I am fortunate never to have had an addiction to drugs or alcohol. Of course, it probably helps that I don't use drugs or alcohol, but yeah. Closest I come is my ongoing love affair with Diet Coke. But I could really stop that any time I wanted. Really.
Seriously, though, since addictions run in my family, I am grateful not to have struggled personally; nevertheless, I do suffer from another debilitating condition that causes plenty of trouble and turmoil without any substance abuse, and I wonder if the "coming down" process feels anything like when people overcome addictions.
Anxiety.
Now THAT'S something with which I am all too familiar. Indeed, I am the queen of anxiety, and it is a position I'd gladly abdicate, given the choice. But since I've written about it before, here and here, I won't repeat. I'll just say that these past two weeks, I've suffered a crazy bad bout of it, worst one in years, certainly since we've been here in Utah. And now that I'm finally "coming down," I thought I'd write a bit about how that process feels.
It is profound relief.
Unbelievable.
It's like my whole body, which has been filled with so much tension for so long that every muscle aches, begins to recover. When I suddenly realize that I actually don't have a fatal disease (yes, my anxiety objectifies itself to paralyzing fear of dying), it's like the thick, dark cloud of pressure I've been navigating for so many long days, and even longer nights, finally begins to fade. Recovery isn't instant. I'm still exhausted. Because functioning at that level of hyper alert for such an extended period of time is, well, exhausting.
And not only for me. Poor Shulamith and Gerald bear the brunt of it because they are with me all the time, Shulamith during the day and Gerald during the night. Gerald is even patient with me. Haha, just kidding, Shulamith. Sorta.
Some might ask why I would choose to talk about it or write about it so publicly. Simple. It is my experience that talking freely about such things takes some of their power away. That is a good thing. Very good. Also, the ability to laugh at the irrational nature of anxiety speeds the recovery. In fact, laughter of any kind helps.
So I thought I'd share a couple things that happened in my classes during these past couple of difficult weeks, things that made me laugh ever so briefly, but long enough to forget my fear for a second or two.
Because I have a lot of students divided into four different sections of the same course, it's a challenge to learn all their names. To expedite this process, I give them all 3X5 index cards and ask them to print their first names on them and then display these cards on their computers where they are easily visible. I even color-code the different classes by using different colored markers for each: red, green, black, and blue.
So in one class recently, I was in the middle of doing too many things at once. I teach that multi-tasking is impossible, yet I try it all the time. Students were supposed to bring me their essay drafts and their name cards and put them into two separate piles on my desk, but since my students listen to me about as well as my children do, in most cases they forgot one item or the other. As one young woman came forward with her essay, I asked, "Do you have your green card?" meaning her name card printed in the color green.
We are blessed with much diversity at LDS Business College. We have students of all different races and nationalities, from all over the world, who speak all different languages. I can't even tell you how much I love this because how boring would it be if everyone just spoke English all the time? But I digress.
So of course the sweet young lady whose "green card" I requested was from Latin America, and she looked at me, frozen, for just a sec before she realized what I was truly asking. By that point the entire class was rolling in laughter, and now the standing joke in that class is, "Sister Webster...I have my green card!"
Then only about a week later, THIS! I sometimes forget which class I'm in and which color name cards the students have. I need to know, so I know which ones to pass out for roll. Again, trying to do too many things at once while shuffling through my four piles of name cards, I said, "Are you guys black?" And of course sitting right there in front of me, yep front row and center, was a handsome African-American student. The kid next to him replied, pointing to him, "Well, he is!" And now the joke: "We're not all black, Sister Webster, but Ben is." Ahhhhhh!
I am grateful for laughter. For students who can laugh. For a family that loves me despite my nutty anxiety disorder. And for the fact that I now see light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.
I am calm. I am not worrying. I am ALIVE! I can sleep again. I am...
Comin' Down, Baby!
No comments:
Post a Comment