Panic in Detroit

I know I joke a bit about the panic and anxiety I have.  I joke a lot, on my blog, actually.  I don't mention it much at all in real life.  Very few people know the extent of my panic and anxiety.  I like to keep it that way, even if it seems as if I come off aloof or unfriendly.  Better to be feared than loved, right?

Except, it gets to be so exhausting.  Particularly when, say, you wake up in the morning and are immediately in panic mode. 

TMI ALERT TMI ALERT:

Like, say, you go to the bathroom and you find that you are bleeding.  Down there.  But you JUST had your period.  And you remember reading, at some point, that one of your meds may mess with your period.  And then  you also think about peri-menopause, and wonder if you are that old.  And then you remember hearing about people women who end up gushing from their nether regions during menopause and you start to lose. your. fucking. shit.

END TMI - THIS MAY BE SAFE TO READ:

And then you try and calm down and just go about your day, but there you are, emptying the dishwasher, panic hovering just below your hilariously calm facade, trying to practice deep breathing, wondering who to call [Mom? At work. Plus, she doesn't know the extent of my panic. Could I calmly explain this?  Husband? Also at work, and he gets panic calls all the time.  Dr.? Hard to get through to her.  Pharmacist? Which one? I CAN'T MAKE A DECISION RIGHT NOW], wondering if you are, in fact hemmhoraging, if the dizziness is panic or blood loss, afraid to back to the bathroom, afraid to look down for fear of seeing Carrie-type decorations on your legs,

Nobody wants to see this on their own person. But, how cute is Sissy Spacek?  I love her.  Not the time or place?  Yeah, you're probably right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

concerned that I'll pass out and not be able to reach the phone and my poor child will come home and find me dead dead dead with the cats eating me.

So, I finally make myself go to the bathroom again [not that it's hard physically, because god knows, I ALWAYS have to go] and, guess what?  NOTHING IS WRONG.  Yeah.  Just an aberration. 

So that's been my morning.  I'm ready for bed.