Now…And Earlier

Another day in the grips of anxiety extreme, complete with pretzel gut, paranoia, and sheer terror and dread. My kid napped briefly so I just put a sheet down on the living room floor, got my body pillow and sleep mask, and I laid down fully expecting to do nothing but toss and turn. And I did for awhile. But then I nodded off. And the cats made something fall so the loud crash woke me and sent me into a tailspin of thudding heart panic. By then, it was time to get us both cleaned up for her school thing.

I wouldn’t let her wear what she’d napped in because it was sweat drenched and she balled up her fists and hit me in the stomach. I gave her a swat on the butt and sent her to her room. Sue me. I don’t think mollycoddling the little snowflakes is doing any good, especially when a child hits the parent. Quick, call the authorities, I am the fucking devil. I still won’t let her get away with hitting me and time outs and taking her shit away are doing zilch.

We went to her school thing. We arrived like two minutes before the doors opened and there was a crowd of like a hundred already lined up. I had to remind myself to breathe and shamble on. Then we found her classroom and desk and I was reading the handbook and muttered, “Jebus, these people are nazis.” I mean, no hair dye, jewelry, make up. And the whole no “items that can be used as a weapon?” Seriously, motherfuckers? A sharpened pencil in the hand of a volatile child is a weapon and you made us buy them 48! Morons. Spook’s new teacher is like 4’11 and tiny, looks younger than my 16 year old nephew. Seems friendly enough. Hopefully she’s more communicative than the Kindergarten teacher was who blew off every parent conference we were supposed to have. On one hand, it means my kid must be doing ok. On the other, how dare your handbook tell me my responsibility is to be involved in my kid’s education then tell me there’s no need to meet. WTF?

Much to Spook’s delight, her locker is right next to the youngest devil girl, the one whose dad won’t let the kids play with her for whatever fucked up reason. If anything, they gave my kid lice three times, I should be the one banning their friendship. But I’m not an asshole like that ‘cos ya know, kids get lice, BFD. Not to mention I’d prefer my kid not hang out with spawns of morons, but it’s the not the kids’ fault. They’re being raised by wolves, ya know. My bad, that’s an insult to wolves. I am wondering how long before those idiots demand the school move Spook’s locker away from their demon spawn’s. Cooties and all that. I really wanna take a shovel to the heads of such idiotic people. (Oddly, they are fine to play with the little boy who went around bragging that his family had to move over here cos of a bedbug infestation, wtf?)

I survived a half hour, but it was harrowing. I was well dressed and made up (in black, of course) but I was sweating bullets and woozy and felt like a bag was over my head. I needed to escape. But I faked the civility thing. And fled back to my bubble. Where the child all the teachers were gushing about being so sweet and quiet and how they’d missed her…Started screaming at me all over again because I wouldn’t let her brand new dress to go play outside. She’s done nothing but complain and yell at me since 7 a.m.and to say I am exhausted and demoralized is an understatement. I thought I might get a second win since I survived the harrowing event. But nooo, come home and the kid has to continue sucking the life out of me while coming off as a respectful polite angel to everyone else. Seriously, whose cheerios did I piss in to deserve this shit:? I’m doing my best, ffs.

I’m just gonna post what I rambled on during the day because it’s pretty relevant in the capacity of anxiety disorder and its distortions. Feel free to skip that part. I’m wiped out. Crypt is calling my name. Does it really count if I “did it” when it sucks the life out of me to this extent?

Well, the internet has been down almost an hour. I am freaking out. Ya know the nagging thoughts of anxious doom. Did they cut me, off ‘cos they forgot to enter my payment in the computer? Has my neighor (again) hijacked my cable net? Was I hacked and someone’s been using my IP to download shit? Is my router broken? Is the laptop fucked? The desktop won’t bring it up either, OMG PANIC PANIC PANIC.
No, it can’t merely be that blinking lights on the modum indicate no service.The anxiety has to bring up every horrendous explanation possible. I keep telling myself it will come back up, service goes down from time to time. It was running like shit yesterday and even R said his at the shop was, too. No reason to freak out,things go wrong all the time. So why doesn’t scumbag brain believe me?
Sad thing is, I am 1.5 mg into my daily Xanax and it’s barely making a dent. I keep dreading tonight even though I know at most it will be a half hour most of it spent trying to find a parking space then get out of traffic hell. I tell myself this. It doesn’t seem to help. I try to adopt the shiny happy people, “Oh, it will be fun, you’ll see!” to no avail. I mean, it doesn’t make my pretzel gut suddenly all gone. It doesn’t keep me from breaking out in a cold sweat.
It’s like I can’t think, can’t move on to a distraction, because DAMN IT THE INTERNET IS DOWN AND THAT IS CATACLYSMIC and I have to face a crowd tonight in unfamiliar territory…
I can see why it all seems so asinine to people without an anxiety disorder, I really can.
But it’s my reality. And it makes me wish I could live in fiction.

And the net came back up. BREEAAAATHE. Ridiculous as it is…This is how I live my life. Not because I can’t live without internet, I have lots of times. It’s just my tether to the outside world, my therapy to blog and connect with others and without it, I may as well be in a unabomber shack in Bumfuck. Psychomatic for sure but logical to me.

My kid is like a hungry lion catching the scent of the gazelle that is injured, then moves in for the kill. I swear when I am a nervous wreck she can smell the anxiety in my sweat. That’s when she decides acting out is a good idea. Today has been nothing but her arguing with every word I say even over something simply like “that shirt is black.” NO IT’S NOT, MOMMY, IT’S BLACK WITH SILVER SEQUINS. She just yells at me and I correct her and she says, “I’ll be good now.” Then she starts in with the noise, the constant questions, then arguing with whatever answer I give her. Swatting her butt, grounding, her taking her favorite things away-none of it works. If anything, she runs with the “you’re so mean” thing and convinces people I am some sort of military drill sargeant.
I told her earlier I want to clean up her room. She went off and said no, she didn’t want her dresser moved. I said I was gonna move that. Ten minutes later, she’s demanding I get in there NOW and move the dresser to the opposite of the room.
WTF? Like I needed added stress.
The child therapist said it’s all me, my kid senses my anxiety or depression and thus she gets anxious and sad and I trigger her. Which is weird because I do pretty damn well wearing my mask of normality while my skin crawls off my bones. When she asks, I’ll just say, “Mom’s having a rough day” or ” I don’t feel so well.” I don’t sit around bawling, cowering, gnawing on my nails throwing out psych terms and transferring my issues onto her. That counselor is full of shit. I suppose it’s my fault, too, that she’s already broken the latch on the dvd player mom got her for her birthday. I must have portrayed an expression of destruction.

I did dishes and tossed in a load of wash. Still no pants at 1:38 in the afternoon but it’s so muggy I am gonna need a shower and it seems stupid to get all cleaned up, then by six when her thing is, be all sweaty and nasty again. Fuck it.

 

 

 

 

 

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8 Responses to “Now…And Earlier”

  1. I would most definitely panic if my internet went down!! And whatever about the child therapist. Of course you play a major role in Spook’s life, but you are not the only factor. Saying “you trigger her” offers a part explanation, but it’s not actually helpful since you have a legit mental illness that you are actively treating. Does she have any other ideas?! Jeez.

  2. People are stupid {*assholes, jerks, wastes of air/space, idiots, _______ insert word(s)} I have anxiety all the time, seriously, provoked by breathing,,,,

    • My anxiety is generally manageable at home *(until noise and people turn it to panxiety) but out in the dish…it’s crippling. If there were just no people…

      On Fri, Aug 14, 2015 at 9:02 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

      >

      • See I always have some low level anxiety & seriously even moderate household noise makes me jumpy, startle easy,,, SUX. I delay taking alprazolam until can’t take it any longer (why I don’t know?)

      • I do the same even though my script is authorized for 0.5 four times a day. Probably because of the brainwashing that everyone who takes xanax is a drug addict.

        On Fri, Aug 14, 2015 at 9:27 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

        >

      • Exactly, that’s what I’m thinking,,, I’m Rx’d same & take 2 definitely, maybe occasionally 3 daily,,,

  3. I do the same thing with my ativan. I have 1mg 4x daily and I wait until I’m really losing it to take one. I’m always afraid that I’ll get depressed. Or maybe I am depressed, but that’s what’s making me edgy and if I take one than I’ll go to sleep. I’m sure we’re all capable of twisting ourselves into any twisty shape we want to.

  4. Mark them all so we can feed them to the zombies. Idiots need to die first.

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