go blog yourself.

That's what J.J. said to me about an hour ago - "Go blog yourself." Not a bad suggestion, and definitely better than what I was doing, which was napping. For two straight hours. In the middle of the evening. And trying desperately to wake up, to rise from sleep, but I just kept drifting back off. J.J. was right - I needed to (a) get up, and (b) go write. Oh, and (c) make dinner.

I started with (c).

Yeah, they're strawberry-cake-flavored Rice Krispie treats, and I frosted them and ate a bunch for dinner. Yeah, I also made and ate a batch of these over the weekend. YEAH, SO WHAT?

The helpless napping + the ultra-healthy dinner choice - both are derived from my latest state of being, which, apparently, is Annnxietyyy! (That was said in the Oprah voice. Like when Liz Lemon says to Fake Oprah, "Can you just say 'Liz LEMONNN'?") YIPPEE!

I know, it was a surprise to me, too - that I somehow slipped back into my default setting of anxiety. The thing was, despite two devastatingly shitastic happenings at work last week, and despite the fact that summer camp is looming (= busiest effing time o' the year for me), despite the fact that it's now been almost three months since I saw my therapist...I still thought I was doing all right. Because, hey, summer is here, the weather is beautiful, I've even been running and dancing (don't ask) and riding my bike.

Nevertheless, I woke up last night out of breath and with heart palpitations. AKA, anxiety attack. Which sucks, because I haven't had one of those since - I don't know, a pretty long time ago. And the night before last, I tossed and turned until 3 a.m. It was partly because our house was sweltering, and partly because my stomach was tied in knots at the idea of going back to work after a three-day weekend and facing the unsolvable disasters I'd mentally avoided all weekend.

Excuse me for a moment. I need seconds on dinner. (Slash, thirds and fourths, since I already had firsts and seconds.)

Aaand I'm back. So today, a friend linked from Facebook to this great post about depression, wherein the author reminded me that "depression lies." Which can also be said about anxiety. The trickery, the deceit, the mindfucking: it all happens, by the grace of anxiety. These last couple weeks, it tricked me into thinking the following supersweet notions (each of which are still being debated in my head):

• Any efforts I've made in the last six years towards inclusive programming at work are for naught.
• I don't need to pay attention to my breathing.
• Writing is sooo muchhh worrrk.
• My ineptitude will get the best of me.
• Kitchening sucks balls and I never want to pick up a paintbrush again.
• People who regularly need evening naps and then make frosted strawberry Rice Krispie treats for dinner might have difficulty adjusting to parenthood.
• Also, adulthood.
• Maybe I shouldn't even consider parenthood when things like this exist in the world (watch the video).

And now, folks, watch as this proud Hogwarts grad attempts to magic away each of the doubts clouding her mind.

• Any efforts I've made in the last six years towards inclusive programming at work are for naught. Untrue. Those efforts have benefitted individual kids with special needs, their peers, their families, and the teachers. I can't divulge details here, but I know the rest of the rebuttal in my head.
• I don't need to pay attention to my breathing. Untrue. Any time I even start to breathe deeply, I'm instantly uplifted. The trick is to incorporate it as a preventative measure and not just a secondary or tertiary response.
• Writing is sooo muchhh worrrk. Mostly untrue. Sometimes it's work, but it's the kind of work that's worth it. I don't think it's a coincidence that in the time my journal and my blog have gone untouched, my anxiety has spiked. When I rediscovered my passion for writing, the lights came back on in my life (returnoflight, wut wut). It might seem harder than, say, staring blankly at the same episode of Friends that I just watched two days ago, but it feels so much better during and after.
• My ineptitude will get the best of me. Stay tuned...but I think it's a trick. I think that's one of those statements that I just need to reframe every. single. time it pops up. Because it will - but only if I let it. My strengths are so much more powerful than my ineptitude. And some of my recent failings - like forgetting important details and avoiding scary things - will be assuaged when the anxiety fades a bit.
• Kitchening sucks balls and I never want to pick up a paintbrush again. A definite possibility. But it'll be done someday, right? RIGHT?
• People who regularly need evening naps and then make frosted strawberry Rice Krispie treats for dinner might have difficulty adjusting to parenthood. Untrue. Well, I mean, they might have a hard time adjusting to parenthood, but geez, don't most people? It's an adjustment no matter how you slice it. What I'm really getting at is my deep-seated fear that the anxiety disorder is incompatible with motherhood, which I also know to be untrue. I just need to stay on top of it most of the time, and when I can't? Well, then my kid will be the luckiest frickin' kid on the block, because s/z/he'll get frosted strawberry Rice Krispie treats for dinner.
• Also, adulthood. Untrue. I mean, yes, true in that I've had a hard time adjusting to adulthood, but omg, if you had told 15-year-old me that when adults have a crappy week, they get to respond by snorking up a platter of high-fructose corn syrup and singing their original tune, "Fuck You, Week," with the windows wide open? Yeah, I'd have dug that idea. Adulthood FTW. (Sorry, next-door neighbors.)
• Maybe I shouldn't even consider parenthood when things like this exist in the world (watch the video). Untrue. And know why? Because I can work to raise a child who helps defeat closed-mindedness and bigotry, hatred and terror - even if just by not contributing to those things, but hopefully by actively organizing against them.

Those last two bullet points remind me of two more awesome things, the first being this E-Card. I love it because, hey, parents are people, too - and dysfunction ain't all bad.

...And the second being "Joy or Just Wait?", an absolutely stellar article about the importance of debunking the myth that parenting is a series of never-ending emotional, physical, and financial land mines. That article, in turn, reminded me of my (far less eloquent) musings on joining the League of Eternal Complainers. Speaking of which, I'm feeling pretty positive about parenting lately, though I'm waiting to finish the kitchen first - thought process being that I should maybe not expose my developing fetus to a potent mixture of paint fumes/vinyl off-gassing/floor glue fumes. Just maybe.

Anyway, for now - I'm going to go eat some actual dinner, and then I'm going to go to bed. To breathe, to read, and perchance, to sleep.