World spinning. Loss of control. Head going under… I asked a social media friend recently for a suggestion on an image to pair with my post on anxiety. He not only gave me a suggestion; he gave me his photo! Actually, he offered me several but when I saw this one, I saw in that current what I felt in my post.
“We are no longer going to be doing what you do and are terminating your employment. Your last day will be…” After that I didn’t really pay attention. It wasn’t surprising news but it was still shocking to receive. I was part of a 40% reduction in the HR department so knew not to take it personally. But I still took it personally.
I loved what I did. I was good at what I did. I hired people – of course they were going to keep doing what I did. How could I not take that personally?
My job was my source of income and benefits. I was single, had house and car payments, and had recently started grad school (this job being how I planned to pay for it).
My job was also my source of identity, many friendships, and self-confidence.
All of which instantly evaporated and blew away on the breath that had uttered, “We’re no longer doing what you do…”
I knew the HR game as I was HR. I had just spent 6-8 weeks of 13-hour days helping my R&D managers decide who they had to terminate. A RIF, it’s called. A reduction in force. Permanent job loss.
According to one site, “The reduction in force leads to cost savings, eliminates redundant positions, and streamlines business operations.”* They caution it may negatively impact the company’s reputation.
Hello, it also causes anxiety and panic attacks for its employees!
Such as the day I was driving from my grad school internship to campus for class. I can still remember exactly where I was when suddenly I couldn’t breathe. My lungs just froze. Or maybe my brain froze and no longer knew to tell my lungs to breathe. I couldn’t even force it – and trust me, I tried.
The grief of job and relationship losses, the financial stresses – they certainly were difficult. But I think the biggest blow was to my self-confidence. I couldn’t keep the job I knew how to do. How did I think I could do this internship, succeed in this program which was a completely new field? I had wanted to become a therapist so enrolled in a local clinical social work program. I wanted to share with others those tools that I had learned just a few years earlier in my own therapy work to pull out of the pit of depression.
Amid learning how to help others, anxiety suddenly swirled into my head.
Anxiety is more than worry. It takes over not just the mind but the body too, like the ability to breathe. That swirling current stole my breath.
A few weeks ago, my husband recalled being sucked into a rip current off the shore of the Outer Banks in North Carolina. He was 7. He was on vacation with his best friend’s family and, thankfully, the father had just instructed the boys what to do in a riptide.
Don’t fight it. Relax and go with it until you get to the end of the current.
Fighting the current is why people drown.
He survived.
And I realized that’s how I’ve learned to survive anxiety as well – recognizing I’m in the current’s pull.
That’s always the first step.
Panicking more only worsens the inability to breathe. I lose when I fight it. I need to relax. I need to remember I am actually getting oxygen even when it feels like I’m not.
Thankfully, I had practiced yoga, breathing exercises, and meditation for many years by the time I lost my job. So, like my husband, I knew what to do in the event of being sucked into the current. Unlike his experience, anxiety isn’t a one and done event. I knew what to do the first time it hit…but I’ve had to do it over and over. And over. Every time that anxiety current rolls back over me.
Even with knowing what to do, the current’s pull can still be terrifying. It took my husband quite far out from shore. But he relaxed and was able to make his way back. I can make my way back from anxiety, from panic attacks as long as I’m paying attention to the current around me.
It doesn’t mean I never end up in the current anymore but it does mean I know that I can survive it.
I can breathe even in the current’s pull.
Always talk to your primary care provider about anxiety symptoms. Moderate and severe anxiety benefit from a combination of talk therapy like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and medication. These links offer excellent self-care practices to help you manage your anxiety as well.
*https://www.randstadrisesmart.com/
