The Silent Roar

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Anxiety is a terrible thing.  According to the Anxiety Disorders Association of America, approximately 3.3 million adults in America 18 and older suffer from some kind of anxiety disorder.  It came to my mind this evening for a couple of reasons.  School is starting.  Bills are due.  Doctor appointments are looming.  Dentist appointments are looming.  My financial aid hasn't posted yet.  Real estate is slow.  

But is that really what causes anxiety?  It's not the state of things as they are.  It's about the "ifs".  It's about creating scenarios and worrying about situations that may happen.  Taking my examples a step further, let me illustrate:

School is starting and what if the kids don't have all the supplies they need?  What if they don't like their classes?  What if they don't learn anything?  What if something happens at school and I'm not there to help?

Bills are due and what if I can't pay them right away?  How am I going to pay for this?  

Doctor appointments are looming and dentist appointments are looming and what if they don't go well?  What if Logan stims in the waiting room?  What if we have to wait a long time?  

My financial aid hasn't posted yet and what if it doesn't?  What if I can't go to school this semester?

Real estate is slow and what if it doesn't pick up again?  

Do you see?  Anxiety is like a silent roar.  It's a predator that stalks you throughout the day, making you glance nervously over your shoulder, second guessing the path you're on, forcing you to tense up and prepare for an attack that probably is never going to come.  It's a silent roar in your head and a voice that never quiets.  It's a critical sneer on the face of the future...a future you imagine to be fraught with pitfalls and embarrassment.

Everyone has some form of anxiety.  And everyone deals with it a different way.  Usually I run in the opposite direction straight into the arms of happy-go-lucky land.  We may not have enough money to pay bills?  Oh well.  It will work out.  School starts tomorrow?  Thank God.  My financial aid hasn't posted and I may not be able to go to school?  I'll focus more on my job and updating the house.  Doctor appointments are looming, etc?  Well, it's about damn time we got those done.

The other thing I do, when I feel like I'm getting anxious, is I try to stop for a minute and re-focus with a more eternal perspective.  I'm really not the one in control.  Ever.  That's the other half of anxiety.  It's trying to control things you can't control.  And it's a myth that you're in control in the first place.  Everyone's reach is limited.  God's isn't.  And at the end of the day, you really have to let go and give it to Him.  It's hard to do, especially when you have a plan in your head about the way you think things need to go.  But life isn't like that.  Life is not a projectile missile.  It's silly string, people.  It's messy, it's all over the place, and if you don't know how to relax and have a good time, all you're going to see is a disaster every day.  

Oh, and chocolate helps.  

And a Good Time Was Had By All

The hoops that you have to jump through in order to get your autistic child the medication they need are ridiculous.

Logan ran out of his medication a day and a half ago.  The pharmacy told me that the doctor's office didn't submit the refill correctly. The doctor's office said we would have to come in for a well-check before they would refill it.  So we went in for a well-check today.

While we were there, the nurse said that Logan was due for his 11 year vaccinations.  *sigh*  So, as soon as the needle touched his arm, he jumped, and almost broke the needle.  I had to hold him in my lap, restrain his arms, and wrap my leg around his legs and hold on as tight as I could while they gave him the shots.  (Yeah, it was necessary.  He's almost as big as I am and nearly as strong.  No.  You cannot sweet-talk him into getting a shot.  That's like asking a bull to tiptoe through a china shop).

Now, for those of you frowning because I took my child in for vaccinations:

HE ALREADY HAS AUTISM.  I DON'T THINK HE CAN GET IT AGAIN.

(And this, really, is a moot point, since vaccines don't cause this.)

But wouldn't it be funny if his autism went AWAY after this?  I can just see the headline now (probably gracing the front pages of the Onion):

Texas Woman Claims Son's Autism Cured By Vaccinations

Suddenly, everyone would be rushing out to get their kid vaccinated.  Whooping cough would once again disappear from our border cities.  Measles would no longer make an appearance at Disney.   Amazing.

At the very least, he got a lollipop out of the deal.

Yeah.

So, sometimes, even though you want and need to write, there just aren't any words.  

And it hurts.

Book Hangover!

It's Saturday night and I have a book hangover.  

Do you know what that is?  Let me explain.

First of all, the fiction gods smiled down on me after my recent rant about bad horror fiction.  I discovered a new author by the name of Mark Edwards.  He's based out of Great Britain and his books are usually centered around London.  And he's amazing.  He's written Follow You Home, Because She Loves Me, and the very chilling and nerve-wracking The Magpies, which, in my humble opinion, is his best.  

So, I started devouring these books.  I started with Follow You Home, which was incredibly gripping with its tension and twists and turns, and then read the Magpies.  Yesterday I followed up with Because She Loves Me and I read it pretty much all day until I finished it.  Which lead to a book hangover.

A book hangover constitutes that feeling you get when you've read too much, because you can't bear to tear yourself away from that juicy novel.  Tired, grainy eyes.  Aching neck and shoulders.  Perhaps a headache. That bloated feeling from eating a bunch of snacks that you normally wouldn't eat, because they're convenient and you can't be bothered to cook anything while you're in the depths of this fabulous tale.  Irritability, because you don't want to be interrupted while you're reading.  And then guilt.  Because you get to the end of the day and you realize that it's dark outside and you haven't moved your butt more than three feet in any direction and you suddenly understand that you have been reading the entire damned day.

Oh, the hedonism.  The pleasure. The sheer debauchery.  The cheese puffs and the Hershey candy and the pizzas and the root beer.  The homemade guacamole from HEB and the big comfy chair.  Or couch.  I think I gravitated between every comfortable surface in the house today while reading this book.  And you know what?

I'm.  Not.  Sorry.

This is My Circus, and These Are My Monkeys.

The circus is coming to town.

No, seriously, it is.  That's not a metaphor for something else.  Barnum and Bailey is opening in DFW next weekend.  I really, really wanted to go.  My parents used to take me to the Shriners' Circus when I was a kid.  I LOVED it.  Seeing people fly through the air.  The floor, sticky with popcorn and candy and stuff.  Glow in the dark thingies that you can twirl through the air.  Clowns running around, freaking people out, making them laugh out of sheer don't-touch-me-I-have-a-phobia nervousness.  Animals doing tricks for food.  Ringmasters controlling the animals in order not get trampled, eaten, or gored.  The roar of the crowd. Bodies jumping up and down on trampolines...

Oh.

Wait.

Why the heck would I pay for something I can experience from the comfort of my own home?

Seriously.  Tickets at the door, people.

Confessions

Hi, my name is Rachel, and I am thankful that school is about to start.  Because my hair will grow back.  That is all.