Sorting through panic disorder is hard work. I do feel like other aspects of my life suffer when I’m focused on just the one part.
I’m glad of the work, though. Lately because I can talk to my mom about stuff that I didn’t ever think I needed to talk to her about. Honestly, I never expected to have a how-your-traumatic-cancer-affected-me conversation. Although, I suppose all my blogging about my panic disorder is just that. Law of unintentional consequences, I think. I do not ever, and have never, intended to diminish or over-shadow my mother’s terrifying fight against cancer. In my mind, my mom is the strongest person I know. She fought. I was inspired and mortified by her and all those folks fighting with her at the radiology lab and in the transplant ward. What my mom overcame is miraculous. My mom is miraculous.
The benefits of hard work — of miraculous work — are cool things like unexpectedly being able to walk more, allow loving people into your life, seek therapy, pursue a career dream, travel, and generally have more to give.
OK. so all that sentiment is because I went to therapy today, and I learned a bunch and was encouraged to look at my triggers. Therapy is incredibly helpful. I’m grateful for it.
Honestly, I was just distracted by a Gatsby trailer, so let’s wrap this up. Panic = sucks. Mom = awesome. Work = hard. Therapy = helpful.
I love a lot of people. You’re one of them.