ALARM SET FOR 7:00am
5:30 - Wake up
5:31 - Well, I’ve got another hour and a half, so I’ll go back to sleep.
5:32 - Sleep, dammit!
5:33 - 1:27 minutes til alarm goes off.
5:34 - Is alarm even on?
5:35 - Paranoid out of mind, check alarm. Hmm. Okay, it’s on.
5:40 - 1:20 minutes til alarm…I should sleep…
5:42 - Is alarm even on?
5:45 - Paranoid, check alarm. Okay. It’s on.
5:47 - What if somehow the alarm doesn’t go off and I wake up at noon?!
5:48 - Not like it will matter, since I’m not asleep to begin with.
6:00 - Mrrhh!!!! I have to wake up in one hour!!!
6:01 - pleasefallasleep pleasefallasleep pleasefallasleep
6:02 - Falling asleep just as soon as I check my alarm again.
6:03 - Okay. It’s set.
6:07 - Wait. Did I set it for radio or buzzer?
6:08 - Better make sure the radio station is coming in clearly and volume is up.
6:10 - Okay. All set. Time for sleeping.
6:16 - Hey, what is that? Is that a spider on the ceiling or just a shadow?
6:17 - I think it moved.
6:18 - [squinting at spot on ceiling, concentrating very hard]
6:19 - No, definitely did not move. Shadow. Sleeping now.
6:20 - Ahh yes, sleepity sleep. Sleep sleep sleep. Sleep-o-rama. Sleeptastic.
6:21 - The Sleepmeister.
6:24 - Is the alarm set?
6:25 - What if the power goes out and alarm doesn’t go off?
6:26 - Better set cell phone alarm, just in case.
6:29 - Okay. Now I’m really ready.
6:30 - Mrrhhh!!! I have to wake up in 30 minutes!!!
6:31 - determined to close eyes, sleep, take advantage of last 29 minutes
6:32 - determined to close eyes, sleep, take advantage of last 28 minutes
6:33 - determined to close eyes, sleep, take advantage of last 27 minutes
6:34 - determined to close eyes, sleep, take advantage of last 26 minutes
6:35 - determined to close eyes, sleep, take advantage of last 25 minutes
WATCH THIS. WATCH THIS. WATCH THIS. (especially those of us with anxiety)
F**k Yeah Anxiety Disorders of the Day: Catalina Ferro delivers a hilarious ode to the anguish of anxiety at the NYC Urbana Poetry Slam back in June — her Anxiety Group is intensely funny, and probably hits home for way more than are willing to admit it.
I had a panic attack; brought on by the overwhelming anxiety that Hannah was coming over for dinner.
Hannah. One of my closest friends in the world. My roommate for two years. The woman who helped change my appendicitis bandages. A person who’s been a positive presence in my life since I moved to this city…HANNAH, who doesn’t have a judgmental bone in her body, just coming over for dinner caused me to panic. Like, really, heartstoppingly, panic.
This is how it goes. Chronic anxiety is something I struggle with every single day. Fortunately with time, I’ve learned to keep it (mostly) at bay. However, this isn’t always the case.
My rational self, the one who most of you (the interwebs) know, can get locked so deep inside the solitary confinement of anxiety riddled depression that I can’t even see how irrational the fears that grip me actually are.
Depression is a slippery little sucker. The thoughts and the darkness, the sheer and utter self loathing feels so…justified. So…organic. So real. It plays on my insecurities…the nerdy self-awareness, my mutilated nails, the paralyzing fear of losing myself and my ambitions to “becoming corporate”. It puts on such a spectacular showing that I am unwaveringly goaded into believing the judgment and loathing are coming from the outside, rather than within.
I’ve hid under humor and bottles of wine. I’ve felt ashamed. I’ve sobbed that I was still an epic loser with nothing to show for my life. I flagellated myself for letting down those around me, all the while letting them drift further and further away, under a darkness that was threatening to take me down like a tidal wave.
Asking for help (now over 5 years ago) was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Letting go of the denial and terrible feelings I’d stuffed was so hard and physically painful at times. Adjusting to medication, explaining my illness to others and learning my triggers is still an uphill climb.
That said, I got help. And you can too. Depression and anxiety might make you feel like you’ll never find your way out, but you will. I promise, no matter what that nasty little voice inside your head is saying, you will feel better.
Give her a large, not-decaffeinated, cup of coffee, a bottle of Clorox bleach and a scrub brush.
I swear by all things holy, by the end of today, there will not be ONE GODDAMN BIT of bacteria in my house. NOT ONE.