Jumbled Words {Anxiety}

Unsettled sleep. Eyes can't close for long, there's something out there. 

Spooked.

Chills. Always chills. 

Cold sweats.

Careful foot placement. The floor may cave. 

Walking the tightrope. The rope is about to snap. 

Drifting. Drifting while driving.

Gasping for air. Always gasping.

Shakes. A reminder of existence. 

Falling. Will something break the fall?

Everything an edge. Footing is important. One slip and... 

This looks familiar. Deja vu. Again and again. Deja vu.

Are you out there?

Can you hear me?

No, no you can't.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Generalized Anxiety Disorder: This disorder involves excessive, unrealistic worry and tension, even if there is little or nothing to provoke the anxiety.

Panic Disorder: People with this condition have feelings of terror that strike suddenly and repeatedly with no warning.

A Weekend Trip

My family and I are hitting the road this Friday for Atlanta! I'm trying extra hard to not be stressed about it. It's only for two nights and I have all week long to prepare what to bring. It's just a bit harder when there's a toddler involved. 

Up until yesterday, the trip was seeming like a chore to me but as of today? I've decided that that's just silly and this is going to be FUN! My husband's cousin's son (that's a mouthful) is graduating from high school. Not only will we be visiting with them but we have relatives flying in from Colorado for the event. To top that off? I'm meeting Jana at Panera on Saturday morning for coffee and girl talk.

Could it get any better? 


My mind is continuing to clear. At this time last week my head was still quite foggy and blank. Slowly but surely I'm cutting through the thickness of it all and I am able to make decisions again. What a relief. On the downside? My teen is biting at my nerves the past few days and he used to get away with it. The solution of the added stress I've decided is willingly take my antianxiety pills when push comes to shove. 


I can do this. 


P.S. Do you live in the Atlanta area and want to get together with us girls on Saturday morning? Of course you do. Hit me up on Twitter.
 

Cemeteries of St. Augustine & The Kissing Tree

Hauntingly beautiful...

There's a sense of mystery here, I think.

Nope, that's not a bench. It's an above the ground crypt.

The palm tree is in fact growing out of the Live Oak!

This is known as "The Kissing Tree". Legend has it, if you kiss your lover under this tree, you will be together forever.

You Matter

The sun is peeking through...

Yesterday I had a lot of mundane chores to do around the house. Around 3pm I settled the baby down for his nap and grabbed my Kindle (my newest love). I nestled into the marshmellow-y recliner and began to read. A bit of the way through, I had to get up to put the laundry into the dryer. This normally would have set me off, the me time on pause. The moment I sat back down to resume reading, I realized my mood was on an up even after the interruption and I smiled. The storm is clearing. 

Last time I felt this good, it was only for six days. But it was six days that I wasn't depressed or anxious or angry. I'm in a place right now that feels more long-term. I can't explain it, it's just how I feel.

My doctor and I have been playing around with my medication (again) and I'm in the process of weaning off one in particular that was making me stabby from exhaustion. If I didn't nap every day (who has time for that when working full-time?) I would be a raging lunatic who'd start nodding off mid-sentence by 8pm. Plus? I started lactating. That's a hell of a side-effect if you ask me. This week, I'll be finished weaning completely. 

I not only see the beauty in this but I can smell it too...

In its place I'm taking a mood stabilizer. I'm not crazy about the thought of taking yet another pill but I have an open mind. If I begin to feel off from this one I plan on contacting my doctor and working with him to wean off of all medications except for the antidepressant. I just feel like maybe my body needs a break and maybe fasting from all the drugs would be beneficial. If at that point I'm still off, I'll suggest switching the antidepressant and working with him to find the right dose. Of course if that doesn't work, it'll be obvious that an additional drug is necessary (mood stabilizer) and I'll go from there. I believe in actively participating with my doctor to treat my illness.

The light at the end lifts the numbing...

I've been in a dark place. The depression has taken away a part of me that I truly miss. My creativity. I want it back and I'm fighting for it. I won't give up until I see a piece of it returning. 

I've had some really bad thoughts cross my mind and I'd be lying to you if I said it was a one time thing. I'm glad the thoughts didn't win out. I'm happy to spend another day walking this Earth while holding the hands of my loved ones and the hands of those of you who need to see the clearing up ahead.  

Depression sucks, no matter the form. If you have thoughts of harming yourself because you just can't take it anymore, I'm proof that it's the depression talking, not you. Get help right away by telling someone who can monitor you and your moods. Someone who is willing to go to your doctor with you. If it means spending a few nights in the hospital, so be it. Because you're worth it.

Happy Healing!

I'm an asshole

When I'm battling this fucking depression I know I can be an asshole. In fact I'm pretty sure that 88% of the time, I'm a complete asshole and I don't know how to fix that. I get downright evil.

When I don't want to do something specific (like get out of bed and/or go to work) or if I don't want to talk about something (like disciplining the kids) I basically throw my hands up in the air and stare into oblivion. All while being an asshole.

Have I mentioned yet how much of an asshole I can be when I'm in depression mode? Because I am. An asshole that is.

My kids are going through a tough stage in school right now grade-wise. One basically just doesn't give a shit and the other is slacking because the end of the year is near. They play me against my husband and I hate it but the thing is, they know I'm going to forget about what it is they're doing in the moment because that's what I do. I forget. In one ear and out the other. Then it's like it didn't happen until my husband asks me a question and then I'm all, Oh FUCK! Such and such and such and such and...I'M AN ASSHOLE!

I just had to get that out in the open. The asshole part, you know, in case you missed it. If I get snippy with you on Twitter or something later, be reminded of my asshole-ish-ness and all will be righted. I promise. 

My Husband, The Other Child

Last year on Father’s Day, we loaded up the wagon, took a walk to our nearby park, and had a picnic.  My son was able to play on the playground.  I enjoyed it.  It was simple.  It was fun.

This year for Mother’s Day, I spent a little time thinking about what I wanted.  It’s the one day when you can say what you want and not feel guilty, right?

I wanted to do the park/picnic thing again.  Keep it simple.  I wanted to spend that lovely time with my family, and then go to the movie theater alone later in the day.  I love to do that. 

My husband can be moody, which is only becoming more apparent as he gets older.  I wonder about it sometimes.  Is it hormones?  Is it a male monthly cycle?  I have heard of this.  It seems that about once a month, for a few days to a week, my husband is in a funk.  Moody.  But, whatever.  I’m a moody bitch too.  I get it. 

Well, my husband has been moody, and I started to worry.  Is he mad at me?  Have I done something wrong?  Does he not like me anymore?  These are typical thoughts I have when he is moody because I am, unfortunately, constantly more likely to error on the side of insecurity. 

This morning, he was acting short with me because he wanted to do something more fun than just going to the nearby park.  I thought about it.  I just wanted to keep it simple.  So, I stuck to my guns, reassuring myself, It’s my day.  It doesn’t have to be perfect.  I can pick what I want to do.  Don’t worry about him.

When it became apparent that this mood would follow us to the park, and my husband made one more remark about it, I gave up. 

“Fine!  We’re going to the state park.  Whatever!”  I spent about one minute feeling frustrated about that and then quickly got over it.  I just wanted to be happy and have a good time.  I could be happy at our local park or the state park.  Geesh.  Whatever.

So, we went where my husband wanted to go.  It was great.  It was a good time.  Just what we were looking for.  While we picnicked, my husband asked me if I still wanted to go to a movie.

I said, “I don’t know.  I may just want to relax at home.  I don’t think I feel like going now.”

My husband replied, “Well, if you’re not going to go anywhere, then I’m going to get out and do something.”

I didn’t say anything.

We got home and prepped my son for his nap.  We had pushed him past his time, and he was tired and hot and cranky. 

My husband, as well, was tired and hot and cranky.  Or, something.  I said, “Are you ok, honey?” 

“Ugh, I’m just not feeling right,” he said with a sour note in his voice. 

As his companion for the last 14 years, and by the tone in his voice, I knew this meant he was just in a bad mood.  I already knew it.  I just wanted him to know that I could notice it.  A lot.  And I was starting to feel a little…resentful that this is how others were behaving on MY Mother’s Day.  Out of the three of us – my son, my husband, and myself – which is the child?

My husband took my son upstairs for his nap.  I could hear my son upstairs starting to yell for me.

“Mommy!  Mommy!  Come upstairs!”  he was screaming. 

I could hear my husband and son in the midst of a battle.  My son was trying to leave his room to get to me.  My husband had blocked the door.  My son was screaming and crying.

I knew this would take a very, very long time to ever settle down, and by that time, it would be very late.  I thought I would go up there and put him to bed, no big deal. 

I came in the room and told my son to get in bed.  He got in bed, calm.  I looked at my husband.

“It’s fine, I’ll do it,” I said.

My husband left and as he was starting to shut the door, he muttered, “Let’s just REINFORCE it.”

I stood there, angered that he was now mad at me.  I shook it off, got some books and climbed into bed with my boy to put him down for nap.

Now, here I am.  In my room, in my bed, typing while my boy takes his nap in the next room.  Without saying goodbye, my husband has left to go on a hike. 

Happy Mother’s Day.

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This is the seventh Anonymous Submissions post here at 2 Much Testosterone! Do you have something you want to get off your chest and want to do so anonymously? Email me at lotsOspermies@live.com and I'll get that going for you.

My Husband Does

I feel really bad for my husband. I've been suffering this depression for 26 months but he's suffering it too. He has to go through all the ups and downs and I'm sure from his angle, the appearance is ugly. Maybe even uglier than my view, I'm not sure. 

I don't know how it feels to ask a question and have the response be a blank stare because that person has no idea what to say. My husband does. 

I don't know how it feels to have to make all the decisions because my better half can't make any. My husband does.

I don't know how it feels to spend night after night alone because my better half is zonked out on medication. My husband does.

I don't know what it's like to see my significant other in tears a lot of the time and not know the right words to say to make the tears stop flowing. My husband does. 

My husband puts up with a lot of bullshit. I'm thankful for what he takes on. I know it must be difficult to hear a lot of what comes out of my mouth. As a man, he wants to fix what is wrong with his woman and he can't. It must eat him up inside. 

I'm trying. I feel like giving up most of the time but I'm still trying even if it doesn't appear so. But mostly I have nothing left in me. I'm hollow. I'm like the hollow fucking chocolate rabbit from Easter that nobody bought because the solid ones are so much better.

Liking Me

Before I became pregnant with boy #3 I was in great shape. I worked out just about every day. I even woke up at 5am to get my workout in before work. I was crazy for keeping myself looking and feeling healthy all while enjoying sweet treats on the side. 

I worked out for about 2-3 months into my pregnancy. I actually didn't know I was pregnant for a while and kept on going but was burning out quick. Then I found out and it all made sense. Since I was healthy prior to getting pregnant I got the okay to stick with what I was already doing as long as I was comfortable. I just wasn't able to make it stick because I was so short winded.

I kept up with prenatal yoga right through till the end. I was able to modify the moves as my belly grew and it felt great the entire time. 

Then I gave birth and I ate when I could and went for walks on occasion. Eventually I went back to work {right around 8 weeks postpartum} and that's when the depression sunk in. When I am depressed I eat. 

I started back up with working out months later and even began eating better but the depression just wouldn't stay away, and so here I am today. I am weighing in at just about the same amount I was when I gave birth, maybe 10 pounds less. I only gained about 35-40 pounds during my pregnancy because I was careful, yet now? I can't seem to find the ooomph I need to get back on the damned wagon! 

I lost 20 pounds after giving birth within about a month but then I got stuck. My thyroid was jacked and I couldn't get it regulated. And so my weight climbed once again.

I want to look better. I obviously would give just about anything to be comfortable in my smaller clothes but feeling better is what I'm really after. I feel good when I eat right and move my body. The depression still comes but I am able to banish it by at least half when I get a good run in. Oh how I miss my running!

I was doing really good with the Couch to 5K running plan. At the end of March, my family ran a 5K together. I walk/ran-half and half. I was almost able to run for 30 straight minutes and then you know what happened? It got all hot here in Florida. Stupid weather. There's no way I could pull off a mid-afternoon lunch time run and go back to work after all in an hours time. It would have been gross. So I up and stopped. I'm such an idiot.

So here I sit. I sit here dreaming about all the workout DVDs I own and my Wii Fit in the living room. Then I think about what I can eat instead and I do nothing about it. I need to get out of this funk. I read on another blog in the recent past about finding the motivation. If we're just not completely ready it's just not going to happen, is it? I'm ready in my heart but mentally and physically, I don't think I can do it. 

This isn't about swimsuit season. I could care less about wearing a swimsuit even though I live near the beach. This isn't even about wearing less. It's about liking me again. Liking me in my own skin. If I like me, maybe the depression would dwindle a bit too?

What the hell is wrong with me? I need a push!

Under Le Pier

My book, a beach mat & a drive over the bridge to a heavenly little spot beneath the pier...

The view from below...

I got my feet wet for this one...

To my left...

The tide said, "Time to relocate!"

Anonymous Submissions - - I "Saved" Myself for Marriage

My hubby and I were together 5 years before we got married at ages 23 and 22. And despite a lot of passion and a lot of hot making out, we kept the clothes on and the hands and mouths away from private areas and the genitals apart until we were married.

And it was one of the hardest effing things we'd ever done.

Because we had a physical relationship. Oh, boy did we have a physical relationship. And I regularly...um...well...let's just say I was very satisfied with our physical relationship.

What can I say? We were creative while staying true to our lines.

We got married and finally, finally could have sex. We had been putting so much energy into avoiding it for so long, and now we could finally let the barriers fall and just enjoy each other!

We undressed each other for the first time on our honeymoon.

We fell into bed together. Kissing. Touching. Exploring.

Trying to have sex.

Yes, you read that right. Trying.

It wasn't until our third day that we achieved penetration. And it was not from lack of trying.

Nor from lack of communication. We were, and are, very open about sex. Talking before, during, and after about what we need when it's needed.

Finally we achieved it and went on to enjoy our honeymoon.

After it wasn't as fun for me as making out had been. No....satisfaction. That was part of it.

But it was also physically uncomfortable. Painful. I felt like I was tearing..and then my hoo-hah would sting for a day or two after. And the actual experience was overwhelmingly uncomfortable. But I figured it was just part of figuring things out. After all, we were new to this, surely we just needed lots of practice!

I mentioned it to my GYN at my next checkup almost a year later when she asked how sex was going. She agreed we probably just needed practice. I was shocked that my pap smear, which I remembered from my virgin days as being almost unbearably uncomfortable, was nothing, easy, relative to sex.

We kept trying. But it got harder. When something is physically painful your brain starts to try to protect you from it. I would passively avoid sex. Often by avoiding my husband. It was very hard to get me turned on in any way. We would get close and the fear would kick in, because even though the pain wasn't major, it was always there. And it was overwhelming enough that I simply could not get pleasure from sex. The pain and discomfort took up all of my mind and sensation.

Well-meaning friends who knew we had waited until marriage would tease us all the time about our sex life (good-naturedly). Single friends would say seriously they were jealous they couldn't have sex regularly like we could. I enjoy books with some type of romantic subplot in there, and of course no romance is complete without some mind-blowing sex and the main character discovering how great it is. Every time something like this would come up, it would slam me in the gut. I wanted to enjoy sex. We were doing everything right. Talking, trying, using lube, etc. So why was it so consistently bad? It wasn't fair! I spent evenings crying about wanting to enjoy a physical relationship with my hubby, but being too scared of the discomfort of sex to want to initiate anything for fear it might lead there (he was fine with it not, I felt guilty).

The next year I went back to the same GYN, and she asked if things had gotten better. I said no. Thank goodness I had a GYN who would ask and discuss these things.

She sent me to a physical therapist.

Not just any physical therapist.

A physical therapist who specialized in pelvic floor work.

I had no idea such a person existed. It had never occurred to me to seek that out. I thought there was nothing to be done. I hadn't even really realized there was something actually wrong. After all, you always hear about women who are or end up "too loose" to enjoy sex, or guys who are too small to pleasure them as a problem. You never really hear about women who are too tight.

I went to physical therapy for almost six months.

About halfway through, I had sex without discomfort for the first time. More than 2 years into my marriage.

Afterwards, I wanted to cry. Tears of relief. Tears of joy.

Now I could give this to my husband, this important physical connection that women are constantly told they must give to their husband regularly to be good wives (I'm assuming the once or twice a month we were down to wouldn't have counted as "regularly." Especially given how (not) into it I was). Now, maybe eventually I could even get something positive from it myself.

It took more work. It will continue to. But a few weeks ago, I graduated from physical therapy.

Sex is still not easy. We both have to be very careful, especially at certain times. But if we are, then sex is usually neutral for me at worst.

Neutral I can handle. Especially since my magic wand helps take me to fantabulous after ;-)

Things continue to improve. My relationship with my husband is improving again. I'm not avoiding him out of a subconscious fear anymore. I am even starting to look forward to and initiate sex for myself.

Every woman deserves a sexual relationship free from pain and discomfort. I didn't think I had a problem, because I could handle it. I wasn't crying out in pain (usually). It just was bad enough to make the whole experience bad.

I hate to think where we'd be now if my GYN hadn't sent me to that physical therapist.

I don't think this is that common a problem. But I also think it's often just not talked about.

If you have pain or discomfort with intercourse, if you feel like you are tearing, if you can't relax because the negative sensations are too strong, talk to your doctor. Ask for a referral to a PT who specializes in pelvic floor.

It changed my life.

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This is the sixth Anonymous Submissions post here at 2 Much Testosterone! Do you have something you want to get off your chest and want to do so anonymously? Email me at lotsOspermies@live.com and I'll get that going for you.