Today we celebrate hubby’s birthday. It was actually the other day, but with him working 2nd shift, we’d have to do cake and ice cream at 11:00am and it’s just not the same. I just finished baking the cake and will work on icing a little later. MIL is making his favorite seafood chowder.
And, I’m anxious again/still. 8:30 in the morning and I already have a ½ mg of klonopin on board.
I don’t want to fight this fight again today. This fight where I pretend I’m completely fine and smile and chitchat while the birds in my chest pound to get out. This fight where I feel like I can’t get a deep breath. Teeth clenched. Fists clenched. Fingernails digging into my palms. Resisting the urge to get in the car and drive. Fast. Anywhere. Suppressing these urges makes my body shudder. I want to lay down and curl up under the covers and I want to run.
The one really good thing is that hubby didn’t sleep very much last night, which means that there is a nap in today’s schedule somewhere, and I can probably get in on that.
I have a tendency to accomplish more when he is home. I don’t know why that is and Karen and I have talked about it on many occasions. Sometimes, yes, it’s that I don’t want him to think I’m lazy. But, most of the times that’s not the case. I’m happier when he’s here. I’m more motivated when he is here.
He brings out the best in me, even when my best is way worse than it used to be.