Anchored To Hope

Anxiety.  The most loyal of companions.  A pounding chest. Resonating so loudly through my entire being that I can hear the pulsating in my ears and my head and feel it in my fingers and bones- right to my core. My thrashing heart beating as hard, fast and out of control as It can without exploding out of my chest. It's the soundtrack to my anxiety. I call it mine because it belongs to me. In all senses of the word. It is unlike anyone else's anxiety. It is mine. Yours is yours.  I have learned to make that sensation and nonsense and reality my best mate. To welcome it like a dear friend that I know and trust, after all, we've never really been apart.  And all though it is such a dear and familiar friend, anxiety betrays my trust and takes on another form that I wasn't expecting and I didn't know. A new mask.  For an old acquaintance, it is sometimes so unfamiliar.  And then all of a sudden, like a faithful old companion- I'm thrust into my...

The 20th July 2016 : The day my heart simultaneously broke and exploded that much more to expose anxiety for what it is. This blog was designed for that very reason. For no other reason than that really. Over the years God has developed my coping skills and enabled me a strength way beyond myself to co-exist with anxiety and dissociation and for that I'm grateful. But for those who do ask the real and honest question- yes, I still live with anxiety and depersonalisation as my closest companions. I just try not to communicate with them and have dialogue as much. The 20th of July was the morning my son, my little baby boy, brushed my face with his sweaty hand and said: "Mummy,  I need you. I'm scared. I'm scared and my heart is pounding in my throat and I feel all tingly." Unfortunately my brain has done too much research to fight the notion that I know exactly what that is. Mixed with the fact that in my heart and own body- my boy- I live with that demon an a...

I've aptly named this blog The Village. Being so because it's where I am physically and emotionally right now. The Village is the name of our local shop and as I sit here out the front of The Reject Shop, I'm realising that I have In fact, become a northerner ( Mum and sister, look away). I have a routine. I have my coffee shops. I have our Woolies. Today I saw our local doctor. While I sit here waiting for my script for Zoloft, (unashamedly because that's why we even have this blog, advocate of medication for life! On that note I was doing some reading today and found that codeine interacts with SSRI's and can cause serotonin syndrome or symptoms of it, so steer clear of that combination if you are on) I'm pondering the last hour of my life. I usually blame my husband for the fact that I can't go anywhere at our local shopping centre without seeing an array of people that I now call friend, because he has met and involved himself in the life of the ma...

The older I am getting, the more I am becoming increasingly aware that I have absolutely no idea what the rest of the future holds. Heck, I have literally no idea what tomorrow holds. Life is a mystery and mystery doesn't sit well with control freaks like me. Until really recently, heaven has remained the infinite enigma in my mind that it always has been. Clouds, weird-harp-angel music, lots of white...This was until all of a sudden, heaven became occupied with some brilliant humans that  I would love the pleasure of seeing again. Heaven took on the presence of people who are supposed to be here right now. So now, as we are left here with shattered hearts and the remains of a life spent with people that held and occupied enormously large chunks of our existence, heaven needs to be real. A lot depends on it. And I'm not satisfied with thousands of years of endlessly playing harps and wearing weird white clothing and playing the recorder ( ...

Jason. My husband. The human who knows when I'm exaggerating a story and gives me " the look." ( let's face it extroverts of the world, stories are always more awesome when you add a bit of volume). The human who can instantly tell when I'm suffering by one look at my face, and gets me to safety and comfort without either of us having said a word. The protector of my heart. The pursuer of my dreams. The messiest whilst being the most Hygienic person on God's green earth. Ladies and gentleman, Jason McPhee is an enigma. There is no box he fits in. There is no making sense of his nonsense. He is a non-stop outta control train that just keeps on racing through life....in the most unique, beautifully stunning way. Money is of no value to him. (Therefore, I go shopping on his behalf, for myself, just to keep things flowing.) But really, all I ever wanted in a best friend for life was someone with the same heart as my Daddy. They are few and far between. ...