Last Monday I would have given my left arm for an en suite and a mini-fridge. You see, if I had an en suite and a stocked mini-fridge I would never have to leave the sanctity of my bedroom.
A place where I feel safe. Where no one can judge me. No one can hear me cry, or moan, or wail as the anxiety overwhelms me. I can bury my head under my pillows, hold on tight to Special Bear (the teddy bear I’ve had since my first Christmas when I was 6 months old) and ignore the world.
Often DJ and Jake keep me company. And that’s ok. They know not to ask me how I’m doing. They don’t expect me to solve problems or think about what’s causing the meltdown. They just allow me to be. And I appreciate that about them.
My friend Ruthie said she has a mini-fridge stored in her parents’ garage that I am welcome to use. However, after she thought about it for a minute she didn’t think enabling me to stay in my bedroom forever was a great plan after all.
I talked to Mike about putting an en suite in and he poo-pooed the idea. He argued that we don’t have enough room for an en suite (which is true, I’d have to give up my closet and a few feet of my bedroom). He also argued that installing an en suite so I could hide under my covers was not necessarily the healthiest way to deal with my mental illness (maybe not, but it would be the easiest, at least for me).
That was Monday. Tuesday I managed to force myself out of bed, out of my bedroom and out of the house. It was Remembrance day and Ruthie and I went to the Dutton memorial, laid some flowers and took our two minutes of silence.
The rest of the week I spent busily preparing for a craft show on Saturday at the local Seniors’ Centre. We rented a table to display our Perky & Quirky merchandise (shameless advertising – here’s the Pinterest link – Perky & Quirky) and I needed to finish some product.
Saturday morning as we were finishing setting up our table I had to take a lorazepam in order to stay calm enough to speak with customers. I survived the four hours of the sale, packed up and headed home where I napped and read.
Sunday I spent most of the day shaking like a leaf. Poor Mike had to deal with me in WalMart. We needed a few grocery items, lunch meat, bananas, etc. It is important that I force myself outside my comfort zone in an attempt to continue living with some normalcy. WalMart is usuallly the toughest store for me to go into. It’s always busy and people are usually in a hurry and a little cranky.
Mike had to stop me several times as I was rocking back and forth (standing up) and moaning softly. He had to call me back into the present moment and remind me to use the deep breathing technique that often helps soothe my anxious soul.
When we returned home from shopping (thank God that was over and done with) I curled up on the couch and had a nap. The kids made supper (chicken burgers and salad) and I just relaxed.
I was hoping I would feel better this morning, but instead I’m feeling very down. As I said to Mike earlier, I feel like I’m walking uphill, carrying a house, into a brick wall. Every. Day. I fight it. I use the “fake it til you make it” technique, but I’m weary. I get like this every once in awhile. I’m sure tomorrow will be better.