I have an issue with anxiety and clutter. I'm sitting in my clean bedroom and breathing in how wonderful it feels to have everything put away and organized. I am asking myself, why did we let it get so bad? Why did it take me so long to get things cleaned up? The answer: my anxiety, combined with my husband's attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), got in the way. When not under control, anxiety and clutter can form a cycle in our home. 

There are a few effects of my husband's attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) that make my anxiety skyrocket. Still, we have found ways to navigate these issues and come out on top. Some of his symptoms that have come to be the most relationship-building are brainfarts and ADHD paralysis. A spouse with ADHD can cause anxiety, but it doesn't have to.

I recently started thinking about anxiety and laughter at bedtime with my kids. "I love when you laugh." It was a simple statement by my oldest daughter as we giggled while I cuddled her before bed. It hit me to the core. I hadn't laughed with her like that in a long time -- especially not at bedtime, the most stressful time of the day. At that moment, I realized just how much my chronic anxiety had been impacting my sweet girl.

One of the most difficult side effects of my anxiety is irritability. I can easily snap over small things. It's exhausting to feel irritable most of the time, and my poor family gets the brunt of it. In my journey to healing, I have found that I am most irritable at certain times of the day. Gaining this knowledge has helped me find ways to conquer irritability, and because of this, I know that you can, too. 

There's so much expectation on everyone during the holidays; to spend money, eat food, make food, drink, be festive, be jolly, be happy, want to be happy, and so on. Being such a chaotic time of year, it's no surprise that people get anxious before, during, and after the holidays. Keeping a gratitude journal helps keep me grounded, especially during the holidays.

I have three children -- two daughters and a son. They're adults now with busy lives and stresses of their own. My adult children are exceptional individuals. I love and respect them as I know they love and respect me. Why, then, do I get anxious when I need or want to speak to them, ask them about their lives, or talk about something important to me?

Symptoms of dissociation can be terrifying. One night, I had horrific acute, prolonged panic symptoms, and in an out-of-body utter state of confusion, I looked at my husband and asked, "Are you going to have me committed?"

The combination of confrontation and anxiety is a significant issue for me. We've all had to make that dreaded call to customer service to report an issue. Something has gone wrong, so you're already ticked off, but you do your best to proceed politely. Or, at least, I do. Most times, the issue is resolved quickly and with minimal upset. But then there's that one frustrating experience where nothing goes right, and the resolutions are unacceptable, which triggers so much anxiety that you feel you'll either explode or simply shut down.

Growing up, I left the room when my parents turned on the nightly news. I had no interest. Besides, it was all bad news, or so it seemed: wars, fires, shootings, murders, robberies, injustices, bickering politicians, and so on. No, thank you, I had anxiety around the news.

Nobody likes cleaning. Wait. That's not right, because I've known people who enjoy cleaning as it provides a sense of accomplishment or something else I can't comprehend. Not me. I hate cleaning. I especially hate the big jobs. They give me anxiety. Of course, I procrastinate, the job gets bigger, and my anxiety increases. So, I procrastinate some more. And I do it again and again. It is a circle of procrastination and anxiety that eventually must be tackled.