Faith, Love and Covid-19

I am a strong outspoken advocate for mental health. I am not afraid nor embarrassed to admit that I suffer fiercely from generalized, severe anxiety and CTSD (<- like PTSD, but continuous). I was a teenager when I was diagnosed and Carter's birth greatly intensified these feelings. Even though medication has truly saved my life, I have to be purposeful in my actions, daily, to control my anxiety and get through each day.

In our current chaotic state, I am working from home. Carter's daycare is also closed so he is quarantined at home with me. This is all such a new experience for all of us. Trying to work from home, somehow create techniques to keep Carter from regressing in therapy and school, incorporate those things into our day and still take care of his basic needs. At the end of the day, I have been coming up for air and begging for some sort of structure. If this quarantine has done anything at ark for me, it has forced me to come face to face with the one thing that hinders me most in life.

My mental health.

A little backstory: The last time Carter and I were cooped up at home, voluntarily quarantined, it was 2016. The year he was born. Those of you who read my blog know that was the hardest year I have ever been through. That year is where the majority of my CTSD stem from. Since we had no answers on what was happening, no diagnosis, I stayed home all day. Every day. Just me and Carter. If I wasn't crying on those days, I was angry. I was stuck in a "why me" phase and begging someone to take him away from me. It was a scary, sad time in my life, all of our lives. Carter screamed 24 hours a day, only slept on our chest, and vomited constantly. I hate writing about it because it forces me to think about it and I unfortunately try to block out most of those memories.

Now that we are essentially in the same position that we were in back in 2016, only this time we are forced to stay home, all of those feelings that I buried deep in my soul are being drudged back up. This is the first time since that horrible year that Carter and I will be together all day long. It is up to me and me only to manage this little guy's life. I am scared. I am scared I will feel the same way I did in 2016 and I never want to feel that way again. Thoughts of "Can I do this? Can I manage his life AND my panic attacks at the same time?" See, I still have attacks every now and again because of the past. Most of the time, someone else is with us and I have the support to take a breather. Now, I don't have that support. It is all up to me.

Some days have been better than others, but I am happy to say we are getting through it day by day. I wake up and I am purposeful about breathing, taking things slow and staying calm. I have had a few minor panic attacks, but nothing that threatened me being with him. I was able to use some of the tools in my anxiety box to bring myself back to the world. This week has also shown me how much our relationship, and his personality, have changed in 4 years. Separating the changes from 2016 has helped me work through this hard time in our lives.

At 4 years old, I still nap when he naps, if I can get a nap out of him. Sleep is essential to decreasing anxiety, especially if he did not sleep well the night before. There are still times when I place him in his bed with an IPAD playing a movie and step away for a little while. A lot of my tricks to lessen the anxious feelings are the same things a new parent would do for their newborn. We are now at week 2 being quarantined together. I have had a few days of terrible anxiety, luckily on a weekend where Casey was available to allow me to be alone. I feel it wearing away as the days pass.

We can do this. I have a lot of faith. Sometimes, though, it's difficult. And that is okay.