Having friends when you have anxiety, part two.

If you read my earlier post, you'll know that today was a pretty bad day. Made even worse by the ending of my relationship, for the third time, which completely blindsided me. So what was the first thing I did? I let my friends know. My friends, who have come to my rescue when I was in sticky situations with said ex boyfriend.

So one called. And we spent an hour long phone call discussing everything else. Including how her fiance would look in high heels, and how gay an ex from four years ago is. All of my tensions just melted away during that phone call.

Afterwards, my mom came in and was talking to me about how she's starting to understand a little more about how my anxiety works. Before, she used to just tell me that whatever I was worried about didn't matter. But now she's seeing that my anxiety doesn't always make sense. I can be anxious over absolutely nothing and have an anxiety attack over absolutely nothing. She told me she's learning through me being open about it. And that's helping me want to be open about it.

So remember, no matter how much your anxiety-ridden or depressed brain tries to tell you that no one cares about you, it's wrong. I'm slowly learning that. Thanks for being along for the ride.

I fucking hate anxiety.

Excuse my language, but it's true. I fucking hate it. Anyone with anxiety will tell you the same thing. No one likes being anxious 24/7 about literally nothing. If anyone tells you differently, they're delusional.

It's like being sick, but all the time. It makes it to the point that you can't function in your everyday life. Do you want to know how many anxiety attacks I've had today? Four. Do you wanna know why? Me too. Absolutely no idea what brought it on. I was sitting in the rocking chair at work, feeding a bottle to one of the babies and all of a sudden I was overtaken with anxiety and got extremely depressed. I finished feeding the baby, and went into the bathroom and had an anxiety attack. The next ones make more sense. I was anxious about asking people to stay for me so I could go home, so I ended up having an anxiety attack while asking. Then I was anxious about the possibility of my mom being upset with me for coming home, so I had an anxiety attack on the drive home. Then when I got home, my mom said for me to take bubba upstairs and take a nap with him as he was already asleep. I don't know what caused the anxiety attack right before I fell asleep, but I do know that it led me to take a four hour nap.

That's the thing no one tells you about anxiety attacks. They're thoroughly exhausting. Actually, no one really tells you anything about anxiety attacks. Or anxiety. Because the stigma behind mental illness is so ingrained. But I'm not gonna do that. I'm here to talk about my depression and anxiety and dealing with all that shit as a single mom, because it's not easy and everyone needs all the support you can get when dealing with this.

So today, I had four anxiety attacks. I've been awake for half an hour and I feel another one coming on. Today I'm on the ground. Tomorrow, with any luck, I'll be back on top of the monkey bars.

My tiniest boy.

Do you ever have those moments where it just hits you that your kid isn't a baby any more? Those are frequent as of late. It's becoming my new normal to suddenly be hit with how BIG my boy is. My friends and I were talking last night about all the "fun" things about labor (I'm gonna pause here and let you picture my best friend with one of those diaper-pads wrapped around her, showcasing how it really does go from belly button to bum. It was hilarious.) and it just kinda hit me that it was over a year ago. I've found videos of bubba kicking the hell out of me when I was pregnant, and I've looked at his newborn pictures a thousand times just wondering where all the time went. Who said my tiniest boy could grow up? Because I sure as hell didn't.

This is the human being that my body formed. He grew, safely, inside my body for 39 weeks. At 8:55 pm on April 18, 2014, he came into this world. I remember so many of the details like it was yesterday (I'll save my birth/post-partum story for another time) and maybe that's why it hits me so suddenly. It seems like just yesterday I was looking at his wrinkled face for the first time. Then, he sat up around four months. Crawled at six. Pulled up and cruised on the same day he crawled. Mastered going up stairs at seven months. Then started talking steps. He was steadily walking at nine months. And now, at just over a year, people think he's a two year old. Because he walks so well, he isn't afraid of anything. Seriously, nothing. I've got to get a video of this kid climbing fake rock walls. He has no fear. And now... Now he's speaking. And not just a few words. He could say "mama" and "dada" at six months. I believe his next word was "please" because he knows he doesn't get anything without saying please and thank you. But now he's speaking in sentences. "I did it", "no I'm not", "I get out?", "I go?" are just a few that absolutely floored me. He's saying more and more words and phrases every day and all I want is to slow down time. I want more hours in a day. I want to be home with him all the time. It's a little hard to go to work knowing that I don't get to hear his tiny voice for about six hours. But it's all part of him growing up.

The thing is, though... I don't want him to grow up. I want him to stay my tiniest boy. Because there will come a day when his mama's hugs aren't what he needs to comfort him. When he doesn't care if I look as he tries new things. When he doesn't point his finger at me and say "don" (don't) repeatedly when I'm not paying attention to him for some reason. And I don't want those things.

I want my tiny baby boy.

Dear you.

Dear you.

I had a breakdown today. Well, multiple, really. It's the stupidest thing but... I can't listen to the band they played at your funeral. Not just the one song, the entire band. I walked out of a restaurant because that band was on the radio. Then I came home and did something stupid. I looked you up. Of course, you blocked me on Facebook beforehand, so I can't actually look you up. Just anything that others post about you. And I did. And I cried. But did you know that I can't bring myself to visit you? It's been over a year. And I just can't. Because there are so many things that I want to say to you, that I want to scream at you. But I can't. Because you're not here. You're not anywhere. You're just... in the ground. Sitting there. Sure, I've felt your presence a few times, but not in over a year. Is it because I stopped visiting? I'm sure it's not. You have things you'd rather do than watch me struggle through life.

I know you're not completely gone though. See, I still have a knick knack that you gave me for some long-forgotten Christmas. Every once in a while, bubba will wake up in the morning and only want that trinket. He'll laugh and talk to it like he doesn't have a care in the world. So I know you're here. But that doesn't make it easier to face that you're gone.

Did you know I never got a chance to grieve? No, because it was "cheating" on him. I never dealt with your death. So it hits me. Like a fucking freight train. And everything comes crashing down around me.

I forget, sometimes, that you're not here. Someone will remind me of something you did and I'll say "remind me to hit him the next time I see him." But then I'm the one getting hit, with the fact that I won't. Not ever. I don't believe in eternal life.

Do you know how many times I've wished I had a time machine? I wish I could go back and stop you. I wish you hadn't fucking done it. Do you know how many people loved you? Who cry all the time because you're gone? You touched the lives of everyone who knew you and now it's just... gone.

I miss you.

Having friends when you have anxiety.

Outside my mom, my boyfriend and my son, I consider four people my best friends. They are all very different people and they are my best friends for different reasons, but I love them all the same.

The first I've known for what seems like eternity. I can't remember a time when she wasn't in my life. Looking at us from the outside, it's true that opposites attract. She is very strong and independent. She isn't afraid to tell it like it is, even if it might hurt your feelings. Maybe that's just to me because we've been friends for so long that it literally doesn't matter what we say to each other. She's about to be a mom for the first time, and I couldn't be more stoked. We've gone through so many things together, including parents getting divorced and having siblings that were mistaken for our children on more than one occasion. Now we get to experience motherhood together.

The next, I have known for a shorter period of time but that doesn't make our bond any less important. We may not be the closest in the sense of hanging out all the time and talking constantly, but we're always there for each other. I recently had to call her late at night for a favor, on a holiday, and she was there. Then she stayed up for another hour and a half and talked to me through my anxiety. She's getting married in less than two months and I couldn't be more thrilled for her.

The third, I've known for an even shorter time but she is still just as amazing as the last two. She's an amazing mother to a beautiful little girl who I love like she's my own child. She has been there for me through so many ups and downs and I don't know what I would do without her. She's also getting married, but that's a little ways away. Which, thank God, because I'm up to my neck in party planning right now. Kidding. I love you.

Last but never least is the one I've known the shortest amount of time. She's family but that doesn't stop her from being one of my best friends. We weren't really close until the last couple of years. We were at different stages in our lives as she's a few years older than me. But then I got pregnant. And she got pregnant six weeks and one day later. Now we both have wonderful boys who have been best friends since the womb, and she has a daughter and step son that I adore. She is literally the sweetest person I've ever met. We've also worked in close, stressful quarters together for almost a year, so that helps.

All of these women are people that I love and would do anything for. I would figuratively kill for them. I mean, I love you guys, but I'm not going to prison to be Bertha's bitch.

The thing is, when you have anxiety, it's easy to forget that people love you. It's easy to forget that people care about you the way you care about them. It's easy to tell yourself that they have too much stuff going on in their life and they don't care about your shit. It's easy to push people away when they don't care about you. These women haven't let me do that to them, and I love them for that.

Let's call these ladies "C", ":K", "H" and "M". I'm sure whoever reads this knows who they are, but for the sake of their privacy I'm not going to use names.

Today I got a text from H asking if I've heard from K about Saturday. Saturday is C's baby shower so I had no idea what she was talking about and started freaking out that I had made other plans when I have this baby shower. She said K wanted to do wedding stuff and I said I had the baby shower and figured it was left at that. Then H did the thing that makes her one of my best friends. She called me out. She said I had been acting distant lately and asked if I was okay. It made me want to cry that she had even noticed. When you have anxiety and depression, you push people away. You may not even be consciously doing it. I wasn't, but when I thought back on it, I realized it had happened. But she didn't let me get away. She wanted to make sure I was okay. When my depression was telling me that no one would care if I went away, she proved it wrong.

M also has pretty bad anxiety. Some shitty stuff has happened this week and she's had to miss a lot of work. I won't go into details but I will say that she and her baby have been sick. I may have mentioned that we work in a daycare. Sure, we have substitutes but it's easier to be with someone who knows the kids routines and what calms them down and stuff. She called me after 11 pm to ask if I would go in for her tomorrow, and I had already been planning on offering because some more bad stuff happened tonight and I know she's stressed out and very upset. She must have apologized 50 times in our 5 minute phone conversation. But the thing is, I didn't even think twice about it. I just want her to take care of herself and her baby and get better.

That's the entire point of this post. I didn't even think twice. The people who care about you, truly care about you, will drop everything just to be there for you. Each of these women have been there for me in different, but equally important ways. I am thankful that I even know these women. They are so important to me and I love them all so, so very much.

So just remember: the people that you love, love you just as much. They're not too busy for you. They'll make the time. Reach out. It's a good thing, believe me.

Boys and cars.

Yesterday, my boyfriend sold his Miata. I can't say I'm disappointed. I thought that thing was a death trap, and I'm pretty sure it was older than me. It also didn't have air conditioning, or a backseat. So there was no where to put bubba, which is part of the reason why he sold it.

Today, my boyfriend bought a BMW. I think it's called "e36 m3" but I'm not totally sure, and I have no idea what those letters mean. I still think the car is older than I am. No clue. I'm sure I heard what year it is, but I can't remember. All I care about is that it has air conditioning and a back seat. The sun roof is a nice touch. 

Let me say that I know absolutely nothing about cars. If I open the hood of a car, I might be able to guess at where the engine is. I know how to check oil and that's it. Which is the entire reason it's great to date a car guy. Well, that and he'll teach our sons about cars. The downside to this is that his relationship with a car, any car, has been around longer than his relationship with you. There have been many nights that I wanted to spend with him but he had to do car stuff and I'm not really a fan of the car smell, so I stayed home. But it's one of the many things I love about him. And that he got a 4 door sedan so we can stuff the back with car seats. 

The guy that he bought the car from lives about an hour south, and we took his truck. We went down with one car and left with two cars. This is a problem if you've never let your girlfriend drive your truck and now you want her to drive an hour on the freeway in the rain. Especially if your girlfriend has anxiety driving her tiny 4 door hatchback around the city in great weather. BUT I made it in one piece and without having an anxiety attack, and for that I am thankful. I didn't hit anything or anyone, I didn't kill myself, I didn't have to pull over. So it's good.

But I don't think he'll ever let me drive his truck again.

Today, my baby grew up.

I work in a daycare in the infant room. It's a pretty sweet deal. I get paid more than normal daycares pay, plus I get free tuition. I also get to be with my kid, which is pretty awesome, right? Well, it's awesome until they move into the toddler room. When you've been with them almost every second of every day for over a year, it's hard.
Today, my baby grew up. He moved to the toddler room. He cried for two hours after drop off. It didn't help that I went in like twenty minutes after drop off to get something out of his diaper bag that I needed. Or that I popped in forty minutes after that to make sure they got his diaper change down, since he's cloth diapered.
Two hours. He cried for two hours. There were times when I couldn't hear him, like when they went outside and played in the water. I'm sure he was happy then. He was fine when they had lunch, he slept great, and was fine upon waking up. He adjusted. It will get easier.
It will probably get easier for me too, at least that's what I'm telling myself. When he cried for those two hours, I almost had an anxiety attack. I almost broke down crying myself, all day long. When he came back into my room, he gave me the longest, sweetest hug ever. Then he got down and played with his friends. He's a pretty independent kid. I love that about him. As long as he feels safe, he just does his thing.
We also had a new baby start today. He's just seven weeks old and is an absolute sweetie. I basically spent all day snuggling him. My mom also brought in bubba's swing to use in the class. We turned it, and the music on, and memories flooded back like I had opened the gates.
I remember, being so exhausted and confused and absolutely starving. Bubba was less than a week old. It may have been our first night home from the hospital. He had been up, and screaming, since three in the morning. It was nine in the morning when I finally told him that he had to cry it out for a minute because mommy was starving to death. I put him in his swing, turned the music on, and walked out of the room. In less than a minute, he stopped screaming. I thought I hadn't fastened him right and he had fallen out and died and that's why he stopped crying. I ran back faster than I thought I could with very sore nether regions. That's when I saw him. He was listening. Listening contentedly to the music, then drifted off slowly into a sweet little sleep. I watched him sleep for what felt like hours before finally falling asleep myself.

So today was a rough day. He moved up, proving that he's a big boy, but I am holding on to the notion that he is still small. When did he grow up, and how did I not notice? When did he stop smelling like a baby and start smelling like a boy? Seriously, he smells like sweat and dirt and water and outside. But you see, my mom taught me a trick. If you get just the right spot on the back of their neck, you can still smell the baby smell. So while he drifted off to sleep tonight, I buried my face in his neck and inhaled his tiny baby smell. He might be a big boy now, but he'll always be my baby.

Obligatory "getting to know you" post

Hi. I'm Hailey. I'm a 22 year old single mom to a perfect one year old boy, who I will henceforth refer to as "bubba" even though he has a very beautiful name. I was six months pregnant when his father and I broke up, so I've always been a single mom. When I found out I was pregnant, I had just turned 20. We had been dating for about six weeks, and I was four weeks pregnant. We tried to stick it out at first, but we're just different people. I was a miserable pregnant lady. My favorite part of pregnancy was giving birth. Seriously.
I bottle fed. I couldn't breastfeed, I didn't have the milk.
Bubba started solid foods one year ago this weekend, when he was 2 1/2 months old and then there was no stopping him.
He is a great big bundle of beautiful insanity. He sat up at 4 months, crawled and cruised at 6 months, climbed stairs and took steps by 7/8 months, and walked at 9. He slept through the night at 5 weeks old. He weaned himself off baby food at 8 months, and off the bottle and formula at 11 months. He goes constantly, from the time he wakes up in the morning to when he finally drops at bedtime. I never really felt like I had a tiny baby, because he's always been extremely independent. Except at night, where he just wants his mama. We co-sleep, and I don't want to hear your opinion on it.
I made the majority of his baby food (out of organic produce, usually) because it was cheaper and super easy. I'll probably post recipes.
He is cloth diapered, because he has freakishly sensitive skin. You try to use any kind of diaper or any kind of wipe on the kid, his entire diaper area breaks out in a horrible, blistered rash. Seriously. I went through EVERY KIND OF DIAPER. It took over a year before I caved and cloth diapered him, and I'll never do anything else. I love it.
We live with my crazy-awesome mom, who has been the best support system in the entire universe, and you should probably be jealous that she's not your mom. She loves being a grandma and getting to break all of the rules I set in place for bubba, because she's the grandma and I can't do anything about it. Unless it's important, then she listens. But bubba had his first sno-cone when he was just shy of two months old.
I'm a teacher at a daycare and I absolutely love my job. The babies are crazy and demanding. It's very fast-paced, exhausting work. But it's the first time I've ever been able to say that I love my job. This three-day weekend is killing me because I just want to know how the kids are. Really.
Two more things, that's it. The first is that I curse like a sailor, and I've very opinionated so if that offends you, please leave now. Thanks.
The last is that I struggle with horrible anxiety and depression. Anxiety attacks are frequent. Depression is constant. But I'm working on living life on top of the monkey bars, at all times.

Living on top of the monkey bars.

Today has been a weird day. See, I have really horrible anxiety, and last night I had an anxiety attack. After an anxiety attack, I always feel very drained. Emotionless, almost. I woke up this morning and couldn't get out of bed for over an hour. I ended up texting my mom, who was downstairs, to see if she wanted to do anything. I was hoping she'd say no. I just wanted to stay in bed. Instead, she came up and we had a serious talk about my anxiety. Then she reminded me we had things to do for my best friend's baby shower, which is in six days. It was nice to create things. Working with my hands gets me out of my head. I stopped when my son was brought home. The 4th of July was his dad's holiday this year. We went out to dinner. My mom, my baby, and me. Then we went to the park and played hard. I don't think I've been that sweaty since I was a kid. While we were there, I did something just to prove I could. I swung myself on top of the monkey bars. That's when I realized: this is what anxiety is. What depression is. What being a single mom is. Sometimes I'm wonderful. I'm on top of the monkey bars, looking at everything wonderful and beautiful around me. Most of the time, I'm slipping through the bars. I'm trying to keep myself where the beautiful things are, but I don't have the strength. I fall a lot. I find myself on the hard ground, surrounded by dirt. Only seeing the ugly things in life, only seeing the bad. I need to find a way to fall gracefully. It's coming again, the fall. Because today...

I'm on top of the monkey bars. But I'm starting to slip.