So I attempted to go out for a bit last night.  It was a spur of the moment decision around 9pm, that was so rare for me, but for a second my bad-ass side went, “aw come on old lady, it’ll be fun!”  (fucking liar)  Not that it wasn’t fun, I adore my friends and being social, but I have found that I fluctuate, no, I radically swing between, introvert to ambivert, to extrovert and then back again pretty quickly.  So the momentum I had at dry-shampooing my hair, as I clearly wasn’t gonna go so far as to wash it for real, that would’ve been enough time to change my mind… got me out the door with the last chug of my wine… liquid courage.

With in 10 minutes of arriving, I had taken a half of a Xanax and an 800mg Ibuprofen, (splashed with my full Bourbon and sweet tea) so you could say it wasn’t going so great.  IMG_1454It’s soooooo loud in here, I thought. Run. Stay.  I put on a smile, and took the first open seat, pulled my legs to my chest and dove back in to my bourbon.  (and yes, thank you I do know that alcohol can contribute to the madness, now pass me that bottle ya know-it-all) It seems silly, but that’s what it took for me to stay for a bit, instead of run… cus I do love my people, and I miss them and genuinely want to see them.  But, I am also crazy.  Not Crazy Crazy, but just my exaggeration on my mental health issue. Enough to make every cell in my body feel out of control, and like my only option is to bail, abandon ship, get away.  I am glad I got to see them but it didn’t last long.  Be patient with me.  I know it’s a tall order, I am rarely even patient with myself.  I get it.

Anxiety sucks.  Also, waking at 6 (was home by 12ish) with a frenzied heart, numb arms, rapid breathing, sucks.

However, last night I received several heart felt comments on this lil baby blog of mine, and this morning I was tagged in TWO #lovepop posts.  Be still now my lil heart, you are going to be okay.  Lungs you are up, inhale. Brain: you are the only one in control of this air.  You, Tracy, are in control.  Lungs, exhale.  Blood, I command you to get back to the arms!

Side note, does anyone else panic even more when a body part goes numb during sleep, that something really bad is going to happen to said body part?  Maybe it is the mental issue, but I swear I think that something will break, or become distorted while numb, and I won’t know it because I can’t feel it and then I will wake hours later to a twisted, mangled mess for an arm… NO?! Hmmm just the crazy talking, ok then.  Panic on panic… fun!  Like thinking quick sand was going to be a real issue as an adult, when I was little.  My brain has always been the over-thinker… eye roll.

Meant to keep this one short, but their are a million oddities.  These are a couple of mine.

Transparency. Real talk. I may be a mess, but I own that shit at least.