Preparing for Takeoff: Finding Peace + Making Progress When You’re In a Waiting Period of Life

Preparing for Takeoff: Finding Peace + Making Progress When You're in a Waiting Period of Life | Regardless of what you're waiting for, viewing life's "in-betweens" as opportunities for learning and growth can help you make the most of these trying times.

If you’ve ever flown on an airplane, then you’re familiar with taxiing–the part where your plane leaves the terminal and begins its slow crawl toward the runway for takeoff. The part where you pretend to listen as the flight attendants give their synchronized Vanna White-esque safety demonstrations, knowing full well that if a sudden loss of cabin pressure or an emergency water landing actually occurs, your plan is to panic and pray for a miracle. The part where you realize that you definitely should have used the bathroom prior to boarding, because now you have to wait until the plane reaches cruising altitude and the pilot turns off the “fasten seatbelt” sign. The part where you either awkwardly make small talk with the passengers around you or pretend to sleep in order to avoid such a horror. (Hey, no shame in my introvert game.)

Taxiing.

It’s a necessary part of flying, a crucial step in the journey from Point A to Point B, and yet it’s hardly the highlight. Compared to the rush of takeoff or the thrill of sailing through the clouds at hundreds of miles per hour, taxiing is pretty slow and boring. And if you’ve ever been on a plane that seemed to take quite a while to reach the runway, you know that people tend to get worried and impatient during this time. 

Recently, during one of my own air travel experiences, it occurred to me how much this current phase of my life feels like an in-between, like slow motion–like taxiingI have been staying with my parents since the lease on my grad school apartment ended in late July, an arrangement that was intended to be a short-term fix until I secured full-time employment. I didn’t even unpack most of my things; I simply piled the bags and boxes in a corner in the basement so I would be ready to move the moment I got that coveted offer letter. Yet here I am, five months later, still applying to jobs, still sleeping in their guest bedroom. Still taxiing. I know I’ll reach the runway at some point, but I don’t know precisely when, and so worry and impatience have begun to creep in.

The more I’ve thought about this taxiing metaphor, the more I’ve begun to wonder whether this period of my life might be about something more than just finding a job. Perhaps there are other preparations that need to be made, other lessons that need to be learned, in order for me to be truly ready for “takeoff”–i.e., moving across the country, launching my career, and generally becoming a Real Adult Who Pays for All the Things.

Of course, I can’t know for sure what God has in store, but after a lot of reflection and prayer, I can venture a few solid guesses as to what He might be trying to subtly (or not so subtly) teach me during this time.

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I recently deposited my entire childhood state quarters collection into my savings account, so I’m fairly certain that financial planning isn’t one of His concerns. I’ve totally got this!

First and foremost, I think I’m getting a crash course in Chilling the Heck Out.

If you’ve read any other post on this blog, or talked to me in real life for more than 5 minutes, you know that I’m a planner, a list maker, Preparedness Girl! My Myers-Briggs personality type is INFJ, emphasis on the J. As 16personalities.com so aptly explains:

People with the Judging (J) trait do not like to keep their options open – they would rather come up with five different contingency plans than just go ahead and deal with the challenges as they come. They prefer clarity and closure, always going with the plan rather than the flow.

Like, guys, the above paragraph so perfectly sums up my life that it should probably be engraved on my tombstone someday. I hate not knowing what’s happening five minutes, five days, or five years from now, so I plan things in my head and on paper to ease the discomfort, to give me some sense–some illusion–of knowledge and control.

So all of this waiting and uncertainty? Excruciating–yet so incredibly important for someone as tightly wound as me. I need to learn to find peace even in the face of unpredictability. I need to learn to be okay with answering “I don’t know yet” when people ask about my future plans. I need to learn to say, “Okay, God, you’re the pilot. Help me to be a faithful passenger.” Over and over and over and over.

I’d also venture a guess that I’ve been inadvertently enrolled in a second class: Introduction to Self-Worth. Because until recently, I had no idea just how much I tend to base my self-worth on my accomplishments, particularly those in the academic realm.

I’ve been a student for over 75% of my life, and almost 100% of the years I can actually remember. So in conjunction with my natural people-pleasing, over-achiever tendencies, I’ve simply become accustomed to using my performance in school as a proxy for my success in life. And to make matters worse, somewhere along the way, the line between “success in life” and “worth as a human being” got extremely blurry, until the two concepts merged into one. So if Good Grades = Success in Life and Success in Life = Worthy Human Being, then by the transitive property of equality, Good Grades = Worthy Human Being.  Math, yo. 

If I had gotten a job right after graduation and dived straight into the working world, I may have never questioned this flawed line of thinking. I may have simply swapped teachers for supervisors and grades for performance reviews and went on my merry way. But in this post-grad, pre-employment waiting game, no one else is setting the standards for what my life should look like. No one else is telling me to jump so that I can ask, “How high?” APPARENTLY THERE’S NO SYLLABUS OR REPORT CARD FOR LIFE, GUYS. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GO FROM HERE?

Although I still haven’t figured out the answer to this, the mere realization has been a huge wake-up call. If I were to write one of those cliche letters to my younger self, I would totally include this nugget of wisdom.

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“Dear Little Paige, Don’t wear choker necklaces with t-shirts, don’t waste so much of your time pining after boys who don’t know you exist, and oh yeah, don’t base your self-worth on your grades. Love, Big Paige.”

And finally, I think God has thrown in a little bit of recess to balance out the difficult coursework. Because this waiting period, viewed through a different lens, has also been a rare and beautiful gift of extra time. And in these past months, I’ve done my best to make the most of this offering. I’ve used it to read, write, and rest. To learn new skills and reconnect with family and friends. To do yoga to my heart’s content and take long walks around my parents’ neighborhood. To fly across the country and drive all over the state–as well as enjoy entire days of not leaving the house. To take care of myself, physically and mentally. To remember what it’s like to feel alive, and to remember all the wonderful things I have to live for–things that anxiety and depression wanted so desperately for me to forget.

So if you, too, feel like you’re in a waiting period, I encourage you to stay strong, dear reader. I know it’s hard. I also encourage you to look for ways–big or small–in which you’ve actually moved forward during this time. You might find that your world hasn’t been standing so still after all.

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Managing Anxiety: 5 Strategies That Have Worked for Me

Managing Anxiety: 5 Strategies That Have Worked For Me | Strategies such as embracing the diagnosis and seeing a trusted therapist can help keep anxiety at bay.

This past January, I visited my doctor to discuss some disturbing symptoms I was experiencing, namely dizziness, chest pains, and a rapid heart rate at the most unexpected and inexplicable times (such as when I was driving, lying in bed, or sitting in church). I walked into her office terrified that at just 24 years old, I was already exhibiting signs of early-onset cardiovascular disease. I walked out with the knowledge that while my heart and blood vessels were functioning just fine, my brain was another story: I was experiencing Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) along with panic symptoms. (Later on I would learn that I demonstrated many symptoms of clinical depression as well.)

In the months since these discoveries, I have taken a number of steps in hopes of improving my mental (and subsequently physical) health. I still have a long way to go, and GAD may be something that I have to learn to cope with for the rest of my life. Nonetheless, I have found a number of strategies and lifestyle modifications to be helpful thus far, and today I’d like to share some of them with you.

Unfortunately, given the relatively high prevalence of anxiety disorders (including panic disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, phobias, and separation anxiety disorder), it seems quite likely that either you, dear reader, or someone you know and love suffers from one of these conditions. So while the following strategies may not be groundbreaking, I feel compelled to share, if for no other reason than to offer hope for the many others in similar situations. And although I am not a medical professional and am therefore in no position to diagnose or treat anyone else, I do have six years of public health education under my belt, so I intend to discuss the issues in an informed and responsible manner.

I have a total of 10 tips to share, but since I’m nothing if not verbose, I’ll keep this post at a manageable length by discussing only the first half. So without further ado, here are five strategies that have helped me manage my anxiety over the past seven months. And although I’m not focusing specifically on depression in this post, many of these same tactics have helped me tackle those symptoms as well.

  1. Embracing the diagnosis and admitting that I need help. Although the diagnostic labeling of mental health issues can be a controversial topic, for me, discovering that my experiences had a name was immensely helpful. It enabled me to research the disorder and better understand what was going on in my body and mind; it gave me an explanation for my irrational thoughts and actions other than “I’m ridiculous” or “I suck.” It provided me with the vocabulary I needed to communicate my situation to others and helped me to understand that I wasn’t alone in my struggles. And most of all, having a diagnosis forced me to finally acknowledge the gravity of my situation and motivated me to take action and reach out for help. I was no longer just “stressed about school”; I was truly miserable and functioning suboptimally in almost every area of my life, and I lacked the knowledge and resources to turn things around all by myself.
  2. Taking medication. I was initially a bit reluctant and ashamed to take the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI) that my doctor prescribed. The list of potential side effects made my current symptoms seem like a cakewalk, and since I’ve always been an advocate of making holistic lifestyles changes rather than relying solely on pills, I felt like a hypocrite for taking meds right away without at least attempting therapy first. (Therapy came later; see item #3.) But my desperation drove me to start taking the medication anyway and I’m so glad that I did. My panic symptoms (dizziness, chest pains, and racing heartbeat) have completely disappeared, and I haven’t experienced any noticeable side effects. We eventually upped my daily dose a bit and I’m happy with where we’re at right now. Yay for normal serotonin levels!

  3. Seeing a therapist with whom I really connect. Once I finished the semester and my schedule was more accommodating, I started making the 1-hour commute to visit a therapist who came highly recommended by several people I know. Although I wasn’t expecting to find a perfect fit on the first try, after just one session with Nicole, I completely understood why these individuals had spoken so highly of her. She was warm, funny, and an incredible listener, able to weave the various threads of my experiences together into a coherent picture for me to gaze and reflect upon. I laughed, I cried, and I discussed things I hadn’t even realized were bothering me, and the whole time I felt completely comfortable and respected, even when she pointed out that some of my thoughts or actions might be irrational or counterproductive. I’ve continued seeing her all summer and can’t believe the difference. Whereas my medication has helped alleviate my physical panic symptoms, therapy has helped tackle the thought patterns that send me into a spiral of anxiety in the first place.

  4. Talking and writing openly about my experiences. Initially, I wanted to share what I was going through with as few people as possible–my parents, my boyfriend, and maybe one or two friends. I was still processing it all myself and didn’t know how to go about discussing it with others. So for a while, I waited, avoiding the topic whenever possible and speaking vaguely of “appointments” and “medication” whenever I couldn’t get around it. And that’s totally okay! Eventually, though, I felt that I was ready to share–that in a way, I needed to share. My public health education had taught me many things, one of which was that mental health issues are incredibly common and yet all too often not diagnosed, treated, or even discussed. I had always lamented this reality and wanted to do something about it; here was a glaring opportunity. So I started by writing, and then, with some trepidation, by sharing that writing. Hitting “publish” on my first blog post was both terrifying and thrilling; I was finally being completely open and honest about my mental health, but what would people think? Would friends and family suddenly find me burdensome and unstable? Would colleagues be less likely to trust me with major tasks at work for fear that I might not be able to handle the pressure? Would everyone roll his or her eyes and tell me to get over myself? I was fortunate to receive an overwhelmingly positive response, but I see now that even if I hadn’t had such a warm reception, sharing my experiences was the right move for me. On a personal level, writing and talking about anxiety, depression, fear, perfection, vulnerability, mindfulness, identity, and more have been incredibly therapeutic, and on a professional level, I like knowing that in some small way, I’m helping to fight a stigma that causes so many people to suffer in silence.

  5. Being patient with myself. In some regards, I’m a very patient person; however, when it comes to my own personal development, I often expect myself to have it together at all times, to be good at things on the first try, and to flawlessly and immediately adapt to whatever life throws my way. When I started realizing that I would never expect this level of perfection from a family member or friend, I knew that it was time to start being kinder and more patient with myself. I’m going through a lot of life transitions right now, with graduation, moving, and the search for my first full-time job. It’s okay that it’s taking me more than a day, a week, or even a month to wrap my brain around it all. I also can’t expect managing my anxiety to be a perfectly linear process; there will still be plenty of days when I find myself overthinking the smallest of things, worrying about the unlikeliest of scenarios, or feeling tense and panicked for no discernible reason. I’m aiming for large-scale progress, not day-to-day perfection.

So there you have it! In the next installment, I plan to focus more on health behaviors such as sleep, exercise, and caffeine intake. In the meantime, if you have any advice of your own for managing anxiety (whether or not you have a diagnosed disorder), please feel free to leave a comment and enlighten us!