Calming The Crazy One Stitch at a Time
Or, how I use crocheting to help with my anxiety
At any point in my day/week/month…well, my whole life, I have a Rolex of things going on in my mind. It’s not just people, places, and phone numbers. I have a regular running to do list for my week, reminders to make appointments (or go to appointments) for myself, my husband, and our dogs. I have to figure out dinner and then make said dinner, follow up on plans and people’s birthdays so that I can remember to wish them a happy birthday.
In short, my mind is Grand Central Station and not only am I expected to conduct the trains, but I’m also expected to know where every store is and how much it costs for a coffee or a little snacky-snack. I can’t remember a time in my life that my mind wasn’t going every which way with my body trying feebly to catch up.
I have all these balls in the air, and I need to keep them there, each spinning and twirling, and if I drop a single one everything else comes tumbling down.
And have I mentioned I’m also a perfectionist? That I can’t do things “good enough”? That my body will quite literally not let me stop until my brain is satisfied?
It’s no wonder I developed an anxiety disorder. I was probably born with it, to be honest.
And when it gets really bad, I freeze. Shut down, really. Like I can see everything that needs to be done, and I see the Pile growing, and yet I can’t do anything. I can’t start any of the tasks.
But the problem is, I can’t sit there either. The longer I sit there, the more frozen I become. Anxiety and panic pile on along with that voice in my head that tells me I suck and I’ll never be anyone.
It’s a cruel, never ending cycle.
But I finally found a way to squash those thoughts and pull myself out of the darkness of my mind. I pick up a crochet hook and yarn and start to stitch.
I know that sounds waaay too easy, and almost silly to write a whole post about, but for me it’s become a vital part of my life. I used to write when I was stuck – I used to get myself lost in the stories of my mind, but as I got older my desire to write waned and I was stuck with too many thoughts and no escape.
When I pick up a hook and my yarn, I’m too busy focusing on what I need to do than what my mind is trying to convince me of. Especially if I’m working on a new pattern that I found or the middle of a project that’s become a bit more daunting than I assumed.
Focusing on each stitch grounds my mind and it pulls me out of the deep freeze.
The best part is, I don’t even have to be working on a specific project. I don’t have to have an end game. I just need to start working chains with my hook, and with each chain, the anxiety ebbs. When I’m lasered onto what’s in front of me, it gives me a respite for what’s around me.
If I have something to focus on, everything else in my mind slows down until it’s manageable again. I can actually feel my body unwind with every chain; I can feel the muscles loosen and a sense of calm sliding over me like a small wave against the sand of the beach. By the time I’m done with a project, there’s nothing left of my anxiety. It has retreated back into the cave it came from.
It’s funny because with anxiety, or at least with my own anxiety, if I think too much of what I have to do, I freeze and get nothing done. Yet, I also yank myself back to reality by doing things.
The saying goes, idle hands are the devil’s playthings. In my case, my idle mind is my anxiety’s plaything. My anxiety is the monster under my bed, ready to jump out when I least expect it.
My crocheting is the comforter tucking me in tight, keeping the scary things away.
I never thought that the silly fashion class project would amount up to much more than the simple project. I definitely didn’t think that it would become an intricate part of my life, another cog in the wheel of keeping me healthy.
Now, all I need is some tea and a nice robe, and I’ll be entering my old lady era. (Oh let’s face it, I already have those things and I’m well into that era of my life 😂)
I hear ya and it doesn't stop after the kids leave the nest. In fact, I feel like my mind is a computer with way too much memory!! I crochet too. :)
Yup, uh huh, hear ya loud and clear. I knit, for some reason crochet escapes me, but same thing. It almost puts me in a trance.
Back in the less good old days, so would go on rants. I never knew how to take or what to do with all that was said, and I’d get worked up and inevitably there’d be a big disagreement.
I started knitting kind of in self defense. It’s freaking rude to pick up a book when someone is talking, but you can certainly pick up your knitting, use barely any ear at all, and go “mm hmm. Ahh. Oh, dear. Yes that does sound frustrating. Oh my. That must be challenging.” Etc
Brain stays out of it, person has their say, all systems remain calm and no nonsense cascade is on.
I mean to say, I did knit before that, but I finally just kept knitting to hand all the time so I could whip it out and start clicketting and be soothed. I’m thinking of resuming this. Different reasons but same desired outcome.