Daily Archives: June 4, 2018
One of the problems with the term depression is that it is often understood as a specific thing, when it is actually a generic name. Depression is like the word ‘animal’. You can say animal and have an idea of what it means. You can even describe it to great detail: small, hairy, four legged […]
So anyone who even occasionally reads a post here has probably noted that I blend words to create new terms that actually aren’t legit psychiatric terms (yet). Inspired by my daughter’s love for My Little Pony and constant recitation of Pinky Pie’s term ‘nervous-cited (nervous but in an excited way)…And based on my prior coinage of the term panxiety (anxious paranoia), I am now declaring ‘panxious’ an applicable term for some states of mind. Anxiety with a twinge of paranoia, and not the kind where you wear a tinfoil hate to ward off the government trying to read your thoughts via your microwave or whatever.
Panxiety is random but plentiful in my world. Today, I think, ‘panxious’ it more accurate. I have nothing bad going on. My kid is even taking a self imposed break from playing with her friend so in spite of annoying me, it’s pretty much the norm. I warded off my dad’s faction by saying she was grounded for being rude to her little friend C, and it’s true. I am more willing to be the bad guy and ground my kid than let her keep telling that 5 year old how he does everything wrong and she’s sick of him and doesn’t want to be his friend. Because I know my kid and an hour after her declarations, she will start fussing about missing him and I am willing to be the bad guy ‘grounding’ her so his feelings aren’t hurt and the friendship harmed by her knee jerk mood swings and harsh words. Flip side, I know inevitably I will get a text asking if he can play and I do have trouble saying no and being the bad guy. Clusterfuck, I know.
I think what set off today’s panxious state is that we woke up (oh, man I slept like a log last night, complete with bizarre dreams and a couple of wake ups, but…it was good) my daughter asked if I’d been in her room touching her back, then she asked why there was a bag of newspapers on my computer cart. And it only meant one thing: While we were sleeping in this morning, my half brother went ahead and came inside to leave the papers and check on her. Not only is this super creepy and he’s been told not to walk in even if the door is unlocked…in his simple mind (emotionally a ten year old, with a major porn fetish) I am sure he saw it as letting us sleep in and being kind. But my kid was sleeping in a shirt and her undies and half the time, I do too, so the invasion of our privacy is just uncool. I shouldn’t have to live on lock down because this 23 year old doesn’t grasp basic manners. I’ve talked to dad and his mom about it and…they lecture him but it never changes.
So someone just coming into your home while you and your child are asleep seems like an appropriate reason to feel super paranoid and anxious. And Spook was horrified that he could have seen her in her undies, so that’s another reason his barging in is unacceptable. Her home is her safe space and he has no right to invade it and make her uncomfortable and embarrassed. I rarely locked the doors at the trailer park and people didn’t just walk on in, so I didn’t think it’d be a big deal in Armpit. Wrong. Family is toxic at times.
But while that may have been the trigger…the panxious feeling isn’t dying down. I still feel edgy, like any minute the door is going to burst open or there will be a knock (landlord really wants his security deposit and I can’t pay water and insurance and buy food all in one two week period, so that’s another stressor). Ringing phones are always a major trigger. (I watched a show the other day that tried to explain the difference between triggers and stressors, but um, yeah, my mind didn’t retain any of it, so if I am using them wrong, my bad.) I am very uncomfortable with paranoid thoughts because it’s never been my default. And it’s not even legit paranoia where I do have on a tinfoil hate warding off the government or thinking people are out to kill me. It’s just this unsettling ‘bad juju’ feeling. Panxious.
I am gonna ride it out and hope it dissipates over the day. Xanax should help, but I never feel good about taking it. (Thanks a lot, Xanax abusers.) Maybe later I can do a more positive, less neurotic post. While taking a ride on my pegacorn, solving world peace, and learning to love the taste of mayonnaise.
Yeah, pegacorn ride and world peace are far more likely than me liking mayo. That stuff is narsty.
So of course, my kid loves it.
Maybe I should put on a foil jumpsuit, just in case she’s out to get me.
Figure as long as I can mock my own irrational mental states, it means the depression hasn’t robbed me of my humor.