Pants: AG Stevie Ankle
Shoes: Minnetonka Mocassins
"Breathing out, hoping to breathe in. I know nothing's wrong, but I'm not convinced. I can let it happen, just let it happen. Just don't think so much, don't think so much." - Local Natives
As I stated in my last post, I've been dealing with a lot of anxiety this week. Nothing happened in particular to trigger it. I just woke up one morning and the world suddenly seemed dark and ominous and that feeling lingered for a few days. Mental illness really is some strange shit.
I wore this outfit the first day the anxiety started creeping up on me. It was cool, comfortable, and casual which was exactly what I needed. I had enough on my mind without worrying about what to wear. You see, that's really the worst thing about anxiety, all the random thoughts that go through your head. It's exhausting.
Yesterday, I became a woman obsessed with taxes. I got so stressed out and worked up over it, as if the world was going to end if I didn't figure out my taxes right then and there. Later that day, I found myself getting stressed out all over again while watching my son play basketball. I never thought I'd become one of those parents that acts the fool at their child's sporting events, but people be gettin' on my nerves last night. It was a close game, and the man next to me kept cheering on his grandson who was on the opposing team. Something about the way he did it just got to me. I whispered to Jerry that I really wanted to slap old Grandpa right upside his grey head. I felt horrible for thinking such things, but the anxiety, man, it was making me all kinds of irritable.
I guess it hasn't helped that I've gotten basically no sleep this week. My middle child has his own issues and had a couple of what I like to call "manic nights." Manic nights usually consists of him staying up all night doing all kinds of random shit. It's like he has some kind of internal motor that just won't quit. He physically cannot go to sleep until about 5am (even with Melatonin) and then he lays beside me twitching and vibrating until his motor eventually stops running and he drifts off to sleep.
Last night he laid in bed and watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles while eating cold chicken he had grabbed during a late night raid of the fridge. I had drifted off to sleep briefly and was suddenly awakened by a chicken bone being poked into my side. He wanted to know what "hero's in a half shell" meant. I grumbled that I hadn't the slightest idea. He then said his head hurt and he wanted some medicine. I reluctantly staggered into the kitchen, poured some children's ibuprofen into a spoon, and stuck it in his face. He looked at the spoon and said, "Does it have flavor?" I said, "Yes." He said, "What kind?" I sighed and picked up the bottled and read, "Berry Flavor." He sipped a little bit of it from the spoon, smiled, and said, "Hmm, I like berry flavor." He was so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 3AM IN THE FUCKING MORNING. He sounded like a commercial for cough syrup. It was so cute that I couldn't help but smile and give him a kiss. I probably shouldn't encourage him. I woke up this morning to chicken bones all over my bed. It was as if I had stumbled into some horrible monsters cave.
Anyway, all of this to say that we all have our issues. I analyze and overthink things to death sometimes, and it's a miserable way to be. However, the first step is recognizing it. When I feel the anxiety and the thoughts rising up, I try to take a deep breath and tell myself that things are not as bad as they seem. Even when the anxiety takes over, I just go with it. I don't try to fight it, because that makes things worse. It gives me hope to know that it will pass, and it always does. It may get the better of me sometimes, but it won't get the best of me.