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anxiety

Living With Emetophobia

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For as long as I can remember, I have had emetophobia. Emetophobia is classified as ‘a phobia that causes overwhelming, intense anxiety pertaining to vomiting. This specific phobia can also include subcategories of what causes the anxiety, including a fear of vomiting in public, a fear of seeing vomit, a fear of watching the action of vomiting or fear of being nauseated.’

And, for as long as I can remember, people have said things like “yeah, I don’t like vomit either.” Except, that isn’t it. That isn’t it at all.

Recently ScaryMommy shared a blog post regarding parenting with emetophobia. I immediately tagged everyone I knew in the comments as if to say “here. read this.”

It’s brought up a lot of dialogue in many circles. I’ve had to explain to people all of the ways this affects me — every. single. day. And I think it’s truly difficult for people to understand, so I figured I’d write about what it’s like living with emetophobia — the little things and all.

Here are some things that go through my head on a daily basis:

  • I have to sit at the window seat of an airplane, but not because I want to see out of the window. I just want to be furthest from the aisle — in case someone gets sick.

  • If I’m going to the movies, I’m always thinking about the potential for the people around me to throw up.
  • I cannot hear the word ‘puke.’ It is awful. I will always refer to it as vomit; and if I hear someone say puke several times I will politely ask them not to.
  • If someone (my kids, other peoples kids, anyone really) even looks like they are not feeling well, I will ask them over and over and over again if they have a belly ache.

  • Every place I go — whether it be the grocery store, preschool drop-off, using a public restroom, going out to dinner — the fear of someone getting sick or being sick is on my mind. Always.
  • In fact, if I’m somewhere and I hear that someone elses family member is sick/has been sick recently (even if they are not present), it will induce a serious anxiety — often resulting in me wondering if I’m starting to feel sick.

  • I carry Clorox wipes with me and use them far too frequently. I specifically keep them for shopping carts, but I do not trust hand sanitizer because it does not fight the germs that cause the stomach bug. You know what does? Bleach. Bleach will kill it. So I carry these bleach wipes with me just in case.

There is not a day that goes by where I do not think about my emetophobia. During the depths of ‘sick season,’ I can often be found with severe anxiety for days. It’s absolutely unhealthy.

ScaryMommy really summed it up with this:

Unlike many fears, emetophobia can easily affect a person’s everyday life and eventually become totally debilitating. Emetophobes are essentially afraid of their own body, and there’s no getting away from the possibility of getting sick. Anyone, at any time, could be carrying around a contagious stomach virus and not know it. Any food could be contaminated with food-borne illness. Most of us live our lives understanding those lingering possibilities, but don’t give them a second thought. And even if we do, we’re able to brush it off quickly.

My anxiety medicine certainly helps curb some of this; but the fear itself is deep-rooted in who I am. I will never be free of it — I just have good days and bad days. But please, please, keep in mind that people like me do exist — and there are far more of us than you likely know.

And their simple request for you to refrain from saying a word or talking about vomit does not go unwarranted — remember it may truly be causing them trauma unbeknownst to you.

It’s Okay To Feel Overwhelmed at Christmas

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Oh, Christmas! The most wonderful time of the year! I’ve said it before — I absolutely love the way my children light up at the mere mention of Santa. All of the magic that I see through their eyes translates into the happiest of feelings for me.

But there’s a side to Christmas that is less talked about. And that’s the overwhelming feeling of all of it.

I’m not one to easily shy away from hustle and bustle. Friends regularly tell me that they cannot believe how packed my schedule is and how many fun little outings I regularly take my children on.

But Christmas can be daunting in a different way…

There are parties. There are events. There is shopping. But I think the underlying issue is that there are so many things I have to be “on” for. See, as much as I am a people person, I also much prefer the laid back nights. Even if those laid back nights still include going out with my family; just not going out with my family to a big event — where we’re expected to be there for hours at a time and my conversation ‘game face’ has to be on.

Don’t get me wrong — I’m great at conversation! Fantastic, mostly! But I thrive on conversations that are lacking in substance but full of laughs. Where it gets tricky? Small talk. Lots of small talk with people I see infrequently. It gives me anxiety.

Oh — and germs. Why, why, why, why, DEAR GOD WHY, does flu season fall right in the middle of the holidays!?! It feels like a cruel joke.

So, like many people, my emotions and moods are a constant roller coaster during the holidays; the neverending highs and lows of the joy of wonder, mixed with the simple exhaustion of the season.

And you know what? That’s okay. 

It’s okay to decline plans or parties because it isn’t healthy for you and/or your family. 

It’s okay to bundle up on the couch and watch Christmas movies instead of hitting up that ugly Christmas sweater party.

It’s okay to not always be jolly and happy. 

Heck! It’s okay to be flat out exhausted by all of it! 

Give yourself permission to feel what you’re feeling. Don’t be even harder on yourself — especially this time of year.

Remember: The holidays are about finding joy with your family — you do not owe anyone else anything!

 

PS. Things are going to be quiet for me for the next few days, but I’ll regularly be updating my Instagram stories — so make sure you’re following me on Instagram! 

Anxiety and Kids: 5 Things I Am Doing To Raise Better Humans.

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I’ve been really struggling lately (hence, the quiet around these parts…). One of the reasons is because I have anxiety, and sometimes that anxiety rears it’s ugly head at inopportune times. My last serious bout of anxiety was in the wake of Remy Bea’s birth. But lately I’ve been paralyzed with a different kind of anxiety — the anxiety of the worst case scenarios. 

See, nothing in particular has been going wrong. In fact, things have been going pretty well. Most days, very well.

Until recently. 

Recently I’ve been worried about all of the horrible things that could potentially happen. And that? That is not at all helpful or healthy. Mostly related to the kids, because one of the many things that having children has done to me is to make an already anxious person more anxious — specifically when it comes to their safety.

And the events of yesterday sent me into a bit of a tailspin.

See, I am one of those people that regularly DOES worry about mass-shootings. Every time I enter a building, with or without my kids, I look for the exits. Every time I go to a sporting event, I hold my breath. Every time I sense someone may be following me through a store, I am on high alert.

It’s just ingrained in my DNA. And I don’t know how to change it.

The root of my anxiety stems from an early childhood experience involving the murder of my grandfather. From then on, I was acutely aware of the randomness of violence. Hence, I’m terrified of being anywhere… ever.

And, since yesterday, I can’t help but feel my anxiety bubbling up from the surface even more than before.

I held my babies closer over the last 24 hours. I don’t know how to stop the hate and violence. I don’t know what to do about the state of affairs. I just… I just don’t know what to do on a larger scale.

But here’s what I can do:

  1. I can teach my children to love everyone, regardless of race, religion, or country of origin.
  2. I can teach them to have an understanding of all cultures and the importance to never “other” someone.
  3. I can teach them to live by the Golden Rule. Do good, be good, see good.
  4. I can show them what empathy looks like. I can show them that you don’t have to know a person to show love.
  5. I can teach them to always be aware of their surroundings (something that I’m eternally grateful that my parents taught me from a young age).

But we still need to do better. As humans, we need to be better. So I encourage you to please talk to your children about people who are different from them; Teach them that every person and every story is valuable; and talk to them about what to do in an emergency. And always tell your babies how much you love them. Always. ♥ ♥

 

*Disclaimer: I realize the motives of this terrorist from Las Vegas are not yet known. I do, however, believe that most hate comes from a place of not seeing things from another person’s point of view.

WHEN THE FOG CLEARS // Finding a way through postpartum depression

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I’ve never shied away from talking about my struggles with postpartum depression and anxiety. In fact, while I was pregnant with my first child, Ari (now 4.5), I had a sneaking suspicion that I would be one of the 600,000 women in the United States each year to develop Postpartum Depression (PPD). I felt… prepared. Because, well, I had acknowledged is likelihood.

But, honestly, nothing can prepare a new mother for the darkness of Postpartum Depression and Anxiety.

With Ari, it developed swiftly. I knew something was off shortly after he was born. I just didn’t feel that connection you’re supposed to have with your newborn baby. Couple that with being attached to the breast pump every 2.5-3 hours and then bottle-feeding? It felt like torture.

I also found myself giving in to the desires of everyone else. Specifically, I opened up our home to many visitors almost every day. Instead of trying to bond with my new baby and figure out our new lives, I was entertaining and handing off my new son for photo-ops.

I ended up crying in my OBGYN’s office just a few weeks postpartum. He offered me alternatives — therapy, supplements, the works. But eventually we settled on going on an antidepressant. I just really needed to function again.

And for me? It worked. I settled into a routine; we adjusted; and my hormones eventually evened out.

Fast forward a few years. (Note: I stayed on the anti-depressants because, for me, I have always suffered with some pretty crippling anxiety; and this particular medicine helped to keep me from having panic attacks.)

When we decided to try for number two, I decided (on my own) that I no longer needed to take my medicine. Newsflash: That was a mistake.

I ended up pregnant and having daily panic attacks. Severe panic attacks. So I went back on my medicine. And things went okay the rest of the pregnancy in that regard.

But my postpartum experience with Remy Bea was much different. I immediately felt that extreme love and bond this time around; she latched and I ditched the pump; and I declined visitors for the first few weeks. I was doing everything right, right?? Well, yes. But that means nothing.

The darkness of PPD and anxiety hit harder the second time around. She was a very difficult baby. She had severe colic, which we determined later was a recurring UTI. She screamed nearly all day. She napped for a total of 20 minutes per day. And slept an average of 2 hours a night. You read that right — two hours a night. The rest of our nights were spent trying to calm a back-arching, completely miserable, screaming baby.

Oh, and she wouldn’t take a bottle. So I wasn’t even able to hand her off to my husband for a small break. It was a nightmare. No medicine could help this situation. I was in a pit of despair and depression unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed before.

I found myself frantically calling my mom and friends at all hours of the night, telling them how ashamed I was to be screaming obscenities at my baby because she wouldn’t stop screaming and crying. It was the darkest time of my life.

And it lasted for the better part of her first year of life. About 10 months to be exact. The longest ten months of my life.

One day, when Remy Bea was about 11 months old, I woke up and just… well, felt, human again. The only thing that had changed was that Remy Bea was no longer screaming nonstop and she was sleeping a bit more than 2 hours a night (waking only about 3 times per night at 11 months was a huge improvement from being awake all night).

My daily goal was just to survive and keep my children alive. Most days this felt nearly impossible. And I wouldn’t have made it without an army of people surrounding me, both near and far. An army, for which, I will forever be grateful.

 

If someone you know is suffering from Postpartum Depression and Anxiety, here’s what you should absolutely NOT do:

  • Do not say “It gets better.”
  • Do not say “But you have a beautiful baby. How can you be so sad?”
  • Do not tell the person that they should be grateful because things could be worse.
  • Do not come over to visit without bringing a meal and being prepared to clean/fold laundry.
  • Do not give unsolicited advice. It makes things worse. I promise. You are not being helpful.

If you or someone you know is suffering from Postpartum Depression and Anxiety, here’s a list of things you can do to help:

  • Be there, day or night, to listen. Listen through screams; listen through tears; and just to be on the other end of the phone.
  • Ask for help. Ask for someone to come bring you coffee (or wine).
  • Focus on making it through the hours. Then focus on making it through the day.
  • Allow yourself to say “No.” Don’t bite off more than you can chew. Whether it be with work, with your personal life, or social obligations.
  • Don’t be afraid to speak up and ask for help. It is not a sign of weakness. Thousands of women are going through this exact same thing. You are not alone.

Have you suffered from PPD and Anxiety? What tips would you give a new mom? 

 

 

*Disclaimer: I am not a physician and this is not medical advice. It is simply a compilation of thoughts based on my personal experience with postpartum depression and anxiety.** 

 

Maternal Mental Illness affects 1 in 7 Mothers. I’ve linked up with 3 amazing women who have shared their experience, and continue to spread awareness. No mom should ever feel alone because we are all in this together!

Bessy from The Simple Mom Life Blog  (on Instagram at @thesimplemomlife)

Brittany from October Acres (on Instagram at @bstampedbritt)

Kimberlee from The Millennial Mom Blog (on Instagram at @_themillennialmomblog_)

 

i am my own worst enemy // but it will all be okay

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Sometimes I get in my own head. I start to panic because it’s pretty much the worst place to spend a significant amount of time. I am THE BEST at doomsday scenarios, in every facet of my life. Seriously. I can jump from nothing to worst case scenario in 2 seconds flat. It’s a horrible feeling.

So when I play “worst case scenario” over and over again in my head, I literally have to talk myself off that proverbial ledge. I’ve been extremely stressed during this pregnancy. In addition to the major sickness, I’ll just burst into tears because this is not how life should be. And I’m missing a lot of work because of it. And that has me stressed out, like, beyond words. I just feel like none of this should be this way right now.

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But wasn’t I just preaching in my mantra for this week (which, I’ll admit, is more for me than anyone else), that worrying just sucks the joy from today? Yes, yes I was.

Regardless of the many of the several doomsday scenarios I think of, I will be OK!

… I will still be alive.

… I will still have my health.

… I will still have this baby in my belly.

… I will still have my husband, who very much loves me.

… I will still have Moosh and his relentless toddler love.

… I will still have a roof over my head.

… I will still have food on the table, morning, noon and night.

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In the same way that I can be my own worst enemy, I am also good at talking myself off the anxiety ledge. And if I just can’t manage to do it, I’ll reach out to someone who will do it for me. ♥

And everything will be okay.

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And yesterday, someone on the internet reminded me that we survive even our worst days. And it’s true. And if you need that reminder today, or if you know someone who does, I’ll leave you with my favorite quote:

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weekly mantra // don’t forget to breathe

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It may seem like breathing should be an easy concept; something that comes naturally. But for someone that has been suffering from some serious anxiety, it just isn’t that easy. While I was running yesterday Alexi Murdoch’s “Breathe,” came on iTunes. And I started to lose it. Tears while running is something new for me. It’s something I’ve experienced during other forms of exercise, but not running.

Lately my anxiety has been at levels that are nearly shutting me down. I’ll start thinking about one thing and it sends me into a complete spiral — usually my to-do list. Though there is nothing overly daunting on my to-do list; but sometimes I’ll find myself just staring at it without actually crossing anything off of it. Like, for an unreasonable amount of time.

This week an incredible amount of fun is on the agenda; but I’m afraid that I won’t be able to see past the day-to-day to make it to the fun. So my goal is to take everything in stride. And to just… breathe; to remember to breathe.