AWOL

People, people, people. I’m in a bit of a hole. My anxiety level has been creeping slowly upwards for weeks. I’m not sure how long ago the creeping began, but it’s been long enough that I’m starting to feel a wee bit fretful.

When I wake up in the morning I have a lump in my throat. A lump that makes it seem I’m trying to swallow something small and hard over.and.over.and.over. By noon my heart feels heavy. Like a slightly larger version of the stone lodged in my throat. By the time I leave the office some asshole buffoon seems intent on trying to squeeze blood out of the aforementioned stone.

When I get home, if I don’t have some really pressing to do’s to keep me occupied, I head straight for a glass of wine. More nights than not, I seem to have polished of an entire bottle before bed.

(Vis a vis of nothing there was an article in the paper this morning about a book featuring six steps to living like a cave man to rid oneself of depression. Nothing new or earth shattering about the list, and shit I already do every damn day, so please don’t send any “healthy living” tips my way kay?)

While I’m not full on panic attacky, I’m not having much fun. And feeling this way is ever so slowly starting to suck the joy out of my life. And people? It is summer damn it! I got through winter pretty much unscathed so this is odd for me.

All this is to say that while I have many thoughts swirling though my head and many stories I’d like to capture here I think my ability to do so has hidden away in my joy’s suitcase and skipped town.

Did your mother ever tell you?

If you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all? Yeah, mine too. Which is why it's a wee bit dark over here. And will remain so for the foreseeable future.

Sleepless in the suburbs

A little bit of background. I was a stay at home mom for 17 years. I loved it. I was good at it. But from the day Precious Oldest was born, something in my brain short circuited. I, who previously could sleep through anything (I will regale you with a few such stories at a later time) COULD NOT SLEEP. Even when the baby was sleeping through the night, I couldn’t manage to do the same. Insomnia is a terrible thing, an insidious thing. The numerous diagnosis and medications are best left for another post; sufficed to say there are periods of my life where going through the motions was the best I could do. There were also periods of my life when the beast was held at bay – sometimes for years at a time.

But as high school and college tuitions began to loom I felt that returning to the workforce was a good idea. Precious Youngest started high school and I found a job. Let’s just say the re-entry was not smooth. The job was not a good fit; I had a toxic co-worker and ended up with severe anxiety issues which led to the worst insomnia I’d experienced yet. Week after week - night after night - two to three hours of sleep. There is a reason sleep deprivation is used as an instrument of torture people! My now poor health coupled with the unpleasant job situation forced me to turn in my resignation after only six months. I felt like an utter failure.

I took about four months off to regroup and get well. I found another job, and thought all was under control. I was wrong. Last winter the beast was back with a vengeance. Shrinks, meds, therapy, hell I even tried acupuncture. December through March is a blur. I managed to go to the office every day, but was so emotionally drained by putting up that front that there was nothing left for my family. Slowly as spring came sleep started to return. The last few months have been pretty great. By July I was feeling like myself again.

Yesterday I woke up at 3:30 and couldn’t fall back asleep. My alarm goes off at 5:30 during the week, so at 5:00 I just got up and figured I could suck it for a day. I figured last night that I’d sleep well because I was so tired. I tossed and turned and fell asleep about 11:30. Only to wake up at 1:25. FUCK. I can’t do this again. Seriously.