My husband has seen me at my worst. And I am not talking about physical appearance with sweatpants and a messy bun. I could be wrong, but I think he enjoys me feeling comfortable around him in what I wear.
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My husband has seen me at my worst. And I am not talking about physical appearance with sweatpants and a messy bun. I could be wrong, but I think he enjoys me feeling comfortable around him in what I wear.
The topic of anxiety and worry is a fresh one for me. I both feel like I have something to offer on the topic, yet not because I still don't have a solid solution for handling my own worry.
But I have definitely learned a lot about how to cope with it.
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Honestly, I have been living with anxiety nearly all my life. But it wasn’t until seven years ago that a doctor finally looked me in the eye and said, “You have an anxiety disorder.”
It comes and it goes. Sometimes I will drift through life for months happily, and I feel totally normal.
Then out of nowhere, it will come back. I have often said I would rather deal with almost anything than anxiety. It is dark, lonely, and crippling.
This past Thanksgiving our oldest child had a strange episode of double vision and dizziness. At first we weren't too concerned. But after it happened three more times at school, I gave in and googled the symptoms. And the worry started to creep in.
Christmas stuff was piled everywhere. After making cheesy eggs and cinnamon rolls, and serving my brood a feast, all of my children were sprawled out on couches, talking, reading, looking at their phones, while I busily packed up Christmas treasures into boxes--by myself1
Suddenly, and I don't know where it came from, I sort of burst.