Tuesday, May 10, 2011


I’m going to interrupt Diabetes Blog Week to talk more about myself.  Remember I once considered calling myself the Narcissistic Storyteller.  It’s all about me! 

What a difference a few hours can make.  I was not this chipper a few hours earlier.  I was suddenly overwhelmed with all my many responsibilities and people wanting my attention.  I couldn’t handle it anymore.  When I started yelling at my kids I knew something had to change.  Yes, they were being beyond needy today.  I don’t know why they act fine for me but as soon as their dad is home they turn into sniveling, whining, ornery melted piles of tears, snot and goo.  Seriously!  What is up with that? 

While my kids were having their own rough moments I knew they didn’t deserve my go to response when the stress and anxiety starts rising in me – yelling.  Before I started throwing toys in Gwen’s room out of sheer exasperation that she couldn’t seem to manage to put anything away without staring at it as if she had never seen it before in her life and it was suddenly the most interesting toy on the planet, I turned to Heath and said, “I’m taking Xanax!” and walked out.  He agreed that I probably needed it.  That surprised me.  He has always sort of talked me out of it.  But today I think we both recognized the brewing pattern of my psychosis. 

My eyes stung with tears threatening to spill out.  I loathed myself for having to give in and finally take a pill that has been sitting in my cupboard for these type of situations for a month now.  My brain would not turn off.  The thoughts came a mile a minute and few of them were positive. 

Then the headache hit me like a ton of bricks.  It almost felt like an emotional headache like I had just spent the day crying over things I cannot change.  I was not a fan of the headache.  Soon the headache turned into a wave of exhaustion.  Sleep it off was all I wanted to do right then.  But I had responsibilities at the church activity I helped plan.  Once a month I consider asking to be released from my obligations because it’s too much for me right now.  I feel like a lazy quitter when I entertain those thoughts but it would really save my family the freak show I turn into a week or hours before the activity. 

What did I do?  The only thing I could do.  I took a deep breath and changed my clothes.  Casual chic.  The chicer the better because the nicer I look the better I feel.  If I’m going to be self conscious about anything I don’t want it to be my appearance.  I brushed my hair and my teeth.  Not with the same brush.  I touched up my makeup and smeared lip gloss on.  Perfect.  Nobody would ever guess I was this close to yet another nervous breakdown. 

Then I drove to the church.  I talked to people as if nothing is wrong with me.  As if I’m not silently panicking in the back of my mind about my endocrinologist appointment tomorrow to discuss not only my diabetes management (which is not really any better) but also whether or not the “happy pills” are working.  Heath tells me I need to just be patient with myself.  He’s right but in the heat of the moment it’s hard to remember that I am getting better and better every month and I haven’t been doing my new drugs for that long! 

The clothes were what pushed me back onto the sane side of the fence.  I felt good about how I looked, which is a big deal to me.  Self deprecation is funny for only so long.  I’ve decided to fake it until I make it in the most exaggerated and comical way as I possibly can on this blog.  The best moment was when a friend told me I looked good and asked if I had lost weight.  I told her that I have lost about 20 lbs.  She knows this has been a gradual thing over time but for whatever reason the transformation really stood out to her tonight.  She told me my legs looked long and thin and overall I just looked really good.  Thank you.  Thank you for making my night! 

I was so worried about the Xanax.  I hated myself for having to take it.  I still subscribe to the untrue belief that I can solve my own problems.  I don’t believe in medication.  Funny that I have to take so much of it just to stay alive.  Medication is ok.  I’m trying to learn that anyway.  I’m glad I took the Xanax.  It was a bizarre experience but over about an hour or so the negative voice in my head shut up.  I had the power to pick myself up and keep on going.  Hours after taking the pill that threatened to send me down a shame spiral, I am feeling hopeful again that I can get better.  Eventually my brain will learn to fire correctly and I will be ok.  Diabetes, anxiety, general craziness and all.  Heavy sigh of relief. 

2 thoughts:

Abigail Delphenich said...

You impress me so much, I was in the same boat tonight and I listened to the negative voice and didn't go. I am glad you had fun.

The Piquant Storyteller said...

I'm so sorry Abigail! You impress me. You always seem cool, calm, and collected. I know we've talked but I forget because you seem to deal so well. We'll have to talk later.