Home > Child, Half-Assing It, Knitting, Mental Status Updates, Random Weirdness, Store, Things you'd never let your friends do if you loved them, This is what happens when you let me out in public, World of Warcrack, Writing > Catapults are for people who are too damned lazy to fling themselves through the air using more creative methods.

Catapults are for people who are too damned lazy to fling themselves through the air using more creative methods.

So, I’m sitting here trying to figure out what to write and I’ve been out of meds for my anxiety for over 24 hours.  I’ve had anxiety disorder since 2006 (possibly longer, but that’s the year that I started showcasing the crazy for public consumption).  I’ve gone through different meds and therapy options, within my limited income, and finally found a medication that works better than anything else I’ve tried.  Unfortunately, it’s very expensive, which often results in me going without and becoming a hermit until the meds can be bought.

Unmedicated anxiety disorder is like being shoved naked into the path of oncoming traffic: you’re not sure you’ll survive the day, but your dignity is now up for grabs.

Most of my coping mechanisms revolve around the important principles of distraction and self-delusion.  I’ve gotten fairly good at both.  Unfortunately, my distractions vary wildly, and frequently, depending on the amount of unmedicated stress that has just hit me in the face.  This would be why I have trouble blogging sometimes… you try to write when you’re head-underwater and have developed a level of anxious paranoia reserved for fugitives and politicians’ mistresses.

Tomorrow is one of my husband’s paydays, though, so we should be able to refill my prescription in the morning.  Today, I plan to do what I can to vent steam… I have come up with the following list of activities to (hopefully) provide catharsis and stave off panic attacks:

  1. Finish a knitting/crochet project or two. ~  I always feel better when I get that “Hah! See what I just did, bitches?” high.  You know what I’m talking about.
  2. Clean the house until I pass out from heat exhaustion.  ~  Usually reserved for times of utmost pissiness, housecleaning is something I do to give myself time to think, calm down, and silently plot the deaths of those who oppose me.  I can get pretty creative with a bottle of Clorox wipes and a toaster.  Do not fucking test me.
  3. Play World of Warcraft.  ~ I figure, after I teach Siobhan how to forage for her lunch and afternoon snack, and tie a hospital-grade adult diaper to her ass, that’ll buy me somewhere in the ballpark of six hours to pretend I’m a gun-shooting werewolf on a vendetta against anything that moves.  (Also, fake money is like crack for people who have no real money. My werewolf can sell a moldy pair of boots for two gold pieces.  I can’t sell a pair of earrings for ten bucks.)
  4. Finish unpacking until back gives out.  ~  I plan to turn this into a game, to keep it interesting.  I love my husband, but rearranging his face because all the unpacking has been left to me while he’s at work has become a favorite fantasy of mine the last two days.  I think I should unpack on the principle of counter-intuition:  socks in the junk drawer, junk in the pillowcase, deoderant in the vacuum, vacuum in the dresser, anti-depressants in the spice rack, and craft supplies in the underwear drawer.  It’ll be like a treasure hunt of awesome!
  5. Paint murals on the neighbors’ cars.  ~  I’ve given this one a lot of thought.  I’m fairly certain our next door neighbor’s kids would love a Tardis hiding in the Metreon Cascade on the windshield.  No one will ever see them coming.
  6. Teach Siobhan how to game with the best.  ~  This one could prove difficult, as the Wii remote makes me seem like I haven’t played Mario a day in my life.  I used to rock that shit every Sunday at Marie Calendar’s while my parents waited for a table.  Like hell I can’t goomba-stomp with the best!  However, tradition holds that whatever I think I’m good at, my daughter will be better.  She was playing Street Fighter 4 on her daddy’s arcade-style fight stick when she was a year old.  Ergo, training her early ensures that she’ll kick Justin Wong’s ass by the time she’s five.
  7. Write a book.  ~  On a slightly more serious note, I’m actually kicking around ideas for geeky pattern books in my head… I’ve got at least two knitting books, a nonfiction plot line, and a fiction plot line kicking around in my head.  Whether or not I can write on any of them remains to be seen.
  8. Create more stuff for my store. ~  If you haven’t been to my store yet, for shame.  It’s not got much in there yet, though, so the ritual floggings will be suspended.  The problem with this plan, though, is that it means digging through random unpacked crap in search for more random unpacked crap with which to make stuff.  I’ll reserve this for the moment before I kill someone in the face.
  9. Poke at fellow bloggers on Twitter for shits and giggles.  ~  It always makes me feel better when I can make someone spit-take on their monitor, or just run screaming into the night from the horrifying mental imagery.  Honestly, I consider either a win.  (Spit-taking is considerably better for site traffic, however, so we’re aiming for that…)
  10. Teach Siobhan to yodel.  ~  Dignity is overrated.  I figure if I teach her an interesting skill, she’ll make a killing as a street performer.  Of course, it would have been easier if I’d had twins, so I didn’t have to contend with child performer labor laws… Maybe I should teach her pickpocketing instead…
  11. Exercise. ~ There’s a reason this is at the bottom of the list.  It’s too fucking hot to do it.  However, the Wii is set up, and I haven’t touched Wii Fit in months… if it gets cooler, maybe…

 

What do you think?  Any other ideas for distracting one’s self from anxiety issues?

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  1. September 9, 2011 at 3:25 pm

    That sucks! Sorry about the lack of drugs. My coping options depend largely on having older kids but here goes: bury myself in a good book, bury myself in ridiculous TV (currently Dr. Who but YMMV), eat my weight in carbs, mix myself a White Russian and enjoy with ridiculous TV, pet cat, plan sewing projects, repair or revamp clothing, pet cat again, do laundry, pick up stuff, sew, surf internet.

    When my kids were younger, I used an hour (or a little longer) at the park to wear them out, then plunked them in front of a movie. Peace and quiet for at least an hour and a half. Worth a try.

    • September 20, 2011 at 9:58 am

      So, I brainfarted again and forgot about this comment for the last 11 days. Oddly enough, I didn’t forget you commented, just that it existed.

      Don’t ask for details, they’ll just confuse you harder.

      And Doctor Who is epic!awesome. Husband turned me on to it (after he introduced me to it) a few years back and has been scared of my rabid love affair with the series ever since…

      I’m currently trying to steer clear of liquor (my dad’s side of the family apparently has a very high tolerance for alcohol/drugs/midget porn — okay, I’m guessing about the midget porn, but it would certainly explain a few things — so addiction is too easy for us), but I must admit to painting a fleet of Tardii.

  2. September 20, 2011 at 9:20 am

    I have bargain-rate, creepy-Indian-guy-sitting-in-a-basement-assuring-me-that-they-wont-put-me-on-ice-and-harvest-my-kidneys-if-I-get-sick insurance from some joke company that may or may not actually exist. Seriously, bank of america puts a hold on my debit card EVERY MONTH when they charge me, because this company is so skeezy. So needless to say, therapy and anxiety meds are not exactly in the cards right now.

    Instead, I just stalk Noa and Devon Sawa on Twitter (am I the only one who watched Little Giants on REPEAT for about 3 summers?) and eat lots of chocolate. Seems to do the trick for me.

    • September 20, 2011 at 10:01 am

      Yes. I stalk Noa regularly.

      I’m not sure whether or not she’s actually called the cops yet, or if she’s waiting to see if I explode as a matter of scientific curiosity…

      As for Devon Sawa, he’s all yours. I stalk Felicia Day and threaten her with socks.

  3. September 21, 2011 at 1:12 am

    Did you get your meds?

    • September 21, 2011 at 9:20 am

      No. 😦 (Well, I managed to scrounge enough together for meds on the weekend, but then I was out again and I’ve had a rollercoaster of shaking hands, racing/stuttering heartbeat, breathing issues, and crying jags ever since. Ain’t anxiety grand?

      Nothing in Etsy store is selling, either, although my friend placed an order for 6 pair of earrings that are due to be picked up today. That should help until I can figure something else out (hopefully).

      But yeah. I’m really not a flaky bitch on purpose… it’s anxiety and the resulting social awkwardness that keeps me on an irregular cycle of who I’m paying attention to at any given moment. 😦

  1. September 9, 2011 at 6:26 am

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