Anxiety is funny

Anxiety is funny.

Don’t get me wrong. Mental health is not a laughing matter. There is nothing to joke about when it comes to a mental illness.

What I mean is.

Sunday…

I was having a good day. We get those. They come like a ray of light just before a storm.

That’s why anxiety is a funny thing.

I was having a great day. We got the closet that was full of good will stuff cleaned out and taken to good will. We got the rest of the mulch that was here before we moved in cleared and I gave it to a family member who needed it but didn’t have the funds to get any. I went and got soil and flowers to put a flower bed in. Now my front yard looks amazing. We got so much done.

But as I am driving back to the store to pick up a few last minute things. I started thinking.

……

I’m having a good day.

My anxiety is chill today.

….

And thats when the storm hit.

While I was at the store my husband text and said our youngest was throwing up. Great! just great.

So I hurry home and my oldest is throwing up.

Then my brain, while trying to take care of two sick kids, starts to think about finances. How much money did I really spend today? How am I going to replace that? I really need to find a job from home. I need to clean the carpet. How am I gonna clean the carpet and make sure that they’re not choking on their vomit. Needless to say, my hubsand ended up sleeping on the couch with the yougest making sure she didn’t throw up laying on her back and I slept half on a twin mattress with my oldest making sure the same thing. My oldest loves to sleep on her back so every time she rolled onto her back I was wide awake.

and it never fails. Whenever I am having a good day. My brain automatically goes into the where’s the anxiety? Why aren’t we stressing? Why aren’t we anxious? Which then turns into an anxiety mode.

Anxiety, my anxiety, is a funny thing. But having a mental illness isn’t fun, funny or a laughing matter.

……

Just another day in the life of ThisAnxiousMom.

One, Twenty one guns…

Okay, so last week, my cousin passed away after a long almost two year battle of cancer. He was in his 80’s so he lived a long life and I was able to see him a week before he passed. Therefore, I was able to say my goodbyes.

That’s the thing with me. I am overly emotional. Especially with death. Whenever someone I know or love passes….my anxiety grows high. Especially when I think about living without those closest to me or what if I died? It freaks me out. Who will look out for my girls? How will they go on? I become so depressed, I just cry for hours.

If I don’t get to say goodbye or the death is sudden or unexpected…. It hits my anxiety and emotional side harder. So being able to say my peace allows me to be prepared.

With my cousin, I was prepared. I was able to come to peace with it. I know he is no longer hurting.

So it was time for the funeral.

And I really wanted to be there for my cousin. The cousin that passed was my cousin thru marriage. His wife is a distant cousin but I grew up with her around a lot. So they’re close family to me. Now she’s 80 something years old and she just lost her husband of sixty somthing years. We all just wanted to be there to show our love and support for her because this is hard. Her husband took care of her from day one. She never wanted for anything.

Now….what I didn’t know was that my cousin was in the military. As I knew him, all he talked about was fishing. So the military history, I had no clue about. Which I think is very cool and very honerable.

However, with this knowledge being new to me at the funeral.

…..

I was not prepared for the gun salute that every military veteran gets.

….

I had gotten thru the entire funeral and I was good.

…..

Until the salute.

They opened the church doors and bang bang bang.

There went the guns.

Then came the folding of the flag and the song they play on the trumpet.

So now I am tearing up.

………..

Why?

……..

It’s a mix of emotions and anxiety.

The guns were loud and shocking and anxiety is like the fight or flight feeling you get. But it never leaves.

….

So this salute, which is a means of respect, started my anxiety of the day.

I mean I was already anxious about going to the funeral but I was even more anxious after.

It also didn’t help that I had to drive home in the worst thunderstorm that we have had in a while with a tornado watch in effect. The rain was so much and so hard that I couldn’t see the road anymore and had to pull over to wait it out.

And unfortunately, the anxiety feeling kept up for the next 4 hours.

Momma Bear is ready to bite

So as you guys know. We’re having a lot of issues with our in laws.

Now let me clarify, its my father in law and his wife. Not my husband’s mom. It is his step mom and he doesn’t even classify her as such.

Okay so…..

Here we go

….

So over the weekend. the step mom decided recently to steal one of my photos of my facebook page and post it as if she took it herself.

So we asked her to take it down. She said why. We said we didn’t give you permission to use it. So out of spite…she reposted it. Childish right.

So the caption was ‘my beautiful grandkids’ so we kindly pointed out that they’re not even her grandkids.

Since I seen that we wouldn’t get thru to her at all I texted my FIL and said she didn’t have any permission to use any of the photos that we took. His response was since it was on a public profile (my facebook is private and the only way she could see it was because she is on my friends list) and that even child molesters could take the photo and use it as they wish. (so is he equating his wife to a child molester???)

He then went on to say he doesn’t understand why we are treating them so bad. Even tho I have explained the favortism thing multiple times.

I never told our daughter about our argument so she didn’t know anything about the favortism. However, not too long after the argument…she came up to me and said that she knows she is her grandpas favorite because he does everything with her and nothing with her sister. So when a child can tell you that they know they’re the favorite….the favoritism is there!

So I explained to my FIL that. And he proceeded to say he never said he had favorites that its just something my kid made up. he then went on to say he didn’t understand why we were treating them like criminals over something a child had said.

So now he’s blaming all of this on my kid…. A kid he’s throwing a fit about not seeing.

Uhm….in comes momma bear.

I kindly told him to stop playing the victim.

He then informed me that he has printed all of our correspondants and will show them to my grils when they get older to show them how wrong me and my husband are.

What I got from that…

…..

Is that they’re going to deliberately try to poison our kids against us because we called them on their bullshit and they started throwing tantrums.

This all started because my FIL would try to make plans the day of or even hours before to see the girls. My oldest goes places. She goes to my moms. She goes to her other grandma’s. She goes to my brothers. She has school functions. I have changed or postponed many of the other family events to accomendate them.

Now if he would try to come when my oldest was already gone, I would say okay but the oldest isn’t here only the baby. Numerous times he has cancelled his visits because it was only the baby (toddler)

Where is that fair?

There is a five year difference between my kids. My oldest got all the attention for five years. So how come the baby doesn’t get alone attention as well? When I called my FIL out on this the first time… he blamed me. I don’t offer to let him take her. I don’t offer to bring her to his house. I don’t stop whatever I am doing to make sure that he spends equal amount of time with both of his grandkids.

Since they’re being kids…and reacting in such a way. My anxiety is on high alert to the point of being prepared. I am prepared for them to react. I am prepared for them to put up a fight and I know they will.

Don’t poke a momma bear by messing with her cubs. You might not like the bite.

……………..

So what are your thoughts??

Somethings Just Stay With You

Okay, so. You really know you’re living in the country when you see wild Turkeys.

Right?

So, normal people…if they hit a wild animal…it’s a deer. Its a skunk. Its an opossum (I think that’s how it spelled)

What you don’t think of when someone hits a wild animal is….

…..

A Turkey.

But I guess I am not normal.

Because that is exactly what I did.

I was heading to the school for the afternoon pickup line.

I was driving like normal.

I seen a wild turkey in the lawn opposite of my lane. This isn’t the first time that I’ve seen them.

So I thought ‘there’s no way that this turkey would run into the road, in front of my car, by the time that I passed by.

….

Well, I was horrifically wrong.

Because this turkey

……

Starts running at road runner speed and gets in front of my car.

I’m slamming on the breaks.

Glad no one is behind me to rear end me

….

But I didn’t stop in time.

Because the turky jumps.

hitting my windshield

rolling across my roof.

…..

I mean, I literally knocked the crap out of this turkey.

Because there is this huge bird crap spot on my roof.

It then hits the grown and scampers off into the woods.

…..

My nerves are SHOT.

I’m panicking.

Literally

Freaking out.

How did I hit a turkey?!?!?!

But I did.

………

Now, my mistake.

…….

was telling my family.

…….

Because everyone is reminding me of it all week.

Now I know it will die down. Soon. Hopefully.

Until Thanksgiving comes around. Then they will bring it back up since I cook Turkey every year.

So….

Somethings…. You will never live down.

#Lyrics Beam Me Up-Pink

There’s a whole other conversation going on
In a parallel universe
Where nothing breaks and nothing hurts
There’s a waltz playing frozen in time
Blades of grass on tiny bare feet
I look at you and you’re looking at me
Could you beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
Probably just stare, happy just to be there holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I’m tired of being a fighter, I think,
A minute’s enough,
Just beam me up.
Some black birds soaring in the sky,
Barely a breath like our one last sight
Tell me that was you, saying goodbye,
There are times I feel the shivering cold,
It only happens when I’m on my own,
That’s how you tell me, I’m not alone
Could you beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
I’d Probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I’m tired of being a fighter, I think,
A minute’s enough,
Just beam me up.
In my head, I see your baby blues
I hear your voice and I, I break in two and now there’s
One of me, with you
So when I need you can I send you a sign
I’ll burn a candle and turn off the lights
I’ll pick a star and watch you shine
Just beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
Probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I’m tired of being a fighter, I think,
A minute’s enough,
Beam me up
Beam me up
Beam me up
Could you beam me up
The loss of a love one.. Pink said it was very personal.
But it’s personal for me too.
Except for the part about the baby blue eyes.
Everyone that I would want to visit in Heaven has either brown or green eyes.
But I cannot help but sing this song.
I cannot help but cry during this song.
This is such a powerful emotional song that truly shows Pink at her most vulnerable form. This will always be on my Pink playlist.

Anxiety and Dreams

Okay, so as you guys know we’re currently having issues with my in laws.

and being a person with anxiety.

Makes me even more protective or more of a momma bear.

So, I need advice. Or maybe some comments. A discussion. From others outside of the situation to talk it thru.

The other night, I had this really bad dream. Having anxiety, I think, makes my dreams more vivid and more real. I wake up feeling like they’re real. That they’re going to happen. Like a premenition.

So this dream, I went to pick up the kids from school because I pick up my nephews as well. And the boys got in the car. But….my daughter was no where to be found. The principal came over and told me that she had been checked out earlier in the day by her grandfather, my father in law.

So I go over there to get her back…and he won’t give her back. He hides her away and runs. I think it comes from the fact that when my mom first left my dad….he kidnapped us and hid us in my great grandma’s basement. But it was going on and on and I was trying everything to get my kid back. And nothing was working. To the point that I was calling in help from people that I know are violent.

That was one dream.

Another dream the next day was my father in law showing up at my house when my husband wasn’t home. He pushed his way in to see the girls. And he wouldn’t leave. I tried everything and he just WOULDN’T leave. To the point that I was calling the cop and my FIL said that the cops wouldn’t do anything because he was family.

……

I woke up from both these dreams in a full on anxiety attack. These dreams have had me terrified.

So….I put some thought into it and I think I should go to the school and remove him from the list of picking up my daughter from school. I don’t want to ever feel like I did in my dreams.

So….what do you guys think?

Easier to build

Being a mom with anxiety, I tend to get anxious over a lot of things.

However, I am pretty good at keeping these things internal. But sometimes, they slip out into the open.

I’m going to be honest.

I am a mom that yells.

….

a lot!

It’s not like its something I want to do. I hate yelling and I hate repeating myself.

But it seems like my family doesn’t hear me until I start yelling. Which is usually after I have repeated the same thing more than five times.

Yelling doesn’t phase my youngest child…. AT ALL.

However, my oldest. That’s a different story.

You start yelling at her and she looks back at you with such hurt in her eyes.

Which causes the anxiety in me to triple.

Because it is easier to build a child up than it is to repair an adult.

That sentence hits home. Like a perfect hit at a baseball game.

Because, although my mom didn’t yell or didn’t say degrading things to me, my oldest brother did.

I remember I used to love bread. All kinds and forms. Garlic toast, peanut butter sandwhiches, butter toast. You name it. That was my go to snack as a kid.

Until every time I picked up a piece of a bread my brother would comment about how I was going to get FAT. EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Until I stopped eating bread.

Until I started thinking about my size.

Until I started damaging myself.

worrying about my weight.

Now it wasn’t all his fault.

My late grandmother, may she rest in peace, would tell me I was fat too. You see my grandmother on my dads side made rare appearances. Flaunting her money. She would take us school shopping, maybe once or twice in our life. The boys got to go off on their own and pick out two or three outfits that they wanted. I, however being little, had to shop with my grandmother. Of course we couldn’t get cheap clothes like Wal-Mart (I buy my clothes there a lot so I’m not bashing them) No…we had to go to a more expensive store. She would pick out the outfits for me to try on. And when they wouldn’t fit, she would tell me I was too big or needed to lose weight. By the time I was 10 I wasn’t even 70 pounds. I should also note that she would purposely pick out clothes that were smaller than the size I actually wore.

To this day I am picky about my weight. About the way I look. Which is why I am usually behind the camera instead of in front of it. This is the type of pain that is hard to repair as an adult. This is the type of mental issues I want to save my kids from.

So when my daughter looks back at me with those hurt in her eyes. I am afraid that maybe I am causing her the anguish that she will carry into adulthood. The type of anguish that will takes years to repair.

Now my child is in no way hurt. I also know that she knows turning those puppy dog eyes will usually get her sympathy and she won’t get in as much trouble.

How do I know this?

Because she is my child. I did the same thing to my mom every single time I got in trouble. Why? because my mom was a sucker for those tears and sad voice because I was the only girl. So I used it to my advantage.

However, the anxiety in me as a mom makes me question every possible thing.

Am I damaging my child?

Will she look back and only remember the yelling?

Will this cause many therapy sessions?

It is easier to build up a child than it is to repair an adult.

I am an adult who’s husband has been trying to repair her self image for almost a decade.

So, although I am a parent that yells….

I also tell my girls how beautiful they are.

How their eyes sparkle.

How their smile is infectious.

How sweet they are.

How smart they are.

Yes, I yell

But I also reward the good things.

I have popped my childs hand (I know there is a big debate on whoopings) I have never popped them hard enough to hurt them. It only hurts their feelings. I have put my kid in time out. I have taken toys away. I have yelled.

I have also cried. I have spent hours worrying if I am parenting the right way. But what is the right way? I have apologized. I have talked things out with my girls.

I am not set in my ways. I will try any way to parent my kids to become thriving adults. I don’t want them obsessing with money because money will not buy you happiness. It will buy you material things. But those things can be taken away in a heart beat.

I reward my kids with ice cream trips. With toys. With books (but I get new books periodically because I believe reading is important) I buy movies. I allow tv time. I reward with sleep overs.

I am trying to build my kids up so they won’t have to repair themselves as adults.