Blow by Blow Account of Panxiety Attack

Sunday

10:33 a.m.
My skin is crawling with anxiety. Paranoia is seeping in. I have no idea why. My ear itches, I assume someone is talking about me. (Thank you for that superstition, mom.) I am on edge. There was a knock at the door and all I could think is, what the fuck has gone wrong now.
I took a xanax.
Still I feel like I have bugs crawling all over me. I am itchy. Twitchy. Even my lips and scalp itch.
My nose itches, and again, thank you mom, I think someone is going to call or come by. What the fuck has gone wrong now…
It started last night, this can of crazy opening itself. I can find no trigger. It is maddening.
—–
11:50 a.m.

I have numbed the crazy.
Last resort, of course. Truth be told, I can’t stand medicating unless I am at wits’ end.
And today I was.
The bug crawly feeling is gone. The paranoia is tuned down to two.
I feel shitty for not being tough enough to do it on my own. It keeps getting shoved down my throat that “you can control” it.
Telling someone they can control mental illness is as stupid, and dangerous, as telling a diabetic they don’t need insulin, they can just “think positively” and “will” their sugar levels into check.
*****
12:27 pm

The bugs are back.
No, I don’t mean I see bugs.
But bugs crawling on the skin is the best analogy I can make to describe the heightened paranoia and anxiety. I am starting to think Xanax has a very brief half life. Maybe I have become immune to its properties to ward off anxiety. It works on violent panic attacks. Generalized anxiety…that turns into panxiety…Not as much.
Maybe I am allergic to my laundry soap or body wash and that’s why every inch of skin feels itchy like bugs are crawling. I have allergies out the wazoo.
But prior to having my daughter, I never had paranoia or anxiety this bad.
There’d been hope the whole pregnancy/labor/childbirth thing might shock my chemicals normal.
Instead, I think it’s gotten worse.
Thank god for my fragmented soul and compartmentalized personality. I can paste on the happy face and fool people for the most part while shielding my child from mommy’s crazy.
I just wish something would shield me from my crazy.
*****
3:16 p.m.

Picked my kid up from mom’s. Took me ninety mins to get her to leave because there were other kids there. And when I walked in, Spook let out a shriek, “Mommy, you’re not supposed to be here, you’re ruining it!”
Yeah, I felt wanted. And I have her 26 hours to play there.
Then I get her home and not two minutes in she starts throwing a tantrum because I wouldn’t let her wear her muddy shoes inside.
Then it was being told she needed pants because her dress is too short.
Parenting is a thankless job. She always acts out like this when she goes to my mom’s. My mom has no rules, everything is yes.
Not to mention all the lies she told mom (like I make her go to bed at 7pm) trying to start shit.
My anxiety was bad.
This isn’t helping.
I just wish I could find a way to reach my daughter. Firmness doesn’t work, calm and quiet doesn’t work, nothing bloody works.
I’d say for being so unstable, I am doing pretty damn well considering how difficult my child is.
Though it is no wonder my anxiety is off the charts and I am so exhausted every minute of the day. Between mental illness and a headstrong disobedient kid, it drains you.
Least the bug feeling is gone.
For now.
****
3:55 p.m.

My daughter wanted to videotape me using her Leap Pad.
I played along, did the zombie mommy/want brains thing.
But I am so high strung and self conscious, it made me start breaking out in hives.
This is why I don’t do video chat.
Or maybe the hives are because my dad is coming by. A visit with both parents in one day…Yeah, that’d do it.
*****
6:30 p.m.

I wave the white flag. My kid refused to eat what I fixed for supper, threw a hissy fit even though she has eaten it many times before. I’ve had enough. Time to curl up in bed. If I am lucky, I will let her lay down in my bed and she will stop complaining.
*****
7:00 p.m.

Starting to calm down. Fucking phone rings. Now my anxiety is up and my kid is bouncing off walls again. Fuck
****
8:10 p.m.

Once again, getting her to wind down…And the damned phone rings again. My mood is vile, my nerves are frayed ropes, and I am really just exhausted.
*****
10:50 p.m.

Kid finally fell asleep. After an hour of her snoring and hogging the bed, I carried her to her own bed. Only then did I begin to relax. Truth be told, I don’t like to sleep with others. It makes me nervous. I am up and down too often and the stress of not waking a bedmate is too much.
Of course, now my mind won’t stop churning and I took the xanax.
Tick tock.
I was ready to zonk at 6:30, tapped the fuck out.
Always good to know my battery bunny neurotic brain always has the energy to hasten my descent into madness.
Fuck.

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One Response to “Blow by Blow Account of Panxiety Attack”

  1. Panxiety. That word is just full of win!

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