Saturday, February 25, 2012

If You Can't Laugh At the Anxiety...

The anxiety has been on hyper drive over here for the last few weeks. At least there are clear reasons. In  a week I'll be taking two little guys on an airplane solo to go see my folks. My shrink even thinks it's a bad idea, but whatever, I really want to see my family. C's sleep has deteriorated terribly. We've got him back on track with the nights, but he isn't napping, which makes me want to slit my wrists (Metaphorically, people, metaphorically. I'm not suicidal at all). The boys just came off antibiotics and are getting brand new colds, and the whole being pulled over thing did not help matters.

So what happens when I get like this? I feel fat. Last night I was making pizza for dinner and I suddenly couldn't stand it for a minute longer. I told Z I had to run upstairs. Where I promptly took off every item of clothing I had on and got on the scale. My relationship with my body is so damaged that it didn't even help that the number was smaller than I expected. Because I walked over to the mirror and looked at myself and felt total disgust and shame. Then I put yoga pants and a comfy top on and trudged back downstairs.

I told Z what I had done when I started making diner again. He grabbed my shoulders and begged me to take a chill pill. Me, "Hell yes! But we have to wait until I get C down."

And I did take a pill after C fell asleep. It helped. Checking out pinterest helped. The NCIS rerun helped. On the nights where I'm spiraling into anxiety overdrive Z deserves a break. Thankfully there is a bar within walking distance that has beer for $2.50. He got a quiet night without a crazy wife. I was asleep before 10. Which I know because I was passed out when C's crying woke me at 10:03.

The question is what is going to help today? I can't take a chill pill every day. We don't get on the plane for another week and my family and I can't bear my mental state for 7 more days, one or all of us will explode. I'm going to try to keep my clothes on and stay off of the scale of doom. I'm going to make a key lime pie and some red sauce that will simmer on the stove for hours. We are going to see friends we haven't seen in several years tonight. Maybe by playing at being normal I'll start to feel that way.

And please, if you struggle with anxiety, please, thing of me wildly stripping off my clothing and standing naked and shivering on a scale, breath held until the number appeared. Because, come on, it's fucking hilarious and demented. Because if laughing at me makes you feel one tiny bit better then I'm doing something right and this whole over-sharing blog thing is worth it.

C considering the long term effects of having a crazy mommy. 

Did you know I enamel? I've been doing these for some friends. A penny from the year you were born, a penny from the year your sweetheart was born, first initials stamped on both of them, and into the kiln. The quality of the photo stinks, but this is mine. 

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