Category Archive

I have been thinking about Fear and how it dominates our press and the affect this has on the anxious.

If you are an anxious person then you will be well acquainted with fear.  Any campaign designed to alert us to have a mammogram, (fear of cancer), wear our seatbelts (fear of crashing), be alert to strange unattached parcels in public places (fear of terrorism), eat the right food and exercise regularly (fear of obesity and/or death), recycle our rubbish (fear of global warming), get in stocks of canned food (fear of bird flu), use the correct moisturiser (fear of aging),  will no doubt succeed and send  the anxious out to get the next mammogram or buy out the local supermarket of canned goods.  I find myself avoiding this type of media activity as it feeds my fear, but then of course I fear that I am merely burying my head in the sand .  I can’t win!  I also wonder if the people that these types of campaigns are wanting to target ie those who don’t know about these issues, or don’t care – still don’t know or don’t care?  The only people watching and listening are the anxious (who know all about this stuff already…!)

So, how do I try and deal with this overload of fearful information?

• I only listen to commercial radio in the mornings and save the “real” news for later in the day when I am awake and lucid.  Waking to endless bad news cannot be good for you.
• I prefer to read the news rather than watch or listen.  I find TV news unbearable, it is designed for the few second sound bite, contains little information and a whole lot of fear.
• I find talking about what I have heard is helpful. Hopefully someone will be able to challenge some of this information, and might put a different perspective on things.
• If it all becomes too much I’ll turn everything off and have a news holiday and read a trashy book, or go to a feel good movie – anything that helps take me away from news and gloom overload.
• Every now and then I will congratulate myself on the fact that I am a responsible person and doing the best that I can. 
• Sometimes it helps to find out more information, and not just to take what I have heard or read about as gospel.  I believe that information can ease anxiety and help get things into perspective.  (Although you have to be careful with this one as this can lead to a certain obession which isn’t always helpful either).

It is of course important to be careful, to be alert and to be aware of our environment, our health and our political climate.  However, if like me, you are inclined towards the anxious then it is also important to look after yourself - it is all too easy to become overwhelmed.

I have become interested lately in the use of the term “Hypochondria” and have done a bit of trawling on the Internet to find out how we use this word.    I have noticed that a lot of the Blogs on this subject are funny.  You know – you go to the doctor with suspected ( and probably absolute) cancer/heart disease/ near death and find out that it is nothing to be concerned about, and everyone has a good laugh. 

Movies and TV also enjoy using hypochondria for a few quick laughs.  Woody Allen has made a specialty of it, there is the resident hypochondriac on the TV sitcom “Scrubs”, and even children’s animated movies have had a go, for example “Madagascar”. 

Now you may be thinking that I’m being just a bit overly serious, but I notice that I don’t use the term of  hypochondriac to describe myself, and  I prefer to say that I suffer from a “Health Anxiety”.  However, if a hypochondriac is someone who has an “abnormal anxiety about one’s health” (Oxford Concise Dictionary), then that’s me!  I’m wondering that if we continue to see a hypochondriac as someone to make fun of,  then it makes it even harder for sufferers to get the help and support that we all need.

In the end however, whatever term you use, the most important thing as always, is to get this help and support – only then can you regain a sense of humour!

I am having an interesting time of it at the moment observing my daughter struggle with anxiety.  I always knew that she got anxious, but now in her early 20’s she seems to be taking a similar path to her mother.  Her worries are different than mine, but they manifest themselves in the same way – obsession to the point of not being able to think of anything else, and then when one particular issue dies down, something else comes up to take it’s place.   

I ache for her, and I want to make it all go away.  I hate the thought that she is going down this path, and I feel guilty. Have I passed this on to her, was it the way I brought her up?  I’m scared that my constant worrying lead to her adopting similar behaviour, but I also know that hereditary factors come into it as well.  I know that I can’t solve this for her, but I desperately want her to learn some of the strategies that have helped me.  I border on becoming obsessed and over involved.  In short I am anxious!   

I remember being her age, how anxiety ruled my life, but having no idea what it was, that it was treatable and that other people suffered the same thing.  I felt alone and quite mad.  I try to tell myself that my honesty with her has enabled her to seek help and deal with this at a far earlier age, and that perhaps this will enable her to cope better than I did.  I also have to remind myself that she is not me – she won’t be feeling everything that I have, and she will find her own way.   

Have other people noticed this pattern in their families?  How do you deal with it, what helps? I would be really interested to hear your thoughts.

Christmas can be lethal for producing stress and anxiety. For some strange reason, it doesn’t seem to affect me this way though, which is quite amazing considering I am generally someone who will find any excuse to get stressed!

So I have been thinking about why I don’t get anxious at this time.   

I have come to realise that I am not responsible for everyone’s happiness. I can provide a nice venue, and hopefully it will be a sunny hot day and we can sit in the sun, relax, eat and chat.

I have stopped inviting people I don’t like, (but always felt I should).

I don’t provide huge amounts of food – everyone brings something and it’s usually a wonderfully ecclectic mix of tastes and gastronomic experiences!

That’s it really, I was hoping for something a bit more insightful when I started writing this, but maybe that’s why it works, as often the most simple ideas are the ones that are the most successful. 

I wish everyone a (hopefully) anxiety free Christmas, and time for feeling some peacefulness and joy.  Although I’m not one for New Years resolutions (because I never keep them), I have realised that I like this holiday period to think about what is important to me, and how I can look forward to a new year.

Thank you to everyone who takes the time to write, read and comment on the We Worry Blog.  It feels so good to be part of a wider network of interesting and committed people, and I wish you all the best for the New Year. 

Have a look at the link to flickr and some rather lovely old New Zealand Christmas cards produced by our National Library.

 Meri Kirihimete

It is easy when you are anxious to forget about those who are near and dear, who cope with the depression, the questioning, the doubts, the pain and the tears.  When I first started experiencing anxiety I was in a new relationship with the man who would become my husband.  I remember the baffled look as I pounced upon him sobbing because he was late home from a trip away, and his futile attempts at reassurance as my  fears of imminent health failure reached a crescendo.  He really had no idea about what was happening to me, why I couldn’t be reassured, and why I couldn’t just get on with things and be normal!   

 25 years on I thought it was a good time to ask him about the ways that he has coped with living with an anxious person, and perhaps what advice he would give to someone in a similar situation.

J: What was your first reaction when you realised that I had anxiety?

SJ: Probably to be worried! And then to think how could I help?

J: What happened for you when you realised that you couldn’t help?

SJ: Well it took many counselling sessions for me to realise that the best thing to do was actively listen, to not offer advice but to just be attentive and talk.  Just hang in.

J: What advice would you give to someone now?

SJ: the best way is just to “be”. It’s about being attentive, making time to be together and to share.

J: How do you look after yourself?

SJ: Having work and pleasure apart from you is important, at the same time as also making time and sharing things with you too.

J:How important is the time away?

SJ:Time apart is important in any relationship, I don’t think it is any more important when living with an anxious person

 J:  What have been some of the frustrations?

SJ: Mainly that I couldn’t wave a magic wand and make it all better.  Also when I get a bit down and tired myself, and don’t take the time to listen and share things with you, I can get a bit frustrated.  Sometimes I worry that I can’t make you laugh.

 J: Are there any gifts from living with an anxious person?

SJ: It has made me develop good ways of talking and listening.  I hadn’t realised that listening was so hard! It’s about really hearing what the person you are talking to is on about, without trying to solve everything.  I learnt to ask open questions, and to encourage conversation rather than to stifle it.

J: We have done couple counselling.  What do you think the affect of this has been?

SJ: I was struggling to cope with your anxiety at that time, and counselling helped me to cope and to look after myself, as well as become really aware of what would help you.

J: Could you have done this without counselling?

SJ: No I would have struggled much longer.

J: What advice would you give to an anxious person?

SJ: I would say to keep talking about it.  Sharing an anxiety or a vulnerability brings people together.

In the end there is no magic answer.  I think that for us it has been about listening, talking, challenging my thought patterns at times, getting help when we needed it, and trusting and respecting each other.  Doesn’t sound any different from any other relationship does it?

Years ago my mother gave me this funny little book.  It was called “Self Help For Your Nerves”, by Dr Claire Weekes.  The doctor’s picture was on the cover and even back then I thought she looked old and fuddy duddy.  I was appalled that my mother could consider that I had problem with my “nerves”, and to give me a book written by a dinosaur was even worse!  However, as these things often go, I have found this book (and the subsequent titles) to be invaluable.   Dr Weekes suggests three easy things you can do to ease anxiety.  

Floating
Float towards the symptoms you get … don’t fight them.  You may feel short of breath, have sweaty palms, a sore tummy etc.  Fighting these symptoms makes them worse, just try floating past them and accepting them for what they are, just a manifestation of an anxious you.

Facing
Face your thoughts and fears instead of trying to be rid of them by pushing or forcing them out. The continual fight and self talk is exhausting.  I say something to myself like, “I’m feeling really scared about….” That’s it really, I’m scared and anxious, end of story.  The problem with trying to reason yourself out of an anxious thought are the what if’s. “What if the doctor is wrong’ , or, “what if they have had an accident” and so on. Accept your condition … I tell myself that this is how I am feeling now and that I know it will pass. This can break the cycle of fear.

Letting Time Pass
Letting time pass seems hard, as naturally we want to be better now, but it takes time to heal a broken bone, so why not time for healing a tired and very busy brain?

I keep coming back to this book, I need to be reminded and reassured I suppose.  It is a bit like an old woolly blanket that I can nestle into and feel supported and comforted.

I have noticed a funny thing happening over the last few years.  Many of my friends have an anxiety problem.  Is is because of me?  Perhaps I am contagious?

My suspicion is that once you start talking about your own experiences of anxiety and/ or depression, is gives other people the opportunity to admit that they may have had similar experiences.  Somehow it no longer signifies failure, lack of self control or negativity. It isn’t something to feel ashamed of, and in fact you may find out that your good friend suffers from the same problem!

My friends are without fault a glorious bunch.  Many have had some tough times, and there is something wonderful about knowing people who have struggled with life, but are coming out the other side.  We laugh a lot, and for me that’s what makes all of this worthwhile. 

Kia Ora (hello). This is my first post, and being of a slightly pessimistic persuasion I can’t really believe that it’s going to work. But - I shall throw caution to the wind and give it a go.

As you can tell from the title I live in New Zealand, and even though it’s a country renowned for it’s green image, and relaxed way of life, believe me there are still plenty of opportunities to worry! I think my first experience with anxiety was when I was 8 and panicking that my mother would not come back from shopping. She did, but some germ of an idea had entered my head - bad things can happen.

I didn’t really experience anxiety again until I met my husband, he traveled a lot - and yes, I worried endlessly that he would have an accident, find someone else, or disappear off the face of the earth! Once the children came along I was in full flight. There were endless opportunities to really obsess then, and this combined with a period of intense stress and voila - full blown depression and anxiety in one very foul swoop. For me there is a huge connection between love/loss and control. To love is to let go and to trust - anxiety is not a good bedfellow!

I am now older and sometimes wiser. For me, dealing with anxiety is about letting go and believing that whatever happens, I will cope. This is my mantra, “I will cope”. I have discovered that anxiety for me is about the fear of not coping, and living well is about being able to love fully, while living with the fear of loss. Much of my anxiety revolves around health (I found the blog on self diagnosis to be particularly pertinent!), and no doubt you will hear more from me on this matter.

I’m looking forward to being part of We Worry, I hope that what I have to say will resonate with some of you. There is something rather nice about being part of a bigger group of people endeavoring to live to the best of their ability, even with life being so uncertain and surprising.

E noho ra

With my kids being out of school for the summer I haven’t been able to post much, they start back next week and I hope to be back.

I came across this article tonight, it is one tiny step, but at least a step…
It is from MedlinePlus, this is one of the most recent articles I have found where research has found something successful. I will keep an eye out to see what else comes from this.It came from MedlinePlus,

Gene May Help Spur Premenstrual Depression

Finding could explain why some women are more vulnerable to the condition

HealthDay

By: Krisha McCoy

Monday, July 23, 2007

MONDAY, July 23 (HealthDay News) — Scientists have discovered a gene variant linked to an increased risk of severe premenstrual depression.

Premenstrual dysphoric disorder, or PMDD, is a psychiatric condition that affects about 8 percent of women in their childbearing years. Women with PMDD experience bouts of major depression and/or anxiety and severe irritability during the second half of their menstrual cycle. These symptoms subside with the onset of the menstrual period.

PMDD has been thought to be related to hormonal changes over the course of the menstrual cycle.

For a new study published online June 30 in Biological Psychiatry, researchers studied 91 women with a confirmed diagnosis of PMDD over at least three months. Another 56 women who had no history of mood disorders related to the menstrual cycle served as the comparison group.

The team found four specific gene variants in the estrogen receptor alpha gene, ESR1, that were more common in the women with PMDD than in the control group.

“While these are preliminary findings that require replication in larger studies, we would argue that this may explain part of the variance among women in the susceptibility to developing this mood disorder,” the study’s senior author David R. Rubinow, Meymandi distinguished professor and chair of psychiatry at the University of North Carolina School of Medicine, said in a prepared statement.
HealthDay

Happy Mother’s Day to all of the readers here at We Worry and all of the contributors.

Being a Mother is tough work, being a Mother with any sort of Mental Illness just adds to the stress of day-to-day life.  Let this be the day that you sit back and enjoy doing whatever it is that you love.  Try not to worry about the small things and let this be your day.  You do so much for everyone in your life, today do something for yourself.  Relax.

Happy Mother’s Day!

I am in my early 30’s and have been living with PMDD, PreMenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, for about 20 years. I am married and have 4 incredible children. My husband is obviously a very devoted man, anyone who knows about, or lives with PMDD knows what I mean. PMDD is a more severe form of PMS. I just moved to South Carolina from Texas and am enjoying living close to the beach. I enjoy spending my time writing, watching my children play soccer, playing with my 2 dogs, Siberian Husky and Pekingese and working part-time at a Health Club. Not much research has been done, or is currently being done to learn about PMDD and why it affects certain women. I am very excited to be so involved helping other women learn about PMDD and how they can learn to live a healthier life even with this disorder.

I’ve reached the top of the hill again! To those who’ve read my previous posts this will make some sense. For others… well, let me explain.

As most you you know anxiety can be a rollercoster ride. A couple of months ago I felt pretty good but then something happened that made me stumble a bit. I rolled down the hill. During these past two months I’ve been steadily climbing upwards again and - thankfully - I am back on top.

The past few weeks have been like a small cumulative miracle. Things have happened. I have been forced to deal with situations where I thought I would fail - even die - and I would have avoided quite willingly if I had been given a choice. These situations have been both big and small but they have all represented things that have scared my or things that I thought I could never deal with. I was wrong.

To clarify, these situations haven’t involved anything bad, sad or hurtful. That is, perhaps, the “funny” part. An example would be a situation where I had to speak in front of a big crowd of important people about something that was very important to me. This was something I thought I couldn’t handle. I was sure that the stress would simply kill me. I would fall down completly and utterly dead. Didn’t happen. I spoke. I lived. Yay!

And during this little trip I’ve had fun! Increadible fun. I haven’t enjoyed my daily life like this since… well, since I was a teenager, probably. I feel very much alive. I feel carefree and relaxed. Even though I’ve gone through more tension during the past couple of weeks than ever before. Things are moving fast - in a swirl - and I am pretty calm. Amazing.

I’ve even felt the claw of anxiety creep up on me and I was able to brush it away. “No heart attack today.” I said. “No blood clot or brain tumor, thank you very much.” And the anxiety just stopped dead cold. It crawled back into the darkness.

Will this last forever? Probably not. How long will it last? I don’t know. Will I roll down that hill again? Probably, yes. What will happen then? I will climb back up. Because being on top is breathtaking.

I hope everyone who has a daughter, is a daughter, is married to a daughter or who knows a daughter will take a few moments and just reflect on how deeply ingrained into our culture is the freedom to slur. I hope that rather than entering the fray on behalf of either Don Imus or the Rutgers Women’s Basketball Team you will simply take a moment and respect the daughters — those you know, and those you don’t.

Whatever your politics are there is always space to respect a daughter — either our own or someone else’s.

Many of us worry about the death and suffering caused by disease, but few of us can really do much about it. Aside from getting a Ph.D. and working in a lab, we’re often relegated to sidelines to wait for promising new treatments for humanity’s most painful diseases.But now that’s all changed thanks to the Berkeley Open Infrastructure for Network Computing (BOINC). Now we can all help!

BOINC is a piece of software that runs on your computer in place of your normal screensaver. BOINC itself is not a research project, but rather a platform for you to choose which projects you want to participate in. Many research projects require massive amounts of computing power, and there are only a handful of supercomputers that are able to handle the enormous amount of data that must be processed. These supercomputers are in high demand and they are very expensive, so the solution to this is BOINC. BOINC allows researchers to use your computer when you’re not using it. Your computer automatically downloads packets of work, crunches the numbers, and then sends the results back to the lab. And all of this happens when you’re not even using your computer!

For example, SETI@home is probably the most well-known of these projects. In case you don’t know, SETI is an acronym for the “Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence.” SETI@home really started the whole concept. I myself have run SETI@home for years.

The project I recommend is Rosetta@home: “Rosetta@home needs your help to determine the 3-dimensional shapes of proteins in research that may ultimately lead to finding cures for some major human diseases. By running the Rosetta program on your computer while you don’t need it you will help us speed up and extend our research in ways we couldn’t possibly attempt without your help. You will also be helping our efforts at designing new proteins to fight diseases such as HIV, Malaria, Cancer, and Alzheimer’s…”

Are you ready to help? If you’re not yet convinced, start by watching this promotional video for Rosetta@home. (Yeah, the speakers aren’t great but the video actually gets better a minute or two into it. Give it a chance.)

Otherwise, all you need to do is download BOINC and select Rosetta@home as one of your projects. Then watch it go to work! Full instructions can be found at Rosetta@home’s website. If you’d like to get started but are having trouble, feel free to e-mail me (see the About page) and I’ll gladly walk you through the process.

For quite some time, I had made a truce with death. I had discovered some simple truths about my existence here on this beautiful rock and those truths comforted me. Once death no longer bothered me on a daily basis, my fears shifted to the many fates that I consider to be worse than death. But then, in the past few weeks, death has crept back into mind and it is again holding my feet to the fire.

My relapse began with an especially deadly week in my home town. There were a handful of car accidents, all of which claimed at least one life. I won’t go into the details, but one of these was especially brutal and involved an explosion. Then, right on cue, my imagination spun into action and I caught myself imagining — in great detail — the last few moments of the poor driver. My thoughts then shifted to my own vulnerability and the ridiculous naivety in which most of us live our daily lives. I noticed that every time I got into my car I was tense with fear while I wondered whether or not today would be the day.

Read the rest of this entry »

My last post described how a small thing completely knocked me off my feet - how I went from feeling pretty much anxiety free to being afraid of my imminent doom - and how that affected me.

I’m up again. I’m feeling better. I even realized that the “slip” wasn’t all bad because it showed me how far I’ve come. It startled me when I actually felt the difference between “the old” and “the new”. When I fell, I had somewhere to fall from. This realization is fantastic.

I also realize now that I am more sensitive than I thought. It is easier to knock me off my feet than I knew. And there is my new battlefront. As soon as I’ve completely gotten rid of “the feeling of forthcoming doom”, which still rises in me now and then, I’m going to work on my mental toughness. I’m slowly getting to that place again, where I can brush off negative thoughts. When I’m there I’m going to focus on things that might unsettle me and how I can deal with them.

All advice would be welcome.

“Every tomorrow has two handles. We can take hold of it by the handle of anxiety, or by the handle of faith.”
— Author Unknown

This morning I woke up hating Dick Cheney. Not in itself an unusual thing, I suppose, but the twist here is the particular reason I hate him today. You see, I hate Dick Cheney because he has a deep vein thrombosis, or blood clot, in his left leg.

 Blood clots have been a major theme in my health paranoia for quite some time and until this morning I rather thought I had warded their spector off forever. Or at least for a good long while. This morning when I woke up, though, I had a pain in my left leg. Just a sort of vague ache and tense feeling in one particular spot. Naturally the first thing that came to mind was Cheney’s deep vein thrombosis. Yippee!

Of course I have had this feeling over and over again in the past few years and never has it turned out to be anything even remotely dangerous. I get a little ache, a little twinge, a little stiffness in my muscle, I freak out about blood  clots and waste a lot of time and energy worrying, and then it goes away.

So why now? Why did this happen all last Summer, then not for months, and now all of a sudden again? Because both last Summer and in the past week or so I felt stressed out. The causes were different, but the effect was the same: I felt stressed, I worried, I tensed my muscles all over the place without realizing it, and that led to these weird little aches. Intellectually I know this, emotionally it still takes some convincing to make it stick.

But unlike last Summer, I now know the mechanism that is at work. Then I was just flipping out because I couldn’t imagine what could cause these very localized aches other than a blood clot. I had nowhere else to hang the explanation, and I am the sort of person who needs an explanation. That’s a problem in itself, but one for another day.

What’s helping me get through this current pain is knowing that the cause is stress and muscle tension, added to having a general feeling of stress that makes my mind more receptive to these thoughts. That’s the real lesson: watching your panic and seeing where it comes from in your mind. Why are you open to panic right now? Is there anything you can do to remove that source? If not at least you can recognize it for what it is and focus on that instead of the panic.

 Of course that doesn’t help me hate Dick Cheney any less.

Three weeks ago I got a letter. It turned my world upside down. I had been feeling pretty good. Doing well. A letter. Everything suddenly changed.

The letter was almost insignificant. A small piece of paper that instructed me to see my doctor for an innocent checkup. Nothing special. I still got the chills when I read it. I got angry. I was really upset because to me the letter clearly indicated that someone, somewhere, thought I was really sick. The sender thought that there was something wrong with me.

I fumed for a couple of days. I was driving my wife mad. A single letter - 8 lines - had managed to set me back big time. I hadn’t felt this bad for months. I was slipping. Fast.

I’ve already gone to the doctor and I’ve even gotten the results. I am fine. Of course. But I am not. I lost my footing. I fell. Not far (I’m still a long way from that lowest point on the valley floor) but it still hurts. I’ve started moving up again but I feel that I lost some momentum.

But that’s how it goes. You climb, you fall, you pick yourself up and you keep moving. Control the mind, control the climb.

I usually try to stay calm. Not just to deal with the terrible effects of anxiety but also because being angry or annoyed feels good in the short run but, in the long run, it makes life really difficult, especially if you have little control over the circumstances causes your pain. But sometimes, oh sometimes, I just like to get pissed off. So here it is, my constructive way of managing anger. This is a list of things that annoy the shit out of me.

Traffic.

Not too long ago a woman on I-270 decided that I wasn’t keeping up with the stalled traffic, so she laid on her horn. No, I don’t mean she just honked. She held it down for a good ten seconds and then continued to do so. You see, when traffic moves 5 feet, only the morons slam the gas and then immediately slam the brake again. Me? No, that just wastes gas and is hard on my brakes. So I roll up up to the stopped car in front of me. She thought I wasn’t moving fast enough, nevermind the thousands of cars that blocked my path from moving. So, instead of flicking her off or screaming, I just waited for the traffic to move another few feet and I remained still, hoping she’d go around me. Eventually, she nearly killed someone in the lane to the left of me just to get around me, and then I slowly rolled up to her, smiled, and gave her a thumb’s up.

Stupid people.

How you define “stupid?” Well, for me, it’s anyone who is so egocentric that they allow themselves to think that others are just inhabitants of the fantasy world they’ve created for themselves. Stupid people are the ones who are constantly impatient with others, who judge first and ask questions later, who constantly seek social status and define their own happiness by what they own. These people never think about the big picture. They don’t care about the plights of the less-advantaged. They care little for animals (including pets), the environment, history, or other cultures. Their idea of success is having more money than the other guy. Many stupid people hold positions of power because you gotta be an ass to constantly crush your opponents without regard to fairness or justice; in fact, you’ll find many of them in the Federal government.

Anti-Smoking Zealots

I’m a smoker and I try to be a considerate person, so I do my absolute best to make sure that you never have to smell or inhale any of the noxious fumes that I so crave. I’m a strong supporter of totally enclosed smoking sections and some public bans on smoking, but please please don’t give me your treatise on why I shouldn’t be smoking. I’ve heard it all before. I’ve seen the literature.

Bumper Stickers.

This quote from Dimitri Martin pretty much sums it up for me: “I don’t mind bumper stickers. To me a bumper sticker is a shortcut. It’s like a little sign that says ‘Hey, let’s never hang out.’”

Public Cell Phone Chatters

See “Stupid people.”

Television

With the exception of a few shows, television is officially dead to me. By the way, what happened to Saturday morning cartoons? They used to actually be entertaining, for both children and adults. Now they’re just… dumb.

R&B and Modern Rap

I love the old school stuff, but the modern stuff is crap. There’s no rhythm. Most songs can be summed up thus: “I want to have sex with you. I am rich. Look at my car. Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah.”

Advertising.

I often think that my intelligence decreases the more I see advertising. Sure, some level of advertising is helpful, but I now feel like my entire existence is to be a target for advertising. By the way, you can reclaim your Internet browsing experience by using Firefox’s Adblock Plus plug-in. Install this baby and you’ll never see an internet ad again. It’s free, and if you’re not using Firefox… well… you should be.

Phew. That feels better.

A few weeks ago I wrote a post about TeenScreen, a national mental health and suicide risk screening program that is being implemented in some schools. My post was in favor of the program, but reader “Concerned Mom” responded with a well-written rebuttal to my argument, and she called me out on a few of the points. So I’d like to share that comment with you:

————- Concerned Mom Wrote:

What would you think of a diabetes screening for children that had 84% false-positives? (Meaning that 84% of the people screened were falsely identified and didn’t really have the disease?)

Then, with absolutely no objective testing done to show that an actual physical illness existed, treatment was started.

It’s with this view that some parents are objecting to “mental health screening.” The screening “tools” have an 84% false-positive rate. A recent study from Rochester, NY said that this screening should be considered only investigational in nature. The developer of TeenScreen says that the false-positive rate can overwhelm a school with the number of students identified.

Another study shows that 9 out of 10 of the children who see a psychiatrist will come out of the office with a prescription for drugs that the FDA has decided need a “Black Box Warning” for suicidiality.

Screening for mental health is decidely different from scoliosis, hearing vision or diabetes screening, where actual, objective medical testing (x-rays, blood tests, lab work, etc) can be done to determine the existence of disease or problem.

Then there are the issues on school liability. With schools moving into the realm of what has traditionally been the parents job, what are their liabilities?

A lawsuit already exists where a school screened a child without the parents express, written permission. The child came home from school diagnosed with 2 mental disorders. Based on two of her answers, she was told that she was suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder and social anxiety disorder. The OCD diagnosis arose because she answered “yes,” that she did find herself repeatedly doing something she had little or no control over, which according to her meant cleaning her room and doing her chores.

She was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder because she said she felt cut off from friends. She was given no opportunity to say why she felt this way which was because she wasn’t allowed to go out with her friends on school nights. Her parents explain that they don‘t believe children should be out on school nights and so they limit her social occasions to keep her out of trouble.

Also, since when does a screening for scoliosis or vision and hearing have to resort to offering the child “incentives” to bring back the permission form?

TeenScreen repeatedly uses movie and fast food coupons and lottery draws for mall gift certificates to entice the kids to bring back the consent forms from home. Several school have withheld report cards until the child has brought back the form. TeenScreen’s view on this? “Getting the kids to buy in is such an essential thing because for the most part, you’re distributing the consent forms to the kids to bring home to their parents and bring them back. So you have to get their buy in, you have to get them interested in it.”

TeenScreen’s PR company explains why this is important: “Marketing to young people has always been a sensitive topic. But as an audience of 40 million with annual buying power of $364 billion, teens and ‘tweens’ are important customers in the marketplace of products and ideas.”

Then of course, there is the matter of a 10 minute questionnaire being able to correctly identify a child with mental illness. A survey that asks questions such as:

(1) Have you often felt very nervous or uncomfortable when you have been with a group of children or young people - say, like in the lunchroom at school or at a party?

(2) Have you often felt very nervous when you’ve had to do things in front of people?

(3) Have you often worried alot before you were going to play a sport or game or do some other activity?

(4) Has there been a time when you had less energy then you usually do?

(5) Has there been a time when you felt you couldn’t do anything well or that you weren’t as good-looking or as smart as other people?

(6) Has there been a time when nothing was fun for you and you just weren’t interested in anything?

Experts say there is no evidence to support that TeenScreen does anything other than guarantee that a large number of children will end up on drugs. In May 2004, after an in-depth investigation, the United States Preventive Services Task Force issued a report with findings that said:

(1) There is no evidence that screening for suicide risk reduces suicide attempts or mortality; (2) There is limited evidence on the accuracy of screening tools to identify suicide risk; and (3) There is insufficient evidence that treatment of those at high risk reduces suicide attempts or mortality.

Two years later, on June 16, 2006, Ned Calonge, the chairman of the Task Force, and the chief medical officer for the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment, spoke to the Washington Post and said the same findings apply to screening today:

“The panel would reach the same conclusion today… Whether or not we like to admit it, there are no interventions that have no harms… There is weak evidence that screening can distinguish people who will commit suicide from those who will not… And screening inevitably leads to treating some people who do not need it. Such interventions have consequences beyond side effects from drugs or other treatments… Unnecessary care drives up the cost of insurance, causing some people to lose coverage altogether.”

Lastly, any scoliosis, vision, hearing or diabetes screening is not a secretive program. TeenScreen refuses to divulge where they are conducting the screenings, they do not allow parents to view the survey - citing proprietary privileges and copyright protection, and they do not divulge their funding or their sponsors - but their directors and their advisory board is rife with pharmaceutical connections.

So the idea that parents “oppose it solely because they’re uncomfortable with the idea of their children being diagnosed with something that may reflect poorly on” them is not even close to the issue.

There are ways to help our children but screening them for mental health is not one of them.

http://www.petitiononline.com/TScreen/petition.html

19,609 parents, doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists, teachers, social workers and nurses agree, Stop TeenScreen!

Lately it seems that I’ve been hearing a LOT of people in my life ask “why” questions. “Why do I have panic attacks?” “Why do they happen?” “Why don’t the meds work?” and even in non-Panic/Anxiety realms of my life I hear “Why don’t I have a boyfriend/girlfriend?” “Why didn’t I get that job?” “Why did that have to happen?”

I’m sympathetic to the problems of others. Compassionate even. I truly do care about the suffering of my fellow human beings, and I hope that my prayers and thoughts — and even my listening — will help them find some relief.

But lately I say - “Why ask why?” And what I mean is, in all my recovery, spiritual learning and best mindful living the ‘why’ questions just seem to lead me further into insanity and fear. Who could possibly answer my why question? Another human being? God? And as I’ve sought peace in my life, rather than a particular physical or material answer I’ve learned that there are far more valuable questions I can ask.

Such as: “How can I help?” or “What can I do now?” or even “Am I okay right this minute?” The longer I work on formulating a helpful question, the more I am beginning to see how VERY helpful it is. Maybe not for the person who wants to know why. But it seems to make all the difference for me.

My panic attacks are virtually gone. My anxiety level rarely gets above a 4 on a 10 point scale. I’m aware when things are getting dicey, and I ask “What can I do to help myself?” and I answer with one of the many tools at my disposal. I have questions that lead me back to healing processes. Experiences and choices that really work for me.

It is not out of indifference or lack of caring that I say “why ask why?” but out of a great hope that whoever is asking that question, may find a more helpful question … AND an answer.

Hi all — just posting to stay in touch. I’m reading the posts, and they’re really terrific. I just have so much going on right now that my meditation and reflection time (the little that I have) is pretty much sitting and calming my mind. I still do that daily — it sustains me.

But I haven’t had the time to work on some of the more creative and informative posts that I wanted to share here. I sit down at the computer and several “real-life” demands come whizzing my way.

So, I’m going with it — handling things fine, actually. No panic. No anxiety. Just busy, busy, busy. And, rather than adding guilt to my daily mix, I thought I’d simply post a hello and a note to say “I’m Busy.”

This is progress for me!

I was thinking over my last entry and the whole idea of perception of the world and I thought about it in a different way than I ever have, something that really made it more concrete for me. I’m sure it’s nothing original: lots of other people must have explained it this way before, but it was a small revelation to me.

One of my problems has always been not completely being able to accept that I have a distorted view of reality. I know that I do because I’ve thought I was dying every day in a row for months on end, and haven’t died yet. But still there was a part of my brain that said “hang on a second, you go to work every day and do a good job, people there have no idea of anything going on with you, most of your family has no idea, you’re smart and think about all kinds of impressive stuff, how can you be that wrong?” A valid question, I guess.

While I was pondering the notion of depression and anxiety colouring my perception, I took the phrase more literally than usual and the image of stage lighting gels pop into my head. If you put on a blue gel, everything looks blue and the scene is suddenly under water. If you put on a yellow gel, everything looks yellow and bright and sunny. It’s all the same stuff as before, but literally in a different light. I could suddenly see my depression and anxiety as a gel put over my view of the world.

Like I said, this isn’t anything like an original thought, but it helped me finally answer that nagging question. I was not that wrong: I was still seeing the real world, but through a filter that was enhancing some things and screening out others.

I don’t often write personal stories, mostly because I feel that my own life is largely irrelevant to the topics of our discussion, but also because I’m a private person and I don’t particularly enjoy writing about myself. But I’m going to break with tradition here and share a personal story with you. I apologize ahead of time for the length. I am not known for brevity.

Yesterday, for the first time in a long time, I decided to listen to Sublime’s “40oz to Freedom,” an album that I spent a lot of time with in my younger years. I sometimes call this period of my life “my greater youth” because, in the strict sense of Earth’s revolutions around the Sun, I am still young (26, to be exact). Yet, I often feel as though I’ve been through enough to qualify as an octogenarian. I age in dog years.

My youth (referring to my “greater youth” here) was a turbulent time. It was filled with drama, drugs, alcohol, and a level of naiveté that I can barely stomach to remember. I thought I knew what was going on. I thought I knew who I was, where I was going, and what life was all about. I thought I knew what I wanted. Frankly, I was a moron. It would take me many years to learn that these things are ever-changing and we can never know them for more than a few moments. Yet, in the span of time that it took me to go from “moron” to the present moment, I rarely listened to Sublime’s 40oz. Instead, the album had become a headstone for an era of my life that was gone: “Here lies Josh’s Greater Youth. 1990-2000. RIP.”

Although I had listened to this album on occasion since my youth, I never really listened to it in the same way that I once did. Instead of hearing the lyrics and singing along (or yelping, rather) as I used to when I was younger, I later used it as a form of background noise. The battered tape (and later the CD) would often find its way to the stereo when some old friends came over for a few beers and to reminisce of the days before marriage and children. Unfortunately, those visits by old friends have become increasingly rare. But yesterday, when I listened to “40oz to Freedom,” I heard the album with new ears. I listened to it in a way that I hadn’t since I was 16.

Yesterday was a rough day. You know the ones: where everyone around you seems rude and inconsiderate; these are the days when you hit all of the red lights, the radio is playing nothing worth listening to, your cell phone battery has died, you haven’t gotten enough sleep, and your mind is consumed with worry over something you have no control over. To top it off, I was on my daily drive home from work and, as usual, I was stuck in a mound of traffic. I had a long ride ahead of me.

I thought listening to Sublime would cheer me up, much in the same way that it had when I was younger. So I removed the CD from the case, put it in the deck, and lit a cigarette.

After a few minutes of listening to it, I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. I felt as if I wanted to cry — and not a girly cry either, one of those manly outbursts that involves bashing the steering wheel — but I wasn’t sure why. Yeah, it had been a rough day but it wasn’t that bad. What the hell was wrong with me?

My first instinct was to remove the CD, chuck it into the back seat of the car, and forget that it existed; but I know that my first instinct is usually the wrong one. If I ran from this pain — whatever its source — I wouldn’t be able to develop an understanding of it and, instead, it would control me and potentially send me into a depression. So I listened on, paying close attention to both the music and to the way it made me feel. I listened to the entire album this way (except for the two songs I’ve always hated). I carefully tracked my thoughts as they bounced around, latching on to painful mental images and memories of both laughter and tears.

I never knew Sublime’s vocalist and lead guitarist, Bradley Nowell, but I had always felt that I had. I’ve listened to every song he’d ever written, covered, or been featured in. I can still sing most of them verbatim, without missing a beat (even when the lyrics are in Spanish). I bought every Sublime album, even if I’d already heard all of the songs on it. I even bought albums I didn’t need when I found them cheap at pawn shops and used record stores (I gave them away to friends). I couldn’t bear the sight of seeing a Sublime album sitting amongst the sad stack of forgotten singles and one-hit-wonders.

Even in the years since I had stopped listening to Sublime, I unintentionally discovered many of Nowell’s reggae influences. On more than one occasion I would buy a reggae album (most likely recorded in the 60s or 70s), only to find that the lyrics were the same as those Nowell used thirty years later. In other words, many of Nowell’s songs were covers of older reggae songs, even though I didn’t know it at the time. For example, a few years ago I bought an album by Toots and Maytals and I was shocked to learn that Sublime’s “5446 Was My Number” was actually a cover.

Bradley Nowell was, in a sense, someone I looked up to. He was fun-loving, articulate, intelligent, and — like me — addicted to his own pain. His emotional problems would eventually lead him to a fatal heroin overdose in May of 1996. He left behind a wife and a young son, Jakob. Nowell’s tragic death saddened me in ‘96 and continues to sadden me today. But what really strikes me is the memory of Lou Dog, Nowell’s beloved dalmatian (see the image to the right). Nowell often mentioned Lou Dog (or “Louie”) in his music. Here’s a brief story that I think helps to explain Nowell’s love for his pet:

In the early 1990s, Lou Dog disappeared for a week. In the video Sublime — Stories, Tales, Lies, & Exaggerations, Troy Nowell (Bradley Nowell’s widow) says that for the week during which Lou Dog was lost, Nowell spent a great deal of time lying on the couch crying in response to the loss of his dog. Lou Dog was eventually returned to Nowell, who, in response to the situation, later covered the Camper Van Beethoven song “The Day That Lassie Went To The Moon” and changed it to “Lou Dog Went to the Moon.” While Lou was missing Nowell also recorded this song to his home answering machine as a sort of audio lost dog poster.

When I first heard of Nowell’s death in 1996, I clearly remember thinking, “At least Lou Dog lives on.” For some strange reason, I was comforted by the knowledge that Lou Dog was alive and would somehow be a testament to Nowell’s memory. Sure, Nowell’s son Jakob, his wife, and his band-mates survived but, for some reason, I was particularly attached to Lou Dog. Or, more specifically, I was attached to the idea that Lou Dog survived, an idea that I would continue to hold… until yesterday.

As I listened to the album in my car, I traced my thoughts back to the first moment when I began to feel sad. I figured it was a good way to try to find the root of what made me so uncomfortable. I soon realized that this moment occurred in the first few seconds of the first track, “Waiting for My Ruca,” where Nowell can be heard saying “Good dog” as Lou Dog barks at something (or someone?). As I thought about this, I found that my thoughts then turned to the many memories that I created while listening to this music. Then, they veered off and I began thinking about Lou Dog, and I realized that he must’ve died by now. This is where the sadness knotted up in my throat. Lou Dog is dead. Bradley Nowell is dead. Sublime is gone. My youth is gone. My innocence, my naiveté, and many of my friends have gone with them. My attachment to Lou Dog’s survival was actually an attachment to my youth and to the crutches that I used to get through it all.

I now know that Lou Dog died on September 17, 2001, only six days after the terrorist attacks, about five years after Bradley Nowell had died. When Louie died, I probably wasn’t paying much attention to anything other than the cable news channels. The terrorist attacks had gripped my attention as they had most other Americans. The fires at Ground Zero were still smoldering. And in the frenzy of it all, Lou Dog died and I did not notice.

What mattered to me so much in 1996 slipped by me unnoticed only five short years later. I had forgotten Sublime and Lou Dog. Although it’s difficult to verbalize, I think Lou Dog became a sort of archetype for me during those years I spent in an alcohol-and-drug-fueled depression. Don’t get me wrong: I never really paid much attention to it then. It wasn’t as if I had built a shrine for Sublime, Nowell, or Lou Dog. It was much more subtle than that. In fact, it wasn’t until just yesterday that I realized how many times I’d listened to that album in despair and found joy to hear Lou Dog’s bark, or to hear Nowell mention him in a song. It wasn’t until yesterday that I realized how many times I’d visualized Lou Dog and Nowell, running to and fro, having fun and getting into trouble. Sure, these were just fantasies born out of the music’s imagery, but they were well-played in my mind’s eye and they were a source of comfort to me during some of the darkest years of my life.

I’ve always been a dog person and many of the bonds I’ve formed with my dogs are often stronger than those I form with humans. Yesterday, when I realized that both Bradley and Lou Dog were gone, I also realized that a part of me was gone as well. It also reminded me of my own impermanence and the fragility of my own life, my family, and my beloved bulldog, Abigail. None of us last forever. And I also recognized that the passage of time alone cannot heal old wounds. We must attend to them. My refusal to accept the departure of Lou Dog (and, subsequently, of my innocence) only existed because I failed to confront it. I know that I must learn to live with death, loss, pain, anger, and fear. These things are an unpleasant but natural part of being alive. I cannot avoid them, I cannot hate them, or even loathe them. They just are.

I never personally knew Bradley Nowell or Lou Dog. But I knew them and I loved them. So I thank Sublime and Bradley Nowell for their inspiration, their great music, and for the many smiles they gave me during times when the Sun didn’t want to shine. And to Lou Dog: Goodbye my old friend. I’ll check in from time to time.

Hi, I’m Pete. By way of introduction, let me tell you two stories.

One particular day my wife had a class at 5:00, but she said they would just be getting into groups for an assignment and she should be out most likely by 5:45 or 6:00. I decided to hang out in my office and she could call me when she was done. Except that 6:00 came and went, then 6:30, and then it was coming up on 7:00 when my building closes. I couldn’t imagine what had happened to her. Or, rather, I could imagine all kinds of horrible things. She might have had an accident on the way to school. Maybe we got our signals crossed and she was expecting me to take the bus home. When do busses stop running in Detroit? It’s past 7:00 now, maybe they’re already done. Do I even have change? Her cell phone just kicks over to voicemail, so that’s even more frustrating. My my office was locked up so I had to get out and wander around our corner of Detroit worrying about the intentions of every man I saw walking towards me. I had no idea what to do, I was out of my mind, paralyzed by panic.

That’s how that story would have run if it had happened this past August. That was before medication, before therapy, and above all before I had a good understanding of how anxiety and panic were colouring my perception of the world. This is how it actually happened last night: I was hanging out in my office expecting to hear from my wife at about 5:45 or 6:00, but by nearly 7:00, when the office floors of my building lock up for the night, I still hadn’t heard anything and her cell phone just kicked over to voicemail. It occurred to me that she might have had an accident or that maybe I had misunderstood and she was expecting me to take the bus home. It also occurred to me that maybe the prof had decided to talk a lot longer about the group project than she had thought he would. I couldn’t stay in my office anymore, so I walked over to the parking structure to see if the car is in the usual spot. On the way my phone buzzed. Her class rang longer than she thought and she couldn’t get out to call me earlier, but she’d be at the car in 5 minutes.

Obviously this isn’t saying much about how you can overcome anxiety, nor is there any one way to do it. Everyone has to find what works for them and then stick with it until it stops working. My point here is that you can get better. During the Summer I would hardly have believed it was possible to feel calm again. It seemed like it was against the laws of nature, this is how I was and it was how I would stay. Now I can hardly put myself back in my old mindset. Overcoming anxiety isn’t easy, but regardless of what your panic tells you, it is very possible and you have to KNOW that.

I’d like to write some posts on Jung’s psychology and how it has helped me deal with panic and anxiety. I don’t want to write long missives or treatises, so I just thought I’d put my intention out here for a few days and then post some stuff. If anyone finds it too boring or confusing just tell me to shut up!!

In a nice way, of course! LOL!

Here’s a story from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel about a woman whose phobia of doctors and “medical settings” caused her to overlook the growth of a uterine fibroid, a “benign [tumor] composed of muscle and connective tissue that develop within or along the uterine wall.” Her tumor had grown so large that she appeared to be seven months pregnant.

Interestingly, her phobia doesn’t seem to have been directly connected with a fear of disease. Rather, it was doctors, hospitals and the like that caused her anxiety, which manifested in the form of a panic attack. Most of us deal with a fear of disease, which in turn often translates to a fear of death, and this usually have two outcomes: 1) We seek a doctor’s assistance more often in the hopes that it’ll allay our fears; or 2) We avoid doctors because the thought of discovering illness is enough to provoke anxiety.

If you fall into the first category, here’s a bit of advice: You should always see a doctor when you’re concerned about serious health problems, but once you’ve done so, you have to let it go. You can visit a doctor every week and your fears would still not be contained. Constantly seeking reassurance only encourages anxiety and allows it take root. You have to find the strength to resist the urge to run to the doctor every time you sneeze. Try to be rational about it by explaining your symptoms to an unbiased third-party.

If you’re a member of the second category, try to keep regular doctor’s appointments regardless of how you feel. This allows you to experience the doctor’s office without the fear of discovering a terrible illness. If you were to visit only when you’re experiencing high anxiety, then you’ll quickly associate the doctor with high anxiety.

In his book The Miracle of Mindfulness, Thich Nhat Hahn says the following:

While practicing mindfulness, don’t be dominated by the distinction between good and evil, thus creating a battle within oneself.

Whenever a wholesome thought arises, acknowledge it: “A wholesome thought has just arisen.” If an unwholesome thought arises, acknowledge it as well: “An unwholesome thought has just arisen.” Don’t dwell on it or try to get rid of it. To acknowledge it is enough. If they are still there, acknowledge they are still there. If they have gone, acknowledge they have gone. That way the practitioner is able to hold of his mind and to obtain the mindfulness of the mind.

This is a practice that you can begin right now. By objectively observing your mind, you can learn to detatch yourself from your inner monologue. When you get caught up in a stream of unconscious negative or fearful thoughts, the result will be anxiety, sadness, or a panic attack. Instead, direct your attention to being an outside observer.

When you labale your thoughts as “good” or “bad” or “nice” or “scary,” you’re not objectively observing and you’re creating an emotional response to your thought processes. A major part of overcoming anxiety and depression is learning not to attribute too much emotional meaning to your thoughts.

Again, the practice of mindfulness requires practice, but do not give up. The rewards are well worth your effort.

In my years of navigating anxiety-related internet forums, I’ve often seen the question of pregnancy arise. I’ve always been wary about responding to such questions because I’m a male and don’t have the benefit of personal experience and because there’s very little reliable information to be found on the topic.

Most respondents attempt to assure the woman that anxiety during pregnancy is harmless to the fetus, but that never seemed very logical to me, considering that a developing fetus is very sensitive to everything. But this puts us in a bind: mothers who constantly worry about their anxiety are only going to make it worse, thereby compounding the potential effects on the unborn child. Additionally, if the woman chooses to take SSRIs during pregnancy, this introduces a whole new variable into the equation.

So, to help understand this complicated question, The Anxiety Disorders Association of America has a special feature this month on this very topic. If you’ve ever asked questions about anxiety and pregnancy, this article will definitely be of interest to you.

I’ve been away from the blog for a while and my absence was no mistake. I put in for a bunch of leave at work, shut down my computer at home (well… mostly), and decided to take a breather. Unfortunately, anxiety has a way of attacking just as you’ve kicked your feet back for a moment’s rest. It’s almost as if not worrying is a cause for worry.

So, most of my holiday break was spent dealing with a chronic nagging anxiety that annoyed me in the same way that a yellow-jacket does when you’re outdoors in the summer with a refreshing can of Coke or a glass of iced tea. Every time you go to take a sip, you have to look closely at your drink to ensure that you aren’t going to swallow anything… painful.

Trying to relax is about as useful as trying not to panic. Relaxation — in the “vacation” sense, that is — isn’t something you can actively seek. The very act of seeking destroys the sense of relaxation. Instead, relaxation is (at least for me) best described as letting go. When I aim to relax, I aim to let go of everything… temporarily. I think of it like carrying a heavy burden. If you carrying a boulder, you can’t relax without first dropping it. If you’re smart, you’ll put it down for a few minutes, catch your breath, then pick it up again to continue forward.

It was in this spirit that I spent my vacation. I dropped the boulder, plopped my ass on it, and poured myself a glass of iced tea. I then spent the next few days swatting at the yellow-jacket. In other words, the moment I stopped carrying the boulder was the moment I began worrying about how I would pick it up again. Instead of enjoying the freedom of being without my burden, I gave myself something else to worry about. I traded one boulder for another.

But this vacation was not without its successes. I spent a lot of time with my wife, my family, and my friends. Most importantly, I didn’t try to fight anxiety or any other battles. Sometimes the battles make their way to your doorstep, but this doesn’t mean you must always engage them.

The next time a yellow-jacket goes after your Coke, try setting out a small glass just for him and his friends. Of course, be sure to put it a few feet from you. This is a much smarter solution than allowing them to annoy you while you try to relax.

Because I’ve dealt with Panic and Anxiety for a long time I sometimes think I’ve got a handle on it. That somehow I’ve learned the tricks and can dodge the bullets. And so sometimes a panic attack will come out of the blue, knock me on my butt and remind me that THAT is not how it works.

Dealing with the reality of Panic and Anxiety is not about cobbling together a protective shield of magical thinking. In fact, that can sometimes be very detrimental to the full, rich life I want to live.

No, dealing with Panic and Anxiety has become for me a daily practice. It is spiritual in nature. And it has more to do with acceptance and surrender, which is not the same as weak and helpless. It is an active process of trusting whatever is happening, and knowing that I am part of a bigger power. That I can, and will, survive the slings and arrows of life not because I have tricked myself into believing everything is okay. But I will survive and thrive because everything IS okay. Even the stuff that feels very un-okay, like a panic attack.

So my practice is about staying present to what is. Not getting caught up in what I want it to be or what it should be or what it will be next year. But if I can take my mind down to this minute and truly be IN that minute, then I’m not only okay, I’m at peace.

And ultimately, that’s where I live my best life. At peace. And in the moment.

The holidays are looming, and many shy people are dreading the season’s numerous social events. But you don’t have to let shyness spoil your holidays. WebMD spoke with experts about what you can do now to prepare.

Read the rest at WebMD.

In a follow-up to a previous post, I found a great article for dealing with holiday stress and anxiety. This HealthNewsDigest article has a lot of great tips on how to manage your stress during the holidays.

And here’s another article (from the El Paso Times) about stress and anxiety during the holidays. It’s a good read. Here’s an excerpt:

Dr. Luisa Castellaños, a psychologist also in Las Cruces, said some of the holiday letdowns stem from comparing one’s experience to a Hallmark card family-type portrayal that all families should be happy at this time.

“It is an illusion,” she said. “A lot of people don’t have that and feel lonely or left out because it’s not real for them. A lot of family issues and family losses come up during this time. The material aspects we see on television misconstrues the holidays for some, and stress develops when they can’t meet the high expectations they set for themselves. Parents feel guilty, and I hear them say they feel bad because they don’t have enough money to buy presents.”

This from the AP via CBSNews.com:

Nearly half of all women in the United States suffer from increased stress during the holidays, a condition that contributes to rising levels of comfort eating, drinking and other coping mechanisms that can lead to weight gain, according to a survey conducted in October by the American Psychological Association.

A national stress survey the association conducted in January showed one in four people in the United States agrees that “when I am feeling down or facing a problem, I turn to food to help me feel better.” The October survey showed that the proportion increases to one in three people during the holidays.

[...]

The holiday season is the most emotional time of the year for many Americans, particularly for women who often feel pressured to make it special to those they care about, said Sharon Gordetsky, a psychologist who specializes in children, families and issues of female development.

Even in families where fathers play a bigger role in parenting, child caring and household work, “women tend to often still do more of the planning, do more of the nurturing, do more of the social and family organization” for the holidays, said Gordetsky, an assistant professor at the Tufts-New England Medical Center’s Comprehensive Family Evaluation Center.

This article really covers multiple topics. The first is the title topic: stress eating. A second is holiday stress. A third is women’s role during the holidays.

I’d like to address the first topic by saying that stress eating is not much different than any other coping mechanism for stress and anxiety. Therefore, I think the findings of this study are rather obvious.

But I find the second and third topics more interesting. When my grandmother was alive, she was the central hub around which our family planned all holiday activities. She was the point-of-contact, the organizer, the procurement specialist, and an endless source of joy for all of us. When she died in 1995 of cancer, our lives changed permanently: the family stopped gathering at Thanksgiving and Christmas for our annual dinners. The phone ceased to ring as often. Our Christmas tree was virtually void of gifts. Eventually, the family nearly stopped talking altogether. In short, when my grandmother died, much of our family died with her.

In addition, I find the pattern somewhat repeating in my immediate family. To me, the holidays are a time when I want to relax. I feel as though I deserve to relax. My wife, on the other hand, sees it as a limited time offer to get everybody together at various points in various places to eat various meals and to, hopefully, have a cheery time. For me — and for many men — cheeriness is most often accompanied by silence. Yet women seem to be more social in their holiday goals which, in my opinion, creates loads of unnecessary stress.

So here I’m presenting two different pictures of the same phenomenon. In the first, my grandmother was the matriach who virtually created Christmas from her cheeky smile; in the second, my wife seems to run herself thin trying to make Christmas perfect when, in my opinion, a perfect Christmas is the one where I don’t have to leave my home.

What do you think?

I don’t watch a lot of primetime television because I typically find it to be mind-numingly stupid and boring. My wife, on the other hand, prefers to watch mindless television for the same reason I avoid it: because it’s mindless. I’m always picky about what I watch as I believe that consuming bad television makes for a bad attitude; or, at the very least, a dull mind.

So I’m always tickled when I find a television show that is both smart and funny. The last show that I really enjoyed was Northern Exposure. Although there have been a few gems since then, I think NBC’s Scrubs is, by far, the best show on television right now. Believe it or not, this comedy is absolutely packed with clever little nuggets of worldly life advice. I’d like to share one with you.

In the episode entitled “My Balancing Act,” J.D is trying to find a diagnosis for a patient, Mr. Yaeger, with odd symptoms. His mentor, Dr. Cox, is overseeing J.D.’s progress:

J.D.: So, judging from the ataxia dysarthia and the mental status change, I’ve concluded that Mr. Yeager is suffering from… Kuru.

Dr. Cox: Kuru?

J.D.: Kuru.

Dr. Cox: Kuru.

J.D.: Yes, Kuru.

Dr. Cox: Wow. I’d actually never thought of that.

J.D.: Hell yeah!

Dr. Cox: Were you aware that the only documented cases of Kuru were members of a cannibalistic tribe in eastern Papua New Guinea?

J.D.: I was not.

Mr. Yeager: Actually, Doc, I was in New Guinea just last week.

J.D.: Really?

Mr. Yeager: No.

Dr. Cox: Newbie, do you happen to know what a zebra is?

J.D.: That patient just mocked me!

Dr. Cox: It’s a diagnosis of a ridiculously obscure disease when it’s much more likely that the patient has a common illness presenting with uncommon symptoms. In other words, if you hear hoof-beats, you just go ahead and think horsies — not zebras. Mm’kay, Mr. Silly Bear?

The moral of the story is this: many of us deal with anxiety surrounding health issues, be it physical or mental health. Much of this anxiety is usually rooted around a few “strange” symptoms which seem particularly bothersome.

Regardless, even when you have strange or uncommon symptoms, it makes much more sense to “think horsies” rather than to presume “zebras.” In other words, your self-diagnosis of horrible diseases is most likely bullshit. It’s much more likely that your symptoms are indicative of a common illness or even of the anxiety itself, even if the symptoms themselves are uncommon.

If you hear hoof-beats, think horsies. And watch Scrubs. It’s probably the only show on television I can happily endorse as being worth your time.

I’ve decided to keep my eyes on something I want: peace. And how do I get it?

Well, what I’ve noticed is that it is in the details. In the nearly private, and certainly mundane encounters that I have with individuals every day - I can choose peace. Or I can choose to get huffy, be offended, get cranky and spout off at someone.

But I’ve made this decision about peace, right?

So when I’m standing in line at the Post Office and they are moving at a snail’s pace with only one window open at noon during Christmas I can either get pissed off, make sarcastic (but very clever) comments to those around me, or I can choose peace. I can close my eyes and breathe. I can focus on a child, dressed in holiday clothes with a look of wonder as she plays with a stuffed toy. I can imagine all the happy faces of people recieving the packages. I can say a silent prayer for the folks who work at the Post Office, and be grateful that it isn’t me.

When I’m stuck in traffic by the mall entrances I can holler at the idiots who pull out without looking and nearly sideswipe my car. Or I can focus on “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” playing on the radio and remember watching “Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown” as a kid, and how this was my favorite carol. I can be grateful that I’m in a comfortable car, with heat, and not scurrying around at the mall on my lunch hour or worse yet having to go work there till all hours getting harrangued by shoppers.

And if the pharmacist can’t understand my request I can get huffy and offended, raising my voice in anger and indignation, repeating it as if this imbecile should be working in a rock quarry instead of filling my prescriptions. Or, I can put a smile on my face, and say it again, and again and again, with patience, with compassion. And with peace. That is my choice.

I’m finding that if I choose peace, in these encounters and in my own thoughts about my life and my fears, that I can actually live in this place. For periods of time I can actually have peace on earth - at least in my little corner of the world.

Maybe you’ve noticed that I’m a huge NPR fan. It’s a constant companion on my morning and evening commutes. In fact, I find it to be one of the few things that keeps me from noticing that I’m sitting in mile after dehumanizing mile of traffic. My drive to work is almost exactly 32 miles, which, if driven at the average speed limit of 60, should take me no longer than 32 minutes. This morning, my commute took me just shy of 3 hours. How’s that for rat race, eh?

Anyway, I’ve had this story bookmarked for week or two. As usual, I heard it on NPR (hence the rant above). Catherine Royce has ALS, but rather than allow the disease to destroy her life in the same way that it destroys her body, she’s found an uplifting way to view her illness. Anyone who has ever dealt with anxiety surrounding disease and illness should listen to this story. Don’t just read it, listen to it. Here’s a short snippet of what to expect:

Every day I choose not only how I will live, but if I will live. I have no particular religious mandate that forbids contemplating a shorter life, an action that would deny this disease its ultimate expression. But this is where my belief in choice truly finds its power. I can choose to see ALS as nothing more than a death sentence, or I can choose to see it as an invitation — an opportunity to learn who I truly am.

To listen, just follow this link to the story and click on “Listen” under the title.

Dave’s great post on happiness reminded me that I’d been saving a few bookmarks for you. I’ve always been fascinated by the pursuit of happiness. My personal search for peace eventually led me in a complete circle (maybe I’ll go into more detail on this at a later date) and I ultimately decided that the best route to happiness was to stop trying to change the outside world to fit my ideal vision of it and, instead, to change my vision of reality to be a more positive one.

Anyway, when articles appear in the press about happiness, I usually read and bookmark them. Here are a few of my bookmarks from the past week or so.

• Study: Money-Happiness Link is Complex
• Happy People Catch Fewer Colds
• Researchers Seek Routes to Happier Life
• The Art of Happiness, by Prescription (highly recommended article)

What does it mean to be “happy”?

Do we “deserve” to be happy?

Can we “truly” ever be happy?

Can I type a sentence without using “quotes”?

These are questions I think about a lot lately. The assumption is that only I can make myself happy. That the key to true happiness is somehow a mystical journey of self-exploration that requires deep soul searching along with wisdom of the ages.

Of course, I think this is crap.

Nathaniel Hawthorne said, “Happiness is as a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but which if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.” I take this to mean that looking for happiness is futile. Happiness finds you, not the other way around.

Benjamin Disraeli said, “Action may not always bring happiness; but there is no happiness without action.”

From this, I gather that we aren’t owed happiness. There isn’t a government happiness program (although the medical marijuana program sounds pretty close). So if we’re not owed it and we can’t chase it, how do we get it? This is a paradox. If you chase it you won’t find it, but if you spend your life waiting for it it’ll never come to you.

Finally, Buddha says, “You may search all your life for a person more deserving of happiness than you, but you will never find one.” So while we’re not owed it, according to Buddha, we deserve it.

So, happiness is something that we aren’t owed but we deserve, something we can’t chase but must be found. Much like the Sage in the Tao, the happy man neither chases happiness nor waits for it, he just is happy. This flies in the face of the anxious and the worrisome. Maybe that’s why we are so unhappy so often. Because, the one thing we think we’re missing, the thing that could conceivably cure us, is rendered unattainable by the affliction.

Its a “simple” chicken or egg problem. The problem is figuring out if happiness has feathers or a shell…

MSNBC has an interesting article on stress and its place in our society. Interestingly, the article makes an important point about the social value of stress. Take this, for example:

“People are now determining their self-worth on how busy they are and how much they have to do,” she says.

Competitive stressing seems to blend two of our favorite pastimes: bragging and complaining.

[...]

When someone goes on about how he works 14 hours a day and doesn’t see his family and hasn’t had a vacation and doesn’t get any sleep and, by the way, has 2,000 unopened e-mails, what he’s really saying is: I’m a very important and valuable person.

[...]

Stress is also a handy ready-made excuse for all sorts of bad behaviors, from being grumpy to making a mistake. You are so frazzled you only got four hours of sleep, after all.

Surely we’ve all done this at some point. I know I have. Stress is a common complaint and, when used tactfully, complaining about stress is an easy way to garner support, sympathy, and even to avoid more work. But is this bad? Why would we complain so much about stress if we weren’t really stressed? The answer is likely mor