Bonkers

The last 5 days have been almost unbearable. I honest to goodness and in all seriousness thought that maybe I was finally losing my mind for good.

There was this mounting sense of anxiety building up in me like an anaconda wrapping itself around my stomach.

Is this it?

Is this what going crazy feels like?

Thousands of deep cleansing breaths and the illegal downloading of about 12 different relaxation CDs later I still felt manic. But not in a good and exploitable way.

*Note – Lifescapes’ Inner Peace is a pretty great nap soundtrack but a lot of those relaxation CD’s are really annoying and anxiety inducing.

What’s wrong with me?

Let’s see… I have a job where I spend all day taking care of people who are all about them (and rightfully so – they’re all pregnant or living with newborn babies)

I come home exhausted to my naturally narcissistic adolescent daughters and everything that entails.

And my poor dog who is hemorrhaging for no apparent reason, which is stopping the vet from proceeding with the over $1500.00 (that I don’t have) surgery she needs to remove the giant mass that is obstructing her bowels.

My boyfriend is a DJ (’nuff said)

I am completely bankrupt. Emotionally, physically, financially.

Who is taking care of me?

The dog licks my toe. I recoil in repulsion.

That’s not what I meant.

But thanks Darla.

I can’t think straight.

I can’t sleep right.

I feel the panic attacks creeping back into my life and I growl menacingly at them.

No.

We’re not going back there.

Maybe I need exercise. Exercise is great for anxiety!

But I am exercising! I’m exercising almost every day!

Oh my god. I’m getting too much exercise. That must be it.
i should stop exercising and start eating french fries and onion rings every hour on the hour to slow down my metabolism and put my body and mind into a virtual coma – thus diminishing all excess energy and…

Okay. Let’s not go in with “what’s wrong with me”

Let’s try “What do I need?”

The knot loosens ever so slightly.

The muscles in my throat ease up a little.

I need:

1) A vacation
2) My dog not to be sick
3) My kids to get jobs
4) A productive creative outlet

Good.

How many of these things can I actively control?

Heart starts racing. Palms start sweating.

Shhhh…

The creative outlet one. I can control that one.

Good.

How?

Help me! I beg François.

He tells me to write a song about knocking on doors and use only the percussive sound of knocking on my guitar as accompaniment.

*crickets*

Help me!!

I agree to set small achievable creative goals. One a day. I have no idea what they will be or how I will calm down enough to focus on them.

In the meantime if I don’t answer the phone or the door for the next week. Don’t be alarmed. I’m in the studio knocking on my guitar.

I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I always land on my aching blistered feet.

Don’t get me wrong, donations in the form of wine, Lorazepam and/or gift certificates for the veterinary office on the corner will be embraced with enthusiasm and can be left on the front door step at any hour.



Jennifer June

By possible mood swings you mean feeling increasingly stabby right?

I thought that I would come home with this amazingly serene feeling, post-hospital epiphany in tow. After all, my life flashed before my eyes and what have you.

When I was still in, I lay playing with the controls of my foldy bed, thinking long and hard about what would happen if I just died, right now. What if I never get the chance to do all of the things I wanted to do? What if that was it?

*insert Peggy Lee singing – Is that all there is*

I’m not complaining. OK, maybe I am, but only a little. I’m happy to be home. I’m thankful I’m on the road to recovery. It could have been so much worse. I appreciate life in a whole new way and all that great stuff too! It’s just that I’m a bit surprised and maybe a tiny little bit disappointed that I’m not more…excited, rejuvenated or inspired or something.

I was sure I would come home and write a 6 foot long bucket list but so far “never leave the house with dirty laundry in the hamper” is the only task that has made it on there.

I was sure I would come home and take life by the balls but I’m still too tired to take the salad bowl off the fridge and put it up in the cupboard.

I was sure I would come home full of love and tenderness for absolutely everyone on earth but instead I feel intolerant and bitchy and occasionally overcome by the urge to stab somebody in the eye with a plastic fork.

I blame these steroids they have me on. They keep me in this walking coma and are starting to make me seriously doubt my sanity.

Some of the possible side effects include mood swings,anxiety, irritability, frequent urination, blurred vision, increased appetite and insomnia.

So, basically picture me half blind, sleep deprived (averaging 3 hours of sleep at night), paranoid, anxious, short-fused and starving, with the constant feeling of urgency nagging at my bladder.

I’m SO fun to hang out with!!

So Zen.

So full of love and tenderness.

Jennifer June