This anxiety thing

Tonight I cleaned the cat box.  This is a normal occurrence at my house except this time the longer it took (and honestly it only took about 15 minutes) the more out of breathe I felt and the faster my heart beat.  There was a deep feeling of dread like something awful was about to happen and as I hunched over this box of sand with a scooper full of poop I felt like my life was going to end.  Like seriously,  this is one of the most undignified things I do in life (Okay,  maybe that’s not true. I mean,  I’ve been known to walk into glass walls and sing to my cat….sober.  Actually I just asked Levi and he claims I’m middle of the road, “You can be normal in certain situations.” Thanks kid.) and I’m freaking out about basically nothing.

Most of the time this is what it’s like.  No particular reason for me to be worried or out of sorts,  but then it hits me and my heart is racing and I can’t breathe.  Sometimes I tear up and other times (luckily not too often) I outright start bawling. For those of you who don’t know much about this disorder,  mine is a more mild case.  I can hang on to my emotions long enough to get to an appropriate place to let them out.  Of course this is because it actually causes me more anxiety to think of freaking out in front of people so I’ve trained myself to hide it until I can let it go. This has taken years of practice. But then I eventually calm back down.

Tonight’s remedy of choice is a nice cool glass of Pinot Grigio. It was between that and an ativan and since I’d  like to stay up to a more decent adult bedtime I chose the faster acting, shorter lasting glass of wine. Plus, it tastes better.





That just sounds a bit alien and formal doesn’t it? “Welcome” Like you’re entering an amazing new world when really this is just a little corner of the Web and I’m sucking you into it.

I’m now on my third iteration of this paragraph and I’m going to say ‘fuck it’ from here on out and just write what comes to mind.  WARNING: there will be swearing and cussing and probably a fart joke at some point because I have two teen boys and that’s what half of my life is at this point.

The other half consists of fighting depression, suppressing the urge to hide in the bathroom when my anxiety gets to be too much,  and trying to raise my little men to be proper feminists.  I’m not always good at all three or even one of them on any given day.  It can be hard,  but then other days it can be surprisingly easy to forget all the shitty things and just enjoy life.  And that’s what I hang on to.

Things you won’t find on this blog:

-super parent tips (I barely survived the toddler years.  You’re on your own.)

-crafts to do in your spare time

-the latest health food craze

-political crap

Things you WILL find:

-random photography

-geekery galore

-lots of information on living with a mental illness that is so misunderstood most people would rather just write you off as crazy

-also,  my boys (They constantly remind me that you CAN laugh at everything and dear god some days I need that.)