My neck, my back, my anxiety attack


That about sums things up.

Anxiety. It sucks.

I get it in the form of not being able to make decisions because my mind races back and forth and back and forth between the options until I become paralyzed. See this post for more detail on that.

I also get it in the form of thinking that I’m screwing everything up. And then I can’t stop focusing on that. I planned something, it didn’t go quite right, we don’t have enough time now, the world is going to end!!!! AND everyone hates me because of it. Tears will stream down my face during this completely insane spiral of thoughts. I most of the time can even recognize that this is crazy, but I can’t stop it.

It’s morning. I’m late for work. I’m looking for the shirt I want to wear. It can’t be found. I begin pacing back and forth and looking in the same spots over and over again. Anger and tears begin to bubble up. The WHOLE DAY will be RUINED if I can’t find this shirt. I can’t possibly wear anything else. I sit on the floor helpless against the emotions and thoughts tearing through my brain. I’m like a hormonal angst filled teenage girl but with more bills to pay and less energy. Why can’t I stop this??

But that’s the thing about anxiety. It’s completely illogical. You can’t stop it. You wish you could but you can’t.

And then of course, my pain all plays into the this anxiety as well. Will it ever go away? What if it doesn’t? How do I make it through the work day without losing it from the pain? Should I take this pill or that? This treatment or that? Does this one work better or that? Is it this one that is causing the awful side effects or that one? Or neither? And it goes on and on and on.

So yeah…anxiety…it sucks.




But I can get through it

Waving the white flag. Again. I do that a lot. On top of all of my pain, lately I’ve been getting bad headaches and nausea. Like right now…I really want to write something more clever, but I can’t focus on the screen. And I’m seriously thinking about bowing down to the porcelain queen. (I don’t think I’m sick though…maybe my fibro? May have to see the doctor soon) 

So I’m headed to the couch. And I’m going to try to remember the words of another slicer I just read: Today may be awful, but I can get through it.

Not sure how, but what other choice do you have?

It’s not fair

It’s not fair when doing fun things makes the pain so much worse.

It’s not fair that instead of being able to do fun things to take my mind off the pain, it compounds the pain exponentially.

It’s not fair that stinging muscles invade every memory making moment.

It’s not fair when misery fills every bone as I hold my precious daughter up to see this and to see that.

It’s not fair that my body is torn apart after simply spending quality time with my family.

It’s not fair that this ruthless and merciless abuse infects my evening.

It’s not fair that nothing, NOTHING soothes the unforgiving, unrelenting, searing ache.

It’s not fair.


Shopping Spree

There was another blog that wrote about using the fitting room with her daughters. I said that I hadn’t actually ever had either of my children try anything on in a fitting room. Then, the next day, where was I at? The Kohls fitting room with my 3.5 year old daughter trying on a million dresses and jammies. I thought of the blogger when we walked in the tiny room.

It was Saturday. I told Sarah earlier in the that we would clothes shopping just the two of us, right after nap. She grows anxious throughout the day, waiting for the time to go. “Is it time to go yet? Is it time now?” No, little one. Not yet. After nap. 4:00 p.m. rolls around, and she awakes from her sleep in her Disney princess bed, unable to contain her excitement.  She is the girliest girl I have ever met, so I knew this would be a memorable outing.

The second we arrive in the clothing department, it was free for all! “Mommy, I want this! Can I have this? This one is SO pretty!” Pure delight in every word and facial expression.  When we had half of the store’s inventory in my cart, we head to the fitting room. As she slips the first dress over her blonde curls, a half moon eyed smile creeps across her face…then…  “I want to see how it twirls! … It twirls really good!” Next on the agenda, fluffing her hair and admiring her beauty in the 3 mirrors. I say, “Hm, Sarah, you might be a little vain.” To which she answers, “No I’m not! I’m pretty! Do you think I’m pretty mommy?” LOL.

As each flowered dress, pink skirt, or polka dot night gown was modeled, her excitement grew to elation. She was in heaven. And the sparkle in her eyes as dress after dress goes in the “yes” pile was my heaven. These special trips are the fun part of being a mommy.

We finally finish and bring her treasures to the register. She carefully and methodically places the items on the counter, perhaps imagining herself as she dons each one of the new garbs.

We walk out of the store hand in little hand. It was a great day.

Foreshadowing summer through the senses

Bare feet on pavement.

The gritty feeling under my toes starts my mind running to summer.

I feel the sweating  bottle of something delicious chilling my hand.

I  smell the fire burning in our fire pit as my kids ask for one more marshmallow.

I hear the summer music as it floats through the air of our backyard, calming anything it touches.

I  see the pinks and purples of my flowers blowing softly on the breeze.

I taste the homemade honey BBQ as it drips from the fall-off-the-bone ribs we just finished on the grill.

These warm March days are a tease of what’s to come. But I’ll take it.

Just so I can put my bare feet on pavement.

A gift that could not have come at a better time

My principal has been working on a project for all of the staff members lately. He asked other staff members to give him two adjectives that described another staff member. He then, put all of the adjectives into a Wordle, framed it and presented it to that person at a morning meeting, one or two people at a time. He started it a couple of weeks ago and I’ve been anxiously awaiting my wordle!

Well, the other day was my day! It could not have come at a better time. I’ve had such a crappy couple of weeks, and this really lifted me up. But not only because it was a nice gift on a bad day, but because of the words. The words that people used to describe me. Not how I see myself, but how THEY see me. In a time when I often feel lost in the undertow of despair and anxiety, these are the words I need to see.

My favorites are Brave, Strong, Inspiring, and Awesome (I really want to know who wrote that one!). Organized…not so much, lol.

It’s on my desk at school, and I need to look at that all day long. And remind myself of all of those words. All of those things that people think I am. All of those qualities they see in me. And keep telling myself those things, over and over.

New Doc 2017-03-23

How baby wipes are saving my sanity. And my house.

Many of you may not approve of the following blog. If you are a clean freak or OCD, you might want to just step away from the computer/phone screen right now. I’m warning you. Don’t say I didn’t.

So, I have a really hard time keeping my house clean. It was a topic of a slice last year. Lately, I have really tried to get my act in gear. I rearranged where I put clothes (closet vs. dresser) and bought a clothes drying rack that hangs from the ceiling to keep things more organized in the laundry room. So far, I’ve kept up with all of that and it has gotten my clothes off my bedroom floor!

The kitchen…still needs some help, but it’s usually not too far gone. I’m not going to lie (clean fanatics, if you’re still with me…breathe), there are still many days that dishes are left piled in and spilling out of the sink for more than one day. But I feel like in general, we have gotten better.

Then there’s the master bathroom…maybe we shouldn’t talk about that. After all, even though I did walk into a wall the other day, I feel like I’ve maintained most of your respect this month. If I open myself up about my deepest darkest most hideous secret…you may never come back. Let’s just say…it’s awful. BUT, again, in our recent efforts to improve, my husband has been trying to figure out what’s best to clean the floor because it’s a really annoying kind of ceramic tile that isn’t smooth. It’s got a grain to it so everything sticks to it and then won’t come off! He’s made improvements on the cleaning process but being the engineer that he is, he presses on for a better solution. And then the counters…shudder…

Anyhoo, as I was “baby wipe” mopping my kitchen floor the other day, (We still have them around for cleaning up sticky hands and faces, even though both kids are potty trained) it suddenly dawned on me. These could be the answer to my cleaning woes! This could be the genius invention that keeps us from going over the edge from gross to really disgusting. What if I kept a box of wipes on the bathroom counter and could just grab and clean! What works for my kitchen floor (yes, I do actually mop sometimes too) is not too good for my bathroom counter!  Heck, why not the toilets too! Baby wipes for everyone! Counter, you get a wipe! Toilet, you get a wipe! Faucet, you get a wipe! Sink, you get a wipe! You all get a wipe!!

Cleaners, OCDers, and most normal human beings, here is some smelling salt. Fan yourself with my copy of Nasty Bathrooms Anonymous, the complete guide. (although, not so anonymous anymore…) You may think this is not the answer! You may think the baby wipes are not getting things clean enough! You may think, how can she live like this?! But you know what, not quite clean enough, is WAY better than vile beyond belief. At least, they are wet, and wipe stuff off. At least, it looks clean. And I promise, when I actually have guests come over, I’ll use something to really disinfect.

But baby wipes might have just saved my sanity. And my house. From me.

(In 2 minutes, I cleaned the kids toilets and counter. They are sparkling!)

Banging your head against a wall…literally.

It’s 4:15 a.m. My husband has been stirring in bed for a little while and finally gets up to sleep in the other room to try to avoid disturbing me. Too late. I’m awake. And what do I need to do anytime I have been woken up in the middle of the night? That’s right…pee! I linger in bed a while longer, hoping the need will pass. Of course it doesn’t. I grumble a bit as I fling back the covers that until then had been a warm, safe haven of snuggle. I stumble a bit as my feet hit the floor, but soon, I’ve remembered how this whole walking thing works. Or at least I thought.

I begin the voyage across the room and make the right turn into the bathro-SMACK!! What in the name of all that is good and holy??!! I stammer back a few steps and try to figure out what the HELL just happened. I squint (no glasses on as I thought my trip would be uneventful and not in need of clear vision) to look in front of me and see the frame of the bathroom door staring back at me. “i.just.ran.into.the.wall.” I think to myself. “How did I just run into the wall? Was I still asleep? Were my eyes open? Did the door move? Yes, that’s definitely it. The door totally moved.” As the pain sears through my skull, which took the brunt of the wall’s vicious attack, my bladder hasn’t gotten the memo that I’m practically knocked out and still needs to pee.

So I finish up, v.e.r.y. carefully walk back to bed, and once again reclaim my place under the blanket. Except now, my head throbs as I palpate my forehead, fully expecting a lump. Luckily, I don’t feel one and soon I drift back to sleep.

When I finally get up and tell my husband about my ordeal, he says…well THAT’S what that big noise was! He heard it all the way down the hall. I guess I have a hard head.

I might just wear a helmet to bed tonight.

Edited to add: oooww…now I have nilly feel a bruise. 😦



A silver lining

I’ve been having a rough go of it lately. Pain, work stress, more pain, hitting cars, insurance companies, home stress, did I mention pain?

After rear ending someone last week, my car is still at the shop…they haven’t even started working on it because the insurance adjuster hasn’t gone to see it even though they said they would yesterday. So I’ve been without my car since Monday. Monday and Tuesday didn’t matter since I was home from work because of a painful back procedure. But now I’d like my car back!

My husband drove me to work today. And a very kind coworker drove me home today and will for the rest of the week.

So in my effort to post something slightly less dismal than yesterday, my silver lining is that I am here at home. Alone. In quiet. With no kids. No husband. For likely 2 hours. And I will enjoy every bit of the it.

Cover the Pain

Pain to heal pain, what a cruel joke.

As I try more and more fixes, my hope goes up in smoke.

I can’t remember a day without pain,

Each day that goes by makes me feel more insane.

Exhausted from feeling this way my life long,

I’m so tired of having to pretend I’m so strong.

Others think I am fine and deal with it so well.

They don’t see the inside,  I’m in my own hell.

But I keep walking forward, through the feeling of drain.

I wake up each morning and cover the pain.