The past couple of years have stripped away my protective layers, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed.
I’ve long been familiar with anxiety; it’s almost like an old friend. From being pulled away from my mother’s side by a teacher every morning in elementary school to feeling overwhelmed during group activities, I’ve navigated through life as if it’s a minefield. I remember the panic that gripped me on my first morning in college—my heart raced as I pleaded with my parents to take me back home.
Despite years of therapy and the establishment of healthy boundaries, my anxiety has recently surged, even as Covid restrictions lift and some positivity returns to the world. Why does it feel like my anxiety is at an all-time high?
The last two years have stripped away the layers of safety I carefully built. I feel like a turtle without its shell, with my nervous system laid bare. Simple tasks, like parking at the grocery store, send my heart racing as I imagine all the worst-case scenarios—like my toddler choking on a blueberry. I find myself leaving social gatherings early, consumed by thoughts that someone might be upset with me or that my child has had an accident at home.
Recently, I attended a high-intensity workout class after a long break. I dove right in without warming up, and the soreness that followed was brutal. The next day was tough, but the day after that felt unbearable. A former workout buddy once dubbed this the “forty-eight hour effect,” and I sense I’m experiencing a mental version of it now.
The last two years have been a prolonged period of anxiety for myself and my family. As life begins to normalize—at least on the pandemic front—I wonder if my mind is still catching up. Perhaps it pushed me through the challenges and is now reacting with fatigue and stress similar to how my body felt after an intense workout. Two years of relentless change and worry have undoubtedly taken their toll. The world remains chaotic, from climate crises to global conflicts, and the pandemic has dismantled my ability to compartmentalize my feelings.
As a somewhat introverted person, retreating into my shell during the pandemic has left its scars. I’ve worked hard to build my social confidence for my family’s sake, attending events and engaging with others. Now, however, social situations trigger a desire to escape, and interactions often leave me feeling awkward, as if I have food stuck in my teeth or my clothes are mismatched.
As someone who has always thought in terms of “worst-case scenarios,” the flood of anxiety-inducing information over the last two years—especially during my pregnancy and the birth of my fourth child—has taken a toll. I find myself in a constant state of heightened worry about both significant and trivial matters. My baseline calm has shifted, leaving me in a perpetual state of high cortisol, leading to irritability and unease.
Could this be a typical reaction to parenting during a global pandemic? Perhaps so. Even as the world starts to reopen, I feel burnt out and overwhelmed. I’m simply trying to keep going, hoping this phase will pass. My daughter bravely walks into her classroom without a mask, while I navigate my own anxieties.
I’m granting myself more time to heal. I’ll let go of expectations and stop questioning my feelings because, in reality, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’ve endured and navigated a global pandemic while raising children, which is no small feat. It will undoubtedly take more than a short period to process the full impact of that experience. I plan to continue my sessions with my understanding therapist, possibly adjust my medication, and prioritize physical activity several times a week. I’ll shower my children with love and confront my fears with rationality when panic arises. I’ll also reach out to friends, many of whom are feeling similarly. With time, I hope the weight of it all will begin to lift.
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