Monday, April 7, 2014

The Agoraphobic Returns

This has been one hell of a day.
The best part was when I went to my beloved periodontist's office because I thought that half of my jaw was infected with another bone abscess (or worse, of course, because I am the queen of catastrophic thinking) only to find that the pain and swelling I've been experiencing for a week which is probably what triggered my red-line anxiety was nothing more than some trauma visited upon it by chewing entirely on that side. And that I clench my jaws too much and yeah, I have the TMJ. Whatever.

Can I just say that I do love and will continue to love this doctor and his staff? Especially his staff?
His name is Dr. William T. Baldock, DDS, MS and his phone number is (850) 942-8111.
Okay? Credit where credit is due.
They never, ever say, "Uh, Ms. Moon, you really should seek professional psychiatric help."
No, they just probe gently and say reassuring things and they didn't even charge me today and they always add, "Just call us if anything else comes up!"

But before that, before I stumbled out of the office, drunk on relief, a whole damn day's worth of crap had happened. Oh, nothing really. Just all stuff in my own head. I didn't sleep last night but laid awake quivering in the bed, truly believing that my jaw was decaying and putrefying as I breathed, listening to my husband snore. I got out of bed at daybreak and wildly announced, "I have to go home!" and I packed up my stuff and ate about three ounces of yogurt because that's all my stomach could handle due to the anxiety and took off for home, foregoing the farewell breakfast we were all going to have together. With the key to the suite where we were staying in my purse. Of course. I hugged Brenda and said, "I'm sorry!" and "I love you!" and that was that.
She must think I'm insane.
Oh wait. I AM insane.

The drive home was fine for someone who was trembling the whole way. I didn't stop for coffee (coffee? hahahahahahahaha!) or to pee or for anything. I just drove HOME.
Where I immediately checked on the baby chicks who were fine and who have grown to twice the size they were when I left on Thursday and gave them the corn and sweet potato fries I'd brought home and I picked up and stroked Nicey and then unloaded the car and cleaned up dog pee and dog shit and dog vomit. Then I called the dentist office. Then I took half a Xanax because I was about to come right the fuck out of my skin. Then I took a shower, ate three more ounces of yogurt, and drove to town.
Which, as I said, went fine.
I went to the grocery store and came home and unloaded all of that stuff. Load, unload. Load, unload.

Cleaned up the kitchen, started laundry, made Mr. Moon's snack bag and coffee drink. Got him on the road. Sat down with some glue and some glitter to do some fun stuff. My phone started doing some weird alert and it warned me that I was under a tornado warning and to GET TO SHELTER IMMEDIATELY.

Fuck that shit. I was done and done with anxiety. I was hungover, wrung-out, made as limp as a three-hour boiled white noodle with anxiety. Then my neighbor called to warn me about the tornado. Then another friend.
I decided I'd clean out the hall closet enough to get in there if a tornado did come. And by the way, the rain was coming down like Noah's second coming.

Here's what the hall closet looks like.

It's under the stairs. A sort of little Harry Potter room. That's safe, right?

Oh god. I hear the sound of a train!
Wait. It IS a train.

I think I'm safe now. The chickens are out in the yard, inspecting the new pond in the driveway. Chickens would know if a tornado was approaching and take cover I feel quite certain. So I just defied all sense and went out and took a picture of the bamboo I need to kick.

And the Tung tree blooming.

The amaryllis is about to open up and the blue flag iris have started to unfurl. My little mulberry tree is filled with fuzzy budding fruit and the beans have come up.  I feel like I've been gone for a month instead of four days. 

And I am so glad to be home. So glad to be back in my funky old house with my funky old junk and my funky old kitchen

 and my Best Bed In The World and all four of my pillows 

and my panther light and my book and my bad magnolia blossom art and my funky old mermaid with a dead bug hanging from her titties

on my funky old back porch. 

And in my funky old kitchen I am going to cook a completely unhealthy Marie Callender's turkey pot pie with Golden Flakey Crust Made From Scratch. 
Because I am not dying tonight. Unless a tornado comes and does kill me but I have told my husband that if that happens, I love him, I have always loved him, and I always will.

So. That's about all the preparation I need at this point. 

Love From Lloyd...Ms. Moon


  1. My head kinda hurts now. Just saying.

  2. Whoosh -- that was the sound of your tornado post. But it was exhilarating, and I'm glad you're home.

  3. Bob- Mine too. Trust me.

    Elizabeth- Oh god. Me too, baby. Me too.

  4. Oh, Mary, you do make me laugh.

    I understand perfectly everything you have blabbed above/ agoraphobic hypochondriac to another.

    What I do not understand is why the hell you leave home so often........I guess that is the masochist in you..a trait I do bnot thibk we share, tenks gott.

    Welcome home.

  5. I laughed anxiously the whole while I read this. It's proof we worry about all the wrong things, I think.

    Stay safe. There's no place like home, there's no placelikehome, there'snoplacelikehome.

  6. Lo- I leave home because people want me to. And I love them. What other reason could there be? I love hearing your voice here. Thank you for reading and for figuring out the verification bullshit. You are my hero.

    Denise- Exactly- while we are looking anxiously down the train track, the tornado poses to the west of us. No place like home.
    I can't believe I don't own ruby slippers.

  7. That dentist and his staff are doing a lot to heal your phobia of medical professionals. i love them for that. i am glad you are back in the place where you feel happy and safe. Its the best part of venturing away--coming back home. xo

  8. Good lord Ms Moon! What a day!! Very glad you survived, and may sleep a house-dream sleep.

  9. Angella- Now if I can only find a primary caregiver whom I trust and love that much...

    SJ- Yes. But a GOOD house dream and not one where floor are falling in and I have forgotten to tend my chickens...

  10. OMG keep that dentist! Mine is good at calming my fears too. Now if I could just find one for my lady bits...ahem. Anyway.
    Green apples are my go to anxiety food. I always say if I can choke down a couple of bites of green apple, I'll survive.
    A tornado? Funny you were sort of calm about that part. The mind is a powerful thing.

  11. Hey, when it's time to go, it's time to go. No point in dragging it out.

  12. home. safe. I'm happy to think on that.

  13. I am reading this late at night because I can't sleep and am laughing, but with relief for you. We were just about to jump into the bathtub as the tornado drew near. But, luckily for all of us, the threat was lifted! I am glad you are home and so enjoyed your description of being back in your house. So happy your dental emergency was cancelled too!

    Georgie J.

  14. Honey-My life is completely topsy-turvy, my life and my house and I'm untethered from reality. I can sleep and I can find food and the katz haven't quit me, not yet.

    XX B

  15. See?! Time wounds all heal or whatever way around it worked out this time.

  16. heartinhand- Really? Green apples? My stomach would revolt. Each to our own though, right?
    Lady bits doctors are very important.

    Ellen Abbott- Amen, woman!

    Yobobe- I am beyond grateful to be home.

    Georgie J- My bathtub is way too close to a cherry laurel tree which is dead and is going to come down. I really hope never, ever in my life to see a tornado close up. Or hear it. Or anything.

    Beth Coyote- You are in the hell of limbo. Just don't lose the corkscrew or the cat food. You will make it! Serenity will be yours! I promise!

    Sabine- It did. It truly did.

  17. I think we buy funky little things and put them in our funky little houses to make them funky little homes. And then when we need comfort, we turn our hearts to our funky little homes that we've created for ourselves. I think the idea of it absolutely beautiful. On another note, everything is blooming in my yard, and I'm typing this through damp, swollen, itchy eyes.

  18. I don't think it is safe! Can you get somewhere reinforced nearby? Now I'M worried.

    Glad you're home. TMJ is a fucking bitch. It's probably from your jaw getting stretched while having your procedure - it can misalign the jaw while it's open so long, and then you clench or grind to try andget your teeth back into the place your brain thinks they should be. An osteoapth can help fix it, if you got to them sooner rather than later. I wish my dentist had told me this ten years ago, instead of telling me to relax and do yoga :/

    This type of exercise is good too:

  19. Nancy- I used to have terrible hay fever but I've mostly "outgrown" it. I guess. I hardly ever have it any more.

    Jo- That's probably the safest place in Lloyd, that little room under the stairs. Don't worry!
    Nah. I've been clenching my teeth and jaws forever. It wasn't the procedure.


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