Meet Anxiety Bird, one of the many birds residing in my overpopulated head. You have birds in your head too, right? Chirping and chattering away all day long every day, telling you this and that? Mostly these birds are useless, but every once in awhile if you get really quiet a wise old owl shows up. Haven’t seen my Wise Old Owl in awhile but I know she’s out there.
(To be clear, I don’t actually believe I have birds living in my head. These are metaphorical birds.)
Anyway. All was going well today until it was time to get The Kid out the door, so…like two hours were fine. The Kid decided today was a good day to refuse to take a shower or brush his teeth or take his medicine or eat breakfast — he must have sensed I woke up in a good mood.
On his way out the door, the kid refused to put his coat on or even take it with him. Past experience has taught me it’s best just to leave it and let him go to school coatless. So off to school coatless he went.
After all that nonsense, my Drunken Little Birdie was chirping, letting me know I’d definitely earned a glass of wine at the end of the day. I smacked her with a spinach leaf (I was making a salad at the time) and she shut up.
BUT THEN. An alert popped up on my phone advising there was snow in the forecast for the afternoon rush hour.
Anxiety Bird starts pecking at my ear: What if there’s an accident and The Kid is stranded on the side of the road without a coat? What if the van breaks down and he has to wait for rescue and it’s cold and snowy? What if what if what if.
Luckily I’m able to dodge Anxiety Bird by saying a little prayer and moving on with the day.
By the time I get home for the night, I’d survived:
- Commuting home in snow
- Homework meltdown caused by three digit multiplication and new math
- Running back out the door to the dentist, driving there in snow
- Getting a permanent crown so now I’m like a queen or something
- Driving home in even more snow
- Trying, unsuccessfully, to encourage The Kid to brush his teeth before bed so he didn’t end up with crowns and fillings like mom
Anxiety Bird and Drunken Little Bird were conspiring. My heart was pounding from being on high stress alert for four hours and they told me I needed to take a Xanax (yes I have a script for it thanks for your concern). But I don’t want to replace one substance with another so I settle into bed, do some Soft Belly breathing, and cuddle up with my Kindle and The Kid, even though he has dirty teeth.
I just started reading We Are the Luckiest: The Surprising Magic of a Sober Life, which so far I like.
I have a hard time relating to a lot of quit lit because a) I’m not fairly well off; b) I haven’t had alarming adventures; and c) I don’t have friends or a social life to worry about losing.
I’m a fairly average introvert type and haven’t seen my experiences reflected in anything I’ve read. Maybe because introverts aren’t writing books about their problems with alcohol? And having time and energy and space to write is a privilege?
I guess that’s kind of why I’m here. Love a good DIY project!