I consume a ridiculous amount of blog posts and articles that are shared to Facebook each day. I always tell people I like Facebook and Twitter so much more than Instagram because I greatly prefer words over pictures. Give me all the words. I learn a lot and am challenged a lot by what I read online, but rarely does a piece change my life. But on Saturday, one did.

I was scrolling Facebook and came across this article on Scary Mommy: I Thought I was Turning into a Rage Monster. Then I was Diagnosed with Anxiety.

Never has another person’s words about their personal experience so closely mirrored my own experience, literally down to the details. I almost couldn’t breathe as I read the article 3-4 more times. Everything she describes is exactly what I go through every second of the day.

I thought, like many of you, that I had suddenly developed an anger problem. I thought, just like you, that I was a terrible person. I also thought I was alone. Who treats their kids like this, except bad people? Who feels like this? I had no idea that, like so many moms, my anxiety disorder was manifesting as anger.

I wasn’t mad. I was actually terrified.

I knew that anger was a symptom of anxiety, but never really made the connection that my own personal anger could actually be major anxiety. But now, I believe it is. Every day, I find myself losing patience with my family, the people who I love most in the world. I have been rationalizing it because right now, life is really hard. Objectively, on their own, toddlers, preschoolers, and special needs children are a tough bunch. And I have all three, at the same time, constantly needing me. They all need me SO MUCH. It’s overwhelming. And terrifying, because I feel so inadequate and not enough for all three of them.

Then you hate yourself for being mean. Your heart hurts because you love these kids so much, and you never want to hurt their feelings. But the yelling comes again, and again, and again.

I have been powering through, apologizing to my kids for yelling, and obsessively cleaning the mess in the house, that always seems to reappear seconds later.

And what do kids do but makes messes? We all know this. We all objectively accept that kids will destroy a room in 15 minutes and then absolutely refuse to clean it. It doesn’t matter that we know it. It enrages us. And this rage stems not from their behavior (expected), but from our own terror.

I actually had a blog post planned about the mess in my house. How no matter how much I clean, it’s never clean. There’s always toys, dishes, scraps of paper, cups, and unidentified stickiness everywhere. How it makes me feel like a complete failure, and so embarrassed. And angry. I walk in the kitchen and all I see is crumbs on the floor, and dirty dishes on the counter. And now I’m wondering if the mess really isn’t all that bad- if I’m like a person with an eating disorder who looks in the mirror and sees a distorted image of herself.

This is what it means to live with an anxiety disorder that manifests as stress and anger. Every single day, you try your damnedest to keep a lid on your emotions, try not to mind the clutter or being late, try to stay on top of yourself and ask, “What am I really feeling?” That takes a heck of a lot of effort and a hell of a lot of metacognition. It’s exhausting. Sometimes you’re too far gone to manage it. And you yell, and you lose your cool. You yell at the ones you love the most. The ones you would literally do anything for.

I spend a lot of mental and physical energy trying to keep my kids safe and healthy. I realize now that I am constantly on edge, both at home and out in the world. I’m tense about their behavior and their safety. The world feels hostile and unsafe, even in places that are supposed to be fun. Just last week, I had to call the police because a group of teenagers were harassing me at the neighborhood playground after I asked them to watch their language in front of my children. I pray that the words and phrases those little ones heard directed at their mother have since vanished from their memory. There are also scary accidents and near misses all the time, like this incident that happened at the very same playground (maybe we should stay away from the playground for awhile). And of course, the mass shootings that seem to be happening every other week now. I wrote a piece for Houston Moms Blog about not parenting with fear, but geez, it seems easier said than done these days.

I’m never, ever relaxed with my kids. With Grayson, I always feel like I’m shortchanging him on attention, and that I should be holding him more, or stimulating him more. And of course I worry about his health, and what his future looks like. He’s such a mystery, and while that’s a beautiful thing in some ways, it’s also terrifying.

With Charlotte, I’m always stressed about her behavior and how I am/am going to raise her. One one hand, I love that she is stubborn, feisty, and speaks her mind about everything (everything!) but I feel enormous pressure to teach her to channel her personality appropriately, and I often feel like I’m completely failing.

With Nolan, most of my anxiety comes from worrying about his physical safety (running into traffic, being too ambitious in his climbing on the playground) and getting mad at him for his messes and his screaming. This morning, he would NOT stop turning on one of Grayson’s medical machines- it was absolutely maddening.

Saturday night, I started reading more about anxiety, and realized a lot of physical symptoms I’m having are also signs of anxiety. I took several online quizzes, which all diagnosed me as having major anxiety. So obviously, I need to do something about this, because this is no way to continue to live.

I immediately began taking my prescribed medication again; I had stopped taking it months ago for the absolutely stupid reason that I can’t remember to take it. Hopefully, I will see some changes quickly from that. And I need to look for a therapist- therapy has helped me so much in the past, and I realize now that I need someone objective to talk to.

I’m really hopeful that very soon, I can get this anxiety under control and stop being the angry mom all the time. My kids deserve better, and I deserve better too.

I turned 38 years old last month. I’m not big on birthdays at all, especially my own. However, it does feel fairly significant that I have just one more birthday left in my 30s, and turning 40 in a few years feels even more significant.

When my birthday came around on the 13th, I was 2 weeks in to a 30 day goal I set for myself (more on this later), and realized that a 30 day timeframe really works for me. I did a Whole30 back in June, and now this 30 day thing- both were challenging, but doable. So I had the idea of doing a series of 24 30-day challenges, one for each month until I turn 40. In my head, I’m calling it The 30-Day Challenge, but if anyone has a better or more creative name, I’m all ears.

So basically, I’ve made a list of habits I want to change or practices I want to make habits before I turn 40. None of them are super-difficult or life-altering in and of themselves, but hopefully collectively they will make a significant impact on my life. I don’t have 24 yet, but here’s my running list:

30 Days of Screen Free Kids: Ok, so this is the one I was in the middle of when I got the idea for the whole project. We’re actually on Day 38 of this one, because I have no immediate plans to stop it. I’m not going to write a lot about this one today, because an article I did write on it was picked up by Scary Mommy and will be published at the end of the month on their site, and I’ll link to it then (definitely with some updates).

30 Days of Writing: I’m doing #NaBloPoMo right now, and also writing and editing for Houston Moms Blog.

30 Days of Healthy Eating: My goal on this one is to do another (modified) Whole30. I found Whole30 a lot easier than I expected for the majority of the meals- the ones I ate at home. But going out with friends…womp womp. I hope to be really strict on the plan at home/taking lunch to work, but not be so strict when out at social events.

30 Days of Exercise: No idea what this will actually entail yet, but I’m hoping to make exercise a part of my life again at some point in the next 2 years

30 Days of Handwritten Letters: I’m going to send letters to people for 30 days actually written on paper and sent via snail mail.

30 Days of Selling: The next two go together. I’m going to try and sell something on FB every day for a month, and save all the money for the next challenge

30 Days of Fashion and Beauty: My wardrobe is pitiful, and I spend hardly anything on beauty products. I want to use the money I make selling crap we don’t need to treat myself (and maybe look a little better in the process). 30 days is definitely going to be expensive for this one, so I’ll have to get creative.

30 Days of Kindness/Hospitality: After spoiling myself, I’m going to spend a month giving to others and having people over (which makes me really anxious, but I’ll work on that).

30 Days of Reading: And by this, I mean actual books.

30 Days of Organizing: I’ll pick one room or area a day. Maybe I should do this one before the selling month so I can purge stuff to sell.

30 Days of Making My Bed: This one may be too lame to do by itself, or could be done on a month to give myself a break. But I always read that making the bed is a habit of successful people, and I wish that I could remember to do it.

That’s all I have so far, but I think that will take me almost to my next birthday. If you have any other ideas for me, please share!

Hopefully by the end of this project, I’ll be 40 and a little more fabulous!

Last night, two of my dearest friends and I got to go to the Houston stop of Jen Hatmaker and Nichole Nordeman’s Moxie Matters tour. This was my first time seeing either of them live, which is sort of hard to believe considering what an impact Jen has been in my life over the past few years.

Jen was, predictably, both hilarious and so real and insightful. She did not hold back with her honesty and vulnerability about how devastating the past year has been for her. A year ago, she gave an interview with Jonathan Merritt where she stated that her views on LGBT relationships had changed, and she is now fully affirming. The backlash was swift and intense: her books were pulled from shelves, parts of the Christian community came at her like an angry mob (she writes about that experience here), and she and her family were threatened physically. So Christ-like.

This past year, I’ve watched all this unfold online, and witnessed just the public backlash on social media. But that was just the tip of the iceberg, as Jen said they couldn’t even keep up with the volume of hate mail they received. And all this because she said gay people should be fully accepted in the church. I’ve also watched her stand up for justice and speak out politically, and every time, people tell her to “stay in her lane.” Just the other day on Twitter, she replied to this very phrase with “Human and civil rights, decency, truth-telling, the abolishment of white supremacy, and the exposure of corruption will always be my lane.”

Jen talked about the pain of the last year and how a lot of times there is no easy fix to our pain. Many times Christians want to go through something, learn their lessons, and move on…but often it’s not that simple or quick. But that pain is actually our friend because it forces us to deal with whatever issue(s) we are facing.

That part of her talk resonated so deeply with me. Obviously I haven’t been through anything nearly as dramatic as she has, and haven’t had anyone threaten my safety. But, in the last year, I’ve been dealing with a major shift in my faith and how I see the church, and it’s been excruciatingly painful. And a lot of that pain has been private, because I’ve felt abandoned and judged by many as I drown in doubt and uncertainty. There have been so many times in the past year where I’ve tried to ignore the pain and pretend it’s not a big deal, but it is. I can’t shove it down for long, because for me, it comes out as anxiety and anger.

She then talked about community and how vital it is for women to have other women in their lives who will surround them with fierce protection and love and will stand with them through the pain. Nichole Nordeman gave the analogy of female elephants surrounding another female as she gives birth or is hurt, for as long as it takes for her to come out of that vulnerable state. And I realized that last night that on that pew, to my right and my left, I was literally surrounded with women who are that community for me. These girls have been two of my lifelines, keeping me from drowning. I’m so thankful for them and the other women who I have been able to confide in, cry with, and learn from.

The program ended with this song by Nichole Nordeman. The chorus is going to be my mantra going forward:

This is the sound of surviving
This is my farewell to fear
This is my whole heart deciding
I’m still here, I’m still here
And I’m not done fighting
This is the sound of surviving

The Senate is currently considering yet another ACA-repeal healthcare bill, a bill that would significantly harm millions of Americans. Every major medical association opposes this bill, including the American Medical Association because it violates their oath to “First Do No Harm”. The Medicaid directors from all 50 states have spoken against it. And yet, despite overwhelming opposition, the bill’s passage or failure in the Senate teeters on the edge, and will likely come down to the yes or no vote of a single Republican senator.  

Yes or No. 

I’m so tired of knowing my child’s future and well-being depends on one of these two words, uttered by men and women who for the most part are simply playing a political game.

I’m weary of oscillating between terror and relief, with only a few weeks respite between the two.

I’m exhausted with constantly seeing the words Breaking News and knowing there’s a fairly good chance what follows those words will significantly impact my child.

I’m wasted from the sense of dread I feel when I go through a stack of mail and see my son’s name on an official looking envelop, or receive a call from an unfamiliar number.

I’m worn down from having to describe my son as a series of symptoms, disabilities and diagnosises to strangers whose clicks and keystrokes put him in either an “Approved” or “Denied” category.

I’m drained from not only worrying about my own child’s future, but also the futures of the children of close friends, and so many others who bravely share their stories online.

I’m fatigued from begging my friends and acquaintances to call their representatives, knowing the majority of them won’t, but having faith that those who do will make even a small difference.

I’m numb from realizing over and over again that so many people who proudly proclaim themselves pro-life (both politicians and regular citizens) also don’t consider basic healthcare a fundamental human right.

My spirit is tired, and my body and brain are exhausted. And yet, the stakes are too high for too many human lives to quit now.

Nevertheless, she persisted.