The affects of love and relationships on anxiety

Love, heart, miss. All of these people say daily to their loved ones. How can you really tell the magnitude of those words. How they affect a persons mind? How they affect a persons heart? P

Love is important. Comfort. Security and wealth in a way. Wealth in love of those around you does more for me than money. Those around me build a shield. They support me at my lowest. They've dragged me out of the mud many of times. Times I couldn't deal, they know when to hug.

Anxiety is a different being. A person who suffers it can say the same thing. It affects your relationships in an almost surreal way. It changes you, the dynamic of everyone around you. In almost 2 splits. You go from friends to they separate from you so they don't have to deal with it, or they can't deal with it.

The other side is they have sympathy, they have empathy. They try to help you. Try to force and motivate you out of your funk. Those are the people you need to surround yourself with.

I neglected to mention those people who say "you have no reason to be anxious, or those who say anxiety is for weak minds"

Love is a big word. I love my parents, my family, my fiancée, my friends and even the strangers I've never met who wanted to know a little bit about me.

As an anxiety sufferer I constantly strain the relationship with everyone around me. I over complicate things and begin to get paranoid. It borders on insanity. But, it opens my eyes and makes me learn to love when someone says they love me. They miss me.

The people around me will never know how much I owe to them for putting up with my pure frustration and anger. I am unable to express it clearly. I don't know how. You can't put a word big enough for the gratitude of those around you.

Anxiety is never consistent. Is never constant. I've been a mess the last week or so. My family has been with me every step of the way. Love affects in many a positive way.

Without them, I would have no support. I would be eaten alive my by anxiety and probably wouldn't be here. Learn to love those around you regardless of the shit that has happened. Grudges only make the anxiety worse. Build a clear support system. Try to eliminate those sources who try to minimalize your anxiety. Talk about it with the ones you love. That's something I never did. I let anxiety eat me for 2-3 years because I thought I was weak to talk about it with the ones I love.

Don't be afraid to talk to people about anxiety. I love you all, thanks for reading.

Regards,
Devon.

The effect of death on an anxious person

Can't sleep
Don't eat
Can't eat solids
Don't drink
Feel dehydrated
Apathetic
Empathetic
Sympathetic
Don't want to sleep
I hear my grandfather's voice all but 2 weeks ago.

Hear him say he can't wait to go to my wedding, and play crib with me... Sometime after his surgery that was scheduled today.

How does one handle such a sudden death? 85 years of battling and kicking ass at life. He was taken, swiftly and what I feel is unjustly. He battled everyday of his life. For his family. He made the decision to stop drinking for more life, more laughs. At the end of life. All you can hope is you live a life full of love, he did. Live a life where you battled for someone, something. He did.

Why at 85 years 8 months do I feel that it was unjust to take him?

I'm still in disbelief, I thought he would live until 90-100. Living everyday just as stubborn as the last. It eats at me. He battled for us, we showed it. He lives through my family still. I've been heavily medicated through caffeine and painkillers from my surgery.

Which my aftercare is shot. I was irresponsible and didnt care about aftercare. I wanted to be there for my family, I thought I did well enough. Selfless and trying, it amounted to relationships built, I hope.

It makes me anxious about my own life. My thoughts on the times I thought about ending it. It is overwhelming the impact that would've had on my family.

I'm slowly reverting into a misanthrope, an angry person. It is the most common emotion after sadness from grieving. It is a natural cycle. One that isn't fair to life.

I can't go visit him. I can't do the little things like lift his walker in and out of the vehicle. Talk to him about speaking Cree. Which I had planned on since the age of 7. 14 years I had to indulge myself in his stories. Thought I would have time, lost track of time.  I never did. I think that is why I want to talk, and won't ever end the conversation first when I am talking with people. Hang onto those moments when a conversation goes too long.

My final words to him were "never going to say bye, grandpa. I'll say see you later."

I saw him later. Pale, in suspenders, with his glasses on. Seeing some of me in the reflection of his glasses. Waiting for him to get up into his favourite chair and try to engage a conversation deep enough that you don't leave. Regardless of how lifeless he looked. He in a way told his story when you saw him at peace. You could live the life he lived by touching his face.

As naive as it sounds. I felt he was in the room celebrating life, how he wanted us to.

It is the only thing that brings semblance to this mess I am trying to live through. I have a picture of him, me and my godfather, charred and composting in Kinuso somewhere. The only picture I have with him.

I carry you with me grandpa, My Mushom, my friend, my elder. You taught me so much about the meaning of life when you died.

This blogpost is to get some feelings out.

Regards,

Devon

My Eulogy for my Mushom (Grandpa)

How do I put into words what it means you are gone, grandpa? How do I accurately say what you've done for my family?
You were the head cheese, the glue for this family. You were how everyone managed day to day. Knowing you we're are home, watching sports. Making bets and drinking tea. Scratching tickets and waiting for the phone call. How everyone had to yell for you to hear them. You were wise, you were strong and you were a warrior. I know you are a crib player, a conversationalist and a hell of a Cree speaker.

I regret never being able to speak to you in Cree, never taking advantage of the fact you speak it clearly and concise. I always said " oh, I'll go see him next month and start learning." I never got that opportunity. I never got the chance to say tansi, even. Never got to play crib, I promised you I would come play crib with you at the end of April. Instead, I have to help bury you.

You hated grudges, you hated the constant bickering, you wanted your kids and grand kids to unite as a family and stay strong. That message was lost through the years. I'm very sad it took your passing to remind us how strong we can be as a family.

I hear your voice, every time I think about you. Asking me about my girlfriend. Telling me how excited you were to come to my wedding. You'll be there, one way or the other Mushom. You are the reason I battle through my anxiety and pain. You were a true warrior. You had even died and came back to life, battled tuberculosis, alcoholism, multiple bouts of pneumonia, and COPD. You were an inspiration. You were one hell of a stubborn man. Stubborn as a mule doesn't even cut it. You knew nothing could take you out. I am living the same way. Stubborn enough that you came back to life and still kicked its ass for 10 more years.

You always bet 4 dollars on sports select , bought 8 scratch tickets, but never 10,
Because 10 never win you any money. I still see you sitting in your chair, swearing at the TV because Indianapolis screwed you over.

You were the only one who recognized my voice on the phone right away. Talked to Anyone who wanted to list and fight for what's right.

You never wanted to die alone Mushom (Grandpa) and you didn't. For the time that I was alive you always had one of your kids holding s grudge and not talking to you over something. In the past 3 months. You had every kid and grand kid talking to you. With love and appreciation. You never died alone. We all love you. You carry our love and you carry

We always will love you, and you are still with us. You live through all of us.
We are going to struggle to find an identity, a true meaning to life.
I love you Mushom, see you on the other side
I love you more than life itself Mushom.
You didn't want us to be sad when you passed, so, I'm going to try. I am trying. But, I truly miss you more than anything. I would give anything just to play a game a crib with you, to talk to you.

Best regards,

Devon

God bless you Mushom Max. You're never forgotten.