I found myself having a bit of an anxiety attack in the middle of a Spirit Halloween store, one of those roving, wildly expensive stores with a refund policy designed to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you, forevermore. and not in any positive way, at all. My daughter’s stepmother is now the proud owner of a scary clown costume, complete with sword and black and white striped bike horn. forevermore.
forevermore gets a lot less exciting in these situations.
The anxiety attack was mild, I was able to take deep breaths and get myself under wrap again. The sweeps of ‘Ican’tdothis, Itstoomuch, nobodyaskedme, thekidstakemeforgranted, everyonetakesmeforgranted, ineedtogetout, ineedtogetout, i’mtrapped’… it rises right up to the top of me, like the water in a scary cave-based movie. I am flooded.
The deep breaths spilled me back down onto the ground, and I was fine. I told my daughter that her penance for making me go into the hellhole was that she had to browse TJMaxx with me, for as long as I wanted. She consented. In the slipper section I got a phonecalled request for a ride, to, fro and afterwards, so a kid could watch a movie on a school night, ending past my bedtime. I told them I needed to walk some more because I was having so many reactions. I made it to the towels and the blankets, rubbed some soft things and saw that they’d texted it was allright if they couldn’t go. Sometimes the no is so much easier. And so it was.
I came out with a few things, no towels, no slippers, all for under $50, one of which is a Santa to add to my collection. A Santa on a unicycle, balancing presents on his head. And I’m all set now. Clear air, some unharried browsing, slow breathing, and a renewed appreciation for retail therapy, as well as the power of no, as applies to the ceaseless mom-taxi life. Sometimes the best life of me rates higher than yours, kid, just for an hour or so, and yesterday was that one.
Ever get the feeling that your world is not worthy? What I have to say, the ‘problems’ I encounter, so small, that sharing them just feels …almost inappropriate?
I’ve not been writing, and I’m trying to dive in on this weekday of so few work hours. And it feels weird, and upsetting. And I’m going to push through it because I think of it all the time, and I’m exhausted by the ‘not doing’, if that makes any sense. So here it is.
love to you. hope you are well,