Anxiety & Anemones
I never knew how to manage my stress. It became my homeostasis, being stressed out. Anxiety is now a symptom of the unbearable weight of my miss-management of that stress. I am prescribed things that bring me joy. Which inherently stresses me out because I don’t understand the necessity of joy. I can’t comprehend the idea of doing something for the heck of it. There has to be meaning & purpose. Isn’t that one aspect of being successful? Not if your load is so heavy that it breaks your back. That’s wholly inefficient.
Image by Rebecca Pry
We planted a lot of anemones this year. They are a metaphor for anxiety and a quick convert to believing in prayer. Anemones are grown from corms. They look like tiny acorns or over sized seeds. They require a little bit of preparation, a lot of love, and time. Much like me when I am experiencing an anxiety attack. Once they grow into roots and a tiny set of leaves appears, you can put them in their home for the season. In their adolescence they require some maintenance with regular watering and potentially some cold protection, depending on your planting zone and timing. The idea is to support the plant through any phase of stress by monitoring the plants and watching for pests or over-watering. Well guess what? After learning about anemones and planting over 100 corms, I ended up with 12 plants. My novice growers skills produced a loss rate of about 80%… Which really only reinforces my anxiety surrounding planting things that we lose. It’s never truly a loss because we’re learning so much about the personality and temperament of each plant. I am learning how big this world is compared to what I knew before.
Pre-Covid, I had a Pilates Studio in the heart of the Village of Warwick. I am a native, born and bred. I grew up here and I always had a lot of pride for the area and its farms and community. The Warwick Pilates Gymnasium, which I now house a smaller iteration of in my home, was my favorite place. I raised my daughter there and made a living doing what I loved every day. I got to work with friends and support an amazing team of women. It broke my heart having to close it down due to financial difficulties through the pandemic. That was one of the first things to break me down mentally last year before my hospitalization. I went through a series of traumatic events including a challenging pregnancy, the loss of my business, family quarrels, the re-planning of our wedding 3x, moving to a new home, having a baby during covid, schooling my kids while running 3 businesses and dealing with a PMAD… I crashed. Hard. Fast. Crashed.
Owning the Gym was my metaphorical pre-sprout. It brought me great success, support, and joy. It was efficient and effective and it made people feel good to visit us and take a lesson. That made me feel like I could grow more. I could and I would and I did but all in ways I had never expected. I grew into my family, my farm, and myself. I had to compost what was left of my studio and take it to a place where I could be available to a smaller version of it. These decisions are never easy, and lord knows I am anything but graceful when it comes to major life decisions. If you get through the awkward phase of feeling unsure of yourself and find confidence in your abilities to overcome challenges bigger than you could have expected; you can get somewhere. Anxiety prevents you from feeling those things though. So I am stuck here hoping my flowers bloom and I may have a chance to again soon too.
