Wednesday, September 22, 2010

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. 


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.


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.


  1. Yeah. I had to go on the pill to control the horror-movie-ish periods. Sorry! You probably didn't want to know that.

    Would the cats really start chowing on you in one afternoon?! Bastards.

  2. See, KathyR, that's the thing. I KNOW that this happens to women and it's normal[ish] but I feel like I'm going to die when it happens to me.

    Also, one of the cats is a big fat eater, and I wouldn't put it past her to take a nibble or two.

  3. I think it might be time to get a guard cat.

    You know, so he'll watch the other cats and make sure they wait before dining on you.

    Or you could try not to collapse at home.

    Either way really.

  4. Megan - Hmm . . . a guard cat? Perhaps. Not collapsing? Much better.

  5. I heart you so hard. I can be the same way with certain things.

  6. Andygirl - THANKS! I heart you, too. And I'm glad I'm not alone.

  7. Oh, I'm glad it turned out to be just one of those flukes. I try to forget about my bouts of panic. I stopped taking women's magazines because they had me believing every difference in my cycle was a life threatening disease.

    And I'm sure my cats would chew on me if I died before their 5:00pm canned food. Or possibly pee on me out of spite. And then try to cover me with litter.

  8. Renee - oh, those magazines are THE WORST for making me crazy. Also, HAHAHAHA . . . peeing out of spite and covering you with litter - that is genius.

  9. And do NOT look up anything on the interweb. It will tell you you're dying a horrible, slow death which will cause you to lose all mental faculty whilst shitting your least that's what it always tells me when I look up something. So now I just chalk everything up to a brain tumor. Perhaps, it was a small brain tumor?
    Or maybe this ridiculousness that I'm writing is the result of a brain tumor? Oh god now I'm repeating myself...definitely a brain tumor...slow in the driveway...only on Saturdays...Judge Wapner....

  10. Tonya, I know, but the interweb, it sucks me in. And then I, like you, find myself suffering from every known malady. I'm kind of pissed when I raise these issues with my doctor and she dismisses them. I mean, there are PAGES AND PAGES of people talking about crazy side effects![Nice Rain Man!]

  11. fear is akin to a thief, robbing us of our sanity. just breathe. that helps me through those horrid moments of anxiety (when i'm holding my breath, trying to force a solution).

  12. Simone - I like that. It's so hard to remember to breathe. Like I don't have time to do so.


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