What Will Your Kids Think?

Ever since I started blogging and writing columns for the local newspaper, friends and even strangers have asked me if I’m going to let my kids read my articles when they’re older and what will my kids think about what I’m writing. When first asked, I thought it was strange, but it’s been asked many times. It’s odd to. me because I’m very open in my struggles and don’t mind sharing them. To me, and maybe I’m wrong, there’s the implication that I’m writing something that my kids shouldn’t see, which is bullshit.

In my house, we talk openly of me depression. My kids know I struggle at times and understand to the best of their ability. We don’t talk about my suicidal thoughts, but they realize when I’m not doing well. It’s kind of hard not to notice.

Maybe people don’t mean it that way but aren’t I doing this all for my kids? And their generation? When I first started this blog (spurred by Kate Spade’s suicide), it was to stop hiding, to eradicate the stigma associated with mental illness. I want it to be second nature for someone to talk about their struggles and illness in general. I don’t want them or anyone to feel the shame and guilt that seem to come with every depression diagnosis.

Lying and keeping my illness to myself only worsened by condition. Not being educated about mental disorders only hurt me; had I had early intervention when I first started showing signs of anxiety and depression, I might not have ended up at a psychiatric facility. I certainly would’ve been better off learning about coping skills at that age. I’m not trying to blame anyone in particular but society as a whole. When you know what to look for, it’s a lot easier to get help.

And now we know what to look for, but we’re still thwarted by the stigma, thwarted in our recovery and maintenance.

So, yes, I do want my kids to read my articles and blogs. I want them to be aware that it could happen to them. I want them to know that even if they don’t struggle with mental illness, they still need to be empathetic and not cast judgement on others. I need them to know that it can happen to anyone and that you can’t just wish it away. I surely would have done so a million times by now.

I also need them to know that it’s not their fault that I’m the way that I am. It’s not theirs, and it’s not mine. It’s a disease like any other, and that’s something people choose to ignore.

I’ve had many people send me messages and emails saying they love my blog but can’t talk to their family and friends about their mental illness because they were afraid of the consequences — I know them too well. The ridicule and ignorant statements that it’s something that we choose. Just the other day, a good friend came over and was admiring how new house. He then looked at me and said, “I wouldn’t have any mental health issues in this house.”

I scoffed. I thought he was kidding, and maybe he was, but it’s not funny. I am blessed and fortunate to say the least, but even my good blessings can’t keep the dark, lonely, violent throes of depression. That’s the kind of thinking that keeps people quiet. And when people keep quiet about their struggles, they’re more prone to kill themselves. We must stop that dangerous rhetoric now.

Honestly, it will probably be a little painful when my kids read what I write, but at least they’ll know that I’m honest and authentic in my struggles and I worked very hard to lend my voice to those who couldn’t quite find theirs, by no fault of their own. That I stood up for people like me, that I demanded change. That I fought for their generation to be different. That ever since I gave birth to Isla, I’ve been fighting every single day for my life, and it’s because of them that I will never stop fighting.

Never.

I Hate My Brain

Ever have a long day and think to yourself you deserve a treat? So you get ice cream and start to feel better? That sounds normal to me. My problem is that I think I deserve a treat multiple times a day. I constantly want to feel good. To feel happy. I compulsively eat to get that high and, enjoy that “treat.” Then I feel sick. After I’ve recovered, I look for another treat, forgetting how sick I felt earlier. It’s a vicious cycle.

I do this a lot but especially when the kids are away at my mother-in-law’s. I tell myself that I need to relax, enjoy the quiet and that I need to feel good. Last night, even after I had a big dinner, I sat there thinking of what I could eat that would make me feel good. And I even tried many things, despite being uncomfortably full already. M&Ms didn’t work. Neither did peanut butter crackers, ice cream or SweeTARTS.

But there is nothing I can eat that will make me truly happy.

Now, I’m trying to give myself a break because I am in need of an ECT treatment, which is scheduled for Friday. Usually the week before treatment I run out of gas, and I try to cope however I can. BUT this doesn’t just happen in the weeks leading up to treatment. This happens all the time, even when I’ve just had an ECT.

So I pose this question, “Why do I feel the need to be happy all the time?” Honestly, that question was asked by my therapist last week. She following up with, “Can’t we sit with other emotions? Nobody is happy every minute of the day.”

And she’s right. We don’t need to be happy every minute. I think my problem is that I HATE being uncomfortable, so I’ll do anything to push those negative emotions aside. Emotions like anxiety, stress, anger or sadness. It’s clearly not working for me to ignore these problems, and even if overeating has helped in the past, it sure as hell is not working now.

This may sound strange, but I think I need to acknowledge and honor whatever feelings I’m having. Maybe I need to grab my journal whenever I’m feeling negative emotion, talk about what’s going on and then release that feeling. I don’t know.

All I know if that I need to stop coping by bingeing. It’s made me gain a bunch of weight and really, aren’t I just eating my emotions?

Sometimes I really hate my brain, which I hold responsible for my debilitating-at-times depression and anxiety. I hate that it doesn’t respond to other treatments. I hate that my mental health is so precarious, and I resent that I have to be so careful as to not disturb it. I hate that happiness seems so fleeting at times. I’m not a big fan of my eating disorder either.

I don’t like to say hate; It forces a dichotomy with the idea that I should love and respect myself. I’m trying really hard to love myself, even almost 30 pounds heavier and a handful of mental disorders. But I feel betrayed by my brain. I know I need to reconcile those ideas. I know there is more benefit in loving all of me. I’ll get there. Despite everything that my brain has thrown at me, I’ve only become stronger. Take that, asshole.

And there are times that I think God made me this way because He thought I could handle it. I can, and I will. I remember this quote: “Your talent is God’s gift to you. What you do with it is your gift back to God.” I don’t mean to sound haughty, but maybe He knew I would use my voice and (hopefully) help others through my writing. That’s why I can’t stop blogging so much about mental health; there are so many who feel alone and haven’t found their voice yet. I certainly don’t mind lending mine in the meantime.

I guess my brain is just as much a blessing as a curse.

In a Nutshell: My Week in Review

I hope y’all are doing well. It’s been awhile since I posted an update, so here goes. First of all, I want to wish everyone who celebrates a Happy Easter. We’re Jewish but we still do an Easter egg hunt and the Easter Bunny drops off goodies in their baskets.

This past week was a little trying for me. I’ve had an ECT appointment scheduled for next week, which is the eight-week mark. I really thought I could push past eight weeks but I’ve noticed I’m more irritable and my temper is shorter than normal, so I should probably just do it. It’s hard for me to admit that I need one because I hate them so much. I really dislike going under anesthesia; it makes me anxious and scared. My pulse quickens and my blood pressure goes higher than normal, and I have to use all the strength I have not to start bawling and begging to get me out of there. I know it doesn’t make sense — I’ve had almost 30 treatments, and I’ve never had a bad experience. But that’s just how it is. Anyway, I’ll try not to focus on that this week; I’ll just think how much better I’m going to feel and what a difference it’ll make.

In other news, tomorrow (Monday), one of my latest columns will be printed in the Corpus Christi Caller-Times. They’re letting me write some more mental health columns, and I’m hoping it turns into a regular columnist job — it would be a dream of mine. So if you’re not too busy, go to Caller.com tomorrow and check it out.

That’s it for now. I hope you guys have a happy, healthy week.

Stay in the light.

Favorite Products That Help Me Keep My Chill

I’ve really been focusing on self-care lately. My goal is to space out my ECT treatments to eight to 12 weeks, so in between sessions I need to step up my self-care game. That includes exercising more and eating a healthy diet. It also includes taking advantage of the little things at home that add up to a lot when you’re trying to take care of yourself. Remember, self-care is not selfish — it’s necessary.

Below you’ll find my favorite things around the house and products that help me keep my chill and decrease anxiety.

My favorite books — I don’t get to read much these days but when I do, I usually go for a book I’ve already read. There’s no mystery, no twists and turns to upset my anxiety, just my favorite characters and their stories. I’d also add The Red Tent to this list — that’s another of my faves but not an easy read. You’ll also see The Big Activity Book for Anxious People, which always helps me feel better. It’s not a boring workbook, it’s a hilarious take on how to calm down and I love it.

Lauer Under Eye Patches — I found these on Amazon , and I really like them. They’re inexpensive but feel so good under my eyes after a long day. They feel cool to my skin, and I think it helps minimize some of my lines. It definitely helps with puffiness.

Not Your Mother’s Butter Masque (Green Tea and Apple Blossom) — I follow the Curly Girl Method for my hair, so after using my conditioner on my curls, I put this hair mask on and it makes me hair feel so hydrated and helps with the curls. The mask is inexpensive and can be found in a number of places. I use Target and Amazon.

OPI Nail Colors — I went more than a year without going to a nail salon, so I quickly learned to do my own manicures. Every few days, I change the color and it makes me so happy to see all the bright colors. I recommend getting a cheap manicure set and buying your favorite colors. Definitely get a Base Coat and a Top Coat, too.

Sephora’s The Peeling Mask — This a disposable face mask that you do for just a few minutes, but I love how relaxing it is to lie down with this mask on after the kids are asleep. It brings a touch of luxury to my day that’s usually not luxurious at all. The mask is under $10; I usually find it for $4.

Candles — In the past I’ve never been able to tolerate candles, because fragrance can cause migraines, but I’ve been able to use more, sometimes every day. I love waking up in the morning and lighting a candle while I’m getting the kids ready for school. It’s calming and certain smells can definitely reduce the amount of stress you feel and decrease anxiety. My fave candle right now is Cactus Blossom from Bath & Body Works. The three-wick candle usually sells at $24.50, but they have sales quite a bit.

Slippers — When we moved to the new house, my feet started hurting from all the back and forth I was doing while organizing. I put on a pair of Ugg slippers and rarely take them off. They are so comfortable! Sometimes I forget I’m wearing them and accidentally leave the house in them. I love that they have a strap around the back and how cushy they are. They are expensive but in my opinion, they’re worth it. I love putting my comfy clothes on at the end of the day and sliding into my slippers. I feel it helps me relax better.

Soft Touch Foot Peel Mask — This is another Amazon find. I bought it after I saw a video of a woman peeling off dead skin after using the peel mask. It was so satisfying. What you do: put the mask footie on your feet and leave on for an hour. Then you wash your feet off and in a couple of days your feet will start to peel. Not only is it fun to peel them, but it leaves your feet so soft. I used these every few months. It was especially helpful because I couldn’t go to the nail salon for a pedicure. It’s affordable too — about $20 for a two pack.
Udderly Smooth Hand Lotion and Body Cream — The lotion is no joke. I use it on my hands (and sometimes my feet) and it makes them feel so soft, and I hope it’s helping all the wrinkles on my hand. I have old lady hands. But this stuff goes on and makes your hands soft like buttah. It costs $16 for a 12-oz pack of two.

Dr. Teal’s Pink Himalayan Bath Foam, Body Lotion and Salt Scrub – I LOVE the smell of the pink himalayan salt. It smells so good, and I instantly relax in the tub when I use the bath foam. There’s nothing like taking a long hot bath, using the bath foam and the salt scrub. Followed by the lotion. It makes me feel like I’m at a spa. None of the products are expensive. You can find them at HEB, Target and Amazon. I heard the lavender fragrance is good, too but that’s an instant migraine trigger for me.

Last but not lease — Karribi Paint by Number Kit — I thought doing a paint by number piece would be relaxing and help me to focus on something other than my anxiety. I love putting my headphones in and painting these kits. There are several kits that have birds, so I bought all of those. It’s relaxing, it gives me some uninterrupted “me time” and I get a beautiful bird painting afterward. I highly recommend this for anxiety and stress. It looks like Amazon no longer carries this particular kit, but there are tons of paint by number kits for adults.

I am in no way being paid for these endorsements — I just wanted to share what goes into my self-care routine. If you want to add anything, please feel free and drop it in the comments. I’m wishing you all good health and peace. Thanks for reading.

Stay in the light.

Success in Mediocrity

All the writing I did about Isla’s gifted and talented scores got me thinking about the idea of success and what that means for me.

When I was younger (high school-ish), I would’ve told you being successful was having a good job, being well-off and married. I thought my parents were successful, which they are, so I intended on emulating their lifestyle. But when I did go out into the “real world” after college, I couldn’t hang. I got a job hundreds of miles away, working as a reporter to a mid-size daily newspaper, the Corpus Christi Caller-Times. I missed my family, and even though I made friends, it was still so hard. My depression worsened for one, probably from being away from home and stress of my first job. I got in trouble a lot for calling in sick (either depression or migraines), and I ended up quitting just short of a year. I quit journalism too, even though I thought being a journalist was my calling. I felt like a loser, and I was really anxious and embarrassed about the whole thing.

I eventually got a new job where I could use my writing skills, but I still mourned the idea of not being a journalist.

I never found another job that made me feel as good as writing for a newspaper did. After a few years of working various jobs, I stopped working all together so I could get healthy enough to have a baby. People judged me for not working, but to be completely honest, it felt amazing to get that pressure off me. I did become healthier and had two beautiful babies within two years. I still haven’t gone back to work, and I like it that way.

When people ask me what I do for a living, and I say stay-at-home mom, it sometimes stings but I think that’s because society has conditioned us to believe that success only lies in one’s occupation. And for a lot of people, that’s true. But not I. It never occurred to me back then that that a job is just a job — it’s not who you are. And just because I don’t have one (that pays) doesn’t make me less of a person.

But it’s not about a job, house, how much money you have, etc. For me, it’s about happiness and being fulfilled. I was never the brightest, thinnest, most athletic, most ambitious person. I’m not even sure I’ve been the best at anything, and I say that not fishing for compliments but to proclaim that I might be mediocre in many ways but I’m also exceptional in others. I celebrate the fact that my life doesn’t have to parallel my parents’ or anyone else’s. I celebrate my strengths, even though they may not match others’. God made me the way I am for a reason. And you, too.

Success should look different for everyone, because we’re not all the same. We don’t have to be. We don’t have to join the rat race, either. All those “flaws” I thought I had before aren’t flaws at all, and I should celebrate them because they make me, me. I don’t get paid, but I write everyday and blog about a topic that I’m very passionate about. It makes me happy, and hopefully, I’m helping others in the process.

I will remember this about my kids as they grow up and try to figure out life as they know it. And I’ll support them, no matter what success means to them. Just like my parents did with me.

What Makes Night Within Us May Leave Stars

Earlier today, I was writing a piece for my kids’ preschool, and I wrote something that I’ve never really discussed before, at least here on my blog.

I talked about how my depression and anxiety weren’t that bad until I had children. That it wasn’t lost on me that after I had kids my brain changed drastically and my depression worsened. But at the same time, my heart opened and I felt love that I’ve never felt. Sure, I experienced pain that I’ve never felt before too, but oh my god, the happiness and love that I feel when I’m with my kids is so amazing and just indescribable. It was some weird trade-off, I guess. And I’m here for it.

I also talked about how Isla sometimes is anxious. It isn’t surprising given my history with anxiety but it sure is painful to see her struggling or in a panicked state. She could just be an anxious child or she could just have common, every day 6-year-old worries. She’s too young to diagnose, and I hope she doesn’t have an anxiety disorder at all. Eli, either. Of course, I don’t want my kids to go through what I’ve been through. But just in case, I’m ready for it. I know how to navigate mental illness, believe me, and I so wish that I had the knowledge and resources when I was 12 that I do now. Early intervention is so important.

Now that I’m in a better place, I can say that every terrible thing I’ve felt and gone through has been worth it. It’s so worth it if I can be with and enjoy my kids. The meds, the psychiatric hospital, the panic attacks, ECTs, suicidal thoughts — it’s all worth it. Maybe it’s easy to say this while I’m not experiencing a depressive episode. But it needs to be said, I feel. I need to express just how grateful I am for my family, especially my kids and how they’ve shaped my life. Yes, my life would be dramatically different had I not had kids, but screw that idea of “what could have been.” My life, despite my illnesses, is so good. And again, I’m so thankful. And if I have to endure hell sometimes, so be it. Every depressive episode or panic attack only makes me stronger. My kids will see that, and it’s OK that they see me suffer and cope. They’ll see my resilience and perseverance.

And maybe that’s why I had to go through all that I did — to help one of my children go through the same. If that’s the case, it’s been more than worth it, and I’d do it all again. As a parent, I’ll always want to help my kids (read more here) and even remove all the roadblocks in their life, but I know it doesn’t work like that. But I can help. I’ll always be there.

Maybe my kids are just fine and I’m making too much out of nothing. Maybe I’m supposed to be blogging about my experiences to help others. If that’s the case, if I’ve helped even one person, it’s all been worth it.

It’s all been worth it, no matter what the case. I’m a better person for what I’ve been through, and all I want to do is make someone, anyone, feel that they are not alone. That their feelings are valid. That they are worthy and important.

And even though my brain tells me the opposite, I’d like to believe all that, too.

Maybe if I say, “It’s all been worth it” enough I’ll believe it. Maybe I can believe that I’m worth it.

It’s all been worth it.

And I’m worth it, too.

In a Nutshell: My Week in Review

I don’t have much to say about this past week, other than it was OK. It went by quickly, which is good because I’m been anxious about receiving the scores of my daughter’s gifted and talented test. I thought they’d send them out, and I got so worked up about it that I called to office only for them to tell me they’re not sending out the letters until this upcoming Friday. That sucks, because we’re supposed to be leaving for Dallas that weekend for Spring Break. Oh well, I can’t do anything about it, and I know that worrying will only hurt me. So, I’ll try to let that go, lol. But I did talk to two other mothers who both told me they were constantly checking their email for the results, so I’m not alone.

I’m looking forward to our trip to Dallas to see my parents. We haven’t traveled in a long time, and it’ll be nice to get a change in scenery. I’m hoping to see my best friend, too but I don’t know if it’s in the cards.

Anyway, that’s it for me. This week I’m going to focus on decluttering, so I’m not so anxious and writing some more. I hope y’all have a great week. If you’re so inclined, please say a prayer about Isla’s scores. It’s important to me and my husband.

Stay in the light, my friends.

Just Say No

I don’t like saying no to my kids, big surprise, right? In the past, I haven’t wanted to hear them scream, whine or cry because I didn’t say yes. It makes me uncomfortable when they do that, and as you know, I hate being uncomfortable. So, if the kids wanted junk food, I’d say yes and if they wanted some kind of new toy, yes again.

Then it dawned on me — I got everything I ever wanted growing up (which I’m grateful for) but I never learned how to work hard for anything, and I don’t want that for my kids. I had no work ethic, and I never learned struggle or how to cope with it. Already, my kids are privileged and spoiled. They are accustomed to the finer things in life, and the last thing I want them to be are entitled assholes when they grow up. You see — I don’t need to be in the business of saying, “yes.” I NEED to say, “no,” because I want to raise them to be healthy adults. It’s not going to hurt them to hear, “no,” and it’s not going to hurt me, despite what I’m feeling at the time.

The consequences of not saying, “no,” are dire. I’ll admit that I’m not a healthy adult, but let me be clear — it’s not because of anything my parents did or didn’t do. My shortcomings are due to crappy genetics, crappy coping skills, among other things. But they’re there. I don’t want my children to suffer the way I do now. For example, I have an eating disorder — I don’t take care of myself the way I should by eating healthy; instead I binge eat when I’m stressed — alas, a crappy coping skill. I’ve also never had a job for more than three years. I’m dependent on my husband, which isn’t necessarily unhealthy, but I’d like both of my kids to be financially independent and have a good worth ethic.

I’ll confess that sometimes I feel like they’re getting the short end of the stick by having a severely depressed mother. Buying them toys, clothes and other crap is probably me trying to compensate for being ill. But logically, I know that material things don’t matter — experiences matter. Teaching them how to be healthy matters. Showing them how to overcome adversity matters, and I can do that. I’m resilient and scrappy, two traits I want them to have, too. I may not be the healthiest, but being sick all the time has made me stronger. I hope that’s what my children will see — that even though I suffer with a chronic, invisible disease, I still show up to fight….for myself and my family.

Ann Landers said, “It is not what you do for your children, but what you have taught them to do for themselves that will make them successful human beings.” She’s not wrong.

And that’s what I have to remember every time I say no. I’m not depriving them of anything — I’m shaping them into good people (I hope). I also need to remember this when I don’t feel like taking care of myself, because they’re watching and learning. It’s up to me to model healthy behavior, as hard as it is.

Parenting is hard. We all mess up and think we’re not good enough, me especially. Then I remember how Isla collected more than 1,000 toothbrushes for the homeless because she was worried they didn’t have money to brush their teeth. I recall how Eli puts his hand on my face and tells me he appreciates and loves me. They’re loving, kind and a product of their environment, which I’m extremely proud of. Learning to say no will be hard but it will definitely help in shaping them into healthy adults. I truly believe that.

And while I’m at it, maybe I can be shaped into a healthy adult, too.

Millennials and Anxiety

I was on the phone with my mom yesterday when I brought up one of my cousins and how she too struggles with severe anxiety. Hers is so severe that she has had to drive herself to the ER because of panic attacks. Then my mom mentioned two other cousins who suffer from anxiety. My mom and I joked about how so many of us had anxiety and said that if she had mentioned having a headache or being nervous about something, she would be told, “You’re too young to have headaches or be nervous.” Basically, she and her seven other siblings would’ve been brushed off or told to suck it up. Not because her parents were mean or anything, that was just how it was back then. Because of this, my mom’s generation didn’t talk about feelings. I guess they bottled it all up or coped in other ways.

I had joked about it, but it got me thinking: why are so many Millennials (those born 1981 to 1996) so anxious? Why do (most) of us feel free to share their feelings and struggles when our own parents were taught not to? Do we overthink things? Am I overthinking this blog?

I don’t think so, lol.

Fun fact: Anxiety wasn’t even officially recognized as a condition in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) until 1980, so I get why there’s resistance among older generations to acknowledge it as a real disorder/disease, but it now affects more than 40 million Americans — it’s a serious and widespread disorder.

The American Psychological Association reports that 12 percent of Millennials have officially been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder—almost twice the percentage of Boomers who have been similarly diagnosed. The Blue Cross Blue Shield Association also released a report in 2018 that showed that diagnoses of mental disorders had risen dramatically by 33 percent since 2013, and millennials make up 47 percent of that figure. 

“Millennials have seen two major economic collapses, higher rates of divorce among their parents, a skyrocketing student loan crisis and a widening gap between the rich and the poor,” according to culture critic Kalev Rudolph.

Byrdie.com says, “While every generation tends to believe that they lived through the hardest times, the spike in anxiety levels among millennials shows that they are indeed going through more periods of stress than generations before them.”

When talking to one of my besties, she mentioned that watching the shuttle explode in Kindergarten changed her, as well as watching the Twin Towers fall in high school. Understandably, it takes a toll. Some people may roll their eyes at what I’m saying because people say that Millennials are weak and spoiled. And while I personally can’t dispute the spoiled part, I can dispute the weak part. So many of us were taught to keep things inside and not be vulnerable, but also many of us have embraced being vulnerable and authentic in what we feel and struggle with. That’s not a weakness — it takes a very strong person to share her struggle and be open about what she’s going through.

It wasn’t easy for me to “come clean” about my major depression, anxiety disorder, eating disorder, personality disorder and suicidal thoughts. It wasn’t easy, because the stigma of depression and (other mental disorders) is still very prevalent in the U.S. That stigma is what kept me quiet during my struggles, which only made it worse. It’s lonely when you’re fighting a disease you can’t talk about with anyone. And now, people congratulate and sing my praises because I do share so much — and I’m beyond grateful for that. But it shouldn’t be that way — everyone suffering with depression or another mental disorder should feel supported and free to share their experiences.

So, no — Millennials aren’t weak, and Boomers/Gen Xers aren’t stronger for keeping their problems to themselves. I acknowledge that those generations were taught to “suck it up” and keep it to themselves. That’s what they knew and how they coped. I don’t mean to sound condescending, but they didn’t know any better.

But now, we know better — we’ve evolved…not as much as I’d like, but we’re getting there.

It’s not a coincidence that so many of my female first cousins suffer from severe anxiety. Obviously, there’s a genetic component but what else is at play? Personally, my parents never told me to suck it up or not to be honest about my mental disorders. But somewhere along the way — and I suspect it’s the true for my cousins — we were taught to aspire to a certain image (i.e. being skinny). I know this to be true because I’m not the only one in my family with an eating disorder. Also, that ideal didn’t include admitting to mental illness, eating disorders, suicidal thoughts, etc. I suspect that’s why I stayed quiet about my issues so long. I can’t speak for my wonderful cousins.

It’s nice to know that I’m not some genetic anomaly (although that could be debatable), because it can be so lonely to fight anxiety alone. I’m in good company — my cousins are all successful, kind, empathetic, loving women who fight just as hard as I do on a daily basis. I so badly want us to come together, share our experiences and support each other.

That’s the hallmark of our generation — strength and empathy.

Not So Fun Times in Texas

We live in Corpus Christi in South Texas. Because we’re a South Texas coastal town, we don’t see much cold weather. Not like we have this past week. Temps have been well below freezing, then it rained. Ice was on the roads and pipes burst, making our water undrinkable. We haven’t had any power since Monday at 4 a.m. It’s actually like this in most of the state. And it’s been a complete shit show.

Mentally, I was doing OK, despite having been locked in my house with my kids all week with nothing to do. Despite not being able to go anywhere. Despite having power in only parts of the house (which is better than most, believe it or not). That was all until yesterday. Yesterday morning, I found myself losing my temper more with the kids and generally was in a pissed off mood. Then I got word that there would be no school for the rest of the week, which I expected but dreaded. My kids have been fighting all week long, and I just have no more to give today.

This week has just been shitty for millions of Texans. As I was talking to a friend about it, she said something along the lines of, “I am not good in these situations where nothing is routine or normal at all.”

And, boy did I feel that.

I too am a creature of habit. I get bent out of shape when even the slightest thing is off about my routine. I don’t like the unexpected. Hell, I don’t even like surprises most of the time, even if they’re good. When the pandemic hit last year, I thought I was going to lose my mind every single day. And yes, I did eventually adapt and we started a new routine. But with this shit this week, I have not adapted. I don’t enjoy sponge baths, I don’t enjoy having to entertain my two small children every minute of the day and I don’t enjoy being trapped inside the house (we can’t even take a car ride because of the icy roads). But this isn’t because I’m a creature of habit — this is because of debilitating anxiety.

My anxiety (a product of Generalized Anxiety Disorder) is more than a little nervousness about some things — it exhausts me, it makes me think worst-case scenarios about anything and everything about my life and it gives me panic attacks. That’s normal for me, in normal situations. In situations such as the one we’re in now, it’s so much worse. Little things, like repetitive noises and messes, send me over the edge. It’s hard to calm down once I’m already triggered, and it’s really hard to keep my composure in front of the kids, which I do attempt. It affects me mentally and physically. I’m exhausted and very tense. I’m so tired and frustrated, that I said “fucking” in front of the kids and my mother in law. My kids have definitely expanded their vocab this week.

I know it’s temporary and will all be over soon, but it doesn’t change how I feel. Some things are just harder for people with anxiety. I don’t wish it on anyone.

I had such high hopes for this week, because it’s my birthday week. Now, I’ll be lucky if they get the power back on by Saturday, lol. But I do know that it will all be OK soon. School will start back up Monday, and things will get back to normal. I’ll appreciate the structure and routine so much more than I did before.

If you have a loved one with anxiety, ask how you can support them. Avoid statements like, “calm down” or “don’t worry.” I always feel misunderstood and brushed off when my anxiety is met with statements like that. An anxiety disorder can be quite debilitating and should be considered serious. I have friends who have had a panic attack and had to go to the ER it was so bad.

I hope you are all warm and safe. If you’re not, I’m saying prayers for you.

Stay in the light, my friends.