One Panic Attack at a Time

Before my mid-twenties, I was a fairly healthy person. Sure, I have a chronic stomach problem that I’ve had since I was a toddler, but aside from that, I rarely got sick. There were a bunch of little annoying things, but I ignored them - since a doctor didn't know, that meant they weren't a problem, right?!  Then I went from 112 pounds to 187 in about a year. I was one of those people who never went to the doctor. When I had trouble getting pregnant, that changed. My gynecologist questioned my weight gain. I assumed it was genetics - my mom had also gone from skinny to not-so-skinny in her twenties. Come to find out, I have hypothyroidism and polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) – both make you gain weight, both make it very difficult to conceive. Suddenly all the little annoying health problems I’d ignored and written off as bad luck or being paranoid made sense. Depression, abdominal pains, sporadic menstrual cycles, brain fog, and quite a few more. All thing

Photo by  Chris Arock  on  Unsplash I’ve had to speak to a lot of people today. If you’ve followed my blog at all, you know I have a hard time dealing with people in general – my social anxiety is pretty severe. Well, I work at a college, and today is the first day of the fall semester. So whenever I leave the safety of my basement office, there are students everywhere trying to figure out where to go. I have absolutely no problem helping people. I love to help people. But every time they ask me where something is, I have a moment of panic because I honestly don’t get out of my office a lot, and I don’t know where a lot of stuff is around campus. So far I’m pretty sure I haven’t gotten anyone lost. Okay, mostly sure. There was one woman who I helped more than I intended. I was walking outside to take a break. There’s a little area at the far end of the building where there isn’t a lot of foot traffic and there are pretty flowers – a nice spot to hide for a fe

Photo by  Martin Adams  on  Unsplash My children started the new school year today. Yesterday I took the day off from work to stay home with them, not only to save on insane childcare costs, but also to have one last day of fun with them before they go back to school. We had a great day. We went swimming and had a great time. Then in the evening, we went to the open house at their school so they could meet their teachers. The kids’ father pointed out that he doesn’t know why I put myself through these things. He doesn’t think it’s necessary to go to the open house. They’ll find out who their teachers are on their first day, it’s a waste of time and energy. Part of my anxiety is over-preparing for EVERYTHING. I’m that person who obsessively researches every single aspect when buying a new car; who makes lists and starts preparing months in advance when planning a vacation. So when it comes time for the kids to start school each year, I buy all the school suppli

Photo by  Piron Guillaume  on  Unsplash I am terrified of my children’s extracurricular activities. I’m torn because on one hand, I want them to socialize more than I did when I was in school. I want them to participate and build friendships and learn skills. Unfortunately, that involves me socializing, and that has kept me from signing them up for quite a bit. When my 6-year-old son said he wanted to join Cub Scouts, there was no question in my mind that I would let him. Yes, I was filled with every possible “what-if” scenario, but I knew this was something I had to let him do. My son is a smaller version of me. He’s incredibly shy and has many of my anxieties. I know Cub Scouts teaches so many good life skills and this would be a wonderful opportunity for him to form friendships. So, I sucked up my anxieties and signed him up. I’ve been fortunate that his father or my boyfriend have been able to take him to most of the events. Last weekend, I failed him. It was the