The Evolving Homemaker

Probably not a politically correct way of titling a blog post, but it is my reality at the moment.

For the past two days I have been living on the edge of a life that I spent three or four months living amongst over a year ago.  A constant state of panic.

My body feels like it has been physically hit by a Mack truck.  My mind is spinning, in a kind of haze of course since I have taken a bit of my generic Xanax to get ahead of this thing.

My shrink, or ex-shrink, would have my head right now.  On a platter.  With roasted veggies and potatoes around it, if she new how I had been pushing myself the last month or so.  She would say I asked for it probably.  Or that I know better.  Or that I had ignored everything I had learned in the last year about myself.

I went too hard.  I acted as if I was normal.  I ate like shit.  I lived in the ice cream and cookie jar.  I slept like shit too.  I didn’t meditate or go to any church services.  I didn’t read boatloads of inspiring words.  I was immersed in loud, fast, constant noise, that was busy, busy, busy.

I took not a moment to myself unless it was on a treadmill.  I didn’t rest.  I didn’t eat high protein.  I didn’t spend time on spiritual endeavors.  I didn’t write.

And now I have to pay.

And hate that my life ever has to be like this.

And cry because it is.

It started on Friday morning when I went out for a run with my sisters Garmin.  I don’t really know how to pace myself yet.  I am a sucky treadmill runner who paces herself by machine.  I guess I ran too fast.  I did a 3 mile run 7 1/2 minutes faster than I normally do.  Which is still slow for most people, but I guess not for me.  I thought I might die or vomit a few times, but assumed it was because I wasn’t enough in shape yet, not because I was actually running too fast for me.  I am not smart enough to figure that out I suppose. And it was too humid, and friggin’ hot to boot.

I felt like crudolla afterward.  My heart was racing, my body was sweating in places like my hands, that don’t usually sweat.  I couldn’t breathe very well.  And I still have cotton mouth two days later.

Dehydrated?  Maybe.  Out to fast?  Definitely.

But then I got to spend the next two days bordering panic.  Taking Xanax plus my daily anxiety meds trying to give my body and brain a break.  I begin to panic, when I think I might have a panic attack.

Nice huh.

Am I aloud to cry? To yell and scream and kick things and be SO angry and resentful and cuss like a fucking sailor and  be pissed and cranky and just SO sad?  Because this is my life?  Because I don’t know if it will ever end?  Because who wants to live like this?  Because who wants to live a life not full of fun and interesting new experiences cause they might have a panic attack if they try something new?

Because I have to play it safe.  Because I need to plan ahead.  Because I need to have meds on hand just in case.  Because I need to eat healthy all the time.  I can’t take breaks.  I will need to remain in my comfort zone.  I will need to take it easy.  I will need to be diligent.

And people who don’t experience this ever, won’t understand.

And I will wonder, “Why me?”

And I will wish it was different.

And I get it.  There are lots of people around the world wondering everyday, “Why me?” about a gazillion different scenarios in their lives.

But today this is what I feel.

Today this is what I fear.

Today this sucks.

Spill it: Are there any things in your life you deal with on a daily basis that people around you don’t understand?  Is there anything you wish were different in your life right now?

Posted August 24th, 2010 under Anxiety Stinks. Tags: anxiety, Living With Anxiety
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