Post Vacation Reality Check

Monday has won today.  I am waving the flag!

Maybe it's the post vacation reality check but it is bad.  Well in the grand scheme of things it could be much worse but it's all the little things that add up.

Like the contractor that was supposed to be here at 9 am and showed up at 2pm. And then didn't actually do anything because he had to call his boss. And drove away.

Or the terrible customer service at the grocery store that resulted in me leaving a bag that I still have to go back for.

The dog pooping by the back door while I am making breakfast because apparently, I am the only one that can take him out in the morning.

I know...wah wah wah....

Our little impromptu vacation was good!  Not great but good. I didn't realize how much of a germ-a-phobe I was until I rented a home at the beach for a week. My poor husband! He washed all the dishes so I would actually eat off of them and tried to do everything he could to make it a relaxing vacation. He dealt with my crankiness throughout the week which can be a feat!

We spent a week at the beach and I didn't realize how much I loved living at the beach until I didn't live there anymore. It was a different area then we used to live in but it was still really nice. We had two days of rain so we went to the aquarium, indoor putt putt and of course outlet shopping!

The whole point of the vacation was because my anxiety was really getting the better of me and the tension in my neck/shoulders was causing constant headaches. Nothing a little salt air can't fix, right? Am I cured? No. Do I feel better? I did until today, lol! I am trying not to let the anxiety take over like it was before we left. For those who deal with anxiety, I am sure you know exactly what I mean.

Only 100 days till I can enjoy the salt air and sand again!

What Kind of Friend Am I?

We have all read it before.  Those post about friendship and the kind of friend we want to be or the kind of friend we want to have. Sometimes it really speaks to the heart. Other times it can be full of fluff.

Not going to lie. Sometimes I share them.  I tag away. Then I move on and forget about it 5 minutes later. 

I am not a great friend. My intentions are well but sometimes I just suck at being a friend.  Maybe it is because I don't have a lot of friends. My circle is small, if you would even call it a circle. 

In high school I had friends in all of the crowds. The popular kids, the party animals, the band kids, the jocks {you get it}...but I didn't fit into any of those crowds specifically.  I just kind of socialized with some in each crowd and life was good.  When I graduated high school some of those friendships superficially continued but it didn't last long. Of course thanks to social media we are all "friends" again and yet still the circle is small. There are a small handful of friends that I do keep in touch with and who are an important part of my life. 

In college I met great friends who made the experience fun.  I learned a lot about people and a lot about life. I met the friend that would be Matron of Honor in my wedding and who would be part of my life forever. We don't talk regularly {life, distance, etc} but a long phone call every couple of weeks works for us and our friendship. 

After college and while dating, their friends became my friends but then breakups happen and everyone moves on. Kids arrive and the few friendships you have suffer because either a}they don't have kids or b}you are both so tired you can't keep your eyes open long enough to call them. As the the kids get older, they make friends and then their friends parents become your friends. And so the cycle goes.

We are in a new area, with new people and no family or friends near by. I struggle everyday with who I am going call friends. Our neighborhood is going to be huge and there is going to be a diverse group of people. Not everyone will get along. Such is life.

I am not a confrontational person. I wear my heart on my sleeve.  I can't lie to save my life. And I have great difficulty saying I am sorry. Oh and I roll my eyes. A LOT. I don't even realize I am doing it and I guess I have been doing it my whole life. Or so I am told. But....when it comes to my children, I am a completely different person.  I can be and will be confrontational when necessary. The Mama Bear affect.

But what I want are friends who want the same thing. Spur of the moment get togethers. Thrown together dinners. Kids who may not always get along with my kids but who genuinely want to be friends with my kids. Friends who don't judge me for who I am. Someone who won't judge my children. The understanding that kids will be kids. Families that enjoy getting together with other families. Friends who don't judge when you finish the bottle of wine yourself. Laundry on the couch, groceries on the counter or toys scattered aren't a deter-ant.  Low maintenance friendships because Lord knows there is enough stress in life already.

Maybe I am asking a lot. Maybe I am not asking enough. But either way I genuinely want to be a good friend. I just need to find the right people who want to be my friends. Who knew that something that could be {or is?} so simple is so difficult. 

Anxiety is a Bitch

I have been a secret anxiety sufferer since I was a teenager.  I can tell you exactly where I was when I had my first anxiety attack. What is was caused by and how it still haunts me.

My Grandparents lived about 15 minutes from our home. I was a teenager and I was spending the night at their house for some reason.  I didn't drive but I had lots of friends that did. I remember laying on the couch watching tv and getting a call on my old school flip cell phone. I had a pager too, I was that cool. {Not really} My friends said they were going to hang out at someones house and that they would pick me up from my Grandparents house at a certain time.  I was excited. I was laying on the couch watching tv waiting for them to arrive. And waiting. And waiting. My chest starting tightening. My jaw started hurting and my back began throbbing. Where were they? Had they forgotten about me?  Did I not give them the correct directions?  I waited and waited until they called and said change of plans, they weren't coming. I couldn't breathe.  I felt rejected. Not good enough. The pain I was feeling was something I had never experienced before and I couldn't tell anyone about it.

Eventually the pain went away and I went to bed. Then it happened on another occasion. And then another. This went on for years and years. I never told anyone because I didn't know why it was happening.

I finally told my husband one night after I had one of the worst attacks ever.  He couldn't believe that I had never said anything before. I was scared to tell anyone.  He understood and for the longest time he was the only one who knew.  He could tell when something was wrong and he helped me through it.

It didn't get any better. In fact, I had shingles twice. From stress {new job for him and Autism diagnosis for our son}. Then I would have almost constant anxiety attacks because of the shingles. It was like I was on this giant hamster wheel that kept spinning and spinning.

It was when the big move was announced that the anxiety hit an all time high.  We were packing up and moving 6 hours from our friends and family and the place we had called home for almost 6 years. Leaving behind "my people" for uncertainty had me in knots. How I didn't get shingles again, I still don't understand.

Shorty after the move the anxiety attacks where happening every day. Sometimes more than once a day.  It was so uncomfortable and no matter what I did, nothing was helping.  We are healthy eaters (I have a gluten intolerance so we are predominately perimeter of the store shoppers), I use essential oils and while I don't exercise, I love to walk. SO why was this happening? At my husbands encouragement, I made an appointment with the doctor to figure it out.

Well I am glad I did! I failed the anxiety test that they had me take. I told her {an abbreviated version of} my story and she was shocked that I had been dealing with this for so long.  She gave me a script and some names of psychologists to look into. Medication wasn't my first choice but I needed something to help get things under control.

I found a psychologist who at first was great.  I am a Christian but I do not attend church regularly. When she started reciting Bible verses and had me copy down scripture, I felt like she wasn't helping me in the way that I needed to be helped.  I had taken up journaling, was walking more regularly, and using my oils more often. Things slowly began to improve.  My mood changed and my husband really started to see a difference.

Things were going great. I was talking about my anxiety and sharing about it with people who had honestly no idea.  I started connecting with friends who were in a similar situation. We got through the home building process and I was actually able to cut back on my medication.

I feel like I am in a bit of a regression right now and the anxiety attacks are happening a little bit more frequently. I have gotten away from the things I was doing to manage it before and I know that I need to get back on track to make it stop.  Making friends in our new area is proving to be more difficult then I was expecting. Trying to find our routine in our new home has not been easy.

I know anxiety sucks.  It's not how I want to live my life.  I need to work better at everyday things to control it so that I don't need the medication. I don't want to be on medication for ever.  It's not the kind of life I want for myself or my family.  I also know that my frequent panic attacks aren't fair to them either.

I have learned to not be afraid to talk about it because the stigma of keeping quiet about it is crap. People out there are going through this everyday and if you can find someone you can relate to that can help you, well then do it!  Don't keep it in.  It isn't healthy for you. I may not be in the best place with my anxiety right now {it has been much worse so that is a plus} but I am always here to listen.