For those of you new to this, I suffer generalized anxiety disorder and panic disorder. Makes life a real roller coaster some days.

This weekend was hard. Despite the fact I had managed a very rare four-day-weekend, I had a tough time getting through it. My anxiety decided to pack a few overnight bags and overstay its welcome.

The last time I had a stretch off, I felt relaxed and emotionally even. I had picked up my laptop and did a boat-load of writing. I hoped this weekend would yield the same, but sadly, no. I know the things that triggered my anxiety were ‘all my fault’—lines of thought completely avoidable, which is why I know that I did this to myself.

Friday we had to prepare for a big Easter potluck and gathering of friends.

Saturday was the big day and the house filled up with love and laughter.

Sunday turned into errand day.

Monday was spent entertaining the little man and crawling the mall.

Always time well spent!

This should have been relaxing, but my mind and my anxiety made it anything but.

I started thinking: “I have four days off and I’m busy all four days. This is supposed to be a mini vacation! What happened?” I know I focused only on the tasks and chores, and couldn’t focus on all the free time and quiet retreats I’d get. This weekend, my medication completely failed me and couldn’t keep up my positive vibes. This weekend, the anxiety won.

Sleepless nights led to exhausted and emotionless days. I sat on the couch and poked around at blog posts I’m staging for May, but that was about all the creativity I could muster. I picked up a book to read, but couldn’t focus on the words. I picked up a pen and paper, but nothing came out. It wasn’t until Monday afternoon, sitting on the back porch with nothing but me, the sun, and a very vocal American Robin, did I start to find serenity. At the end of my four day weekend, my writing was rewarded with a few lines of scribble in a new journal I bought to try to boost my mood.

Even a new notebook wouldn’t help 🙁

Come Monday night, I turn the alarm on my phone back to ‘work’ mode. A punch of sadness gets me. I feel like I’ve accomplished nothing these past four days other than to watch a few episodes of a show on Netflix and do some laundry. Even though I know I’ve accomplished so much more—hosted a party, went to the mall with my favourite little man, etc.—I don’t feel relaxed. When the anxiety wins, I feel like everything was all for nought.

And not a minute earlier!

Times are especially tough since the hubs is also coming down with serotonin-deficient symptoms. Since depression runs in both of our families, it was inevitable that this would affect both of us. Whatever the hubs is going through hit him hard this weekend too, and I didn’t want to bring up my anxiety for worry that I’d cause him even more worry or suffering.

So, I put on a big smile and act like I’m not silently crapping myself. I must have done a good job because the hubs told me it was so nice that I was around this long weekend because I always have such a positive attitude and good energy. It’s bittersweet because it really is all an act. I smile because I know it’s socially more acceptable than a frown. With there being such a stigma around mental health, it’s hard not to plaster a smile on your face and tell everyone that everything is fine when it really isn’t.

Well, here’s hoping I’ll be able to get through the week and actually enjoy my next weekend. Keep that positive attitude, right?