Anxiety Momster

Tag: depression

  • Anxiety Isn’t Just in Your Head: Understanding the Physical Symptoms

    Anxiety Isn’t Just in Your Head: Understanding the Physical Symptoms

    Exploring How Anxiety Manifests in the Body

    When people hear “anxiety,” they often think of racing thoughts, worry, or fear. But for many of us, anxiety doesn’t just live in the mind — it takes over the body.

    If you’ve ever felt your heart pound, your stomach twist, or your limbs go numb during a moment of panic, you know exactly what I mean.

    Let’s break down how anxiety shows up physically — and why it’s not “all in your head.”

    🧠 The Mind-Body Connection: Why Anxiety Feels Physical

    Anxiety activates the body’s “fight or flight” response, releasing stress hormones like adrenaline and cortisol. This response prepares you to face danger — but when triggered repeatedly or unnecessarily, it can cause a wide range of physical symptoms.

    ⚠️ Common Physical Symptoms of Anxiety

    According to Healthline and the Mayo Clinic, anxiety can cause:

    • Rapid heartbeat or palpitations
    • Shortness of breath or hyperventilation
    • Chest pain or tightness
    • Dizziness or lightheadedness
    • Muscle tension or aches
    • Sweating or hot flashes
    • Nausea or digestive issues
    • Fatigue or insomnia
    • Tingling or numbness in extremities

    These symptoms are real and can be distressing, often leading individuals to seek medical attention.

    🩺 When to Seek Medical Attention

    While anxiety can cause physical symptoms, it’s important to rule out other medical conditions. Consult a healthcare provider if you experience:

    • Persistent chest pain
    • Severe shortness of breath
    • Fainting spells
    • Unexplained weight loss

    A medical professional can help determine whether these symptoms are related to anxiety or another health issue.

    🧘‍♀️ Managing Physical Symptoms of Anxiety

    Strategies to alleviate physical symptoms include:

    • Deep breathing exercises: Helps regulate heart rate and breathing.
    • Regular physical activity: Reduces stress hormones and muscle tension.
    • Mindfulness and meditation: Calms the nervous system.
    • Adequate sleep: Restores body functions and reduces fatigue.
    • Balanced diet: Supports overall health and energy levels.

    In some cases, therapy or medication may be necessary. Always consult a healthcare provider for personalized advice.

    💬 Final Thoughts

    Anxiety is a complex condition that affects both the mind and body. Recognizing the physical symptoms is a crucial step toward managing them effectively.

    Remember, you’re not alone, and help is available.

    💜 Free Resource: Peace Over Panic Journal + Tracker

    To support your journey, download the Peace Over Panic Journal + Tracker. This free resource includes:

    • Daily check-ins
    • Mood logs
    • Coping strategies

    👉 Download it here

  • Breaking the Stigma: How I Talk to My Kids About Anxiety and Mental Health

    Breaking the Stigma: How I Talk to My Kids About Anxiety and Mental Health

    Anxiety isn’t a quiet thing in our home.
    It’s not hidden behind closed doors or swept under the rug.
    We talk about mental health openly — because in this family, it’s not taboo. It’s real. It’s personal.

    As a mom who lives with severe anxiety and panic attacks, I made a promise to myself: my children would never feel ashamed or confused about what they’re feeling inside. So we talk. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

    Supporting a Child Through Panic Attacks

    My 13-year-old experiences panic attacks that stop her in her tracks — chest tightness, racing thoughts, tears, and fear that something is terribly wrong. I’ve seen her clutch her chest and cry, “I can’t breathe.”

    I’ve been there too.

    In those moments, I don’t try to fix her. I sit with her.
    We breathe together:

    • Inhale for 4 seconds
    • Hold for 4 seconds
    • Exhale for 6 seconds

    Over and over, until the panic eases.

    This is how we manage anxiety as a family. This is what it looks like — connection, calm, and compassion.

    Teaching Kids How to Cope with Anxiety

    We’re not just helping our teen — even our youngest is learning.

    My 4-year-old doesn’t fully understand the word “anxiety,” but she knows how to breathe in and out when someone’s upset. She’s seen it in action. Now, she’ll walk up and say, “Breathe with me,” to her older siblings when they’re frustrated.

    She’s learning early what most of us didn’t learn until adulthood —
    your emotions matter, and you’re not alone.

    Why Talking About Mental Health Matters in Parenting

    Breaking the mental health stigma starts at home. In our house, we use words like:

    • Triggered
    • Overwhelmed
    • Calm down space
    • Grounding
    • Anxiety attack

    We don’t say “stop crying.” We don’t say “you’re being dramatic.”
    We validate, support, and walk through it together.

    How to Start Mental Health Conversations With Your Kids

    If you’re not sure where to begin, here’s what’s helped us:

    • Be honest — Let them know it’s okay to feel anxious or scared.
    • Share your own experience (in age-appropriate ways).
    • Practice breathing exercises as a family — even when no one is anxious.
    • Create a calm corner or safe space where kids can retreat and reset.
    • Use children’s books or videos to explain what anxiety feels like.
    • Normalize mental health days the same way we do sick days.

    We Get Through Anxiety Together — One Breath at a Time

    I won’t pretend it’s easy. Some days I feel like I’m barely hanging on. But even in the mess, I know this matters. Talking about anxiety with my kids has brought us closer. It’s helped them feel seen. And it’s helped me heal in ways I never expected.

    In this home, we breathe together. We cry together.
    And we show each other — you don’t have to go through anxiety alone.

    💬 Let’s Talk About It… Together

    If you’re a parent navigating anxiety — yours, your child’s, or both — you are not alone. This is hard, but you’re doing the best you can. And that is enough.

    ✨ Want extra support and free calming tools?
    Download my free Peace Over Panic Digital Journal and Anxiety Tracker — created from our real life, with love, for moms just like you.

    👉 Grab your free copy here
    ✨ Includes daily check-ins, weekly reflections, and breathing tools for tough moments.

    And if this post resonated with you, drop a comment, share it with a friend, or just breathe with me in spirit.

    We’re breaking the stigma, one breath and one honest conversation at a time.

    With love,
    Shanice – Anxiety Momster

  • Dear Anxiety: Even on My Hardest Days, I Show Up

    Dear Anxiety,

    You try to tell me that bad days erase all the progress I’ve made.
    That if I have one breakdown, one panic attack, one wave of fear — I’m back at square one.

    But you’re wrong.

    Even on my hardest days,
    I show up.

    Even when my chest is tight and my mind is racing,
    I still breathe.
    I still move.
    I still live.

    It might not look pretty.
    It might not look brave.
    Sometimes it’s just getting dressed.
    Sometimes it’s just answering a text.
    Sometimes it’s just making it through another hour.

    But it’s showing up —
    and that’s enough.

    You don’t get to define strength by how loud or visible it is.
    You don’t get to decide what counts.

    I decide.
    And every shaky breath, every tear-streaked smile, every tiny choice to keep going counts.

    You can make the days hard.
    You can make the nights long.
    But you cannot make me disappear.

    I am here.
    Even when it’s hard.
    Especially when it’s hard.

    — Shanice

  • Dear Anxiety: I Am Stronger Than You Think

    Dear Anxiety,

    You’ve seen me at my lowest.
    You’ve watched me collapse under the weight of fear.
    You’ve seen the nights I couldn’t sleep, the mornings I couldn’t move, the days I thought I couldn’t survive.

    And yet — here I am.

    Still breathing.
    Still fighting.
    Still standing.

    You underestimate me.
    You think that because I feel fear, I am fear.
    You think that because I cry, I am broken.
    You think that because I stumble, I’ll never rise.

    But every tear, every panic attack, every hard moment I’ve survived has made me stronger.

    Not because they didn’t hurt —
    but because they did, and I’m still here anyway.

    I am not weak because of you.
    I am stronger because of everything you’ve thrown at me.

    I have scars, yes.
    But scars mean healing.
    Scars mean survival.
    Scars mean I fought through it.

    And I will keep fighting.
    Not because it’s easy.
    But because I know I deserve the life you keep trying to steal from me.

    I am stronger than you think, Anxiety.
    And I’m just getting started.

    — Shanice

    These are my real, raw letters to my anxiety.
    Some days, it wins. Some days, I fight back.
    Either way, these words are proof that I’m still here, still breathing, still trying.
    If you’re fighting too, you’re not alone. 🖤

  • Dear Anxiety: Today, You Won — But I’m Still Here

    Dear Anxiety,

    Today, you won.
    You pulled me under before I even had a chance to catch my breath.
    You tightened your grip around my chest and flooded my mind with fear.
    You made every small task feel impossible, every breath feel heavy.

    Today, you convinced me I wasn’t safe, even though nothing around me had changed.
    You made my own body feel foreign, threatening, fragile.
    You tricked me into doubting myself — again.

    And you know what?
    I’m not going to pretend you didn’t get the better of me today.
    You did.

    I canceled plans.
    I cried in the bathroom.
    I second-guessed every heartbeat, every thought, every moment.

    But here’s what you didn’t take:
    I’m still here.

    You won the battle today,
    but you didn’t break me.
    You didn’t erase me.
    You didn’t take away the part of me that’s stubborn enough to get back up tomorrow.

    You are loud, Anxiety.
    You are heavy.
    You are relentless.

    But so am I.

    One bad day doesn’t define me.
    One hard moment doesn’t erase all the progress I’ve made.
    One lost battle doesn’t mean I’ve lost the war.

    I’m still breathing.
    I’m still standing.
    I’m still fighting.

    You may have won today.
    But I’m not done.

    Not even close.

    — Shanice

    These are my real, raw letters to my anxiety.
    Some days, it wins. Some days, I fight back.
    Either way, these words are proof that I’m still here, still breathing, still trying.
    If you’re fighting too, you’re not alone. 🖤

  • I’m Having a Panic Attack Right Now: The Real, Raw, Unfiltered Version

    Trigger Warning: Panic Attacks, Health Anxiety, Raw Emotion
    Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. I am just a woman trying to survive the war in my head. Please don’t take this as medical advice—this is my truth, my experience, and maybe yours too.

    Right now… as I write this… I am in it.
    Not recovering from it. Not reflecting back on it.
    IN IT.

    My head feels like pressure is building—like something inside is about to snap. I felt a “pop” earlier, not painful, but terrifying. It felt like a gunshot went off near me, except it was inside my head. And now I’m spiraling.

    My neck hurts. My shoulder aches. My arm feels weird. My chest feels… funny—not tight, not painful—just off. And my anxiety is feeding off every single symptom like it’s a buffet.

    And the scariest part?
    My mind doesn’t believe I’m okay.

    Even though I’ve had tests. Even though I’ve been told everything looks fine. Even though I’ve been here before and came out okay.
    My brain doesn’t trust it.

    People say “it’s just anxiety,” but they don’t understand how dismissive that sounds when your entire body is screaming that something is wrong.

    It’s not just anxiety. It’s:

    • My chest tingling and me wondering if I’m dying.
    • My head feeling like there’s a rubber band wrapped around the front.
    • My back hurting from how I’ve been laying with my laptop, and me thinking it’s something worse.
    • Me sitting here, literally begging God to let me be okay.

    I tried laying down—didn’t help.
    Tried rubbing Vicks under my nose—gave me a second of relief before the fear came back stronger.
    Tried breathing, drinking water, moving around, telling myself it’s just panic… but none of that stuck.

    I want to cry. I want to run. I want to scream and crawl out of my skin.
    But mostly, I just want it to be over.

    I’m so tired of living like this.
    So tired of wondering if every pain is the one they missed.
    So tired of feeling like I’m walking a tightrope between calm and chaos.

    Sometimes I feel like a prisoner in my own body, and anxiety is the warden.
    No escape. No peace. Just me, the thoughts, and this endless cycle of fear.

    But if you’re reading this…

    You’re not alone.

    This post isn’t about “how I conquered it” or “5 ways to stop a panic attack.”
    It’s just the truth. The moment. The reality of what this feels like right now.

    I know I’ll get through it. I always do.
    But right now, in this moment… I just needed to say:

    It’s happening. I’m scared. And I’m still here.

    And if you’re still here too, scared in your own way, I see you.

    Let’s breathe—one shaky inhale, one tearful exhale—until it passes.

    We’re not broken. We’re not crazy.
    We’re just surviving something invisible.
    And that’s brave as hell.

    Need something to help you track it all and breathe through the chaos?
    I made something just for us. Grab my Peace Over Panic anxiety journal + tracker, completely free:
    Download it here

  • Dear Anxiety: You Can Roar, But I Will Rise

    Dear Anxiety,

    You are loud.
    You roar with fear, with panic, with worst-case-scenarios.
    You try to drown out everything good, everything peaceful, everything true.

    You want me to believe that your voice is the only one that matters.
    That your fear defines my future.
    That your noise cancels out my dreams.

    But you’re wrong.

    You can roar.
    You can scream.
    You can flood my mind with doubt and my body with fear.

    But I will rise.

    I will rise on the days when breathing feels like a victory.
    I will rise on the nights when sleep feels impossible.
    I will rise through the racing heart, the shaky hands, the heavy thoughts.

    I will rise even when it’s messy.
    Even when it’s ugly.
    Even when it’s nothing more than a whisper of hope inside a storm.

    Because rising isn’t about perfection.
    It’s about refusing to stay down.

    You can roar as loud as you want.
    But you will never silence my will to live, to love, to heal, to hope.

    I will rise.
    Again.
    And again.
    And again.

    You can count on that.

    — Shanice

    These are my real, raw letters to my anxiety.
    Some days, it wins. Some days, I fight back.
    Either way, these words are proof that I’m still here, still breathing, still trying.
    If you’re fighting too, you’re not alone. 🖤

  • Dear Anxiety: I Miss Who I Used to Be

    Dear Anxiety,

    Sometimes, late at night, when the world is quiet and my mind won’t stop spinning,
    I think about the person I was before you took over.
    The girl who laughed without second-guessing it.
    The woman who made plans without fear creeping in.
    The version of me who didn’t feel broken all the time.

    I miss her.

    I miss waking up without immediately checking my body for signs of danger.
    I miss trusting a good day without questioning if it’s “too good to be true.”
    I miss feeling free in ways that now feel foreign to me.

    You changed me, Anxiety.
    You made me cautious, scared, small.
    You made me doubt my own body, my own mind, my own instincts.

    And there’s a part of me that still grieves for who I used to be.
    For the easy smiles.
    For the carefree moments.
    For the peace I didn’t even know I had back then.

    But here’s something you didn’t take:
    My ability to grow.
    My stubborn hope.
    My strength to rebuild — even if it looks different now.

    Maybe I’ll never be exactly who I used to be.
    Maybe I’m not supposed to be.
    Maybe the girl I miss made room for the woman who fights every single day to stay standing.

    Maybe that’s the point.

    So yeah, I miss her sometimes.
    But I’m learning to love who I’m becoming too.
    Even if it’s messy.
    Even if it’s hard.
    Even if I carry scars.

    I’m still here.
    And you don’t get to write the ending of my story.

    I do.

    — Shanice

    These are my real, raw letters to my anxiety.
    Some days, it wins. Some days, I fight back.
    Either way, these words are proof that I’m still here, still breathing, still trying.
    If you’re fighting too, you’re not alone. 🖤

  • Dear Anxiety: Healing Doesn’t Look Like I Thought It Would

    Dear Anxiety,

    When I first started trying to heal, I thought it would be a straight line.
    I thought I’d hit milestones, check off boxes, and eventually leave you behind like a bad memory.

    But healing with you isn’t neat.
    It’s messy.
    It’s confusing.
    It’s two steps forward, three steps back, and sometimes just sitting still and surviving.

    Some days, I feel strong.
    Other days, I feel like the same scared, exhausted person I was at my worst.

    Healing doesn’t mean you’re gone.
    It means I’m learning how to live without letting you control every part of me.

    I thought healing would feel like a victory parade.
    Instead, it feels like a quiet, stubborn decision I make over and over again:
    I will not give up on myself.

    Even when you scream.
    Even when fear clouds my mind.
    Even when doubt seeps in.

    Healing isn’t loud.
    It isn’t obvious.
    Sometimes it’s as small as breathing through one more panic wave.
    Sometimes it’s celebrating the moments you didn’t completely ruin.

    And that’s enough for me.

    I’m healing.
    Messy, imperfect, beautiful healing.

    You don’t get to take that from me.

    — Shanice

  • Dear Anxiety: I’m Learning to Live Alongside You

    Dear Anxiety,

    For a long time, I thought the goal was to get rid of you completely.
    To silence you.
    To fight you into nonexistence.

    And maybe that’s still the dream —
    But I’m starting to realize something:
    Maybe healing doesn’t always mean making you disappear.
    Maybe it means learning to live alongside you without letting you run the show.

    I don’t like you.
    I don’t welcome you.
    But I’m learning that I don’t have to fear you the way I used to.

    You can show up, pounding at the door of my mind,
    but I don’t have to let you move in and rearrange my whole life every time.

    I can feel the fear without letting it decide for me.
    I can notice the panic without spiraling every single time.
    I can acknowledge your voice without letting it become my truth.

    Living with you isn’t easy.
    There are days you still knock the wind out of me.
    There are moments I still feel like I’m back at square one.
    But I’m not.

    Every breath I take without letting you take over — that’s progress.
    Every moment I choose to keep going despite the fear — that’s strength.
    Every small decision I make for me and not for you — that’s healing.

    I’m not perfect at this.
    Some days, I still stumble.
    Some days, you still scream louder than I’d like to admit.

    But I’m not running from you anymore.
    I’m learning how to live.
    I’m learning how to stay.
    I’m learning how to be me — even with you standing in the background.

    You don’t get to erase my life.
    Not anymore.

    I’m taking it back.
    One shaky, stubborn, beautiful step at a time.

    — Shanice

    These are my real, raw letters to my anxiety.
    Some days, it wins. Some days, I fight back.
    Either way, these words are proof that I’m still here, still breathing, still trying.
    If you’re fighting too, you’re not alone. 🖤