Anxiety

Anxiety

Nothing To Do But Jump

I am not really an app person, and though my phone is full of all the apps in the world c/o my six-year-old, I couldn't tell you how to play any of the games on pain of death.

Video games, now - those I like, ever since I discovered the joys of Duck Hunt at the tender age of six (when parents all over the country simultaneously decided that it was a good idea to give their elementary schoolers pretend rifles and let them pretend-kill defenseless little birds). Kendrick and I had a brief (albeit rapturous) dalliance with Angry Birds back when we first started living together. I will happily play Super Mario with my son all night, every night because Super Mario is wonderful. And - just saying - I will take you DOWN in MarioKart (oh, yes I will). But when it comes to Candy Crush and Farmtown (or whatever it's called) or any of those other app-type games that I always see people posting about on Facebook?

Not really my thing. My phone is for looking at clothing I cannot afford to buy, watching Bachelor In Paradise from my bathtub, and accidentally and horrifyingly butt-dialing exes and frenemies.

Anxiety

Less Sorry

A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh. - Leonard Cohen

I wanted another baby.

It’s strange to be saying that out loud, because for a long time not even my own mother knew that I wanted a third child. A couple of my friends knew, but when we discussed it I never used the word “trying.” I danced around the subject. Oh, you know, we’ll see what happens.

Anxiety

The Sense Of Falling

Lots of things scare me. The possibility of not having enough work to pay the bills. The idea of my parents getting sick. Climate change. Spiders. Most of my fears are pretty general, though; they wake me up at night and start my heart pounding, but still, they don't inspire that immediate kind of terror that you see in movies (well, except for the spiders).

I'm ten thousand feet up in the air right now. My son is watching Thor in the row in front of me and my daughter is asleep on my lap, and my hands are shaking almost too badly to write this, because I don't know that I've ever been more scared in my life than I was just a few minutes ago.

I dream often of plane crashes. I'm pretty sure that they symbolize a fear of losing control, which means my subconscious really knows what it's doing. The dreams are always different, but one element stays the same: I'm looking out the window, and I feel a lift in my stomach, and then there's the sense of falling. Sometimes I crash in my dreams. Sometimes I board another plane, just trying to get home, and the next plane I'm on crashes, too.

Anxiety

10 Things (Finally) Being Treated For Anxiety Taught Me

Being someone who has suffered from chronic anxiety for well over a decade and who is writing a humor book about anxiety is a bizarre experience. So much of what I've gone through has been decidedly less-than-funny, but now, as part of the writing process, I've been scrolling back through old posts I've written on the topic with a new perspective. I mean, I hallucinated tiny banana-shaped people sitting in my linen closet and telling me they could help me sleep. (True story.)

Come on. That's funny.

But re-reading these posts is doing something else: it's making me remember just how rough that (extremely long) time period was, because it's easy for me - a person who is now capable of sleeping through the night without bolting straight up in bed at 3AM, wide-awake and sobbing because DEATH IS REAL - to forget how out of control my life used to feel, because I simply couldn't rely on my own brain to do what I wanted it to do.

Anxiety

The Big Activity Book…For Anxious People

Thankful for a lot of things this year, including the fact that I didn't actually die from the stomach flu yesterday, despite appearances, and the fact that deathly illnesses are apparently a lot more fun when they involve a purring kitten on your chest. But one of the things I'm most thankful for of all is the chance to write books, and to see them on shelves; it's a dream come true to get to call myself an author, and - for my most recent project, and the next one - to get to work alongside such a searingly funny, talented partner.

So: coming up in Spring 2019...The Big Activity Book For Anxious People, by Erin and me. (Never before have there been two people more perfectly suited to tackle this subject matter.)

To kick off the whole process (and to celebrate a bit), Erin and I thought we'd do something a little different. If you make a donation to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, you'll be entered in a drawing to have the image of your choice (you, your best friend, your dog, a baked potato, whatever) drawn into the pages of the new book. Oh, and if you donate $100, you automatically get your image included somewhere in there. Support great cause --> be in awesome book. What's to to love?!