It seems like such a little thing: taking the dog for a walk. People do it everyday. But for me its become a major stressor. Things I used to enjoy now trigger my anxiety badly. Writing, drawing, walking the dog, exercising… things that made me feel good have somehow become wrapped up in the trauma that comes with living with cancer. I can think of lines to write, plot points to consider, but as soon as I pull out my laptop or a notebook, the panic sets into my bones, into my chest. I can’t breathe. 

Today I had a free afternoon; I was caught up with work, both the husband and child were out of the house, the weather was beautiful, I was feeling inspired. But then as I started pondering what I should do with this free time, I needed to take an anxiety pill, curl up in my blanket burrito, and watch an hour of the Great British Bake Off. I sat with my anxiety/panic, and breathed, safe in my burrito.

By the time I did that, I felt centred enough to make dinner and do the dishes.

Then I took a deep breath, got my walking buddy and… stepped out the door.

It’s a small win over this weird PTSD-trauma-guilt-grief-anxiety-whatever it is that’s going on. But I’m proud of me for taking that first step and following through, despite the thread of panic that still lingered in my chest.

Have you found yourself in a similar situation? I’d love to hear your experience with this sort of trauma-caused anxiety joy robber. How do you get past it? Were you able to overcome to continue activities you enjoyed?

(Frankly I’m surprised I was managed to write that much).