Anxiety Momster

Surviving Anxiety One Breath, One Breakdown, One Blog at a Time”

Tag: mental-health

  • Health Anxiety and the Phobias No One Talks About

    Health Anxiety and the Phobias No One Talks About

    Cardiophobia, Agoraphobia, and Thanatophobia — My Unfiltered Truth

    ⚠️ Trigger Warning:

    This post contains personal discussion of health anxiety, panic attacks, fear of death, and medical-related phobias. If you’re currently feeling triggered or overwhelmed, please take a moment before reading. You are not alone, and you are safe.

    📌 Disclaimer:

    I’m not a doctor or therapist. I’m just a woman who lives with intense anxiety and wants to share her truth. This post is for support, honesty, and connection—not diagnosis or medical advice.

    💬 Let’s Talk About the Phobias That Hide Behind Anxiety

    Everyone throws around the word “anxiety” like it’s no big deal—like it’s just nerves or stress. But for some of us? It runs much deeper. It morphs into specific, paralyzing fears that take over our thoughts, our bodies, and our lives.

    I live with three phobias that rule way too much of my day:

    • Cardiophobia (fear of having a heart attack),
    • Agoraphobia (fear of being trapped or losing control in public), and
    • Thanatophobia (fear of dying).

    I don’t talk about this for pity. I talk about it because someone needs to. If you’ve ever felt alone in your fear—like your brain is the loudest one in the room—I hope this post gives you a moment of breath, a moment of recognition, and a moment of peace.

    Cardiophobia: When Every Heartbeat Feels Like a Warning Sign

    This is the one that hits me hardest.

    Cardiophobia means I don’t trust my own body. I’ve felt one chest twinge and convinced myself it was the beginning of the end. I’ve checked my pulse over and over until my fingers were sore. I’ve sat through full-blown panic attacks, shaking, crying, sure I was having a heart attack—even after tests came back clear.

    This phobia doesn’t care about facts.
    It doesn’t care that I’ve been to the ER and lived.
    It only whispers, “What if this time is different?”

    And the worst part? It feels so real. My body responds with real symptoms—tightness, dizziness, numbness—all from a fear that refuses to be quiet.

    Agoraphobia: The World Feels Safer When I Stay Home

    People think agoraphobia means you’re scared of open spaces. That’s not quite it.

    For me, it’s about losing control in public. It’s:

    • Being afraid to stand in a long line because what if I faint?
    • Avoiding crowded places because what if I can’t breathe?
    • Staying home because what if I panic and can’t escape fast enough?

    Agoraphobia shrinks your world. It tells you that safety only exists in certain places—like your home, your car, or wherever your “safe person” is.

    I’ve missed out on so many moments—not because I didn’t want to go, but because I was afraid of what might happen if I went.

    Thanatophobia: The Fear of Death That Never Leaves

    This one is quieter but just as loud in my head.

    Thanatophobia is the fear of dying. Not in a dramatic, horror-movie way. In a slow, sneaky way where every random body sensation turns into a death sentence in my mind.

    A weird ache? Must be an aneurysm.
    Sudden fatigue? Probably something terminal.
    A sharp pain in my jaw or head? The beginning of the end.

    And when I lie in bed at night, that fear sits on my chest like a weight.
    Not just fear of death… but fear of leaving my kids, of the unknown, of not existing. It’s a fear that makes it hard to dream about the future because you’re always stuck wondering if you’ll make it there.

    These Phobias Are Real. And You’re Not the Only One.

    No, I’m not making this up.
    No, I’m not exaggerating.
    No, I’m not “just being dramatic.”

    If you’ve ever lived with any of these:

    • The obsessive Googling
    • The repeated doctor visits just to be told “you’re fine”
    • The guilt of missing out on life because of your fears

    …then you already know: this is real. It’s valid. And it’s hard.

    But it’s also manageable. Not curable overnight, not erased with a mantra—but manageable. With awareness. With community. With patience. And with grace for yourself.

    What’s Helping Me Cope Right Now

    I’m still deep in the healing, but here are a few things that help me manage my phobias day by day:

    • 📝 Reassurance Journaling — tracking past fears that didn’t come true ( I created one just for us).
    • 📲 Limiting health Googling — no more rabbit holes at 3 a.m.
    • ⏳ Grounding statements — “I’ve felt this before. I survived this before.”
    • 🩺 Honest conversations with doctors — I ask, I clarify, I advocate
    • 🌬 Breathwork + distraction — shifting my focus when fear takes over

    Healing is messy, but naming what I’m going through helps me feel less trapped by it. It turns fear into something I can actually face.

    Final Words: If You Get It, You’re Not Alone

    If you’ve ever felt the panic build over a heartbeat, a store aisle, or a thought of death—I see you. I am you.

    You are not broken.
    You are not too much.
    You are not weak.

    You’re a human being with a sensitive nervous system, trying to survive a world that doesn’t always feel safe. That’s not failure — that’s bravery.

    So let this blog post be your permission to say it out loud:

    “I have phobias. I have fear. But I also have fight.”

    And you’re still here. Still breathing. Still pushing forward. That matters more than anyone knows.

  • The Guilt That Comes With Anxiety — Especially as a Mom

    The Guilt That Comes With Anxiety — Especially as a Mom

    What if I passed my anxiety down to my child?
    A real story for moms who carry the shame no one sees.

    ⚠️ Trigger Warning & Disclaimer:

    This post speaks honestly about anxiety, panic attacks, and emotional guilt as a mother. If you’re in a fragile space, take a breath and come back when you’re ready.
    I’m not a therapist. I’m just a mom who’s been there — and is still there some days. This is not medical advice. It’s a lived experience.

    💭 The Guilt You Don’t Talk About

    Let’s be honest — motherhood comes with guilt even on a good day.
    But when you’re living with anxiety?

    It hits different.

    You start wondering:

    • “Did they see me panic?”
    • “Am I scaring them without meaning to?”
    • “Are they learning fear from me?”
    • “What if I passed this down?”

    It’s not just guilt. It’s grief.
    Grieving the version of you you wish they had.
    Grieving the calm, steady, carefree mom you want so badly to be — but can’t always reach through the fog of anxiety.

    🧠 When Your Mind is Loud, But You Still Have to Parent

    Anxiety doesn’t wait until you have free time.
    It doesn’t care if your toddler needs help or if your teen needs to talk.

    It shows up in the middle of lunch. During bedtime.
    At the store. On a random Tuesday.

    You try to hold it in — to be strong.
    You fake smiles, push through, and whisper “I’m fine” when you’re not.

    But when your child starts to notice…
    When they look at you with worry in their eyes…
    That’s when the guilt gets loud.

    😞 “Did I Give My Baby This Anxiety?”

    I remember the moment my daughter started showing signs of anxiety.

    She was 11. Then 12. Then 13.
    And it was like watching a younger version of me unravel in real time.

    I panicked inside.
    Not because I judged her — but because I recognized it.

    And suddenly, all the thoughts came rushing in:

    • “She saw too much.”
    • “I failed to protect her from me.”
    • “She inherited this because I was too broken to shield her.”

    Then someone said it out loud:

    “She gets it from you.”

    And I broke.

    🖤 But Here’s What I Know Now…

    Yes — maybe she inherited some of my anxiety.
    But she also inherited my awareness, my emotional vocabulary, and my fight.

    She’s learning how to name her feelings.
    How to breathe through them.
    How to talk about what hurts instead of bottling it up.

    Because I do.

    She’s seen me cry, yes.
    But she’s also seen me recover.
    Seen me ground myself. Seen me fight for peace even when it doesn’t come easy.

    And that… is parenting through anxiety with power.

    💬 The Truth About Guilt and Anxiety as a Mom

    You’re not ruining your kids.
    You are teaching them what real, emotional strength looks like.

    You’re showing them:

    • How to get back up after a panic spiral
    • How to ask for help when it’s hard
    • How to feel deeply without shame
    • How to cope without pretending everything’s perfect

    And that kind of parenting?
    That’s generational healing.

    You are not your guilt.
    You are the bridge between silence and safety for your kids.

    🕊️ Give Yourself Grace Today

    If you’ve been carrying guilt for how your anxiety shows up in motherhood, here’s what I want you to know:

    ✨ You are not a bad mom.
    ✨ You are a mom carrying something heavy — and still showing up with love.
    ✨ You are allowed to struggle. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.

    📥 Free Support for Anxious Moms

    If this post hit home, I made some things just for you:
    💜 Download my FREE anxiety tracker + healing journal here
    📖 Read my full story in Living in the Panic — eBook available now

  • I Didn’t Want to Be Seen — But I Needed to Be Heard

    I Didn’t Want to Be Seen — But I Needed to Be Heard

    There are days where I don’t even recognize myself.

    Not because of how I look, but because of how tightly I’m holding on — to my breath, to my chest, to my thoughts.
    Not screaming.
    Not crying.
    Just trying to survive whatever this is.

    That’s what anxiety feels like sometimes. It’s quiet.
    It doesn’t always show up like a meltdown.
    Sometimes it’s the stillness before it hits.
    Sometimes it’s the way your body curls inward, like it’s trying to keep your soul from slipping out.

    I’ve had moments where I froze in public — chest tightening, ears ringing, heart pounding in a way no one else could hear. And I kept standing there like everything was fine.

    But it wasn’t.

    And here’s the part that hurts —
    I felt ashamed for it.
    Ashamed for having a moment.
    Ashamed that I couldn’t “get it together.”
    Ashamed that I didn’t even know what triggered it.

    But that shame? That’s the lie anxiety tells us.

    You are not weak for freezing.
    You are not dramatic for struggling.
    You are not a burden for needing time, space, or breath.

    You are human.
    And if you’re like me — a mom, a partner, someone who “has to be strong” for everyone else — you might feel like you’re not allowed to fall apart.

    But I’m giving you permission right now:
    You are allowed to not be okay.
    You are allowed to have moments.
    You are allowed to come undone without losing your worth.

    I still have days where I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread.
    But I remind myself: even the thread is holy.
    Even the breath I take between panic and peace is a victory.

    So if no one else told you today —
    You are doing enough.
    You are not alone.
    And you don’t have to explain what your anxiety looks like to anyone.

    Some of the strongest people are the ones silently fighting battles no one sees.

    I see you.
    And you are not invisible here.

    💬 Tell Me…

    What does anxiety look like for you?
    Drop it in the comments — or message me if you need a safe space to talk. You don’t have to carry it alone. 💜

  • I’m Not Okay — And That’s Okay Too

    Trigger warning: Mental health, anxiety, panic, and emotional overwhelm.
    Disclaimer: I’m not a medical professional. I’m just a real mom, talking through real moments, trying to survive the chaos one breath at a time.

    Let’s not sugarcoat it:
    I’m not okay.

    I’m not “a little tired.”
    I’m not “just stressed.”
    I’m not “overthinking.”
    I’m drowning in my thoughts while trying to keep five kids alive, hold down two jobs, manage bills we can barely pay, fight the urge to light another cigarette, and survive a world that feels like it’s falling apart every damn day.

    And somehow, I’m still expected to function. Smile. Clock in. Teach. Cook. Comfort. Hold it together. Be the calm one.

    But today, I need to say it out loud — I am not okay.
    And guess what? That’s okay, too.

    This isn’t weakness. This is survival.

    We live in a world where moms are expected to be therapists, teachers, chefs, chauffeurs, nurses, and emotional punching bags — all while pretending we’re “fine.”

    We’re told to take deep breaths and do yoga while our nervous systems are fried and our hearts race over every twitch, headache, or spike in the news.

    We scroll past headlines about war, disease, death, and tragedy — and then still have to flip pancakes like nothing’s wrong.

    That’s not balance.
    That’s emotional whiplash.

    Anxiety doesn’t ask permission to show up.

    Some days, it creeps in quietly.
    Other days, it crashes down like a damn freight train.

    And when you’re already running on fumes, it doesn’t take much — a weird chest sensation, a twitch in your eye, a loud noise from the kids, a late bill, a stupid social media post — to send you into fight-or-flight mode.

    I’ve had moments where I was afraid to sleep.
    Afraid to eat.
    Afraid to be left alone with my own mind.

    And still, I show up.
    Worn-out. Glued together with caffeine and prayers. But I show up.

    So here’s what I’m learning:

    • You don’t have to be “okay” to be worthy of love.
    • You don’t need to be perfect to deserve rest.
    • Crying in the bathroom between tasks does not make you weak — it makes you human.
    • Saying “I can’t handle this right now” is not quitting.
    • Needing help, needing space, needing quiet — that is valid.

    If you’re in a season where your brain feels loud and your body feels heavy — I see you.

    Maybe you’re grieving peace you never really had.
    Maybe your nervous system is tired of surviving on adrenaline.
    Maybe you’re just over it and too damn tired to fake your way through another “I’m fine.”

    I get it.
    And I promise you this:
    You’re not crazy. You’re not weak. You’re not broken.
    You are carrying more than anyone realizes — and still showing up in ways you don’t give yourself credit for.

    So let this be your permission slip:

    To not be okay.
    To sit in the mess for a minute.
    To not chase perfection.
    To not apologize for being human.

    You are doing your best — and that is enough today.

    💬 Let’s talk:

    Have you had one of those “I’m not okay” days lately?
    What do you wish someone would say to you in that moment?

    Drop it in the comments or DM me.
    Let’s stop pretending and start healing — together.

  • A Day in the Life of a Hypochondriac

    A Day in the Life of a Hypochondriac

    📍 Trigger Warning & Disclaimer

    Trigger Warning: This post discusses health anxiety, panic attacks, and intrusive thoughts. If these topics are triggering for you, please take care while reading.
    Disclaimer: I’m not a mental health professional. This post is based on my personal experiences with health anxiety and hypochondria. If you’re struggling, please reach out to a licensed therapist or healthcare provider.

    Let me take you through what it’s really like.

    It’s 6:00 AM. My alarm goes off, and before my feet even hit the floor, I’m already scanning my body.

    • Did I feel a flutter in my chest?
    • Why does my head feel weird—kind of heavy, kind of floaty?
    • Is my jaw tight? Is that a sign of something?

    By 6:50 AM, I’m moving fast. Getting the kids dressed, finding missing shoes, packing bags, and making sure everyone’s out the door to my mom’s house next door so she can cook them breakfast. My husband’s up too—he works from home like me—and we’re both in that early-morning, tired hustle.

    But inside, I’m already spiraling.
    That random flutter in my chest—
    That sudden, weird head feeling like I’m about to pass out—
    That tension in my jaw—
    It all feels like something big, something scary.

    Mid-Morning: The Spiral Gets Louder

    I sit down at my desk, trying to focus on work, but it’s like my body won’t let me.

    I feel a flutter in my chest.
    My head feels like it’s full of pressure—heavy, foggy, off.
    My jaw aches on one side, and my arms feel weak.

    The thoughts hit fast and hard:

    • What if I’m having a heart attack?
    • What if I’m having a stroke?
    • What if I black out while I’m working and no one notices?
    • What if this is the time something really happens?

    I try to breathe through it, but the fear is so loud. Every little symptom feels like a warning sign, and my brain refuses to believe it’s “just anxiety.”

    Afternoon: Holding It Together (Barely)

    I check on the kids at my mom’s, give them hugs, try to smile and act normal, but my mind is still screaming:

    • That flutter again.
    • That dizzy, off-balance feeling in my head.
    • That tension in my shoulder blade.

    I sit back down at my desk, and the cycle starts again.

    • Is this the start of a heart attack?
    • Am I going to have a stroke at 35?
    • What if I’m about to collapse in front of the kids?

    I work, but I’m barely holding it together. The fear is always there, waiting.

    Evening: The Crash

    By the time the day is over, I’m done.

    Not from the work itself.
    Not from the kids.
    But from the fight—the constant, exhausting battle with my own mind.

    The flutters in my chest are still there.
    The weird head feelings are still there.
    The fear is always there.

    I sit down and try to unwind, but the panic lurks in the back of my mind:

    • What if I don’t wake up tomorrow?
    • What if I have a heart attack in my sleep?
    • What if this is the night it all goes wrong?

    This is my reality. This is a day in the life of a hypochondriac.

    And if you’re living this too—
    If you’re exhausted from the fight—
    If you feel like you’re barely making it through each day—
    I see you.

    You’re not alone.
    We’re still here.
    We’re still breathing.
    And that’s enough for today.

  • The Fear That Lives With Me

    The Fear That Lives With Me

    🛑 Trigger Warning: This post contains candid reflections on anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and health-related fear.
    📝 Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. Everything shared is based on my personal experiences living with anxiety. Always consult a licensed professional for medical advice or treatment.

    There’s a fear that never really leaves. It doesn’t knock before it shows up — it just moves in, stretches out, and makes itself at home in my chest. Sometimes, it’s quiet. Other times, it screams.

    Living with anxiety means carrying an invisible weight every day. It’s waking up wondering, “What if today is the day something bad happens?” It’s the constant body scanning, the racing thoughts, the overthinking, the what-ifs that spiral until they become worst-case scenarios.

    It’s not just being scared. It’s feeling hijacked by fear that doesn’t match the moment.

    I could be sitting at my desk, answering emails — and suddenly, my heart flutters. My brain screams: “Is this a heart attack?”
    I could feel a random ache, a weird tingle, a single skipped heartbeat — and suddenly I’m Googling symptoms like my life depends on it.

    And the worst part? I know it’s probably anxiety.
    I know I’ve had these symptoms before.
    But that little voice always whispers, “What if this time it’s not?”

    This fear lives with me.
    It walks beside me when I’m with my kids.
    It rides along when I go to the store.
    It lays next to me when I try to sleep.
    And even when I’m having a good day… it peeks around the corner, just to remind me it’s still there.

    But I keep going.
    Even with the fear.
    Even when my hands shake and my heart races and my thoughts scream danger.
    Because I’ve survived every anxious moment so far.
    And that means something.

    If you’re living with this kind of fear too — you’re not weak. You’re not broken. You’re surviving a battle most people can’t see.
    And damn it, that’s strength.

  • The Silent Panic in the Middle of a Family Gathering

    The Silent Panic in the Middle of a Family Gathering

    📍 Trigger Warning & Disclaimer

    Trigger Warning: This post discusses personal experiences with anxiety, panic attacks, and mental health struggles that may be sensitive or triggering for some readers. Please take care of yourself while reading.
    Disclaimer: I’m not a mental health professional. This post is based on my own experiences. Please reach out to a licensed therapist or healthcare provider for professional support.

    You ever been surrounded by people—your people—and feel like you’re barely holding it together?

    Yeah, that’s me.

    I could be sitting there, smiling, nodding, trying to act like I’m present, but inside? I’m a mess. My heart’s racing, my stomach feels like it’s flipping, my skin is hot and clammy, and I’m fighting the urge to bolt out the door.

    But I stay, because I don’t want to ruin the moment. I don’t want to be “the one” who always has something going on. The one who has to leave early. The one who’s not okay.

    I sit there and pretend like everything’s fine, like I’m listening to the conversation when really, I’m trying to remember how to breathe. My mind is racing with thoughts like:

    • “Am I about to pass out?”
    • “Do they notice something’s wrong?”
    • “If I stand up, will I faint?”
    • “What if this is a heart attack?”

    I hate that I feel like this. It makes me feel weak—like I should be able to control this, but I can’t. And the guilt? It eats me alive.

    Because I should be laughing with my family, not silently spiraling in my own head.

    But here’s the truth I’m learning:
    Anxiety doesn’t give a damn where you are. It doesn’t care if it’s a birthday party, a holiday dinner, or a random Tuesday night at home. It shows up when it wants to, and it takes over.

    What I’m also learning is that it’s okay to feel it. It’s okay to step outside for some air, to sit quietly for a moment, to not be the life of the party.

    I’m not broken. I’m not weak. I’m just someone living with anxiety—and doing the best I fucking can.

    And if you’ve ever felt this too, I see you. You’re not alone.

    Let’s promise each other this:
    Next time we’re in the middle of a family gathering, and that silent panic creeps in, we won’t beat ourselves up. We’ll breathe. We’ll let it pass. We’ll do what we need to do—and we’ll remind ourselves that we’re still worthy of love, laughter, and a seat at the table.

  • Anxiety vs. Stress: Knowing the Difference

    Anxiety vs. Stress: Knowing the Difference

    Trigger Warning

    This post discusses topics related to anxiety, stress, and mental health. Please read with care, and reach out to a mental health professional if you need support.

    Disclaimer

    I am not a doctor or therapist. This blog is for informational purposes only and based on personal experiences and research. Please consult a licensed professional for medical advice.

    Ever felt your chest tighten, your mind race, or your body go into overdrive—and wondered, “Is this anxiety or just stress?” You’re not alone. Anxiety and stress are often used interchangeably, but they’re not the same. Knowing the difference is key to managing your mental health. Let’s break it down—no sugarcoating, no fluff.

    🚩 What is Stress?

    Stress is your body’s natural response to a demand or challenge. It’s what kicks in when you’re cramming for a test, running late to an appointment, or trying to meet a deadline. Stress can actually help you stay focused and alert in the short term.

    But here’s the catch:
    ➡️ Stress is typically situational.
    ➡️ It’s usually short-term.
    ➡️ It fades when the situation resolves.

    Think of stress like an annoying coworker—shows up when there’s work to do, then leaves when the task is done.

    🚩 What is Anxiety?

    Anxiety is persistent worry, fear, or dread—even when there’s no immediate threat. It sticks around, whispers worst-case scenarios in your ear, and messes with your mind and body in ways that feel like you’re stuck in a never-ending loop.

    Key differences:
    ➡️ Anxiety lingers, even when life is chill.
    ➡️ It can hijack your thoughts and make you catastrophize.
    ➡️ It often shows up as physical symptoms: racing heart, tight chest, dizziness, stomach issues.

    🎯 How to Tell the Difference

    StressAnxiety
    Has a clear cause (e.g., deadline, traffic)Can happen without a clear trigger
    Fades when the situation is overLingers even when things are fine
    Usually short-termCan be long-lasting, chronic
    Motivates you to actCan make you feel stuck and panicked
    Can improve performanceCan impair focus and decision-making
    Example: Feeling nervous before a presentationExample: Constantly worrying you’ll mess up even after it’s over

    🧠 Expert Insight

    According to the American Psychological Association (APA),

    Stress is “a normal reaction to everyday pressures, but can become unhealthy when it upsets your day-to-day functioning.”

    Anxiety, on the other hand, is “an excessive and persistent worry that doesn’t go away, even in the absence of a stressor.”

    This distinction is important: stress is a response to a specific external trigger, while anxiety is a persistent internal state that can affect your mental and physical health even when life seems fine on the outside.

    For more information, visit the APA’s website at www.apa.org.

    🌿 Why It Matters

    When you know what you’re dealing with, you can treat it better. Stress? You might need to take a break, delegate tasks, or manage time better. Anxiety? You might need coping tools, therapy, or lifestyle shifts to manage your mental health.

    👉 Bottom line: Not every stressful day means you have anxiety, but if stress feels like it’s your whole personality now… it might be worth looking deeper.

    Final Thoughts

    You are not broken for feeling stress or anxiety. You’re human. Let’s normalize the convo and help each other get through the hard days.

    Got questions or want to share your experience? Drop a comment below—I read every single one!

  • Everyday Exposure: What It Takes Just to Function with Anxiety

    Everyday Exposure: What It Takes Just to Function with Anxiety

    Trigger Warning: This post discusses panic attacks, agoraphobia, and exposure struggles.
    Disclaimer: This is based on personal experience. It is not medical advice.

    You’d be surprised what counts as “brave” when you live with anxiety.
    For some people, exposure therapy means skydiving or confronting trauma.

    For me?
    It’s stepping outside.
    It’s getting in the shower.
    It’s riding in a car.
    It’s sitting in a waiting room.

    These aren’t simple daily tasks — they’re triggers. And I face them over and over again just to live.

    🚿 Showers Aren’t Simple

    Most people shower to feel refreshed.
    Me? I sometimes panic in the water.
    Something about the echo, the steam, the stillness — it turns into a trap for my thoughts.

    So my husband showers with me.
    Not because I can’t shower alone… but because it makes me feel safer.
    Because being alone with my body and my breath can send me spiraling.

    🚗 Driving Isn’t Freedom — It’s Fear

    I don’t drive.
    I panic if I’m in a car alone.
    Not because I don’t know how — but because anxiety convinces me I won’t make it.

    My husband drives me everywhere.
    To appointments. To stores. Even just to get food.
    He goes into the buildings with me. Waits in the car if needed.
    Because I still haven’t fully learned how to face the outside world alone.

    Not yet.

    🧠 This Is Exposure Therapy — Just My Version

    I’m not doing grand public speaking events or therapy role-plays.
    I’m trying to go outside without shaking.
    To ride in the car without checking my pulse.
    To exist in the world even when everything inside says “danger.”

    So I prepare.

    • I bring water
    • I bring a calming object or oil
    • I wear soft clothes
    • I breathe slowly
    • I keep my husband nearby
    • I repeat: “I’m safe. This is just a feeling.”

    💜 What I’m Working Toward

    I want independence.
    I want to go to appointments without a shadow.
    I want to feel safe in the world again.

    But right now?
    The fact that I still try every day — even in small ways — means something.

    • If I ride with him and not alone? Still brave.
    • If I leave the house at all? Still healing.
    • If I panic but keep going? Still winning.

    🖤 If This Is You Too…

    Please know: You are not weak.
    You are not lazy.
    You are not “too dependent.”

    You are surviving something most people wouldn’t understand.
    And you’re doing it one breath, one ride, one shower at a time.

  • My Smartwatch Fed My Anxiety More Than It Helped

    My Smartwatch Fed My Anxiety More Than It Helped

    My Truth About BP Monitors, Pulse Ox, and Data Overload

    Let me say this first:
    Smart tech is amazing.
    It gives us power, access, data, and awareness we never had before.
    But if you live with anxiety — especially health anxiety — it can also become a trap.

    I’ve worn the smartwatches.
    Used the pulse ox.
    Tracked my blood pressure at home.
    Monitored sleep, steps, stress levels, glucose spikes, and heart rate dips.

    And while all of that can be helpful… it can also feed the fear.

    ⚡ The Blessing Part:

    • My smart watch helped me notice my heart rate patterns during panic
    • My BP monitor taught me that my pressure rises during stress — but also goes back down
    • My oximeter gave me peace during COVID waves when I needed to confirm I was okay
    • My apps helped me track patterns, especially for sugar, iron, and anxiety triggers
    • I’ve been able to show real data to my doctor instead of saying “I just don’t feel right”

    Without this tech, I’d feel blind sometimes.
    But with it? I feel seen. Measurable. Trackable. Explainable.

    Until… I spiral.

    😩 And Then Comes the Curse…

    • Checking my heart rate every 5 minutes because I “felt something”
    • Freaking out over a BP reading that was slightly high after crying
    • Obsessing over a pulse ox drop that was 97% instead of 99%
    • Constantly comparing today’s numbers to yesterday’s and trying to predict danger
    • Googling every result like it’s the end of the world

    Because anxiety doesn’t see data — it sees danger.

    And when smart tech becomes an obsession instead of a tool… it can ruin your peace.

    🧠 Smart Doesn’t Always Mean Safe (Mentally)

    There were days I couldn’t stop checking.
    I’d take my BP four times in an hour.
    Watch my HR on my wrist in real-time like it was a countdown to doom.
    I wasn’t being cautious — I was chasing control.

    And it stole more peace than it gave me.

    💜 What I’m Learning Now

    • Use the tools — but don’t live by them
    • One reading doesn’t mean crisis
    • My body can have spikes, drops, weird rhythms — and still be OK
    • My brain loves patterns, but not all patterns are meaningful
    • Sometimes the healthiest thing I can do… is take the watch off

    Smart tech isn’t the enemy.
    But for someone with anxiety, it has to be used mindfully, not obsessively.

    🖤 If You’re Here Too…

    If you’ve ever sat in silence watching your Fitbit like it holds your fate — I see you.
    If you’ve Googled a 95% oxygen reading like it was a death sentence — me too.
    If you’ve both thanked and hated your gadgets in the same day — you’re not alone.

    You’re not overreacting. You’re trying to feel safe.

    Just remember: You are not your numbers.
    And peace sometimes starts when we look less, not more.

Access calming tools, guided journals, and anxiety support

Get instant access to calming tools, journal prompts, and healing pages created for overwhelmed, overthinking souls — and join the Anxiety Momster newsletter for ongoing support, updates, and mental health resources.

💜 100% free. No pressure. Just peace.

You can unsubscribe anytime. For more details, review our Privacy Policy.