Cope With It or Cut It Out?

Have you heard of high-functioning anxiety?  I hadn't until this week, when I saw this post on my Facebook wall.  I had to laugh when I read it because it pretty much describes B and I both in a nutshell.  (Well, my family would disagree that I'm calm and do well under pressure on the outside because they live with me.  But I have heard that comment from other people before.)  Of course, I wondered if "high-functioning anxiety" is truly a thing or if it's just one of our latest self-help diagnoses for a personality type that's been around forever so I did what every modern seeker of truth does-- I googled it.  (*snort*)  Guess what?  I rather think it's a modern pop psychology term for a personality struggle that's been around forever, rather than an actual medical diagnosis.  Shocker, I know.  Call me cynical, but it seems like another way for people to shout either that they're special (in the victim kind of way, we all get kudos in modern day society for being a victim of some kind) or to publicly excuse themselves for not achieving all their perfectionistic brains tell them they should be able to do ("I really could have achieved more in my career but I struggle with high-functioning anxiety, you know").  The reality is that the more life I live, the more I realize that we ALL are dealing with crap that could be labeled as something.  And anxiety and depression in our modern society are so common it might as well be omicron in Arizona right now.  It's more a fact of life than a "special diagnosis."

That said, it's a real challenge, and one that I hope to find a better means of coping with.  I'm part of an emotional self-reliance group course through church right now and while most of the topics and strategies we've learned about so far and tried to practice are not new to me, it is helping me to put a little more focus on finding a way to reduce the anxiety in my life.  (Fortunately, at least right now, depression is not an issue.  Which is pretty good considering it's winter and the pandemic just refuses to go away.)

After a fair amount of pondering and wondering how I can reorganize my life to reduce my stress (what can I say, I'm a detail-oriented organizer, hah!) I've come to the conclusion that the part-time billing work has got to go, sooner rather than later.  It was always meant to be temporary, but what was originally only supposed to be a couple of months has turned into eight months.  During a video call with the VP and the manager over my division on Thursday, I asked how much longer they were going to need me and got dumbfounded, awkward laughter.  Neither of them knew I was supposed to be temporary.  They thought I was a permanent part of the finance department who was looking to progress in my career.  I sucked up my courage and told them, no, I am primarily a stay-at-home mom who is content to just be the newsletter editor.  They then promised they will both find a way to reassign work so that I can step down soon.  (Though I still don't know how soon "soon" is.)

Because my brain is twisted and likes to torture me, once I'd stood up and made my position clear, I started having full-blown anxiety about having made the wrong decision.  We are not dependent on this income at all-- most of it was going into our emergency savings-- but some part of me equates savings with security, and I wondered if I was giving up a really sweet situation too soon.  After all, I was making extremely good money on a flexible schedule from my house.  But the reality is, my home life is constantly teetering on the brink of disaster, mostly because I just have no time.  My kids are getting older, yes, but that only makes it clear that I have a limited amount of time left with them before they launch.  Plus they need me just as much as teenagers as they did while little kids, even if it is in different ways.  I want to be available when they DO need me, not locked away in my room frantically trying to finish up my work for the day.

Terence sat down with me yesterday when I was all teary and panicking and doubting my decision and told me that he's wished that I would quit for awhile.  The biggest casualty of all with my work schedule is my time with Terence, and it's taking a toll.  He reminded me that security doesn't come from money (money will do nothing to keep us safe from many disasters, that's a helpful thought for my anxiety) but maybe some faith would help.  God has always been there for us before, no matter what we've had to face.

He's right, of course.  And I've really missed all my time with my best friend.  His schedule is challenging enough to work around, throwing my work schedule on top meant that we were barely on the same boat some days, and when we were, I was a stress case worried about the time.

Time for a change.  I can do it.  I can go forward with faith and not fear.  

It's going to be OK.