Does anxiety make us do stupid things? Or do our stupid actions cause anxiety?
As I roll around this spastic hamster wheel of my own creation, I realize it probably doesn’t matter. The result is the same. Utter and complete exasperation. Heart-pounding worry. Multiple imagined scenarios of worst cases.
I forgot to order my meds. Again.
Every few months, I find myself staring down the empty bottle neck of my meds.
It shouldn’t sneak up on me like this. My physician, insurance company, and I have a nice, little arrangement for ourselves. She writes the script, they fill it, I retrieve it from the mailbox. Couldn’t be any less painless. Continue reading
Parallel, and at times, intersecting, but to all those save a close few – totally distinct. One hidden from the other; one nonexistent except for the shadow it cast on my life.
When I could get out from under it, it was much easier for even me to pretend that shadow life didn’t exist. I wasn’t suffering. I wasn’t having trouble coping. I didn’t need help. Certainly, no one needed to know about it. Continue reading
You’re cordially invited to Dina Leah’s coming-out party. You might have met her before, but she is painfully shy, and has had to be earnestly convinced to reveal her true identity.
You see, Dina Leah’s life has been tough, and she’s got a lot of fears. One of them is being discovered by her mother, who was terribly cruel to her as a child, and continues to be cruel whenever she gets a chance. So Dina is terrified that her mother would somehow find her (she does know how to use Google), so Dina has built layers of pseudonyms around herself, in an effort to insulate, to build a wall around her identity. Continue reading
An entirely new thing to me. I even blogged about it last year. Or maybe it was a comment on someone else’s blog? I don’t remember. But the sentiment was one of gratitude for never having experienced those crippling moments. Continue reading