Recently in my life I’ve been experiencing more wins, more moments where I feel like I’ve succeeded rather than failed. It’s taken a concerted effort on my part to be able to pick up on those little moments, to see that the work I’ve been doing is paying off.
Our society, our culture, our own insecurities and confidence has conditioned us to constantly pay attention to the bad. To pick up on what you did wrong, on what could be improved, on what needs to be fixed and changed. On one hand, that’s a good thing. It’s threat assessment, thousands of years of survival instinct where one mistake didn’t mean you missed a deadline on a work report, but was the difference between life and death. On the other hand, it’s a constant negativity permeating throughout your day draining energy and vitality.
By focusing on the moments where I am doing something positive, where my momentum is pushing forward towards the goals I’ve set for myself, I have found that my spirit and overall zest for life is rising. I reach this point, and I then ask myself, now what do I do? For the last few years when I have reached a goal or accomplishment, whether big or small, it’s taken me a considerable amount of energy. The days following are spent in almost a spiral of thinking “how am I ever going to do that again?”. So, now when I am reaching these goals with less energy expenditure, I am also unsure what to do. I don’t have to retreat to my little bubble to recoup or get lost within my anxiety. I drive myself to the gym for two days in a row and have a great workout – this used to mean I wouldn’t go for another two weeks. Now, I have the ability to go a third day with little emotional energy expended.
I wouldn’t say that this is new territory for me, because up until last year (and moments here and there before that), I was able to go go go with little to no problem. Until I inevitably crashed. Crashing usually involved alcohol and a day spent crying to myself about how everything was too overwhelming. I’d always get back to what I was doing though, whether that be going to school full time and working, working two jobs, or just having a packed social life. So when the intense anxiety and fear reared its head again last year after Lexapro withdrawal, part of me assumed it would blow over like it has in the past. But it didn’t, and I then spent months fearing anything that pushed me even one step outside of the comfort zone I created for myself. I didn’t have any wins, I only had losses, or so it seemed to me. Any small wins I had were overshadowed by the thoughts of this isn’t a big deal in the first place, so why should I celebrate something so small?
Now, piece by piece, experience by experience, I am coming out of that comfort zone that kept me safe but stagnant and not truly living. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this time when I drive somewhere the anxiety will be so bad I will have to retreat for a week again. That hasn’t happened though, it’s been gradually happening less and less actually.
So is this what “healing” looks like? Constantly questioning if I am healing at all?
What does healing even mean? I find that I’ve now just been questioning everything. Asking myself has this been in me all along, this ability to keep going without a toll taken on my energy. And the answer is yes. Yes, it has been inside of me and I’ve let the tidal wave of fear wash away any sense of confidence.
So now, when I win some, I keep going. There’s no question mark at the end any longer. Whether I win, whether I lose, I keep going.
That’s what life is about anyways, right?