I’m always looking for ways to relax to help reduce anxiety and get out of my head.
Everything I have done over the years has worked.
Exercise. Herbal tea. Meditation. Writing.
As long as I do them.
But my need to relax hasn’t been this fierce in years. It started in March with Covid-19.
What if I catch the coronavirus?
What if I pass it on to a loved one?
What if we die?
What if we survive the virus but live with chronic conditions?
My anxiety was through the roof.
But I managed, thanks to the structure I created for myself.
I work a full-time job. I pay my bills. I run my household. Because that’s what I’m supposed to do.
After the workday, I’d sit with my phone and view content from the design community I follow on social media. In between the shiplap and peel-and-stick wallpaper were stories about essential oils.
Essential oils.
Drops of oil you add to water in the reservoir of a diffuser, which works like a humidifier, infusing scents into the air that also help with emotions, such as anxiety.
At first, I just tapped through the stories. I have a sensitivity to scents. The last thing I needed was a splitting headache from something that was intended to help me relax.
But the more I saw stories about them and the more I worried about the virus, the more I wondered, “Could these oils help my anxiety?”
Then I remembered a bottle of oil I bought in Sedona a couple of years ago. It was right after John’s stroke. We had taken a trip for a few days to get away from everything.
In between the crystals and red rocks was a store that sold oils. I remember telling the salesgirl that I’d been having headaches and tension down my neck.
But again, I have a sensitivity to scents, except to peppermint, which actually helps me breathe. That’s when she told me about a peppermint oil. The scent was hot and cool all at the same time. Heavenly.
The .3-fluid-ounce bottle of oil cost $16.95, but I was ready for relief. I didn’t buy a diffuser. Instead I’d dab the oil behind my ears and on my wrists. When I felt anxious, I would take sniffs straight from the bottle.
Then life got busy and the bottle got shoved into a drawer. Fortunately, the bottle resurfaced after the move into the new house.
After learning more about the oils on social media, I pulled out the bottle and thought, “Huh! I purchased an essential oil before I knew essential oils were cool.”
That’s when I decided to take the plunge. But because I wasn’t sure I would like them or if they’d even work, I settled on a reasonable diffuser and a 3-oil kit by Design from Target.
Now I was curious.
What would they smell like?
How would they make me feel?
If I diffuse in the mornings, could they help set the tone for the day?
If I diffuse in the evenings, could they help me unwind?
With each passing day, I grew more eager for the diffuser and oils to arrive. But for whatever reason, the order was delayed. Not once. Not twice. But three times.
Of all the online orders I had placed since avoiding the stores because of Covid, this was the one that had to be delayed – three times, mind you. The one that contained items that were going to help me relax.
So I waited. And waited. And waited.
Sometimes I would open the front door just to see if they’d surprise me.
The diffuser and oils finally arrived five days after the initial delivery date. And it wasn’t a moment too soon.
My anxiety had been up again with all of the unrest in the country. I couldn’t peel myself away from the news and yet the images on the screen were keeping me up at night.
I had made it a habit to let delivery boxes sit a few days before opening them. But not this one. I tore into the diffuser and oils the day they arrived.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that the diffuser was easy to operate. The oil set contained Lavender for calming, Balsam Fir for soothing and Relax Blend for peace.
I diffused the Relax Bend that night. My initial reaction was potpourri. Orange rind. Woodsy.
I set up the diffuser in the kitchen to enjoy as I prepped dinner and then moved it to the living room where I wrote for a few hours.
Later that night, John remarked that I seemed more at ease than I had been in a while.
Could it have been the oils?
Or was it that the scenes on TV were not as horrific as they had been?
The next night I began diffusing the peppermint oil I bought in Sedona and then left the room for about 15 minutes to talk to John upstairs. When I returned, the room smelled like Christmas.
I wrote for about an hour that night and hadn’t felt that calm in weeks.
Was it the oils?
Or was it my wanting to believe it was the oils?
It may be too early to say. But I’m liking how I feel, so much so that I’m thinking about ordering a diffuser for the bedroom. John wants one for the loft.
Designing Goldilocks 