Tuesday, June 15, 2010

This Post Is Kind Of Serious. I Threw In Some Swears To Make It Up To You.

I’ve got anxiety issues. I’m a bit high-strung. I tend to worry a great deal. I have trouble turning my brain off. I suffer from frequent heartburn. I often have a difficult time falling asleep at night. Sometimes I have small panic attacks.

Okay fine. I lose my shit on a daily basis, people. Fine, I said it. Are you happy? Yeah, of course you are. Assholes.

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. You aren’t assholes. You are nice people, who will probably leave me encouraging comments like “Hang in there!” and “Maybe you should visit your doctor?” and “Your mom” (Kurt).

It’s just that, well, I feel like I might be reaching my breaking point emotionally. What’s funny is that people who don’t know me really well would never know I’m stressed out because I’m always pleasant and laughing. But the people who do know me really well? They see how fakey my smile is and that when I think no one is looking, I’m all frowny and crazy eyed. They can tell I’m not sleeping well because of the dark circles under said crazy eyes and how I mumble to myself and sigh a lot and generally look unwell.

I thought I was doing a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone besides Captain Carl. He has special insight into my soul and lady parts, so I can’t get anything past him. I gave up on that a few years ago. But I was pretty sure that most everyone else thought I was my old sunny self. Until graduation weekend, when all of my family and the Captain’s family descended on our house. I think I heard “Are you doing okay?” and “Are you feeling well?” and “You must be tired” about 50 times that day. Then my sister pulled me aside and was all “I went on antidepressants last month and I’ve never felt better.” and I was all “That’s awesome!” and she was all *pointed stare* and I was all “What?” and she was all “Never. Better.” and I was all “Oh, ummm…great?” and she was all “Seriously.” and I was all "...the fuck?" and she was all "You need meds, bish". And my parents were especially concerned. I picked up on that after my Dad gave me the “Try to find happiness in every day” speech twice in as many hours. And on their way out, my Mom slipped some money into my hand and whispered “Get yourself a pedi-mani or whatever they call it and feel better, honey.”

Well, shit.

They are all right. I AM tired. I’m NOT feeling well. And some days, I’m definitely NOT okay. (not every day though…I really do have a lot of good days. But this post isn’t about that. It’s about me whining and feeling sorry for myself, so shut up.)

The thing is, I’m afraid to go to the doctor. It’s overwhelming to even think about schedule an appointment to ask what I should do about my totally whacked out anxiety and inability to just chill the fuck out. And yes, I know that overwhelmed feeling is reason enough to do it. Gah, I’m a mess.

But here’s the good thing. My husband, bless his squishy sweet heart, never tires of trying to help me. He hates that I'm always stressed out. He hates that I have nightmares much too often. He hates that I come home from work and immediately start cleaning the house. I don’t even change out of my work clothes some days because my anxiety level is so high that I don’t want to stop moving moving moving, even though I’m exhausted. I’m in the kitchen, wiping counters and throwing out junk mail and cleaning out the vegetable drawer in my heels. Sometimes I even forget to take my purse of my shoulder before I start. For reals. Crazy, right? And yet, the Captain sticks with it and every day tells me to “Sit your ass down and relax, damn it”. Some days it works, some days not so much.

I think he could sense after graduation that I was making a beeline towards crazytown. So last weekend, he piled me and my camera and my 5 pairs of yoga pants and my 12 pairs of flip flops into the car, drove me 4 hours away and plopped me down at a resort in the middle of nowhere. Our room was on the second floor of a building in the woods. We had to be transported to it via golf cart on gravel trails lit only by solar lights. Our view was leaves and tree trunks. There were rocking chairs on our deck and bug spray next to the cushy robes in our closet. There were no sounds except the wind and the birds. They left wine and chocolates on our bedside table. It was heaven.

This trip was technically a business venture for the Captain. He had meetings all day Saturday in the resort’s conference room, so I was left to my own devices. It was awesome. I spent the morning walking through the meadows on nature trails. I was the only person out there and I felt a million miles away from my life. I took pictures of butterflies and flowers. A deer popped up out of the tall grass no farther than 10 feet away from me, followed by her fawn. Fucking Bambi, ya’ll. The path eventually led me to a pond where dozens of dragonflies were swarming. I began to feel the anxiety and stress slowly loosen it’s grip on me and I began to relax. I sat down under a tree and cried for awhile, just because I wanted to. I even sang out loud. “Oh what a beautiful morning”. Best solo sung in a field by a crazy woman ever. I wish I had brought the wine with me. Then I went back to my room, showered, ate lunch and got a massage (hells to the yeah). Then I joined Captain Carl for drinks and dinner. I slept like a baby and had morning sex on Sunday.

I need to move to this place. Meds and therapy would not be necessary. All I need is a treehouse and a meadow filled with Disney animals and I’m all good. But alas, I had to come home last night. Back to a world filled with jobs and bills and dirty litter boxes and renters and teenage boys. You know…real life. I’m easing back in slowly today. I downloaded the entire soundtrack to Oklahoma and am currently humming along with “Surrey with a fringe on top” and envisioning Captain Carl as Curly. I do love a man in a cowboy hat.


Anonymous said...

What you need Miss Yvonne, is a place like that magical little meadow that you can escape to more frequently.

Or more morning sex.

I know which one the Captain would prefer.

(Morning sex in the meadow, yeah, that's it!)

Jocelyn said...

10mg of Lexapro for 6 months and a re-visit to the Fly Lady did me a world of AWESOME. I highly recommend it.

And Fly Lady only asks that you clean in 15 minute increments. SWEET!

Didactic Pirate said...

If only there was a way to fold up that meadow into a little baggie and carry it around with you so you could use it whenever the anxiety climbs into the red zone. Oh wait, there is -- it's called Zoloft. Use with my blessing.

Beta Dad said...

Meds! Meds! Meds! (Unless you can swing retirement to a quiet house in a peaceful meadow.) Having had absolutely no first-hand experience with this kind of thing, I am somehow convinced that the right chemicals can take that edge off and allow you to unwind. Or not get wound up in the first place. Oh how I wish my sister would heed this advice.

Little Ms Blogger said...

I've been where you are and still visit frequently.

I've done therapy, meds (which I'm thinking of going on again) and embrace meditation 1000%.

I know what it is like to not sleep, have money and wonder if you even remember how to smile.

Everyone is different and maybe you figured out that walking and meditating are something that works for you. Be selfish for your sanity.

Kurt said...

I totally thought you were going to hump that deer. True Story.

Also, You rule.

Also also, Your mom.

Ed said...

All the best bloggers are crazy.

Welcome to the club.

I've been on Prozac 40mg for YEARS.

Just recently quit because it killed my sex drive.
True story. Totally knocked it down to twice a night. I was dying inside.

Now, I am alive, sexy, and postal.

Tristachio said...

You know what, it's OK to feel this way. It happens and it can happen to anyone but if you are even thinking that you need to see someone about this, you probably should Blogging-Mama! I think a real sign is the fact that the only thing made you not feel that way was by taking yourself 4 hours away from it all.

As coming from someone who grew up with a Bi-polar mother, you owe it to yourself, The Captian and The Kiddo to make sure it isn't anything more and that it can be managed so you can keep your sanity.

Well, most of your sanity. We want you alittle bit insane because your blog wouldn't be the same without it because the moment you go all "I joined a knitting club, i's nice and the old ladies I knit with give me ice tea and we talk about clouds" I'll be the first to stab you in the god damn eye so you have something to bitch about.

(Ps: My word verification is Loonee so I'm pretty sure even blogger thinks your crazy!)

Moooooog35 said...

Good luck to you.

And a parting tip: Whenever I feel stressed or overwhelmed or depressed I take it out completely and irrationally on random children in Target.

You will not be allowed to go there ever again..but luckily, there are Targets EVERYWHERE.

You're welcome.

The mad woman behind the blog said...

Yup, sex and the outdoors is my cure-all as well.
But if you start humping Bambis I'm going to get worried about you.
On second thought, you,a strap-on and wildlife does paint a funny picture. Would you be wearing your heels?

BTW, you were getting MY panties in a bunch with your anxiety and stressed out behavior.

Anonymous said...

I'm sitting here trying to think of a positive, nice comment and there in my inbox is YOU! That's twice that's happened to me today. Creepy.

Anyway, yes, I know these feelings you speak of and I hope the little bastards disintegrate. I did indulge in some happy pills for a short while a few years ago when I was in a particularly low point and they actually helped a lot. I was amazed. I mean they didn't make me ecstatic or anything, but I didn't get in a funk either and could cope a lot easier. So you know, if things get REALLY bad, don't be a pussy, get some pills, it's why they exist. They won't kill you. Well...not unless you take them all at once. Don't do that.

Good luck!

One Blonde Girl said...

I hope you feel better soon. It's great that you have such a supportive and observant family. As one experienced with the meds, I recommend you proceed with caution. Although, by the sounds of it, it seems they work for some people. I guess just not me (although I gotta be honest, I've thought about giving them another go at times). Take care of yourself! I recommend picking daisies.

Writing Womb said...

I feel like too often as well and decided to 'retire' in the jungles of Thailand cause it's freaking amazing here and i have no responsibilities...but the thing is, all those distractions kept me from thinking about all the things inside of me that actually are causing all of the stress...and now 6 months has gone by and i feel like if i spend one more fucking minute in this perfect paradise i am gonna shoot me a butterfly and murder lizards and bunnies...it's weird, now that i have no place to channel my rage (no traffic jams or stupid people making me wait in line at the grocery store) it's like i actually have to deal with all this bottled up shit i have been carrying with me for so many years...yuck...now i am longing for traffic jams and stupid assed people that make me wait in line at the grocery store...it's sad to say, but that's the truth of it!
I think it's great that you got away and just remember we always want what we don't have...a life without any drama is truly fucking boring!!!! and all i can see is the futility of everything and the pointlessness of everything when i don't have the hustle and bustle of living in a city ...of the day to day life stuff!
this comment probably made no sense and probably didn't help at all...but whatever, i already wrote it...

Writing Womb said...

um let's try that again...what i meant to say in my last comment was that the day to day shit of life is what keeps us going! it may not feel like it sometimes, but truly, speaking from experience, this is the stuff that life is made of...working, bills, cleaning, it all helps to give us some incentive to keep going...gives us a point to see what tomorrow will bring, so what i was trying to say was take all the stuff you feel is shit and bless it, be grateful for it, cause it's what keeps you going and gives you purpose, even if that purpose is just to bitch about it :o)
there, that feels better!

♫ Songbird ♫ said...

Smoke a doobie, woman. I'm tellin you it will work wonders for the anxiety and the sleep problems...although I can't recommend it for weight loss. Munchies are a bitch.

But honestly speaking, I suffer from severe anxiety as well... I've tried every medication there is, and I hate the way they make me feel. I just try to live my life as positively as I can, and surround myself with things I love. And make fun of the things I don't. Some days are harder than others, (I have wicked panic attacks too) but I just try to outweight the bad with the good. I hope you feel better <:o) -yeah, that's a clown smiley with a big nose. His name is Paul and he's fucking awesome. Way better than those other gay boring smileys.

kate said...

I love it when a good man has special insight into my soul and lady parts.

I know people who have done meds and it's worked wonders and I know people who have tried them and hated them. Have you considered just going to talk to someone once or twice a week? I saw a therapist a couple of times in college during a particularly rough/crazy-time patch and it really worked wonders. I never had to go onto medication - the act of just talking to someone and sorting out my thoughts with a completely impartial party was a huge help.

Heather said...

Oh I so recommend a trip up to Turner Falls in Davis, OK just North of the Oklahoma border off of I35. Cheap cabin rentals and just wonderful scenery! I would even come sip margaritas with you after I'm done carrying this baby and all ya know.

Stephanie Meade Gresham said...

A few things...
1. Can you please just get to that breaking point for me so I know what exactly happens when one "breaks"? I've been on the verge for about a year now and I'm dying to know if it's worth getting it over with.
2. Come over to my place after work tomorrow and start in my bathroom. The sink got stopped up this morning and there's whiskers and shaving cream residue all the eff over.
3. I hear drugs are a completely acceptable substitute for meadows and dragonfly ponds as long as they're prescribed by a physician.
But you have to get to the doctor to find out. And tell me about it when you get back because I'm waiting for news.
ps- it might help your cause if you sing the doctor a song. so he knows what he's dealing with.

Stephanie Meade Gresham said...

also: i first read "a deer pooped up out of the tall grass" and was like SCOREEEE.

popping up is fine, too. whatever. i'm sure it pooped when it heard you singin.

Veronica Marcetti Dimick said...

I hear ya Mama. That shit really messes with your head like none other. And it is like those stupid stroke commercials where people are walking around with bear traps on their legs and arrows in their shoulders and everyone is like "GO TO A DOCTOR" and they're like Nah.

And that is the cruelest part, because you are asking someone with severe anxiety to do something that makes them ANXIOUS. Not bloody likely.

I have been on and off meds for years, and the only reason I ever go off is because I am too afraid to go to the doctor and get a refill.

If a prescription is right for you, you will definitely learn to sleep again, and you will feel happy more than just some of the time.

Thanks for talking about an issue that a lot of us deal with. :)

Sarah P said...

I can't believe you were relaxed enough to sing show tunes in a meadow while Renty was doing Godknowswhat on your pillow ... or maybe in your undies drawer ... or, like, in the Velveeta.

I have anxiety, too, so it's OK that I make fun of you. It's like being a minority, only without all the people who don't give you jobs because of your race and the other racist things that happen. I can make fun of you and you can't get offended, is my point.

I'm medicated, though, so maybe you can get offended. I don't know. There are probably rules about it.

Anyway, I blog because a therapist recommended I do so. I don't think he had in mind what I do, though.

But, fuck him. Blogging is cheaper.

P.S. Check your vag for deer ticks. I saw a "House" about it once.

mossum said...

Here's a thought: maybe there's nothing wrong with you and it's the world around you what needs a good druggin'.

Once I had migraines and panic attacks so bad and they couldn't figure out why all I could do was lay on the floor and quiver and barf and moan, and they were just about to do exploratory brain surgery on me (yeah, that was a million years ago) but before my surgery date rolled around I dumped my shitty boyfriend and kicked out my shitty roommate and ~viola!~ I was miraculously cured.

I'm not sayin' don't do the drugs if you want to. But sometimes it's your world that needs to be adjusted, not your head.

Either way - and I think I speak for all of us here - big, wet, creepy smooches to you.

Logical Libby said...

My husband and I have a rule: only one of us can be crazy at a time. I think it's lovely that Captain Carl supports you through yours.

Also, you don't have to do meds. Pick up a book called "What Your Doctor Isn't Telling You About Pre-Menopause," and then forget I was the one who told you about it. It will help -- and I still want to seem cool.

VM Sehy Photography said...

That was sweet of the Captain to take you on the trip. It's always nice to have a husband who has a clue.

I had a psych teacher once who asked the class to write down everything they worried about in a year. Then when the year was up, go through and cross out everything that did't matter. I was left with two things. A boyfriend I'd dumped. Well, he was gone so that got crossed off. And a bank account that the darn bank wouldn't let me close. That got settled, too. That helped me realize that most stuff isn't worth worrying about. Thought I'd pass it along in case you wanted to try it.

Char said...

Sounds wonderful....except for the morning sex part. I remember hearing one of my mom's friends say: "I'd rather have turnip greens for breakfast than have sex in the morning." (that's kinda how I feel about it, too.)


otherworldlyone said...

Capt Carl is awesome. I'm glad you got a weekend of rest and relaxation and I hope you find something (whether it be meds, meditation, whatever) that works for you. Like the others have said, everyone is different.

DevilsHeaven said...

Stress is a killer. Ask any medical person and they will tell you. Hence my wandering into a Yoga class, which didn't help because the instructor made me stabby, and next, Tia Chi. I know how you feel, I lay awake nights thinking about shit that will never happen. Full on CONVERSATION in my head, sometimes with people I don't even interact with anymore. My friend with her fancy social work PhD told me I'm boarder OCD. That freaked me the hell out. So I'm trying to do things that will destress me. I think drugs should be your last resort. Even if they are fun to take! Lord knows I bum them off my mom as per need!!!

The Yak said...

The best thing I ever did was just saying yes to Prozac. The reason that depression (with or without anxiety) is such a bitch is that one of the main symptoms is you don't realize the scope of the problem, that you need help, and that it's in all likelihood a chemical imbalance and not You Being a Loser. If you find meds morally and aesthetically repugnant, try meditation and relaxation in a serious way (CDs, a hypnotist, etc.). Do whatever it takes -- you don't deserve to suffer. A lot of people I could name do, but not you.

Anonymous said...

I've done the meds thing. I sometimes wonder if I need to go back on.....

They DO help.

Joanna Jenkins said...

High Five to Captain Carl for your wonderful escape. And same to you for this brave post. So while you're still singing to Oklahoma, please pick up the phone and call your OB/GYN or Internist and ask for a therapist/psychiatrist referral who can prescribe medication. (I'm not a fan of OB/GYNs giving out these meds.) They'll be able to help you catch your breath, sleep and feel better. I've been on and off meds for years and so are many of my friends. Life is tough sometimes and a little help is perfectly fine. I know you can do it. Go, now.... go, go, goooooOklahoma....


Houston said...

Ms. Yvonne,

Please check your Yahoo mail. I sent you dirty pictures to cheer you up.

Harry Connick Jr.

Megs said...

I, too, have anxiety issues coupled with obsessive compulsive disorder, and sometimes I am so very, very fun. My husband calls it "Springs in the Ass Syndrome" because I can't sit for more than 5 seconds without popping up to do 4 or 5 very important things, like clean window frames with a toothbrush. Sex is actually a great cure except for the fact that OMG DON"T TOUCH ME I can't stand it. Plus, to be double extra fun, I hate pretty much all of the meds I've been given for it.

Valerian root is helpful, though. Just...you know...you aren't alone.

She Said said...

Yup. Meds for me too. They don't make me feel skippy happy and shit; they simply make me feel NORMAL.


just making my way said...

I have been wanting to put up a post like this for some time now. I'm all kinds of looped up in my head, and trying to convince myself to just make a damn appt with a therapist already. I kind of like your cure though, tree-houses and wildlife and morning sex sounds like heaven!

Chris said...

WOW, I could have written this post.

Meds meds meds.

Don't wait, talk to your dr about your feelings now. Your dr can help with everything. Even if you don't believe me, go to the dr for this one reason alone.

A good trip to the doctor is always good fodder for some interesting blog posts!!

Chris (I'm originally from the DFW metroplex and I can "hear" your accent in your typing)


Chris said...

oops, one more thing. I have to say that what SHE SAID was very true. Most meds do not make you "skippy happy". Most just return you brain chemical imbalance back to a steady level.

Can I also say that I did not need to go to a psychiatrist, therapist, voodoo dr etc. My family doctor knows me best and I always look to her before anyone else.

Lickety Splitter said...

I think I suffer from a the mildest sort of depression from time to time, but I try to kick it's ass six ways from Sunday most of the time. There are times when I suffer from PMS and I want to rip at least six heads off in one week, so I tried "Sarafem" or some nonsense like that for the PMS (only for other people's happiness and safety). Turns out Sarafem is just another name for Prozac and PMS suffers only take it two weeks out of the month. All those pills did for me was make me want to rip six more heads off, so I stopped taking it after one week and resorted to exercise which seems to help just as much.

Good luck finding whatever helps you beat your anxiety to a pulp!

la isla d'lisa said...

Just because you thought I was going to be all supportive and stuff and **REVERSE PSYCHOLOGY ATTACK!!**
I should BE so lucky as to have your problems. **STEREOTYPICAL JEWISH MOTHER-IN-LAW ATTACK!!**
AACK! (hairball on the floor) ever-so-loving-pet-cat-attack.
Oh, and feel better, because I desperately need your particular brand of crazy on my blogroll. **demanding reader attack**

SumSum said...

My DH has closed the drapes on my soul and lady parts...your swears causes me tears. i'm glad i'm not alone on this crazy train.