Paranoia Strikes Deep...

Where Emma ponders rampant anxiety

Hello and welcome to the new folks, my old pals and anyone else out there! Thank you for the messages, emails and general loveliness. Especially for the birthday wishes 😘

My 16-year-old had a mini-melt down, you know the usual; school pressures, not enough hours in the day for screen time, eating, sleeping, choosing outfits, hanging with chums etc. Of course, it is all my fault. Naturally.

Halfway through this epic wobble, I was scolded for being the most anxious person on the planet.

….

Two thoughts sprung to mind:

1. Well, tell me something I don’t know!

2. Not something I’m anxious about…

Well, I bloody wasn’t!

I have always been ‘sensitive’ sometimes bordering on the ‘highly strung’ and maybe even ‘overwrought’ on occasion. But I largely built a life where I was careful with overwhelm and over-exposure, keeping anxiety to a gentle simmer.

Until I had a difficult and very anxiety-inducing marriage, and sadly the legacy of this spills into my parenting. My drive to keep the children safe and away from a potentially dangerous person has meant an overvigilant attitude. Of course, logically we can say it has served by keeping us all safe. But the consequences of this have led to a sensation of overwatchfulness. My daughter is right, it’s not that I ‘worry’ per se. It’s more than I am poised to take action should I even sniff disaster at a 100 miles away. Parkinson’s be damned I could move all four of us, the dog and pack the flat and disappear into the void in a matter of hours. I am always at the ready. Not a great background sensation to live with, I’m sure.

Two major changes have happened. Firstly, the children are now of an age where they are classified as adults (16 & 20) so are protected by age and autonomy. Secondly, I have no filter on my anxiety anymore. Thank you, Mr P. (heavy on the sarcasm here)

Once I started digging into my daughter’s concerns, it became apparent that my fear spills out everywhere. Whatever dopamine I once had - clearly held that shit in check.

The challenge is because of my lack of dopamine I also experience things in a less way - through that bizarre filter of beige-ness, apathy, a sort of flat landscape of meh. So identifying the over-the-top anxiety is hard from the inside. To everyone else, I am a gibbering wreak of nerves and worry - to me, my interest is mildly piqued.

The thing is, my smart watch tells me my heart rate goes apeshit at times, my breathing is off the scale, memory blips and I frequently feel lightheaded. All Parky symptoms, right? Also - crushing anxiety.

What to do, dear reader, what to do?

Well, I don’t know if I can rewire my brain into being less…hyper-alert. Telling myself to be less anxious is unlikely to have the desired effect.

But perhaps I can train myself to focus less on the children. Maybe I’m not so different to any parent transitioning into the adult phase. We aren’t quite at the empty nest stage but I have dedicated myself to parenthood to an intense level. I have put so much aside to ensure their growth is protected and safe that I probably need to think about my own.

In truth, when you have a degenerative illness, you do need to think about the future. The very last thing I want is to have worked so bloody hard for my kids to have safe free lives that they end up stuck nursing me!

Whilst I’m still holding on to a thread of reality, now might be the time to start.

So, here’s to letting go of umm anxiety.

with love

Exx

P.S. In a bid to plan a little for my future I am (trying) to focus more on my art, you can see it soon here.