My husband tells me I should write about anything and everything.
If I’m honest I have tried to keep a blog in the past. I was always so consumed with writing things that people would enjoy or relate to. Things that were witty or funny or poignant. When I didn’t succeed in that I would just stop writing and move on to something else. I figured, why write if no one is listening. It wasn’t until recently that I discovered that writing is actually pretty therapeutic.
And so here I am. A giant mound of kettle corn on my desk, my husband lightly snoring in the next room and I’m not exactly sure where this post is going to go.
Recently my husband took me to my favorite restaurant for my birthday. We had a beautiful four course meal and I stuffed myself until I was sick because, well, who doesn’t have room for chocolate fondue? I remember feeling so full I could burst. The kind of full where you almost can’t breathe because your stomach is chillin’ up in your lungs.
This is the only way I know of to describe how I feel right now. I feel full up. Not the kind of full up where you are bursting with joy or excitement, but the kind where you are full of something you don’t quite understand.
See, I deal with an extreme case of anxiety. I am certain everyone has felt it at some point. That feeling like you can’t control something, or the tightness in your chest as you imagine the worst outcome. I haven’t quite figured out yet how I stop it or fix it, I only know that it’s there.
Anxiety comes to everyone for different reasons.
My anxiety is a bit like a spaghetti bowl highway in my mind. It comes from many different people, for many different reasons, thanks to a number of circumstances. I have anxiety that is debilitating when it comes to numerous things such as:
• Riding in cars while other people are driving
• People leaving me
• My parents dying
• People not liking me
• Not ever finding my purpose
• That look he gave me… what does that mean?
• His tone is different today. I must have done something wrong…
And that is really just a tony teaser of the daily anxieties I deal with. Its exhausting and I’m certain it is for my husband as well. I have said to him before and I’m sure I will again. I know I am not always the easiest person to love. Yet somehow he does it really well. We have fights and some uglier than others, but big picture? That man loves me pretty darn well through some of the most ridiculous anxiety.
Do you deal with anxiety? What is the thing that seems to work for you?
For me, I just want my husband in some capacity. Sometimes I need him to listen, sometimes to fix things, sometimes advice and sometimes I just need him to hold me. Mainly I just know I need to get home to him.
Here is the real part though.
I don’t know if I’m typing it for me, or for you or for future me but the fact is: People let you down. They just do. Your best friend that always seems to have the right thing to say. One day she isn’t going to say the right thing. Your husband, as kind and as wonderful and as loving as he is… one day your anxiety and your breakdown is going to push him to the point where he yells at you. One day you are going to come home and want him to hold you and he’s going to fail at that. Not because he is mean or a bad husband, but because he is human. It happens.
Best advice I can give is, just forgive. We deserve a breakdown now and then and they deserve to be human.
I feel full up. Full up these days makes me worry… because the full has to go somewhere. The tattoos help a lot. The ink therapy gives the full somewhere to go. That is something I will share more about in another post.
Actual therapy helps. I’ve been seeing a guy, Dr. Baney. He’s pretty great and he has no issue with telling me that my anxiety is real and he hears me, but I need to get my shit under control. I like a no-nonsense therapist. I’m not paying you to sugar coat things after all.
My husband helps. Bless his amazing heart. He makes sure I get my therapy, my ink therapy and as many hugs as he can muster. He is my superman and I’m thankful for him. I also want to say out loud, I know you are human, and I see you and hear you and love you. I know you can’t always fix it all, and I love you regardless.
So where does this take us? My popcorn is half eaten, my coffee is gone and my husband is still snoozing away. I still feel full…but maybe not quite as sick full as before. Writing definitely helps.
For now I guess this post will lead me to bed. Sometimes you just need to curl up and let the full be what it is. I get to wake up tomorrow and try again. That’s the funny thing about tomorrows.