Here we go again 

You know. As many appointments as I’ve been through, as many posts as I make, as much as I talk about anxiety….I still feel weak when I bring it up to the doctor. 

My fear has all but completely taken over my brain. I have a panic attack walking the ten feet from my front door to the car in the morning. I have a panic attack putting my son in the car seat and my back is to open air, vulnerable and completely unprotected. I have a panic attack when patients get irrationally upset over the small things and my brain just goes:

Yep. They’re gonna come back with a gun and put holes all in these walls…

Every time a patient walks through the door with their hands in their pocket and even a slightly disgruntled face, my stomach sinks to my toes. I have a panic attack on the road when there’s a car next to me, be it at a stop light or in moving traffic. Oh and my personal favorite?? The panic attacks that come for no reason at all. Heavy chest, shallow breathing, headache, sweaty palms, tension throughout my entire body. 

It’s all suuuper fun.

And while normally, I’d be a stubborn ass and ignore it for the most part, I don’t think I can this time. I wake up exhausted. I work through the day exhausted. I come home, you got it, exhausted. And when I walk through the front door and see my tiny little miracle beast bouncing in his little chair and squealing with excitement, I want to sit and enjoy my time with him. But it’s 630 and this girl is already ready to pass out right there on the living room floor. 

And yeah yeah, I get it. Welcome to parenthood. Which would be a fair argument if this were new since having my son. But it’s not. The only thing new is that I have a reason and a desire to fight that exhaustion, to ignore it or tell it to go to Hell, I’m gonna hang out with my son. 

So! Back to my original point. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I need help. But no matter how comfortable I am with my anxiety, sitting in that exam room and answering the question “so what are you here for today?” makes me feel weak and broken. It makes me feel like I’ve somehow failed at completing some goal I’ve had buried in my subconscious. 

But I’m so tired. And tired of being tired. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder. I’m tired of thinking they didn’t text me back because I’m a pest and they’re tired of me. I’m tired of the over analyzing and the paranoia and the pain and the emotional roller coaster I put myself on for nothing

I’m over it, y’all. I’ll keep you posted. 

Stay weird XOXO ❤️

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. lizzylamper says:

    Getting help doesn’t mean your broken or weak it really means your strong. It’s the hardest thing I ever had to but it’s worth it. It’s worth it for your son and a better life with him. I love you and I’m always here for you.

    Like

    1. Thank you friend. Love you!!

      Like

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