Powering Through

Let’s see if I can write yet another post about how I disappeared off the face of the Earth and then how sorry I am that I did that, and see if anyone reads it, shall we? Actually, let’s not. It sounds a bit depressing and extremely boring. Instead, let’s take a different approach—something I’m ripping off the Bloggess. I swear this will become clear in the second paragraph.

The first time I remember having a panic attack, I must have been around six. It was night, I was in bed, and I have the feeling my parents may have let me watch something with aliens on TV. I couldn’t fall asleep, and I felt nervous and sweaty, and then the next thing I knew, every sound in the universe was crashing loudly through my head and my heart felt like it was going to burst and my body felt like if I even attempted to move out of bed and get my mom, I would fly off the face of the planet.

Okay, I lied. Third paragraph. If we don’t count this one.

I’ve had anxiety forever, it seems. It took having a panic attack in the middle of the hall before the morning bell in high school for me to realize that I wasn’t actually going to die (that it was, after all, a panic attack—thanks to that wonderful English teacher who knows exactly who he is) because I never told anyone about it. After K was born, I ended up saying, “Screw this shit!”, and throughout my twenties, I spent a lot of time, energy, and effort kicking anxiety’s ass. I used every tool available to me: meds, therapy, behavior modification, you name it. And I did kick panic’s and anxiety’s asses. That doesn’t mean that sometimes they don’t come back to take another beating. So, I’ve developed a repertoire. I have some standard go-to ways to keep myself out of that anxious/panicky state of mind, and in my opinion, those ways are awesome.  One might even say they are some of my favorite things.

Hang in there, folks. I will get to the point someday…

That’s what’s been going on for me for the last several weeks. My grandfather’s passing, the stresses everyday life, being sick, some important changes J and I have been working on… all of these things added up and into some major anxiety. So, I ended up cutting back on a lot of things (like writing here, and writing at SI, and being on social media) to go back to basics: Get up. Wear clean clothes. Make sure to eat. Sleep. And do at least one damn thing each day that you enjoy—even if you don’t think you’ll enjoy it today. Do it.

That’s how I power through.

Now we’re there! The Bloggess recently had a list of her favorite things, and there were so many excellent ideas on that list that I thought it would be awesome to create a list of my own. These are the things I’ve done recently to pull myself out of a funk, but you don’t have to be in a funk to try them out. I just felt like sharing the love (as the Bloggess is one of my favorite things)…

You may love Doctor Who, or you may hate it (WHAT is wrong with you???), but even if you do love DW, have you watched Torchwood? Now, it’s not suitable for the kiddos, and frankly, the first two episodes left me feeling like I did after I watched “Rose” for the first time, but just like Doctor Who, Torchwood does get better (although, it’s not as good as DW—we all know that—but it’s an excellent Netflix diversion in the summer television doldrums).

Also, for my DW fans—do you follow Doctor Who and the TARDIS on Facebook? You totally should. That page is chock-full of memes and inside jokes and cool merch. I like that they repeat things about ten times, because I am the person who will miss something in their timeline the first nine times. Also? Sometimes a girl needs to geek out for a bit in the middle of the day, just to make herself feel better.

As for reading… I recently read The Astronaut Wives Club, and for non-fiction (Gah!), it was engrossing! I read that damn thing in one day. Also? This totally gives you a reason to go to the library. I didn’t know if I would really like this book, and I didn’t want to purchase it through iBooks, so I went the old-school route. And you know what? I missed the library. A lot.

Have you heard about the Missouri is Awesome campaign? No? Watch the video. And then, go and check out the 5 Pound Apparel  store, and hit up their Kickstarter. And start calling people you don’t know Terry, just to see what they do…

Finally, I re-found Cold Stone Creamery. I hadn’t been to one in, oh, a decade, even though I walk by one every day on my way to work. On the Fourth, we ended up going in, waiting in line, and eating massive quantities of ice cream and chocolate and peanut butter. I’ve come to realize that ice cream is not only a summertime staple, but a valued member of my ‘get-to-feeling-better’ program. We all need to eat more ice cream.

So now it’s your turn—Tell me, what makes you happy? What have you recently enjoyed? What pulls you out of a funk?

Adventures in Insomnia

We need something funny.  Or funny-ish.  Perhaps I’m tired of being sad for a bit. Perhaps I’m tired of the rainy, cloudy skies. Perhaps it’s the fact it’s always a bit of a bummer to return to work after a three day weekend. I’m not very good at speculating, but I do know we need to discuss something humorous.  What could possibly be more humorous than my insomnia?

Okay, I get it. Insomnia’s really not a joking matter. I’ve had it all my life, so while not an expert, I know as much as I ever would want to know about the affliction. That being said, the type of insomnia I’m experiencing now is not the normal, anxiety-induced, soul-crushing, cannot sleep for days on end type I typically experience. This is the type of insomnia that occurs when you spent a solid two months messing up your sleep schedule. Royally. So, there is SOME sleep involved. Let me explain:

I am no longer capable of sleeping in a bed. I toss and turn to the point I feel as if I am pulling my hair out by the roots from all the head moving. I fling arms and legs and covers everywhere. It’s like watching a clumsy ninja in slow motion.

I can sleep in a chair. I can sleep on a couch. I can sleep on the floor. I cannot sleep in a bed. I attribute this to my overnight hospital stays. Since March, I’ve slept in hospital chairs, wheel chairs, recliners, couches, cots, an air mattress more like a trampoline than a bed, and the floor. Give me a blanket, and I’m good to go. Except for when I’m presented with a bed.

I now cannot sleep without lights and background noise. I can sleep in a fully lit living room, with the lights on, the television blaring, and children wandering through causing trouble, but I cannot sleep in a quiet, dark room. I can even sleep through Sophie’s incessant barking and massive thunderstorms, but if you dare to turn the bathroom light off, my night’s rest is toast.

While I do get some sleep, you’d be kidding yourself if you think I can string seven to eight hours of sleep together in one session. I’ve become so acclimated to overnight shift-taking and nurses coming in every two hours to administer pain meds that if I sleep more than two and half hours, I wake in a panic. You know that panic—it’s the one that young mothers experience the first time the baby sleeps more than four hours in a stretch. So, I can usually tie two of these naps together for a night, and if I’m lucky (like I was last night) three, but there will be breaks in between my sleep now, and I’m still trying to figure out what exactly I’m going to do with those extra awake hours by myself that doesn’t involve watching some of the weirdest infomercials known to humankind. 

So far, I’ve accomplished reading a book (A BOOK!), and making coffee for myself all stealth-like. I have to be stealthy, because J (who normally would not concern himself with my insomnia, figuring one of us needs to get some sleep if I’m going to be out of commission for days) has become concerned with my new sleep habits, and has been trying to keep an eye on me.

So when I fall asleep watching TV on the couch, he’ll end up on the other couch. And when I fall asleep on the floor, he’ll end up snuggling up next to me, afraid I’ll get cold. He’s the Centurion to my Pandorica. And yes, I’m completely caught up on all of the Doctor Who I missed in the second half of this season. And I’m completely and totally Sherlocked.  I’ve caught up on my viewing, well, as much as On Demand will allow…

And Candy Crush! Oh, let me tell you about Candy Crush. I’m on level 253 now, and in the early hours of this morning (I’ve been up since 4:30am, even with my three nap bonus last night), I’ve managed to annihilate level 252. That’s the type of level where you have 30 seconds to score 15,000. I stopped after 45 minutes and eight million points, because I really, really had to pee. I’d already had three cups of coffee, you see.

I’m not certain how I’m going to get back into the swing of things-- sleeping in a bed all night long-- quite yet. At the same time, I don’t really think I’m ready for suggestions, either. I want to see where this is heading. Maybe Candy Crush will contact me and tell me I’m the highest scorer on that level and give me a prize… Or maybe I need to keep playing…

Five Fighting Fictional Friends

This week, one of Mama Kat’s writing prompts invited us to list five fictional friends we wish we had in real life, and describe why they made our list. This is a prompt I just cannot pass up! I can easily begin to feel isolated from my real friends as I go day-to-day: working, cleaning, helping with homework and carting kids to appointments and after school activities. We all can feel isolated at times. Writing about friendship—real or fictional—can be reaffirming.

When I sat down to actually pick five fictional friends and write this post, however, I found myself stymied. How does one go about picking just five? What unifying qualities should my five possess? Why do they all seem to be male? Should they be like friends I actually have, or should they be a bit more outlandish? And why does it seem that all of my fictional five ideas seem to come from television these days? I’m certain that if I wanted to appear witty and smart, I should include at least one from a book. Sheesh! Turn off the TV, Sarah!

Guess Where I Am, or Will Be, or Whatever… Nevermind. It’s Too Much Work

That’s right. I’m at Cheesy Bloggers today! Go forth and read (or re-read) my post on the Summer of Non-fiction.

Or you can read the articles I wrote for Sprocket Ink this week. I wrote about Adele saving the life of a child, and also how you can survive when Summer attacks you or the month of June wants you dead.

Given that the month of June seems to want ME dead, I am taking the rest of the month off (with my boss’s blessing. I think she’s afraid it may spill over to my co-workers). That’s right. No work. No writing. No housecleaning, even. Me: parking my butt and enjoying a week of summer, the way it should be; the way it was when I was a kid. I’m sure you understand, right? Or perhaps insanely jealous.

I’ll be reading. Because it’s summer. And there may be some pool time. And I’m sure they’ll be stories and pictures once I return.

In the interim, however (aka, next week) I will have guest posters, thanks to my lovely fellow Sprocket Ink writers! The theme is summer vacation, and I think you’ll like what they have to say. I know I’m looking forward to your responses to their posts!

Weekend Wrap-Up: Bedtime Reading

For the past two weeks, Ant and I have been working on a plan.  This plan consists of things that Ant wants to learn about, but they don’t teach in school (at least, not yet). After a crummy school year, I want to foster the idea in Ant that learning can be fun. Ant chose three things to learn about this summer: the fifty states of the US, the plant and animal kingdoms (think six classifications of life), and Greek mythology. His idea is to convert our den into a cool classroom (complete with “Good Job!” stickers and maps and a bulletin board.

So we’ve bought a US map and I’ve nabbed some cool free worksheets for the third/fourth grade crowd. I’ve even started a board on Pinterest. Most importantly, however, we found the Greek Mythology book. It’s chock full of the entire Greek Pantheon (Gaia and Uranus, the Titans, the Olympians, the heroes, and even the monsters) with full page color illustrations of the gods and goddesses in seemingly Greek artistic form.  Ant was so excited that we had to start reading it now—even though there’s still a week of school left—and we spend about 30 minutes reading it each night.

Last night, Ant stopped me as I was taking my turn in reading about Zeus defeating his father Cronus (it’s not a fourth grade reading level, after all) and exclaimed, “Whoa! Whoa. This whole book is not just telling you who the gods are. This book is a story of the whole history of ancient Greece, isn’t it?”

“Yes! That’s right!” I was excited he was catching on. I wanted to teach him about mythology and why human beings love to tell stories. It fits into the whole reading/writing thing we’ve been working on.

“Well,” he paused for a moment. “Well, this is one crazy story! Lots of weird things happen.”

“I know. And we’ve just begun. Lots more weird things will happen. Let me ask you this, though: is the story really much weirder than the stories of Adam and Eve? Or Buddha? Or even what my Nanny taught me when I was a child—about the Iktomi and Maka and Inyan?”

“Hmmm,” You could see the wheels spinning in his mind. “No. You’re right. Every one of these stories is weird and exciting.”

Weird and exciting! Success! Until this morning…

Ant was waiting for me when I woke up this morning. The first words out of his mouth were, “I’m having strange dreams. Are you having strange dreams?”

“Why, yes. I had a dream that a mountain of laundry developed into a sentient being and was chasing me throughout the house trying to eat me,” I responded. I left out the part where J pushed me in to the laundry monster in an effort to save himself.

“Mine was stranger,” he said. “I was dressed in a butter stick costume, and there was a scarecrow made of hay chasing me through a corn field. He wanted to spread me on the corn so that it could be buttered popcorn. I ran to a river, and jumped into a boat that looked like a hand. I pulled up the anchor and made my way down the river, but I couldn’t escape, because a mountain of popcorn loomed in front of me.”

I think this may be the byproduct of reading how Cronus ate his children. And then Zeus ate his first wife, Metis. I think that perhaps we should stop reading the Greek mythology before bed…

And this gives you an idea of what didn’t make the blog this week…

Let’s talk about what else happened this week!

What I wrote when I wasn’t here:

I made fun of baby names. Also, I told you the story of prom chaperones gone rogue. And because I didn’t get the chance to pose a weekend wrap up last week, I’m throwing another one in here—where I tell you how to update your zombie apocalypse survival kit to include cocktail sauce. You’ll need it when the giant cannibalistic shrimp learn how to breathe air and attack us.

What did I find elsewhere?

Well, reposting the infographic in this post lost me two friends on Facebook.

And I found out someone does the exact same thing I’ve done to trim my children’s nails…

Finally, I RSVPed to attend this on Tuesday, and I hope you do, too.

So, what was nattering on about at this time last year?

J and I went on strike, and forced the children to cook for us.

I hope you have a wonderful week this week. I am counting down the days until the kiddos are out of school  and the three day weekend strikes us!