Spike's Bitches 48: I Say, We Go Out There, and Kick a Little Demon Ass.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Totally unrelated to the kitty, I am having a totally inexplicable anxiety spike today. I mean, I'm fine, I don't need hairpats or reassurance; I'm mostly annoyed because I don't know what kicked it off. (When my anxiety is mild enough for me to be annoyed by it, I know it's not too bad.)
Still. What the shit, though. When it has a reason, at least it makes sense.
I hate the random attacks, I end up cycling through ever more ridiculous reasons for why I'm anxious. The anxiety gremlins never believe me when I say "Look, idiots, it's misfiring brain chemicals, knock it off!" "No, no, I'm sure that weird creak the car made two days ago means a tire's about to fall off!" Stupid brain weasels.
Steph, is there any chance it could be hormones, relating to the failed IUD placement? For me I can frequently trace those attacks back to hormones, forgetting meds, low blood sugar, dehydration, or too much caffeine. Because I am a delicate fucking flower.
Steph, is there any chance it could be hormones, relating to the failed IUD placement?
Maybe. I had the last Mirena removed at the beginning of December, and since it releases a low level of a progestin hormone, but now that's gone, I could be adjusting to the lack of that hormone.
I too am a goddamn delicate flower. But a little bit of Ativan filed the edges off the anxiety. For now.
smonster, I applaud your maturity. Here's hoping for your roommate acting like a grown-up.
Zen, is it wrong that I'm enjoying this new saga of you and Mailman, given how you got to partake of my Comic Book Store Guy ramblings when you were here?
Not at all! I may chicken out but it's fun anyway.
Thank god I can afford to live alone.
Every day I'm grateful. There have been times when I'd have done better financially if I'd shared living expenses, but it was the very last option on the list, behind "live in my sister's attic."
I have a Slinky kitty now too. I named her that because she slinks under the bushes and disappears. She's a black slinky cat too.
I too am a goddamn delicate flower. But Effexor seems to be doing the trick for my jittery little brain.
I just got a text - the people who were scheduled for 4 am are now scheduled for 7 am. I said I'd try to make it but anything that kind of melted is covered over with snow and it's still coming down.
I didn't park my car down by the road... so maybe or maybe not able to get out to the road on Sunday... Oh well nothing I can do about it now but wait and see.
Stay safe, askye.
Steph, it's a little different than yours, but I believe my own spike in anxiety levels over the last few months is related to the whole perimenopause thing. Sometimes all I can think is, "is this how my mom felt? I'm sorry for being callous to her." (I was 15, and I
felt
like I had a teenaged daughter.) Today I had a minor anxiety attack when Daniel read me a Daily Kos headline. I call it minor because I was able to stop myself from screaming and crying after five minutes without medication.
Maybe. I had the last Mirena removed at the beginning of December, and since it releases a low level of a progestin hormone, but now that's gone, I could be adjusting to the lack of that hormone.
Yeah, it took my brain a fair while to adjust to natural hormonal mood fluctuations. Could be that.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I posted a few weeks back about one of CJ's Search and Rescue mentors who had passed away. I found out tonight that he took his own life. CJ is broken. I'm heart sick. PTSD AND DEPRESSION SUCK BALLS. Sleep is not happening tonight. My own PTSD over my FILs suicide is in full force. In fact, I'm going to go take some anti-anxiety meds right now cause I feel my spine crawling up into my neck.
Ok, done. Gah. I hate this. He was such an amazing man. Depression LIES like a motherfucker. LIES!
I really don't want comfort. I just need a place to rage and rant. I can't do it on FB or with the kids. I'm pretty open with them about how raw I am when it comes to suicide, but they don't need my added pain on top of their own grief. But I refuse to be completely silent because that is even worse.