Dealing with anxiety caused by change
When you live away from home and something happens, something you want to celebrate or something you want to be close to your people because of, it can be overwhelming. Not having the cup of tea at your Mum’s house, the stupid argument with your sister that really means, please can I dump this on you or the night out with friends that ends with an outpour of I love yous has left me feeling a bit like a spinning compass. Waking up to horrifying stories in the news has also affected me more than I have been aware but I don’t want to write about that, I don’t have the ability to go there. I want to write about what helps me in case you are someone who also feels a rise in anxiety levels when change occurs.
Before leaving Dublin spending time by the sea
For years I have ignored the anxiety, the sudden tiredness, the brain fog, especially when it appears after positive change. I called myself out on it, weak, unattractive, annoying, were all words that would show up for me. Through meditation I have learnt to sit with anxiety, examine it and show it curiosity, even a sense of mischief or playfulness. In doing so I can learn more about myself, why I have reacted in this way and what my body is trying to tell me. In the past I have turned to sugar, this is prime time for a sudden toffee or ice cream obsession to take over. I’m not going to lie, with all the Halloween treats lying around, tempting me with their quick hits of pleasure, many a back has been turned, many a sneaky hand placed to mouth in a fake cough to hide the gobbling of mini snickers in front of my kids who would definitely do a better job of burning the extra calorie intake.
Nature also helps in grounding myself and writing helps to make sense of it all. Writing for me is like a form of self-therapy. Unlike the treats, it’s benefits are longer lasting and manage to untie the knots rather than dumping a sticky mess on top of them.
At home, Mum and I had a habit of walking together when we could. Sometimes as a teenager I would be so mad (usually at Mum and usually unjustifiably so) but we would set off together from Sandymount strand, over the hills of Irishtown Nature Park on to the Shelley Banks and out to Poolbeg Lighthouse. I would start the walk jaw clenched, fists jammed in pockets and Mum would chatter away, seemingly oblivious to my mood. It was impossible to stay angry, I would have to let whatever was bothering me go. On a blue sky sunny day you can see for miles, the space opens up the worries that created small caves of shadow in my mind and blows them out, flooding them with light and blue; silky, sapphire blue. As soon as we reached the sight of that red lighthouse standing strong and cheerful, never cowering to whatever the sea threw up against it, the caves would be gone.
Grumpy 20 something year old letting it go at Poolbeg, at least the fists are out!
When my Great Aunty Steph died, Mum said she put her there, in that Lighthouse and it helped her to have her placed somewhere bright that she could visit on her walks. Aunty Steph loved red. I think I need my own lighthouse here in Stockholm. Something visual that I can walk to. Something that takes a while to get to so that gradually I can let that which no longer serves me fall away and instead, take up the energy of buzzing life generously provided in nature.
Poolbeg Lighthouse
In Autumn the nature is beautiful here. The trees burst into flames of oranges and reds against a pale blue and grey sky. There is a calmness in the atmosphere, a lot of the birds have left for warmer climates and the busy forest animals have settled in to hibernate. It’s difficult not to go along with it, not to start slowing down when you are surrounded by the embers of growth. Perhaps that also somewhat contributes to the uneasy feeling I get when so much around me is changing and I am forced to acknowledge it.
October sunrise from the girls’ bedroom window
Not all of the change that came to me was difficult. I can share with you that I have finally received funding for a new play I am writing, a play that I have been researching for two years now. I will be able to talk about that more soon and share the process of writing it together with an incredible team that I have managed to gather. I am very excited about it.
It is funny how in both moments of great joy and sadness you long for that feeling of connection. Connection to your people, to the fibres of your being that set them into vibration again when they have been flat. I am sure I can find myself a replacement Lighthouse for now.
As I am writing the grey clouds are parting for a moment of light streaming through. Even though the world around me is entering hibernation, above the cloud cover the constant sun still shines. That gives me comfort.