Thursday, April 14, 2011

Yesterday I went to pick up the hubby from SLC airport around 9:30 pm. My kids came along in their PJ's. We were all in a good mood and excited for daddy to come home. He'd had a really long day of flying and during his third flight the plane had to turn around due to windy weather in Salt Lake City. The poor guy did the same flight twice with a migraine.

Anyway, I packed the hubby his favorite sandwich and drink and I was going to let him eat and relax as I drove home.

About half way to the airport that crazy wind was blowing me all over the road and the rain starting pouring. My headlights and windshield wipers are really crummy so I could barely see. About this time, baby boss starting screaming and the kids were yelling, "The baby won't be quiet!" As if on cue, a semi truck cut me off sending me swerving.

Normally, this would cause my nerves to be on edge, but last night it caused an all out panic attack. I've never experienced that before. I screeched at my kids to shush up and literally had to pull over, put my head between my legs, and calm down. My body was freaking out. I think this happened because my nerves were already shot and my mind and body exhausted from being on parent duty by myself for so long.

After calming down a little, I popped a bottle in the baby's mouth and had Sassafras and the Commander take turns feeding him. I felt much better and started driving, but things weren't as okay as I thought they were. My heart was racing and my hands were shaking. As we approached the airport, hubby started texting me, but I didn't dare release the death grip I had on the steering wheel.

My mind was racing and I couldn't believe the state of anxiety I was in. "What is wrong with me?" I asked myself. "What the heck is going on? I'm 28 years old, not 90! I should be able to drive confidently during this situation."

I pulled up to passenger pick up and instead of the joyful reception of, "Hi sweetie. I'm so glad you're home. Hop in the car and relax. All is well." The hubby got, "I'm sorry. I can't drive...or breathe for that matter." Of course, the hubby was kind and supportive and put up with my crazy rambling as I tried to explain to him what happened and how I was feeling.

But, I found it difficult to explain how I felt and that frustrated me. I was tired and angry. And in the spirit of hybrid words (Think Brangelina and ginormous.) I will call what I felt "Tangry."

I was tangry at my body for working against me.

Tangry at myself for yelling at my kids.

Tangry at the semi truck driver and gusty wind.

Tangry at being misunderstood. I could hear how crazy I sounded and was acting, but it wasn't my fault.

"Why am I so irate right now?" I asked the hubby. "I don't know. But, everything will be okay," he said softly.

"In most challenges I tell myself that it will pass eventually. But, depression and anxiety can be quite defeating because you know it will always come back in some form or another." This was my reply.

His next comment was, "It will get better."

This statement made me tangry. There is no guarantee it will get better. In fact, I've had two freak outs in a month's time (Remember the whole crater experience?:). This is new territory for me. I am an extremely confident person and I really really don't like not being able to calmly do something. Man I was tangry.

My tanger continued a while into the night. I sat in the dark and thought as I rocked in the rocking chair (Without the baby). Finally the tired component of tanger pushed me to bed and sleep, like it so often does, eased the tanger.

I now write this post a full 24 hours later and can see that the hubby was right. Even though bad times always come...so do good times. Both are inevitable. And even though I may struggle with certain things my whole life, I am learning and getting stronger. That makes me very hopeful and happy. I guess you can say I'm...hopy.

1 comment:

  1. I can't believe you were driving in that weather. That was a crazy night and the wind was so scary. Glad you made it home safe.


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