iammorethanlyme

personal journey with lyme disease

What Anxious People Know About Themselves August 22, 2014

Filed under: Uncategorized — iammorethanlyme @ 7:15 am

.A friend posted this on Facebook last night and I am posting it as it pertains to so many people I know.  In that group of people I know, there are lots of people/friends with Chronic Lyme and co-infections.  Some of these co-infections enter the brain and wreak havoc on our every thought.  I was diagnosed with anxiety, panic attacks and depression at the ripe old age of 19!  My source of control at that time was anorexia (didn’t work).  I went to therapy, use medications and humor to ease the symptoms.  Now enter Bartonella (my worst co-infection and it crosses the blood/brain barrier to boot) and this anxiety spills out of every pore of my being.  I am an emotional roller coaster.  I now see a therapist who specializes in chronic medical conditions.  I wanted to try and find purpose in my life now and try and figure out who I am after all these years of illness.  Now that I have opened up the door to her about my never ending “thoughts”, it has been an amazing release of years of imagined guilt I have felt over things said, not said, thought about, etc.  It is freedom from a self-imposed prison cell in my head.  I am slowly starting to say what I actually feel and people are not running for the exits!  Just like Lyme, no one wants to have crippling anxiety as it robs us of so much time.  Time is so precious.

From Our Readers by HappyGiggles Podcast

I have anxiety, and I believe I can speak for everyone with anxiety when I say this: it’s gotta be hard to be close to us. But there are seven things we want you to know that we don’t always know how to tell you.

1. It doesn’t have to do with you.

It can be pretty exhausting ruminating about everything we possibly have done wrong, are doing wrong, or could do wrong. We may want to sit and cry sometimes. We may be uninterested in our activities. We may snap at you, even though you absolutely don’t deserve it. We may even get nervous that you don’t love us anymore, even if you’ve given us no indication of this.

We want you to know above all else that it doesn’t have to do with you. It’s not your fault. We love you, and we’re so, so sorry if we ever give the impression that we don’t. We just don’t love our brain right now, and we don’t know how to deal with it.

2. Never try to talk us out of our emotions.

Trying to relieve us of our fear or sadness might seem like a good idea. And sometimes, it is. In fact, we might even ask you if we have any reason to be worried, so that we can try to combat that irrational part of us that is constantly afraid.

But there’s a fine line between trying to help us and trying to talk us out of it. Never tell us that our worries don’t exist, or that we can get over it if we just stop thinking about it. All that does is make us feel like we’re broken—that there’s something wrong with us that even our closest loved ones don’t understand.

3. Part of us knows that our fears aren’t rational, but we can’t shake the part that doesn’t.

Sure, we know that the embarrassing thing we said wasn’t really all that embarrassing, and it probably didn’t influence anyone’s opinions of us whatsoever, and that the entire group we were with today probably isn’t talking about how terrible we are behind our backs. We know how ridiculous that sounds, and it sounds even more ridiculous saying it out loud.

But that other part of us. . .that’s where anxiety lives. That’s where it can stay, feeding on us, popping out its head occasionally to remind us that it’s still there. That’s the part that always reminds us, “What if this time, my worries are correct?”

4. We are grateful for what we have—and for you.

Often, anxious people are labeled as pessimists. And that’s actually quite understandable. We’re pretty talented at coming to the worst possible conclusion almost instantaneously.

But that’s not always who we are. In fact, many of us are pretty optimistic between anxiety bouts. We do love our life, and we are grateful for what we have, and we are especially grateful for you. We don’t mean to focus on the negative, but sometimes, we can’t help it. Know we always appreciate you. You are the light at the end of our tunnel. You are the one who tries your hardest to understand, who knows us in and out and still is willing to stay.

5. We know you can’t always see things from our perspective, but we appreciate you trying.

As someone who doesn’t suffer from anxiety, we know you won’t be able to fully understand. We know that we might sometimes sound crazy, and we’re sure it can be frustrating to have to drop everything and calm us down.

But every time you answer our fearful texts with reassurance and kindness, or pull us into another room to ask us what we’re worrying about, or are simply there, steady, supportive, without questioning the way we operate. . .we can’t even express how much that means, because it’s rare to find.

6. We wish we could turn it off, but we can’t.

Though it might seem otherwise, we don’t want to focus on what could go wrong. We don’t want to be negative, or bring the mood down, or nitpick about things that may seem little to an outsider. We’re not trying to get attention.

We know how we sound sometimes, and we wish we could turn it off. But it’s just a part of who we are.

7. It doesn’t define us.

We may have anxiety, and it may be a part of us. But so are our passions, our quirks, our personalities. Anxiety is one of countless parts. We still laugh. We still feel the wind in our hair. We still appreciate a steaming mug of coffee early in the morning, or the sun warming our skin in the summer.

We still love you. We always will.

Sammy Nickalls is a writer and the content manager of Inspiyr.com, an online magazine helping people get healthier, happier, and more successful. She is an avid health nut, as well as a lover of yoga, gaming, books, and tea.

 

 
 
 

What’s a year to a person with Chronic Lyme? August 12, 2014

Filed under: Uncategorized — iammorethanlyme @ 9:50 am
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Hello!  It looks like it has been almost a year since I blogged and that just seems so crazy.  I know I started some blogs, but never finished them.  It doesn’t seem possible that it has almost been a year, because there have been so many days during that time period that seemed so endless!  Those days where you just go through the motions and count the hours till bedtime fully aware that you have MADE IT through another day of pain, medications, medication side effects, and herxes.  I go to bed full of faith that tomorrow will be a better day!  Recently my thinking has changed….

I am starting to have better days.  What is better than that?  I am starting to sleep through the night!  This has not happened since my teen years.  I have narcolepsy and Chronic Lyme to wake me multiple times through the night.  I have narcolepsy which interrupts my REM cycles so that I never feel rested.  I had a sleep study years ago that showed 67 wakenings during the night.  Is it any wonder that I needed a job that kept me on my feet?  Too long at a desk and I would nod off.  There were a few cataplectic moments where my body just collapsed.  Of course, I used humor to make it easier on those around me.  Now 30+ years later, I am sleeping.  It is the most amazing thing in the world.  It is so great that it is hard to get out of bed even though I am fully rested; I just want to lay there awake and remember dreams.  Dreaming is wonderful.  I am thrilled to the point that I don’t even wonder if this is just a phase due to my new Lyme treatment protocol.  I will not be drawn into thinking negatively.  If my new antibiotics, supplements and detox agents are responsible for this – HALLELUJAH and can I have some more. 

My brain and my body need this sleep to recover and repair all the damage from Chronic Lyme.  I still rest during the day even if I had a solid 8-9 hours of sleep because this is how we heal.  Dave emails me everyday and always writes, “rest, rest, rest.”  He has no expectations from me except to do what I need to do to get well.  This is huge for me as I am well enough to accept and believe what he says instead of feeling guilty and useless.  He has seen me through this disease along with my sister, Donna, and my daughters.  They have seen me through the most horrible times and rejoiced with me each time I have battled back.  My eyes tear up as I think of these times and my mind conjures up images of what they saw and now the tears are flowing freely as I wish I could erase what they constantly witnessed.  A decade of pure love and selflessness…probably more to come.  How does one person convey their thanks for this?  I keep fighting this battle every second of every minute of every hour of every day because that is the least I can do for all of us.  I am honored by their love.