Hell itself would tremble in the face of my fury and stress-driven hysteria. The look of pure anxiety coupled with tension strikes fear into the heart of both husband and children. They run from me the way they would run if I was wielding a fistful of butcher knives. But all I’m running with these days is cardboard boxes and packing tape. I am a bundle of nerves, wrapped tightly around a big heap of PMS and it is a fearsome sight to behold.
Also, the stress is messing with my blood sugar. This kind of busyness and pressure causes my blood sugar to run low and then I spend a lot of time drinking orange juice or eating jelly beans by the hand full to keep up. Trust me, it’s way less fun than it sounds. I don’t even like jelly beans anymore, I’ve eaten that many in the past few days. This is hard on my body and it leaves me feeling like I’ve run a marathon. Without any of the benefits of being a person who runs marathons. Like looking hot in spandex. But anyone who has every gone one too many hours without eating knows how tired and drained you feel when your blood sugar is running low. Imagine dealing with that all day every day. While trying to pack up your house, organize 80892374049 details pertaining to moving to the states, and drinking 38023021998 gallons of orange juice. If it weren’t for the new, handy-dandy glucose transmitter I’ve been wearing the past few weeks, you’d probably be finding me in a coma, 75% of the time!
Tonight after a major minor meltdown, the hubby assured me all will be fine and sent me off down the street to pick up some OJ to keep my blood sugar up and a walk so he could call the psych ward to pick up his crazy wife to clear my head. Then we spent an hour working on some close-to-final packing and I sat down with a handfull of crazy pills the biggest mother-effing piece of chocolate I could buy at the corner store. Now, I am sitting here warding off The PMS The Crazy by staring at my computer and gnawing on a hunk of chocolate.
That’s the truth about me. The Crazy makes me freak out on my hubby, but instead of it making me get my ass in gear and do what needs to be done, it sometimes paralyzes me. Luckily, I have a good guy who can hold my hand until the Giggling Academy comes to get me we get through this rough patch.
So, until things settle down, don’t be surprised if you drop by and hear me sitting in the corner, giggling. I’ll be fine. Really!
May 28th, 2008 at 10:50 pm
I was crazy once. They put me in a room with padded walls, and cats. Pink cats.
Sorry, just popped into my head. A nice middle school vignette from our childhood.
May 29th, 2008 at 9:01 am
The first step to not freaking out is just accepting that you ARE going to forget something, it is NOT going to go perfectly, there likely WILL be some minor detail you forgot in your paperwork.
And finally, to just accept that this is all OK. The stress and freaking out will not make those things above go away, it won’t prevent them from happening. In all likelyhood it will make them more likely
What’s the point of this comment? You (and by you i mean everybody hehe) needs to just accept that things are not going to perfectly smoothly, ever, and realize that just taking it as it comes and dealing with it when necessary will leave you calmer, happier, and healthier.
For what it’s worth, I just finished moving, and gave this speech to my wife because she reacted the same way you are to the whole ordeal, and it accomplished nothing, the freak out train could not be derailed
All that said, good luck with everything, and i’m sure you guys will enjoy boston!
May 29th, 2008 at 12:06 pm
Chris, I think you are right. There is not much that can be done to derail the “freak out train”. But it’s sweet that my husband tries.
May 30th, 2008 at 10:28 am
Looking hot in spandex would be so awesome, wouldn’t it?
Good luck on the moving and the staying sane and the blood sugar thing.