Meet Fran [Mental Health Awareness]

I have this friend. Well, friend is not the right word. But I wouldn’t use enemy either, she’s not always terrible. We’ll just say she’s a neighbor.

I will name her Fran. Short for Frantic.

The voice seems a good fit for the manifestation of my Anxiety/OCD.

This neighbor has lived with me my whole life. I can’t remember at time where I haven’t been described as “energetic.” Maybe “intense.” These are polite ways of saying I’m a wee bit crazy. Fran has always been there, tickling my brain with worry and nervous energy.

As a kid, this pesky neighbor reminded me frequently that all household sounds could potentially be someone sneaking in to murder me, and anyone who looked at me in the lunchroom was probably thinking about what a dork I was and that I had my shirt tucked into my underwear. In high school, she kicked things up a notch and told me that no one liked me and every headache was probably cancer, and that ambulance on the road is going straight to my house because my mom died.

But while Fran was frantically lighting fires in my brain, she was also helping me complete every school assignment on time and meticulously practice my piano songs Having my brain always simmering away helped me get stuff done, man! 

Until it didn’t.

Up until I had my first baby, I feel like I was mostly able to channel Fran’s energy into school, work, exercise, and obsessively cleaning my bathroom. She was a nuisance at times, but just a part of who I was.

After Nate was born, Fran stopped being my neighbor, and moved up the street, into my house, into my bedroom, and set up shop full time at the controls of my brain. Fran had kindling for lighting fires, and plenty of it- Is Nate breathing? Why is his poop that color? Is he eating enough? Will he become a serial killer if he sleeps in his crib from birth (Shouldn’t have worried about that one- Should have instead worried that I would become a sleep deprivation-induced serial killer that went on killing sprees, killing only husbands peacefully sleeping through a baby crying.)

There is enough to worry about with a new baby that anyone might have their own Fran take controls for a while. But Fran didn’t even need any fire starters. She was able to light fires all over my brain, with nothing for kindling. I would lay awake all night, my heart pounding, drenched in sweat, while my husband and Nate both slept peacefully. Logically, I knew there was nothing to worry about, everything was okay, I was safe; but I couldn’t do anything to extinguish the flames of worry that consumed me.

I spent a long time trying to metaphorically pick myself up by my bootstraps and kick free-loading Fran to the curb. But I just couldn’t. I exercised, I meditated, I did all of the deep breathing. And Fran would not budge. I was scared of leaving my house, scared to go to sleep at night. Terrified of just existing.

So I got help. And I keep getting help. With the help of a caring therapist, especially utilizing neurofeedback, and sometimes medication, Fran is back to living down the street. And writing in my planner in different colored pens assigned to different kinds of tasks.

I want to state that I am not a mental health professional. I am still about 80% crazy. But having spent too much time at 100% crazy, I’ve learned a few tricks to get Fran to move out of the prime real estate in your head and go back to her little studio apartment down the road.

Reclaim Your Brain

1. Keep a gratitude journal

Mine is on a google drive document on my computer. Every Sunday I write until I don’t want to anymore. Sometimes that’s a couple sentences, sometimes it’s a page. I write about the good stuff that happened that week, and sometimes that things I learned from the hard stuff. But I try to keep it positive-focused. I’m not talking sugar-coating your life, I’m talking about intentionally focusing on the good. I promise; it’s everywhere. 

2. Grounding

This is an exercise I learned from my therapist that really helps me in the midst of an “episode” where I can tell I’m about to lose my grip. Look around and name 5 things you can see, in your head. Think about them, focus on them. Name 5 things you can hear. Notice them and name them. Name 5 things you can touch. Think about how they feel. Repeat the process with 4 things, 3 things, 2, 1. 5-4-3-2-1. I don’t know why this works, but it absolutely does.

Exercise

This is extremely crucial to my mental health. I work out every day. Not to be skinny (hello, have we met? I ate a cookie for breakfast.) But the impact of exercise on my physical symptoms of anxiety is unreal. Exercise dramatically decreases my heart palpitations, insomnia, restlessness, fidgeting and general crazy person pacing. I don’t think it particularly matters what you do for exercise; just move your body. Get sweaty.

Mantras

This one may seem a little hokey, but there is truly power behind repeating mantras until you believe them. I have used many different mantras for various times in my life.

“I can do hard things.”

“This is unpleasant but not scary or dangerous.”

“A comfort zone is a nice place, but nothing grows there.”

“Breathe in peace, breathe out fear.” (This is one I recite constantly while I take deep breaths in through my nose, and out through my mouth. It’s sort of a miracle calming exercise.)

Do something that makes you happy

It took me awhile to realize that watching 12 consecutive episodes of Parks and Recreation does not actually make me happy. Don’t get me wrong; it one of my favorite activities. But it doesn’t do much to “fill my cup.” Doing something that allows me to help people and create gives my overactive brain something to do, and something to feel good about. This blog was honestly born partly from my need to do something every day that makes me happy. Cooking, eating, writing, and laughing all make me very happy. And if my efforts make someone else happy, I couldn’t ask for more.

Get help

I regularly see a therapist and will tell anyone all about it. I feel absolutely zero shame or stigma about talking to someone who can provide helpful and knowledgeable feedback and advice. Talking to friends and family is great, and sometimes I just want to hear, “That does suck and you are awesome and everyone else is terrible.” But that’s not always the most productive way to cope with life. My therapist takes my insurance, and I only pay a small copay when I see her. And it’s worth every dang penny. Why is it acceptable to seek professional help for some issues and not others? It’s garbage. I have a bum thyroid, so I take synthetic thyroid hormones. Aint no thang. My brain produces too much (or maybe too little; I don’t know) of something, and it makes me cuckoo. So I take something. Aint no thang.

Own your struggle

But don’t let it define you. I am not Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I am not Anxiety. If I let that part of me take the reigns, I would never leave my house. But there is power in saying, “Hey, this is hard for me. This is part of me.” Look it in the mirror and acknowledge its role in your life. Give yourself grace in your struggle, and celebrate your triumphs. Your struggle is part of you; but is not all of you.

Fran will always live in my neighborhood. I can thank her for my color-coded closet and my itemized to-do list in my planner. I can acknowledge her presence when I pack for trips or worry about when my child last pooped. And I can use my tools to tell her she’s overstayed her welcome when she wants me to stay up all night worrying about if that boy still remembers that embarrassing thing I said in 9th grade. And if she’s still at the helm despite all of my grounding and journaling and exercising, I can get help from a professional to file a restraining order and get her back down the street where she belongs.

This is me, doing Neurofeedback and training my brain to tell Fran to mind her own dang business.

No matter your struggle, I promise you are not alone. Reach out. There is always someone there to help, or at the very least there to say, “Me too.”

And Fran and I are always here to tell you that we are here for you, we understand, and you should maybe circle back and double check you closed your garage door.