Ugh…

When you wake up on a Saturday morning and the first words out of your mouth are F**K!

it’s time to sit down and let those thoughts he heard or they will screw you up more than a trying to remove a snowsuit from a toddler who has a 103 degree fever, who’s holding a blue freezie in his chubby tiny little crazy glue of grip with no chance of letting go. So determined, you pull that foot long cold, blue fatty, through every coat arm, mitten, scarf, shoulder straps and zippers, until it leaks blue stains everywhere.

1st born son Zackary, 23 years ago – still one of those days that stick in my memory of feeling defeated!

Truly, I cannot recall who whined, cried and wrestled more lol…

We both lay out on the freshly vacuumed carpeting ( I remember that, because those precious vacuum lines seldom happened).

We sprawled out after battle like a frozen snow angel – arms and legs outstretched- exhausted!

Hugs, kisses, SNACKS and it was over!

I can still be a lot like a first time Mom sometimes:

I eat in the middle of the night because it’s the only time you are alone and no one is going to take your cookies.

AND like a first time Mom…

I worry about things, I have zero control over but put it a damn good effort trying!

Jesus said “ Who can add a single day to their lives by worrying? Look at the birds of the air, they do not weep or spin and yet their Heavenly Father still feeds them? Are you not that more precious, than them?“

If I had been at that event I would have risen my hand and asked :

“ Ummmm… How many days will I lose, like exactly?

Please do the math because I suck at numbers? I’m Christina and I’m an worry-aholic!

I’m sorry sir but what happens if that bird, falls out of the nest, strains a wing, and she can’t fly to get that food from her Daddy?

What THEN?

Can ya please finish the story, cause I will devour a book until I know the ending?

Oh and when you did send those directionally-challenged peeps, in the desert food you fed them manna from Heaven.

Was that like tacos and hand held burritos? Candy bars and lemon drops?

Will I be standing outside with my mouth open wide?

Singing that song that I can’t get out of me head this morning?

Or is it like those bland, stick to the roof of my mouth, communion wafers from church?

I NEED to know what exactly because my meds give me dry mouth but I also take ones for heat burn so I need to know what to bring in my purse – Like EVERYWHERE, if I ever make it out of this freaking nest? “

I would have asked that exactly that way in my 20 second allotted time at the microphone.

I have a need for details! I don’t fly by the seat of my pants.

I am cautious, too cautious, time to throw caution to the freaking wind, cautious!

I literally psychoanalyze myself, everything, everyone and every damn situation within 10 minutes of entering a room… I would dare, to go as far as to to say – I’m intuitive!

If I was a psychic like the Long Island Medium Teresa Caputo ( I’m so glad she divorced her cocky ex husband but she stayed for like 20 years so she wasn’t that intuitive was she? )

Regardless, if I was her, this would be considered a gift!

But you have anxiety – you are being skeptical.

Seems a little unfair to me from a noble and professional standpoint to me.

I’m not ADD or hypo-manic, though I am a whole lot of Complex PTSD.

With the complex, being the greatest understatement of my life!

This is just me & Anxiety and our incredibly complicated relationship, poor boundaries and ineffective communications skills….

We have different ideas, about our love languages, far more than four agreements and it’s no freaking Secret!

So this morning, I had to pull up a chair with Worry and make myself uncomfortable!

I had to look Worry straight in the eye with a resting bitch face, place my shaking hands in my lap under the table so my old friend Worry, wouldn’t perceive that as weakness, and get the upper hand….She does that – a lot.

She can also be quite intuitive too, at reading my body and energy.

Here’s our conversation:

Me: “Worry? You, yes YOU… ya really need to just …..F**k OFF!”

Worry: “ Sorry love but I didn’t pay the big bucks to sit in the nosebleed seats. I want to see Taylor Swift try to ‘ SHAKE IT OFF!” live on that stage, with ya, up close and personal.

I want an autograph, a T- Shirt and a selfie. I’m not going anywhere! “

Me: “ Fair enough, tea or coffee with those Paula Deen 7 layer slutty brownies ( Relax, chill, I’m not being judgmental. That is what they are called), the ones we baked last night remember? Let’s eat them all?“

Here’s the thing- Worry is not going away….

She’s my twin, even though we are both adults, we have been together since before we ever took our first breath. We are often inseparable.

We have a lot of disagreements, where I am often persuaded, like the co-dependent person I used to be and sometimes admittedly still am. I let her have her way.

I am recovering from our toxic traits but she gets the upper hand, some days.

Worry isn’t there to wreck havoc.

She is not intentionally trying to be a shit disturber.

Her intentions are pure.

Yes, she often overreacts to every road block and flashing light up ahead – before we even get there!

So what’s my point on a Saturday, when y’all could be watching Netflix:

I have accepted the fact that she is a frequent flyer, with far too many air miles from far too many Christmas presents yet again this year, and she will visit often… TOO OFTEN!

Sometimes unwelcome and without warning.

She will shows up announced every single time THIS house being me, is a freaking mess!

So I have 2 choices :

I can shut the door in her face, let her ring the bell 100x. And keep hollering at me through the side window.

OR

I can let her pain in the ass, in for a visit.

Either way, she is like an extremely determined prophet on my front porch trying to save me from eternal damnation….

SHE IS NOT GOING AWAY.

So a little later I changed directions.

I said “ Welcome…Sit down. Sorry about the dog hair everywhere but he lives here not you! Have a seat? Like if you can find a spot on the sofa between the all the unfolded laundry and the dogs….

I’m listening. What would you like to share, my beloved thorn in my side, my old ball and chain?

Go ahead tell me, don’t hold back. I hate the bullshit. Give it to me straight! “

As I brace myself internally, shoulders risen, tension in my neck, furrows in my brow, blood pressure rising, heart racing, thoughts in forward motion to jump to the worse case scenario possible.

“ I worry!” She whispers.

“ Ya, clearly, I got that part decades ago. Spit it out!”

“ That’s it, that’s all I wanted to say – I worry, you worry, we both worry. We can worry together and then work together to work through our worries, if you weren’t so worried every time I show up with my worries! “ is what I think…I heard Worry say.

“Damn girl, you can make a girl worry about worrying. I’ll give ya that. “

“Thank you for worrying. I know you are just trying to make sure I’m safe and I am…. like at the moment I am…. I may need your help again in a few hours? “ I exhaled.

Worry and I will be watching Netflix and chilling for a bit.

Chill as in ….relax.

Not chill like the youngings call it – cause this Trauma Queen has been f**ked by Worry enough already – too many times to count! ?

Listen to your feelings, they are merely guides.

They don’t have the final say. You do!

Try not to worry when worry visits.

Instead tell her in, allow her to make herself at home…

Until it’s supper time, then send her back to her own place.

You aren’t her b*tch.

You are her boss!