Written @ 3:07 p.m. on 2007-10-19
Blue Meanies
Well, back to reality. Sorry to spin out on the regression rant, outside of our normally scheduled program. You just never know what you'll find when you click on "hilthethrill". I do expect you'll find some more regression notes in the future, though.
The girls are going to a halloween party at school with their dad tonight, which took a fucking act of congress to organize. I'm not bringing in baked goods. I feel like all the effort I've gone to to get them there, with their dad and his shenanigans, is enough energy for me. And then there was N's costume. It had to be Batgirl. We went to about 30 million stores to get it right, but by the end, the satisfaction of a successful hunt was well worth it.
Last night, when we came home with our Batgirl booty, there was a cop parked outside my front door. I went into a panic, but tried to hold it together for the kids. I squeaked to B.,"I am majorly freaking out..."
It turned out that the cop was only grabbing a slice from the pizza shop. All of the scenes of domestic violence in my life have created a major panic trigger in anyone in a police uniform. One time a cop who was a friend of BoSo's came to hang at the shop for a while, and I wanted to run screaming. It's too funny, because I am just about the most law abiding individual I know in my generation, but I'm the one who's freaking at the sight of the blue meany. Sheesh.
Today I had a full fledged panic attack, and I can only think that it was subconciously induced by seeing the police here. I'm pretty happy and relaxed right now in all things, and I am so grateful to say that I can't think of another thing that would cause it. I'm overcome with housework and childcare, and I've got boy troubles, but come on, nothing like what I have been dealing with. Isn't that amazing?
I binge ate and drove myself all the way out to the farmland where I used to live with my ex. Driving is one of the best soothers for me. Part of my panic is a flight response...Must. Get. Out. Of. Here. NOW! I drove on the only road I was "allowed" to drive on when I was with my ex. I didn't have a license when we met, and he didn't think I was a good driver. Part of his control. I could only drive, without a license, when he needed me to. Fucker.
The road is a back country road that goes from the city all the way out to our old house. Our beautiful house. The house I brought my newborn P home to. Too bad it was filled up with my ex and all of his drama. I loved that house.
My favorite radio station was playing a live concert of Toots and the Maytals, which is a famous reggae band, for those who aren't into it. I grooved on the reggae and the golden trees arching over the road, eating a pint of raspberry chocolate chip icecream wedged between my legs. Not on my diet. Not particularly productive, but gets me through the pinch.
I'm trying to tell myself that everyone has eating catastrophe's every once in a while, it's just that you have to get back on the horse. It's when you say,"I messed up. I guess it's over...I knew I couldn't do it," that you truly destroy yourself. So, I'm going to keep trying.
I also read recently that every addiction is connected to anxiety. You have anxiety, and you use your favorite vice to sooth it. Today that definately proved true for me. What sucks is, it works. I feel much better with a gut full of icecream.