
The cold sweats, the rapid trembling, the racing heartbeat, the tightening in the chest. These are all symptoms I know too well. At times it felt as though I was having a heart attack. The physical symptoms are produced by what began as a figment in my mind. Whether real or perceived, it is very real when it becomes physically apparent.
I previously wrote about my stay in the hospital for one week over a mild stroke caused by my own anxiety. Unable to lower my blood pressure or slow down my heartbeat. I had begun to let my depression and stress overtake me.
That is when I realized that this was not just mentally affecting me but also physically. These are symptoms many of us know too well for those diagnosed with a mental disorder. One directly correlates with the other. To be at your greatest physically, you mentally have to be balanced.
It took ending up in the hospital to realize how vital it was to first work on my mental state. When you become mentally balanced, the outer beauty is only sure to follow. Not as the world necessarily sees beauty, but the genuine kind of beauty because it has been broken and rebuilt even stronger the second time around.
Looking back and seeing how two years ago, after having my life turned upside down and feeling depressed at my lowest point, I saw my life through a different lens. Negativity, hurt, rejection, betrayal, and bitterness began to blur my vision. I was allowing these things to take away my identity.
I allowed these thoughts of abandonment and fear to channel their way from my mind to my body. To go from figment to physical. As much as I tried to cover up my true emotions, it was slowly seeping through me on the outside. The depression slowed me down, the anxiety debilitated me, and the BPD fueled my rage.
I still suffer many of these physical symptoms to this day. Whenever my anxiety starts to get the best of me. I break out in cold sweats, shaking, dizziness, and shortness of breath. Trauma f***s you up. That’s an actual fact. Sadly, it affects us in more ways than we would like.
That doesn’t mean the end of the road, though. It means finding the starting point of your journey and being more aware of maneuvering on that path. One of the most challenging yet most liberating steps is becoming aware that you have a problem. That you need help.
There should never be any shame in knowing and understanding that you have a problem that needs help fixing. Taking reassurance that each of us is broken in some way. We all need help to some extent, some more than others. You can not ultimately fix what you don’t recognize is broken.
Becoming more aware of yourself and your reactions to different situations. Keeping yourself present at the moment. Not allowing your mind to wander by giving yourself positive self-talk. These are some steps you can take to help begin your journey within yourself.
Practicing self-awareness and being present in the moment really helps to keep your emotions under control. Staying focused on what is in front of you helps your mind to keep from straying. Breathing exercises, mindfulness exercises, and understanding more about your disorder helps you to manage and turn those negative thoughts into positive ones.
You are never alone. Many others experience these same physical symptoms. Learning to manage them is the beginning of finding your mental cloud 9.
I am pretty sure your words were words i would have wrote, if i had had the nerve….I am into 1.5 years of BPD with manic depression and anxiety….plus going thru menopause at the same time its been oh so much fun sister!!! LOL! I hope you have recovered from the stroke and will keep you in prayer. Thank you for sharing…it truly inspired me to keep on keeping on and grow gracefully….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much for your kind words. I am entering that phase as well. I understand the “fun” part. We are in this together. Keep growing. It’s the best part of life. Hope you feel well and thank you for reading.
LikeLike
An inspiring post! Stay blessed 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person