewed, a series of notes at the end of the book dictating where much of her statistical information came from, and the period of time that is covered is quite a few years. There has been a decent amount of controversy behind this book, but that is nothing new. In college, I wrote a paper on the lack of French children that have ADD/ADHD versus the massive amount of American children who are diagnosed with ADD/ADHD. While completing my research, I was thrown into the black hole of cultural parenting styles. I was very intrigued and decided I was very much NOT the typical "American parent". When I heard about this book, you better believe my interest was piqued and I went straight to Barnes and Noble to make my first parenting book purchase.

Now, y'all know by now I have anxiety. This leads me to do silly things like obsess over reviews of books, movies, baby items, foods, technology, and whatnot (literally, what not). You can bet that even though I bought the book, I still looked up reviews and articles and blog posts pertaining to this book. I came across such varying opinions, and so strongly worded. Many American parents were offended, and many French parents quickly spoke up that Druckerman's portrayal of French parenting was inaccurate. You could not imagine my excitement to read this book the more I read these reviews.

Three months later and I am now 75% done with the book (definitely the most time I have EVER spent reading a book); I definitely appreciate this text. I feel that Druckerman does a fair job of pointing out that what she sees is not true of all families of all cultures, rather in her experience, the consensus is what she writes. I also feel that Druckerman hits on a lot of American parenting issues, which as an American, I agree with. Again, I have a ton of childcare experience and I have seen basically every type of parent. I have been in situations that seem only possible in a comedy film, and I have been in situations that make me truly weep for a child. I have also been in situations where I am astounded by a parent's skill and beg me to teach me their ways. I feel that I have built up enough research to be able to respond to Druckerman's experiences. This is what I have been inspired to do. There are a lot of issues Druckerman brings up from either culture (realize she mainly focuses on French and American parenting because that is where her experiences come from) that I would like to respond to. My poor husband is so tired of me consistently jumping on my soapbox and preaching my points of view in response to Druckerman. I pray that I can use this platform as an arena to share my opinions and perhaps begin a healthy, kind, dialogue about parenting styles. Or maybe I won't and I will move on from this book and find something else to be inspired by! Stay tuned...

-T

On Anxiety and Emotional Maturity

ANXIETY DOES NOT LIKE TO BE WRITTEN DOWN!

A celebratory post because I have officially been clinically diagnosed with anxiety (GAD). This is a big deal because I had been self-diagnosed until this point and it was important to me to justify my worries with a doctor's word. Even though I'm pregnant, that anxiety is different than the hormonal bouts of emotions I experience, and I am AWARE of the difference.

My therapist commends me for my emotional maturity and awareness. She often tells me what would normally be a revelation, and then finishes her thought with "...but I'm sure you figured that out already." What that means is that I know what causes my anxiety attacks and how to take preventative measures to ensure that I have less worries and more joy, but I still can't stop the emotional overload I face daily. If you've ever experienced an earthquake, you know what this feels like; knowing what is going on, but being completely powerless to stop it. Some "earthquakes" are stronger than others and no matter how hard you will it to be over, it isn't up to you. Maybe that sounds really scary, like for some dads in the birthing room knowing your wife is in immense pain and there is nothing you can do. Or perhaps you find the knowledge that there is nothing you can do to change the circumstances is calming and you just have to wait it out. In my personal experience, it's both calming and frustrating.

There was an instance a few weeks ago when my poor husband and I laid in bed in the morning while I had a minor panic attack. We were supposed to go to an 8 hour birthing class with 16 other couples thirty minutes away for $60, but I truly didn't see how I would actually be able to go. I am AWARE that I had not been getting much sleep in the days leading up this class, which leads me to have higher emotional and anxiety levels. I also was AWARE that being pregnant causes higher hormone levels--aka more worries and stresses aka higher anxiety. I was AWARE that my social anxiety would be WAY turned up due to the 16 other chipper pregnant women wanting to discuss cloth diapers vs disposable and what our son's name is and what type of crib we had decided on (which at that point wasn't even assembled). On top of these three emotional enhancements, my MIL was visiting, I didn't know when we would be eating that day, and it was my day off, which I truly cherish! The last point to make me not want to go was that in today's technologically advanced world, I could easily look up whatever information I need online; I was AWARE that taking a class could lead me to be more anxious when I was actually delivering, trying to remember the specific breathing exercise I learned and how to feel when to push and feeling overwhelmed trying to remember everything I learned.* I knew I didn't need it, but I still felt that since we had made the commitment, we needed to follow through. I also felt that maybe I was setting myself up to be the flaky mom who didn't care enough about her child's well being. I laid in bed crying because I knew I shouldn't go, but I also knew I would be judged if I didn't, by society and by myself. With the hubs gone every weekend, we wouldn't have another chance to take this class; it was now or never. Hubs was very understanding and after listening to all my reasons for going or not going and reading the class description, he said, "I think what is best for us right now is that we don't go." At that point, I realized I had been completely incapable of making the decision myself and I would have had a full out panic attack just contemplating whether I should go or not. What a freaking nightmare!

I was fully aware that I was having a minor attack while it was happening, but I couldn't talk myself out of it. I felt my mind racing with my thoughts and emotions. I told myself that I was being irrational and overreacting, but I couldn't stop it. I felt the storm inside of me, but it was completely beyond my control. The worst part about being emotionally aware and having anxiety is the guilt that comes after an irrational reaction or an attack. I felt terrible for dragging my husband through my emotional mud puddle. I felt so guilty for not being able to control myself and almost submitting myself to an anxiety attack that definitely would have not been good for my growing baby. I felt guilty explaining our choice to our friends and fmamily, though I know I shouldn't. Amidst feeling all this guilt, it was further felt by simply knowing I shouldn't be feeling that way.

(continued 2 weeks later because I'm too busy for my own good)
Decision making is rough y'all! After speaking to my therapist, I realized that my anxiety doesn't allow me to find a middle ground. Though I see it and encourage it in the lives of others, adopting and implementing it into my own doesn't work out. When I was young, I heavily weighed every decision I made, whether the decision merited such contemplation or not. I now find myself doing this in deciphering which career path would make me the happiest. It is for this reason I was incapable of making a decision in the aforementioned scenario.

So I guess my purpose, other than venting, for writing this post is that I think it is so important for the who have anxiety to acknowledge that they sometimes are incapable of making a decision so that they can find someone to help them when they need it. For me, my husband and my mother are typically the people I call upon when I need help making a decision. They will either tell me I am overthink a situation or give me advice that may help guide me to a final answer. Also, those of you who have a person in your life who has anxiety, know that they don't TRY to make life more difficult when they can't make a decision. Every decision they make takes so much energy, time, and effort, that at a certain point, it is someone else's turn to stand up and take the reins. Good luck to all you decision makers!

-T