I have so many memories of emotional breakdowns as a child, teen, and young adult. I can remember being curled up in the bathroom of a close friend, calling my mom and having her pick me up after a panic attack when I was in high school. I remember doing the same thing at a different friend's house in middle school. I remember sitting on the floor as an elementary schooler, crying and hyperventilating and not being able to explain why. There was a time as an adult when I had to park my car and call a friend because I was frozen and unable to breathe in the parking lot of our old church offices. Panic attacks are familiar to me. They are like a toxic friend that just decides to pop in and surprise me every once in a while. I can go years without seeing their face, and then suddenly my throat starts to tighten, my heart beats faster, and nothing feels safe.
I can still hear my mom’s voice, “This is what happens when you bottle things up,” she would say. She was very right. As the oldest child, when we faced hardship or trauma as a family, I dedicated myself as the one who had to stay strong and take care of everyone else. Call it older sibling syndrome or whatever you want, but I didn’t show my emotions frequently as a child. Instead, and I am still guilty of this to this day, though I do believe I have come a very long way, I bottle all the things up. I shove them all the way down until the pressure gets too much and the bottle top bursts. Picture a 2 liter of Diet Coke, with a couple Mentos shoved in, but the cap is promptly replaced. Then someone shakes that bottle until it explodes. Just replace the soda suds and fizz with tears and self depreciation. That’s what emotional breakdowns and panic attacks feel like to me.
Now, I am not here to glorify anxiety. It sucks. And I am actually getting ready to preach a message at my church about this very topic and just how much it does suck and just how often we all encounter it. As I have been prepping for that message, I can’t get this topic of the aftermath of emotional release out of my head. I keep thinking about how often I used to shove my emotions down instead of allowing myself the human experience of going through and feeling them. Feeling sad, angry, jealous, frustrated, annoyed, or any other negative emotion you can think of, isn’t fun or enjoyable in the moment. No normal human enjoys feeling bad things, but I can’t shake the overwhelming feeling that someone reading this needs to know that it’s time to release. What is waiting on the other side of your breakdown, prayer, pillow scream, or angry shower conversation, is really quite beautiful. And it’s WAY better than the numbness or fear you are clinging to right now.
I keep coming back to the night that my niece was born. I went into survival mode as my sister kept losing blood and was in terrible pain, my brother-in-law turned pale white and began to cry, and the doctors and nurses all became very quiet and focused. I just kept quiet, focused my eyes on my sister and Jake. I kept offering them small, encouraging, gentle words. I went into nurture mode and made sure I did what I could to make sure everyone was okay, not that I could do much but talk quietly and stay out of the way. I remember not panicking, but also not feeling much of anything.
I very much remember collapsing into my mom’s arms in the hallway after the bleeding had stopped and I knew mom, dad and baby were safe and comfortable. I couldn’t control the overwhelm of emotion that I finally gave my body permission to feel. I just held onto my mom and wept and wept. My mom just held me like she used to before, through, and after my anxiety/depression diagnosis. And just like the sweet release, ease, and healing that rests on the other side of every ugly cry, on the other side of this breakdown was the most beautiful gift I have ever been given: baby Freyja Rae, my perfect, beautiful, miracle of a niece.
However, in order to access that joy, to really begin to feel the excitement of being an auntie, I had to feel all of the bad panicky stuff first. In order to be present in the pure bliss of the best title I have ever been given, to feel my heart melt as she made her tiny newborn coos and squeezed my fingers for the first time, I had to purge the panic. Dear reader, I am telling you, there are really good things on the other side of allowing yourself to feel.
The feelings you might be suppressing are probably gross or uncomfortable. It probably won’t feel good to feel them. Maybe there are thoughts about yourself or traumatic experiences that you’ve had that you’ve been shutting out for a long time. Please believe me when I say that you are denying yourself of positive experiences and happy feelings beyond what I can describe when you don’t confront the bad parts. We owe it to ourselves, our family, our friends, and this world to be doing the really hard work of knowing ourselves, feeling our feelings, and working to be better.
The overwhelming panic and overflow of emotions doesn't have to be so drastic. If you are anything like me, you keep the big breakdowns from hitting you so hard and so often by allowing yourself to feel the emotions fully as you encounter them in real time. Don't shove them down because there are other people around, don't push it off because you don't want to deal with it. It only adds up, piles on, and gets worse. In all honesty, even if people are around, I have found that showing your vulnerability is actually a sign of strength. More often than not, other people admire someone who can be honest about there thoughts and feelings as opposed to suppressing them to not appear weak or small. So go feel your feelings. All of them. Fully. Take the time you need.
Maybe you need to crank up some Adele in your car, park somewhere, and cry it out. Maybe you need to talk to someone about something at work that has been bothering you for a while. Maybe you need to pick up the phone and finally have the conversation you have been role playing in our mind for months. Whatever the thing is, it’s time to do it, my friend. Seriously, call your therapist. Make an appointment with a new one. There is a peaceful release waiting for you on the other side. I can’t pretend to know how quickly the good feelings will come when you give yourself permission to feel your feelings and pick apart your thoughts. It might take a long time, but I can promise that you are not alone. I can promise that you are worth digging through the mess. I can promise that fighting for yourself is worth it.
If you need someone to listen, send me a message. If you need someone to pray for you, send me a message. If you don’t know what to do next, send me a message. You are beautifully and wonderfully made. Now go let yourself feel.
You are truly and deeply loved.
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