“I hope this question isn’t too personal . . . but, are you still seeing your therapist?”

I am.  And I don’t mind that question at all.

I see her twice a month now, two hours total.  This is a serious change from a year ago, when she and I met for two hours every week.  I never missed an appointment, and I routinely needed a long nap after my session with her.

I am happy to tell you that anxiety is less of an issue these days.  It is still present, still something I deal with, but it is no longer the crippling menace to my everyday.

Anxiety creeps in when I feel out of control, when I don’t know what’s coming next, when I think I’m in over my head.

These are the same triggers I’ve had since the very first panic attack.  The difference is that my scope was much smaller then.

A trip to the mailbox seemed out of control.
A day alone with my children presented too many variables, too many unknowns.
A grocery list felt like too much information, the grocery store was comparable to the deep end of the ocean.

I expanded my scope by slowly learning to tell myself the truth.  I have learned to combat the dishonesty of anxiety.  She’s a good liar, that one.  She had me in her grips for a long time.

The truth is, I can do those things.  And I can do the next thing.  When anxiety rears her ugly head again, I start with the same tactics I learned when everything was too much.

I just have to remind myself.  Believe myself.  Tell myself.

You can do this.  You’re safe.  Just do this one thing.  That’s all.

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