Category archives: No Fear
It happens every September. That
moment when I notice how the sky has taken on a brilliant blue hue that happens
only in fall. The angle of the sun hits in a way that makes everything glow.
The air takes on a crispness even when the temps are high.
It’s at that moment each year when
my heart sings, full of joy I can hardly contain. Maybe it’s because I was born
in October, but fall has always been my favorite season. The world seems at its
When I entered my 40s two years
ago, I ...
This week I found myself sobbing
uncontrollably in the bathroom. This was unexpected given that I’m not at all a
crybaby. (Friends have told me I’d feel better if I cried more, but isn’t
stoicism so much more productive?)
It seems, however, the transition from
renting urbanite to suburban home owner—and all that entailed mentally and
physically—had taken me down the road toward a pity party of one.
What I’ve learned about transitions in
the past decade is that they are essential to our growth, but they are also
akin to forging through Dante ...
Just over a week ago I
swallowed what I hope was the last pill for anxiety control that I will ever
take. After six months of medically induced mellowness, I felt ready to boost
my serotonin levels on my own. Plus, I really missed my libido.
The medication had taken
the edge off my anxious personality, but it also made me slightly numb (in more
ways than one) and unmotivated. I’d lost my internal fire and I wanted some of it back.
Many people have anxiety levels that may require lifelong medication, but for others, making lifestyle changes
Old fears are hard habits to break. This morning I
had to interview a researcher by phone for an article I’m writing. I’ve
actually interviewed her before in person and she’s lovely, smart and down to
earth—not intimidating at all.
So why did I wake up feeling like I’d eaten rocks?
The only logical answer is that my anxiousness is a throwback to my days as a
shy child and teenager—the days when asking anyone anything felt like torture. How
I got through journalism school, I’ll never know.
I’ve interviewed hundreds of ...
Today, I accepted a prescription for
anti-anxiety medication and made my first appointment with a psychotherapist. I
left the doctor’s office nauseous and wondering if my brain could physically
explode out the back of my head.
Plenty of my friends have extolled the virtues
of medication and therapy, particularly during transitional times of life. I’ve
You see, medications and therapy mean asking for
help. Not only do I have an aversion to asking for help, but I go blatantly out
of my way to avoid it.
Asking for help means being vulnerable. It would
be like ...