Carrots are good for you?

I’m prone to anxiety attacks. Ever since I was a little kid, I have had terrifying bouts of crying, hyperventilating, panicky breakdowns. When I was younger they were triggered by smaller things such as having to go to bed at a certain time or a test I was supposed to take the following day. As I have gotten older, the attacks come at about the same frequency but usually require tougher issues to push me to that breaking point.

On Sunday night I reached the edge. After seeing $25k in hospital bills from a “troubled appendix”, weeks of pain with my back, frustration at work, and days of more intense back pain from the cortisone shots – I lost it.

Blubbering about my issues to my exhausted husband, I felt as though the weight of the world was on my shoulders. The heaviness on my chest increased as I went down the list of all the things that were worrying me and the more I thought about my concerns the worse I became.

During my attack I couldn’t understand why life was so difficult. Isn’t it supposed to be easier than this? Why do I always feel like I am on a treadmill sprinting without any opportunity to press the emergency stop button? Why did the reward, or the figurative carrot, never come? Had I betrayed my younger self by settling down in a passionless job to simply pay the bills? What was the point of working my ASS off in college?

After letting me bitch for about 30 minutes, Scotty took a deep breath and explained that, as unfortunate as it may be, this is life. There are tough moments and there are glorious moments. He attempted to remind me of all of the good things in my life (of which there are plenty), but in my condition, I didn’t let him get too far down the happy road.

Exhausting the ‘life has moments of rainbows and butterflies too’ angle, Scott took a more realistic approach and offered some invaluable advice. He told me I needed to slow down. That everyone is chasing that damned stringed carrot, and in fact, it never goes away.

The reward is always changing and morphing into something bigger and better- the carrot gets juicier and fatter- and I always feel as though I am not reaching it. But I am reaching it! I am making progression toward my goals, but too concerned with the next step to take time to enjoy the smaller rewards.

He advised me that instead of running full speed after the carrot, I should take a leisurely stroll toward it. He encouraged me to stop to smell the flowers, take breaks once in awhile and cut myself some slack when I slip and fall along the path. The carrot is always going to be there, so what’s the point in exhausting yourself on the journey to get it?

His advice dried up my tears immediately (which for anyone who knows me well enough understands that this is no easy feat). I slept soundly that night and woke up the next morning with a more optimistic and fresh perspective.

I am still going to chase after the carrot, after all I am a driven and ambitious woman, but I am going to make an effort to enjoy the journey. And, of course, with my Scott’s hand in mine it should go a lot more smoothly.