Lost

Things have been feeling a bit off lately. I know that I'm off track when my anxieties start rearing their ugly heads. When I can't think because the counter has crumbs on it. When I can't walk out the door to do errands because the dishes haven't been put away. When I absolutely have to wash my hands because a thought about germs popped into my head. And then I have to wash them again because just maybe I didn't do it well enough the first time.

I don't remember anxiety playing such a huge role in my life in the past. Depression was always the headliner. But for whatever reason - hormonal changes, age, experiences - anxiety is starting to settle down into my life and to take a permanent place. And I don't like it.

I'm starting back at work on Wednesday. Part-time. I know that I need this, but change has always been hard for me even when it is good for me.  I'm trying to manage this, the practicalities of needing to think coherently and be a professional, with leaving my children again. My baby for the first time. I am trying to fit in my running because I know that if that slips, things could end up getting a lot worse. And I am trying to negotiate the holiday season, a time that for whatever reason, always leaves me feeling homesick.

Truth be told, I'm feeling a bit lost right now. I don't like the me who is anxious, unfocused, scatterbrained, critical, and negative. These are all symptoms of my mental health slipping. Signs that things are going sour and that I better do something soon or else.  I guess the benefit of managing my mental health for the past twenty years is that I can now recognise this. And I usually know, if not exactly what needs to be done, what direction I need to point myself in.