anxiety - Cursing Cats and Other Curiosities

Attack of the Anxieties

Posted on October 7, 2021 | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment

I’ve been known to have anxiety and panic attacks. I take medication for it. Valium, to be specific. One of my friends was amazed at how much valium I take, but I used to be agoraphobic, okay? I’m basically brought to you by psychiatric drugs.

Anyway, today I had a total anxiety attack. It started at work and I knew it was coming on hard so I peaced the fuck out. I teared up a bit in the car and came home to give my sweet husband the hug I needed. He asked what was wrong and I was like I just needed to hug you and the cat. And when I started blabbering the huge amalgamation of what was wrong, one thing stood out more than the rest: mom.

Last night we discussed Mr C’s work trip coming up. Well, mom always visited when Mr C went on work trips. Mom always felt like she was going to be a burden so she was insanely careful not to step on toes. However, when Mr C went away for work, she knew she would be doing me a favor by visiting. I get to spend time with her, she cooks me delicious dinners that Mr C doesn’t like (hello, meatloaf and hamburger steak and canned corned beef sandwiches), and there’s no way she could be bothering Mr C. So she always came up for his work trips. And he’s going on a work trip. And moms not coming.

Of course, Mr C told his sobbing wife that he could cancel. However, him going on a trip isn’t a problem. And of course I could ask a friend (especially K) to come stay with me — but it’s not about having to stay by myself. It’s not him being gone or me being lonely, it’s mom not being here. He’s going to go away and It’ll just be… me. Without momma. We always loved hanging out together when it was just us. Like a little vacation. No more mom. No more little vacations while Mr C is gone. No more momma.

And to make things even more awkward — the day Mr C comes back is the day his parents will be coming to spend the night — on my sweet mommas birthday. Her first birthday when she’s not here. And when I feel like I should be mourning not having my mom — or maybe making a special treat in honor of mom (hello pumpkin cream cheese muffins), I’m going to be celebrating my in laws. It’s going to feel a bit blasphemous. So is Christmas. Christmas in any form will feel blasphemous. She died on Christmas Day. This year is Christmas with the in laws. Ugh. But at some point I’m going to have to suck it up and embrace Christmas again. Just wish it wouldn’t be so soon. Mom LOVED some holidays. So not going all out for the holidays would be a disgrace to her memory.

That said, I did put up Norbert the dragon for Halloween, but I won’t be decorating the inside. I just don’t feel it. I doubt I’ll feel Christmas either.

*sigh* (again, I actually took a deep sign before I typed that).

I do have a lot of anxieties going on right now. Everything running the gauntlet of petty: what if I can’t take the pain of my tattoo and I wuss out? To what if I can’t take the stomach surgery? What if it gets infected or I get botched or I DIE? I’m interviewing for new jobs — two interviews this week. Mr C’s in a hole of despair hating his own job. Work sucks, obviously, for both of us. The lawsuit from my injury is finally coming up and we calculated that if we win the MAXIMUM we can ask, we won’t make enough to cover one of the plastic surgeries — much less a small fraction of what I lost in wages. Not even the gap in the pay cut I took for this new contract. We are not making it out well, and that’s if we win the max. Thank God the lawyer only gets paid by how much we win. And I’ve got a house guest. So I’m anxious about is the house clean enough — does the bedding smell bad? Am I too in her face? I don’t wanna be invasive.

Oh and one of the new friends that had best friend potential — yeah turns out not so much. She supports some things I just can’t look past. I’m so damn judgemental. This is why I only have three true friend peeps.

Anyway, I got out before I cried at work. I came home and hugged my sweetie (the husband, not the cat) and bawled about mom — or more accurately, the lack of mom. Then I took a nap with my cat. Now I’m cathartically writing it all out. Then I’m going to the circus. Yep. But the people kind, not the animal kind. Cheers!

Melancholy

Posted on July 7, 2021 | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment

I left work early again today. I just feel so sad. Melancholy. Sorrowful. It’s not all mom. Of course part of it is mom. I miss her dearly. I have so much anxiety and worries running through my head and I need her calmness. I need her “It will work it all out.” I need her to calm me down and say she’ll pray about it.

Monday was a holiday. It was a lazy day. The kind of day where her an I would have lazily floated in the pool. I miss that so much. That time was perfect. Of course I never realized it was perfect but it was. It was a time with just us chatting and relaxing. Telling each other secrets and gossip. And I was providing for her. Be it a day or the weekend, I was providing for her. And I was giving her this private pool to enjoy as much as she wanted. And believe me, she did enjoy it. I’d find her out there on the stairs having coffee when I woke up. If she hadn’t already got on a bathing suit and moved into the tanning ledge or a float.

I miss you, momma. So so much. To say it hurts is superlative.

I do have things im looking forward to. That’s something that leaves me in a depression — when I don’t have things to look forward to. But this time I have a few things to look forward to — but they’re all tainted somehow. Or I fear they won’t come to pass at all.

I’m looking forward to plastic surgery. I might be pretty smokin’ with some tightened up arms and belly and bigger boobs. I’ll be an hourglass for sure — even if it is still an extra large one. The fact that my husband is letting me pay for this and take the time off to do it is amazing! But rather than being grateful, I worry. What if my recent weight gain takes that off the table? How will my recovery be? Will my husband be able to step up to help me enough? With pain meds, bringing me drinks and food, helping me get up and around, washing my hair for me, taking care of the cat. How can I take care of Jack right after ive been gutted? Momma always always took care of me in recoveries. Even since I’ve been married. She’d just come up here to stay. It’s hard for me to trust. I worry.

I’m looking forward to Florida. The family trip my side of the family always takes. However, this one is obvious. Florida is MOMS THING. It’s what she loved. Sitting on the beach all day with the waves of the gulf washing over her feet. Lazily dripping sand into elaborate spires next to her chair. Having coffee at 6am on the balcony listening to the crashing waves. This year we’ll all be going at least one last time all together. For mom. She wanted some of her ashes spread there. In the ocean. And she’d want us to go. She always wanted us to go. Even when I felt like I ruined it. I turn into such a bitch around my sisters. It’s the codependent family structure. I fall right back into it when I’m with them. Then we all bitch to mom and she screams that she cant take it anymore. And I feel like they’d have a better vacation without me there. So yeah, cloud over that one. But I have to go. For mom.

October. This one’s odd. So it’s the year to spend Thanksgiving with my family. However, Mr C’s parent’s are celebrating in October — so sweet, we can do both families, right? Well. Mr C’s parents, in a fashion so very typical of them, just assumed none of us “kids” were coming. So I was chatting with my mother-in-law the other day (remember, I was all sad about mom and no one would return my calls? You know none of my family has yet to return any of the calls, BTW). Yeah I was talking to her and she mentioned that they’d be stopping by our house on their great road trip right before heading up to the thanksgiving festivities. So I confirmed that we’d be leaving to follow them. This was news to her! She thought we weren’t coming! She was super excited that we were. She informed me that Thanksgiving dinner with the N’s was canceled and gave me the run down of the new plans.

So after talking with her, I called Mr C’s brother. He has legitimately no excuse in the world to miss Thanksgiving. So I called to see why he wasn’t coming. That was news to him. He thought he WAS coming. Mr C’s sister — same thing! We were all planning on going but the parents just assumed we weren’t for some weird reason they’re calling a miscommunication but I’m calling bullshit. So since no “kids” were coming, the adults scrapped thanksgiving dinner at the N’s for a fall trip. Now they’re going to North Carolina to ride a train through the mountains. Sounds nice enough. So we conspired and decided we’d join. Then I did more research.

The parents are staying in a very overpriced lodge. Thats cool, cause my sister-in-law found us a cheap air BnB less than a mile away. Awesome! So I looked into this “dinner or lunch train.” Well, one: there’s no dinner or lunch. It’s just a 4.5 hour train ride. You can get a boxed lunch of a sandwich and chips. But I’m keto, I can’t eat the sandwich or the chips! Oh and those sweet antique steam dinner train vibes — nope. Only available in November and December. We’re riding a plain old commuter style train. It’s not even steam! So now I’m riding a foodless amtrak to nowhere as the main part of my trip. AWESOME. We’re only driving 4.5 hours hours both way for this privilege. Buy hey, good meals with family are worth it, right? Well, on the train we won’t all be together. Because it’s not a dining train. And dinners? there’s no where to eat dinner in the town we’re staying in or the town with the train! They’re shit towns, I looked! Fuck me, this trip sounds terrible. We’re all pretty mad they canceled dinner and games at the N’s but we didn’t realize the extent of this thing.

Then there’s my sweet tattoo. I can’t get it if I don’t get my arms done so there’s one worry. Also all the good artists are in LA or New York! I can’t get anyone to reply to my inquiries. And if I travel to one of these artists, can we do it in one go? Don’t they have to do it in stages? I can’t travel to New York 3 times! And who’s gonna take care of my precious Jack? That goes for all of these trips (except Florida when K is gonna house sit. Thats why K’s getting the sweet ass home warming present. Not the Dragon of Scams, though. He’s currently a deflating trophy in the garage). But it might not matter, because none of the artists have replied to my inquiries.

So. Yeah. I’m whiny. I told you I was melancholy. But I don’t really have anyone to whine to, so I’m doing it here. My blog, my therapist. I find myself lonely. I miss mom so much.

Weight Anxiety

Posted on June 22, 2021 | by cursingcats.com | Leave a Comment

I’ve been having a lot more anxiety and panic lately. I think I’ve narrowed a part of it down the the upcoming appointment with the plastic surgeon. Am I excited? Fuck yes, I am! However, I’m freaking out about my weight gain.

Since mom died. I gained some weight. That threw off my thyroid and made me super hypothyroid. Depression combined with hypothyroidism gang banged each other into over 30lbs. I’m already afraid the doctor won’t accept doing elective surgery on someone of my size (which I would like to get down to 220lbs even though I had been lower — also remember, friend – Mrs C used to be pushing 400lbs so this is a great weight).

I wasn’t extremely worried about the weight gain. I haven’t changed clothes sizes. My doctor caught the thyroid labs being off and we fixed them. I’ve dropped about 7lbs since then. I’ve remained keto throughout. So I know that, eventually, I’ll drop the excess and get back to where I want to be. I wasn’t worried about it. Now, with what feels like a deadline, I’m worried about it.

It’s also “that time of the month.” That combined with seeing a bad photo of myself has my self esteem in the negative numbers. We’re talking shit hole here. Bad. Hence the panic attacks.

I think identifying the root cause has helped a small amount. I talked to Mr C about it. And it’s just a consultation. Maybe he says he’ll do it when I drop the 17lbs to get back to 220. I’m still really excited about boobs and tattoos! Boobs and tattoos! A 3/4 sleeve, a portrait of my beloved Jack, and now I want a little goomba on my foot/ankle. I’m already getting more tattoos and I haven’t even started. YAY!

Looking down.

Posted on April 12, 2021 | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment

So this morning at work I was consulting the Senior Scientist. Yes, that’s his real title, I’m jealous. My goal is to become a SME (Subject Matter Expert) which is basically what he is, but I’ve never heard them called “Senior Scientists” before this job. It sounds so fancy. Now I want to be one even more.

SMEs are basically the unfirable people the company can’t live without. They can curse out the customer and not get a slap on the wrist. They’re just too valuable because they know everything about that thing and no one else does. I know of a one-degree-of-separation-from-me SME that was on a customer call and started ranting and cursing. The customer being fucking NASA. Management’s response? Let’s not tell him when we have customer calls anymore. I worked with a SME, Rich, and he was like 75 and already maxed out his payscale but he was too invaluable to the company to lose. I personally witnessed him in a meeting tell the presenter “there’s no fucking way that’s gonna work and LAUGH.” He was right, of course. And no one said a thing. Because it was Rich and Rich is like the guru go-to for that piece of software that no one else can figure out. He could do something in 2 hours that would take someone else a month to figure out. Rich knows more than you ever will. And he can retire any minute he pleases so you don’t say shit to Rich. SME life is where it’s at. I just wanna be so valuable to a company for knowing everything about this one niche piece of legacy software that I can curse at whomever I please without repercussion. It’s my only career goal besides retirement.

It sounds like you have to be a genius to be a SME. You don’t. You just work on a piece of software long enough and you end up knowing everything about how it works by nature. You just become the person everyone comes to to ask questions. You know where this new code needs to go because you worked on that piece two years ago and you were at the initial design meetings where it was discussed. The other engineers would need to work all that out, but you just remember it. You have become the SME simply by staying in one place for so long.

Anyway, SME discussion aside, I was talking to our “Senior Scientist”/SME this morning. This is one of my two favorite people at my job. You know, the job I despise with everything I have? Yeah, well there are a few people I like there that aren’t DeBitch. I’d love to be outside-of-work-friends with two of these people. And Mr Senior Scientist here is one of them. So he’s discussing the shit I asked him about and he’s like “do you understand what I’m taking about” — yes, I do. And then he’s like “you seem so down.” Well, yeah. I’m at work. I’m down at work. Also it’s a Monday.

However, I also had a panic attack this morning. I didn’t mention that. I might later if he mentions my spirits again. I’m still heavily grieving my mother and you don’t realize you’re still so upset until a little thing just hits you. I didn’t even realize I’d been hit. Today when I got up and got ready, I went for my cat on my way downstairs – as always. He’s either downstairs on the couch (can be verified easily as it’s visible as you pass the stairs) or in moms room. He was in moms room curled up on the bed next to the tray with her glasses and ashes and some photos. She’d have liked him curled up on her bed. “Look at him!”

I sat down beside him to love on him. I’ve been careful to not rush past him in the mornings like I usually would. I hate my job and my precious only has a short time left with me. So I want to give him as much love as possible. I can spare a few minutes. So I sat beside him and started stroking his fur while looking at the photos of mom. I thought of the conversation I had with my brother’s wife last night. Two of my siblings are in complete despair. I didn’t realize it was so bad for my brother. He’s been having so much anxiety that he hasn’t spent the night in his own bed since she died. He’s been sleeping on the couch. Hearing that crushed me. I adore my brother. He was my father figure growing up.

So for a brief moment I remembered their despair and wondered if I’m cold. Should I be in more grief than I am? The moment didn’t last long – a passing thought in my mind. I didn’t marinate on the thought at all – it fluttered through. I picked up the cat and carried him downstairs to shove a pill down his throat. He still resists those fucking pills with everything he has in him. Give me a break, fuzzy fuzzy! I’m doing this FOR YOU.

And then my chest tightened. A panic attack. The burning knot behind my sternum. The absolute feeling of existential dread. The elevated heart rate. What the fuck? I started beating on my chest to try and relax the muscles. Trying to talk myself down in my head. Relax relax relax. Focus on your breathing. Focus on the cold granite of the counter top you’re now leaning on to try to ease the pain. The smoothness of the stone. The quarter bevel edge you chose – good choice, you. Full round is tacky. Look at the plants in the window. Ground yourself. Don’t lose it. Don’t give in. Beat on your chest some more because damn I’m having a heart attack now. At least it’s before work and not after. If I’m going down, take me down before my ass has to go to work. Relax relax relax. It’s ok. You got this. Damn that hurts. It’s okay. It’s okay. Pound on your chest. Deep rub the muscles. You’re good. Work is gonna be good cause you didn’t slack off Friday.

Stand up and get going. The world doesn’t stop for you. The world doesn’t give a shit about your feelings. You have a meeting in 30 minutes.

So I grabbed my stuff. Feed my good boy his stinky food. He gets it twice a day after discovering he lost an entire pound between vet visits for his kidney workups. Grab my keys and lock the door behind me as Mr C is still sleeping. Beat on my chest as I walk to the car. And now Chucks telling me I look “down.” I am down, Chuck. I’m real down.

I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Then the check engine light came on.

Posted on January 20, 2021 | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment

I has been a week. Let me tell ya. Monday I was so anxious and overwhelmed that I skipped work. I had watched 90 Day Fiance which was me and moms show. We both call each other to remind each other it is coming on and then talk about how crazy everyone is. And Natalie be CRAZY. Mom will never see how crazy she is and we cant talk about it. Who’s watching our show with me now? Just me and the cat, I guess. And he doesn’t care how crazy Natalie is, which she really is.

I’ve been hyper focused on the cat as a bit of a break from the far heavier death of mom. So of course I’m upset that even with all the changes, he’s still only got a life expectancy of 1 – 2 years. I assume that includes a lot of decline towards the end as well. So it’s difficult. I just gave him his fluids via stabby needle an hour or so ago. He’s resting in his bed next to me. With a big lump of fluid on his side. Poor guy.

Also, I’m anxious about starting vestibular physical therapy. With not having to drive much thanks to Covid, I had kinda of convinced myself I was all better. This is fine. Ya know? And acknowledging that I still get really sick driving is a hard pill to swallow. I certainly don’t want to go back to last January when I had to do my physical therapy exercises twice a day and got nausea and vertigo every time. It was miserable. So I don’t wanna. That’s basically what it boils down to. I don’t wanna.

Work’s been… bad, I guess? Honestly, I haven’t been working. I’ve been just getting though my days. I’m sorry, I’m just trying to not break down, yall. Like I said, Monday I didn’t even make it in to work. So my not-very-important task has been halted half done. But this is the last week of the sprint so my favorite coworker was assigned to help me with it. Of course DeBitch made a snarky asshole remark. DeBitch was one of the main reasons I didn’t go in Monday. I just didn’t want to deal with that shit. And of course I feel terrible.

It’s a team carry. I’m the teammate down and my team is carrying me over the finish line. It’s embarrassing and …well… embarrassing. I’m ashamed of myself. But then I also need the carry. So I’m grateful but also want to crawl up in a hole and die. Mostly the latter.

So I’ve got a lot going on that’s stressing me out. A lot. And then the check engine light in my car comes on yesterday on the way to work. God dammit, are you serious? So I have a scanner to read the codes — it’s some faulty circuit in the temperature sensor. But still, kick me when I’m down, will ya?

I just want to crawl up in a hole and die. Or to retire and crawl up on the couch and never leave the house again. That’s fine too.