So. I’m a mother of two now. And after three months of frolicking, in the summertime breeze with my husband and two kids, I started back at the J-O-B last week.
I didn’t even let month two of maternity leave set all the way in before the thought of going back to work killed my fun. You could say that the month of July was just one long ass Sunday.
I guess I just fell into a big worry-spell. I worried about how I would manage in the mornings, having to be at work at 7:30 after a night of no sleep with a typical 3 month old. I worried about if I would have time for the gym after work AND make sure there was a hot meal available for my husband and kids. Not that he requires or even expects that of me, but because that’s just something that I like to do. I worried about being able to supply enough breast milk. I worried about what my email inbox would look like after 3 months of not checking it. I worried about the state of my job. I worried about the cost of daycare for two kids. I worried. (I go into a little more detail in the newsletter…you subscribed?)
I’m a chronic worrier. To the point where there are physical effects. I get hot, breathing gets hard…it’s…a lot. I’m pretty sure I should be seeing some type of psycho-therapist and popping some Xanax. But I refuse to give in to this. (Or maybe I should smoke some weed…no? Ok, no.) Anxiety can be crippling. But then I remember that I don’t have to let things consume me. Mental health is just that. Mental.What is worrying stopping you from doing? Click To Tweet
By no means am I a therapist or liscensed to give any type of medical advice. And if you really think you should seek some medical attention, you should know that there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.
There’s so many things you can do, to prevent yourself from going down that black hole of worry. Here’s a couple of things that I do, specifically.
How does the saying go? Prior proper planning prevents piss poor performance. Often, people stress about things because they didn’t plan. You need to be somewhere at 7? Give yourself enough time for traffic. There’s supposed to be 15 people at Sunday dinner? Cook for 25. You don’t have to speed and weave through traffic. You left early enough. you planned. You don’t need to agonize over whether or not anyone invites extras over for dinner. There’s enough food. You planned.
Sometimes, things don’t go as planned. It’s ok. Recognize that. It’s ok to deviate from the original plans. You may find that its actually a better fit if you give it a try. And more importantly if things don’t go as planned, you kind of don’t have a choice but to deal. Being open to flexibility is the difference between bending and breaking.
Don’t Concern Yourself with Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda
Black ass bottom line: It doesn’t matter. What are you going to do about it right now? Everything else is irrelevant.
What is worrying stopping you from doing? If I consume myself with worry, then eventually I’ll need to go decompress. Decompress = laying in my bed, not talking to anyone and sleeping so I don’t have to think. But that’s unproductive. You could spend that time thinking about what you could do to make your situation better, and doing it. Skip the worry, do what you can, and toss the rest up. You’ll live.
and when all else fails…
Do Something Fun
Sometimes you CAN’T think of a plan, or CAN’T fathom anything other than what you planned, or CAN’T stop thinking about how you could have prevented something, or CAN’T shake the feeling of stressing out. Sometimes you just have to step away and come back later. I find that meeting up with my girls, hitting a happy hour, and acting like you don’t have a care in the world helps. If even for just those couple of hours, that becomes your reality.
The most important thing, is recognizing that you have control over your thoughts and your actions. And that’s ALL you have control over. You can’t control what anyone else does or says, you can’t control how people feel about you, you can’t control the weather, traffic, and sometimes, you can’t control the hair that grows out of your own head. But you can control what you do about it, and that’s what counts.