Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Tragedy and Social Media

It's been a while and I'm going to try to do this post without losing my mind or my train of thought as there are three kids swarming around me, one being less than agreeable about anything. I'm ignoring all this, mostly. Thank you, Celexa.

In the aftermath of last weeks tradegy it seems almost unthinkable right now for anyone to complain about their children, given so many lost their lives. Eventually everyone will get back to normal and stop thinking they can't let out their frustrations. But...until that happens...I'm not complaining. Not really.

I can, however, complain about Social Media and the Media in General. Because that's still acceptable. I have to admit I hadn't watched one bit of news on Friday or listened to a radio. I was busy filling custom doll orders for Christmas. Every so often, though, I would browse facebook and notice my feed blowing up with prayers, and thoughts, and tears and broken hearts. This happened all day and through bits and pieces I finally figured out what had happened. Sad. Very Sad. Very tragic. I felt no need to add my own sentiments as it seemed really unimportant to send them out to people who were not affected by this personally. Plus, I hate following the crowd.

This went on and on and on...Until...the sentiments began to dwindle and the WAR began. All of those warm thoughts and prayers suddenly turned into a war on guns and those who carry them. A war on those who believe we should not be allowed to carry. A war against anyone posting anything funny that day. A war against people saying no one should post anything funny day. By the end of the night I was ready to puke. Seriously. Let's use this tragedy to fuel our own anger and pointless arguments. That will help.

That was facebook. The actual Media can bite me. I watch the news for the weather only and that is often wrong as well. Being someone who battles anxiety on a daily basis, The News, is no place for me to be. I don't care who thinks I need to "be informed". They can bite me too, because, honestly, I don't. My life is much better not knowing most of the shit the Media seems to want me to know.

In the middle of it all, I found this


For those looking for answers...well, you probably won't find any, but you may just get a glimse into a world that, in all honesty, has nothing to do with politics, the media, or guns, but a world that has everything to do with the events that took place on Friday. Sometimes more does need to be done. But sometimes there is nothing that can be done.

Aside from all of that, I'm doing well, just busy as hell. I'm looking forward to things again and I know it is largly due to the medication, which means I'm sticking with the plan. I could still be doing better, and I know what areas need more work, but I think I'll just try to survive the Holidays first.

Hope, who is done Christmas Shopping. For real, this time!

Monday, December 3, 2012


“Anxiety is love's greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic.”
Anaïs Nin

This is true. And sometimes telling the truth is hard. Harder still on the one being told.

It's Monday and I'm coming off a weekend of kids, which is often hard for me. The Celexa reached it's limit as to what it could and couldn't do for me so unfortunately last night I needed a Devil Pill in order to keep my head from exploding, quiet my heartbeat, and finally (I don't even know when) fall asleep.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Kids are kids. They are loud. They are messy. They go non-stop. My kid tends to be a little less of all of those things because, well, I'm his mother. But for the most part I guess all of that is normal. Only loud, messy and non stop always seem to send me into a panic. I feel like I'm stuck in a tornado. There's no order. And having order is one of my main coping mechanisms when it comes to my anxiety. Always has been. Always will be. When I have order around me I can keep order within me. This is hardly worth mentioning, of course, to anyone that doesn't feel the same way.

Most of the time, I just try to keep out of the way. If I do get brave enough to say...venture into the living room of doom and clutter...there usually isn't even a place for me to sit. So I'll back away slowly, sit in the other room, maybe do something on my computer. I struggle with wanting to feel like I belong in that picture, but also knowing I'm not comfortable there. This is one of those truths that's hard to tell, and possibly harder to hear. It's one of those truths that has no solution. At least not for me.

Becoming a mother did not come naturally for me. Not. At. All. I wouldn't change it, of course, but I'm just being honest. Perhaps is doesn't come naturally to anyone who suffers from Chronic Anxiety. I don't know. Through the initial struggle, I had to learn who he was, and that made the process a hell of a lot easier.  It didn't take long for me to realize I had to tell him what we were going to do before we did it...like, going in the car...going outside...changing his diaper. Even before he learned to talk he needed to know what was coming next in order to feel comfortable. He liked order and routine. And that I could understand. I don't have a wild and crazy child. I have a child like me. Mostly quiet, not hyper, sensitive, shy, imaginative, artistic, caring, neat (as neat as an 8 year old can be), and anxious.  That, I also understand.

The rest of the worlds kids, however, send me into a fit of panic. Cute as they may be, my brain can't keep up with their constant bouncing around from subject to subject or couch to couch.  Their mess thrown all about the floor sends me into hybernation mode and I just want to hide until it's not there anymore. This is really nothing new either. I've pretty much always felt this way so why I decided to have a child of my own in the first place is one of lifes great mysteries.

So, there it is. A piece of my truth, and my next hurdle to try to overcome. Whether it's anxiety or just a personality trait, I'm not really sure. I know sometimes traits clash. It happens. We all are who we are in this world and sometimes trying to mix an odd combination together creates and less than appetizing result.

Hope, who is starting to understand herself again.