Monday, November 7, 2016

Crazy Report

Oh, y'all. It's been a hard, hard day.

Owen's fine. His one hour EEG results showed no abnormalities and they're going to do a 24-hour EEG starting on Thursday but he gets to be at home for it. So, this is a process and we're starting it and that's the way it is. Lily texted me that today at school he traded a look at his finger wound for Pokemon cards so he's a budding Tom Sawyer and we are all proud of his bartering skills.

And the election tomorrow- well, we are all holding our collective breath and we've all done what we can do and there is no more to be done than to hang on for another day and see what we see.

So. Yes. These are things I am worried about, concerned about, but how my mind and body have reacted today has been a nightmare- a huge flare of anxiety which has had me wishing for more relief than can be found in a long, long walk or a day spent mostly in the yard, pruning and pulling, hanging clothes, moving, moving, moving, trying not to stop for too long because there is NO relief in simply being and I ain't Zen enough to deal with such an internal fire by sitting with it and accepting it.
This is not a normal reaction to stress, it's a dis-orderly reaction (in that I am suffering an anxiety disorder) to stress and I realize that and do accept that knowledge with gratefulness but it doesn't help much.


I am so tired of being crazy.

But. Here I am. And I may have butchered the roses but they don't bloom in my shade here very much anyway and I can walk under the wisteria arbor without ducking and Mr. Moon's hunting clothes are all washed and line-dried and folded and ready for him to put away and I've even taken a shower and shaved my legs although I keep thinking of that thing I saw online where Adele said that she isn't shaving her legs for any fucking man and I'm not really shaving my legs for any man either unless I go get a pedicure tomorrow and the technician is a man but it does make me feel as if I've not entirely fallen off the boat and into the depths of Crazy Ocean, never to be found again. Maybe I'm just hanging onto a rope behind the boat and having a little ride through the waters but I have a way back, I have something to hang on to, smooth legs if nothing else.
Look? See? I can do normal.

But that's the story and I think tomorrow I better get my ass to town to see at least some of my kids and my grands because they make me feel sanest of all. My heart cannot be constrained behind fear in their presence, panic cannot overcome me when their hands are in mine, or the grandchildren's little bodies are held close to my own.
With them I am not the Crazy Woman, I am the grandmother, the Mer Mer and I am not expected to do any more than love them which is not only the easiest thing in the world to do but also the evolutionary/genetically-wired way of it.

Let's check in tomorrow, y'all.
Let's do what we need to do to get us through the night, through the days whether it is hacking rose bushes or shaving our legs or just getting our hands on the ones we love.

Here's my hand.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I'm really hoping she wins tomorrow and that my headache and sick stomach will stop. I quit shaving my legs in 1970 and won't ever be doing that again. Hang in there.

  2. Holding your hand and holding my part in the collective breath for tomorrow's election and for Owen's well-being and for relief from anxiety.
    Had a laugh from Allison's comment ~ I haven't shaved my legs since the 70's either!

  3. i usually quit shaving my legs when it's too cold for shorts. here's to the best 24 hour eeg experience possible for your owen.


  4. Oh, dear Lord, let tomorrow be a good one. I've got your hand, anyway.

  5. Jo and I have lunch plans, so let us combine them.

  6. Some days, the trick is to just hang on in there and wait for what's going to happen.
    Greetings from one more crazy woman - I know there's quite a lot of us.

  7. I quit shaving my legs and arm pits when I was about 19. it just pissed me off that an adult woman was supposed to do that so that men who never did that wouldn't find you icky. oh noes, icky hair! like every adult human being has! fuck that shit and fuck men who get freaked out about a woman's arm pit hair. get over it. well, I guess that's my rant for the day. avoiding politics at all costs.

    and I hope the anxiety has left the building.

  8. I remain optimistic! Breathe deep!


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.