eyes front

by MrsFatass on November 3, 2010

Dear Blogosphere;

I’ve got to talk about something today, and it’s a toughie. I’m not good with eye contact or the touchy-feely stuff, so I’d prefer it if we just avoided looking at each other while I lay this out, and if I know you in my real life I’d like it if you didn’t follow up reading this with a (gulp) phone call or a “why didn’t you tell me” email. And if you’re a virtual friend who I have confided in, don’t out me. Let me just get this out of my head and onto the screen, and if I manage to hit PUBLISH before I hit DELETE, then let me set the pace about how much more I want to divulge. Okay?

So, eyes front.

I’m crazy, blogosphere. Like, really nutso. On a scale of 1-10, I have been told I’m an 11, and I think that person was being kind because they loved me. I’ve alluded to a few things – an aversion to the telephone for example – but the truth is, I have a list of symptoms that I’ve struggled with for a very long time, all connected to this word that I’m sick to death of saying and hearing and dealing with.


Not just worry. Not just fret. Anxiety. Real, pure, all-consuming anxiety. There have been times in my life when it’s raged, and times when it’s been quiet. Times when I was quite sure it would swallow me, and times when I was equally sure I had it licked. I talk around it with the people I love without REALLY talking about it. And I talk at length with virtual friends about every last, painful specific. I’ve avoided discussing it here because I haven’t wanted this thing to be what defines me; I don’t want my list of weird ‘symptoms’ to walk in a room before I do. But the truth is, it’s getting harder to hide it. Not just because my symptoms are getting stronger, which I’m pretty sure they are, but also because I’m seeing some of them manifest in my son, and so it’s no longer okay to ignore them.

It’s a part of me. It’s a part of me that some people have made me feel bad about, as if it was something I could just change if I wanted to bad enough. If I’d just get out of my head and relax. And it’s a part of me that others have said makes me special.

I don’t feel very special today, blogosphere. Today? I feel weary. And alone.

I was in a gift shop recently where I picked up a CD that contained some cure for anxious people. These things catch my eye all the time. Sometimes the new agey music and the visualization exercises and the guided breathing and all that help, but mostly they don’t. But this CD caught my eye because of the way it described that dreaded word: anxiety. “The Fight-or-Flight Response is a biological and psychological change that occurs in the body when a danger is perceived. In anxiety and panic disorders, the brain is acting as if there is a threat or danger even if there is not, in reality, one present at all. Sufferers cannot just “snap out of it” and remain in an excited, agitated and nervous state for hours or even days after the perceived situation. The constant state of Fight or Flight leaves anxiety sufferers prone to illness, insomnia, and even depression.”

I stood in the store blinking at that CD. “You want to buy it?” my friend asked.

Nah. If only it were so easy that another new age CD could help.

This anxiety has affected my relationships ever since I can remember. It’s made me very intense and all-or-nothing. It makes encountering troubles first have to be about me and managing my reactions before it can be about the other people involved. It makes me appear very selfish, so I overcompensate in other areas just to try to prove who I am on the inside, underneath it all. It has made me feel very misunderstood. And even unlovable.

It’s also held me back. Made me afraid to take that big fat swing at a few of my dreams. Many of my dreams.

But hopefully not all of them.

It was suggested to me today that writing is my lifeline. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I’m trying that idea on for size because the person who said it really wants it to be true, and really? I need something to hold on to right now. I’m going to have some choppy waters to navigate, and I’m feeling a little afraid to do it alone. Maybe writing can be that place where I can go. Where I belong.

Worth a shot I guess. Being that I’ve got this blog and all of you, and we’re all here and well-acquainted, right?

So, that’s it. That’s my confession. It’s out there. I’m crazy. And this isn’t about something bad happening. This isn’t about some drama that I’m dealing with. I don’t need to be dealing with a ‘situation’ to be this way. It’s not some big heavy thing that should be making my mom worry. It’s just me. This is just the part of me that is always simmering right there under the surface. It’s who I am.

And I need to just be me.

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{ 60 comments… read them below or add one }

MizFit November 3, 2010 at 5:31 am

First I love how you write
you take something to which I can not relate since it isnt my struggle and make it completely and totally and utterly UNIVERSAL.

I was there blinking at the CD with you.



Coco November 3, 2010 at 6:47 am

If I were your mom I probably would worry, and I would wish that you didn’t have to struggle/deal with this. That’s just the way moms are. And friends too.


Debby November 3, 2010 at 7:14 am

Write on sister. You are who you are. We all are for the most part. If you find a frigging fairy to wave her magic wand over you, send her my way if there’s any special dust left over. I’d hug you, but since you’re not touchy feely…I”ll just stay here in my recliner all cool like…but inside I’m hugging the stuffing out of you! Bwhahhhhh!!!! See, you’re not the only one. Love ya.


Kirsten (Results Not Typical Girl) November 3, 2010 at 7:17 am

i spent YEARS on prozac before realizing that it wasn’t being as effective as i needed. why? cuz i wasn’t DEPRESSED. i was ANXIOUS. they switched me to lexapro. And? better but still not good enough. Especially during PMS attacks. Worst part of it? Guilt from seeing my 9 year old with crippling anxiety.

I’m on your bus sistah. And the bus officially sucks monkey ass.

At least we can sit next to each other and talk about sex and fat.

Love you!


Skinny Sushi November 3, 2010 at 7:36 am

Writing is your gift too. You’re amazingly good at it.


3rd Time Loser November 3, 2010 at 7:46 am

I’m an outgoing girl, but I was a fat kid and lived w/ anxiety. Who would be the next boy to call me a name? Always some jerk around the corner. I was always on high alert…so I became funny, and somewhat of a writer myself. I became the friend everyone wanted and then, after my first divorce lost 40 lbs. Guess what, then I was the woman every guy wanted. Talk about freaking out! I didn’t know what to do with it. Probably why I’ve been divorced 3 times. I’m still searching for something and I still have a touch of that fight or flight every now and then. I still don’t REALLY look people in the eye…for long. I think that’s a special gift anyway. I am a Nurse, I am an administrator. I have to talk to important people every day including CEO’s and Physicians. On the outside I’m perfect, on the inside I surely am not. None of us are. We all have our special little demons! Relax on yourself, go talk to somebody (you probably already have), get on a good anti anxiety drug and do what you have to for your babies. Just make yourself do something for them. Take a step in the right direction, a baby one, every day….one phone call or something comparable, and do it for your kids. It will start the building blocks from inside out. It just takes practice, everything takes practice I’ve learned!! Hang in there!


Joanna Sutter (Fitness & Spice) November 3, 2010 at 7:46 am

We all have our stuff, don’t we??
X’s and O’s and bravo for your honesty.


KCLAnderson (Karen) November 3, 2010 at 8:08 am

I get it. My anxiety is focused on a few very specific things. I have found that getting my hormones in balance helped…not “cured” but helped. A lot. Estrogen dominance is a lot more common than people think and occurs in women in their 30s as much as in women in their 40s.

Keep writing. Please.


m November 3, 2010 at 8:11 am

Since its neither a gulp nor a “why didn’t you,” you can’t be mad at me.

I hear you, I feel you, I love you. And I trust in you.

And it does suck monkey ass sometimes, but it is who we are. I’m not making herbal suggestions yet…

Keep on writing, friend. You’re just so good!

X and o!


Femme November 3, 2010 at 8:22 am

“It makes me appear very selfish, so I overcompensate in other areas just to try to prove who I am on the inside,”

From everything you’ve ever said on your blog, selfish is the last thing you appear. It’s never selfish to take care of yourself so that you can then take care of others. Selfish is not only in our actions, but in our thoughts and our hearts.
I don’t for one second, think you are selfish at heart.


Drazil November 3, 2010 at 8:27 am

Oh MF – I can barely read this…because every gut-wrenching feeling is me. My God – someone finally gets it. Which is terrible for you but is it wrong it’s a relief for me? Someone. Feels. Just. Like. I. Do.
For me – the selfishness is the hardest because the me under the anxiety is anything but selfish you know? But *this* SAD – makes me selfish because before I can go anywhere or do anything – I first have to be honest about whether or not I can even handle it – and that means sometimes not going…which doesn’t just affect me.
I’m sorry. So sorry. And sorry-er still that we can’t just snap out of it. Even more sorry we now have to watch it in our children. As if suffering from this ourselves wasn’t punishment enough right?
We have to keep fighting. Just like SAD is who we are – the fight to heal and get better is also who we are. For me, your anxiety doesn’t make you unlovable…in fact…it’s one of the top 10 reasons why I love you. Though the honesty and words in this post make me cringe and hurt and tear up…I am proud of you for writing it. No more hiding. Hiding means shame. And there’s no shame in this…you told me that once. And now you have to believe it.
And MF – your dreams are gonna come true. I’ll text you every 5 seconds if I have to in order to get you there.


Slimmin' Sam November 3, 2010 at 8:49 am

I. Understand.


MissLoveB November 3, 2010 at 8:49 am

Having your ‘crazy’ staring back at you in the face of your child is the hardest thing and a blessing. We accept them and love them with the ‘crazy’ and thus someday have the hope of also accepting and loving ourselves. Bravo, brave post. Virtual hug.


Jules - Big Girl Bombshell November 3, 2010 at 8:56 am

I am glad that you hit publish! Writing can be an outlet to get those thoughts out of your head. That’s what writing does for me because I am one of those Mom’s who worry because of children who have that beautiful word. One is full blown OCD….and she hit publish with her words many years ago when she screamed at me….YOU don’t know what goes on in my head! I made it my duty to understand…I have read all those books, listened to those CD’s, in an effort to be understand her….My Mom, my son, and my BFF all have it too… How did it skip me? It didn’t. My symptoms are different. That’s my DNA make-up. THANK YOU!


Leaving Fatville November 3, 2010 at 9:01 am

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve screamed at my husband to just pick up the damn phone and order pizza. Just pick up, talk and hang up. How hard is it? He couldn’t articulate it, it just struck him with utter terror. I’d get so frustrated and angry with him. Why couldn’t he just DO it already?

Your post is why. His anxiety was so crippling he wouldn’t even order pizza from a stranger at Papa John’s. He’d just sit there with his mouth flapping open like a fish, unable to tell me that he wanted to run from the room and hide under the covers. He couldn’t tell me, but you just did. I can see now why he’d rather draw in a sketchbook than go to a party. He’d rather paint than pick up the phone. He’s paints and draws so he can deal with outside life.

Now after reading your incredibly brave post, I understand. I am humbled by you both.


drew November 3, 2010 at 9:03 am

Anxiety. Depression. All-or-nothing thinking. Feeling so desperately inadequate, like a fake. Ready and willing to buy the next miracle book or CD or DVD that promises a miracle recovery. In a dark, funky hole…alone…and things around me don’t seem real. Sleepless nights when thoughts and fears playing on like repeating loop. And the mornings? Those are the absolute worst times. When in social situations, covering up the churning sensation inside with humor and wit. Being able to swing from ‘hey, let’s party!’ to ‘leave me the hell alone’ in a nanosecond. Been there. I found someone who broke me down like Gunnery Sergeant Hartman and built me back up. I still wander into enemy territory from time to time, but it’s nothing like it used to be. There’s hope. You’ve got my email if you ever wanna talk more.


Tonyne @ Unlikely Success Story November 3, 2010 at 9:17 am

That’s so not crazy. Put me in a Wal-Mart during Christmas week and you’ll see a full on post apocalyptic post traumatic stress disorder freak out. I claw my neck, I sweat profusely, I can’t catch my breath and my urge to pick up screaming children and punt them through store windows is even greater than normal.

It’s not just Wal-Mart at Christmas either…it’s almost any big crowd without a few cocktails in me. I don’t mean that as a joke either. It also happens when I have to make a decision quickly without all the information. And sometimes when I’m just sitting alone for no good reason. I don’t think it makes us crazy. I won’t believe it.


Kerri O November 3, 2010 at 9:33 am

Welcome to the club dearest. So glad to have you.


Kahla - Building Blocks November 3, 2010 at 9:51 am

Writing is your lifeline – and you are very good at it – keep it up because writing is also a great form of therapy. I will confess something here to you. My grandmother passed away yesterday morning and I don’t feel sad. She has sufferred many years and was in the last stages of Alzheimer’s. She had a feeding tube and didn’t recognized anyone anymore. I don’t feel the saddness that everyone else around me is feeling and to be quiet honest, I don’t want to go be around people that are crying and needing hugs. I am relieved that God has taken her and has made her whole again. She deserved to be in His hands a long time ago – she was a wonderful lady. My grandmother died and I am not sad. Does that make me crazy?


Pamela E. Williams November 3, 2010 at 9:57 am

Since I have no words I will just offer….(((((HUGGS)))))


Miranda November 3, 2010 at 10:05 am

Oh Sue I started to comment and had so much to say that it turned into a damn post. There is a letter just to you on my blog – http://inkonmysleeve.blogspot.com/. Come on over. I’ll provide the drinks 🙂 XOXO


Shelley (@momma_oz) November 3, 2010 at 10:49 am

I adore you.. and your writing. That is all {{{{HUGS}}}}


tj November 3, 2010 at 10:51 am

You are not alone my friend. I think it was very brave of you to post this today. Ya know what- you will help so many people with this too! That is the great thing abut this blog world, we can all relate to each other and from the looks of it- I can see so many people do relate! 🙂 XOXO


Morgan November 3, 2010 at 11:04 am

Your issues with anxiety have been leaking into your posts for a while now, so there was a hint of what you shared today. The thing is, while you said that you haven’t wanted to come right out and really talk about your anxiety because you didn’t want it to define you, you are so far past that here. Anyone who reads your blog would know in an instant that you are more than just that word, that it may be viscerally connected to the things you do/relationships you have (or don’t have)/your personality and persona, it is not WHO YOU ARE. Let it out there so you can deal with it. We won’t judge, tease, stare (ok, we might stare a little, but who wouldn’t stare at a Hotass like you???) Use your amazing talent at writing to find some catharsis.


Dana November 3, 2010 at 11:05 am

So happy to know I am not alone. Love the description of anxietyon the CD. Note that they said a “preceieved” situation. Our reality is ours alone. If only I could remember that usually what I stress over isn’t real.

I love the way you write. Great thoughtful post!


Julie November 3, 2010 at 11:13 am

Ok, Missy. I get it. Been there, have had an attack or two myself. But depression is the bigger one for me. Still, I get it. I’ve seen it in you for years. Made the false assumption that you were managing and medicated. Even if you aren’t now, you will get better. HOWEVER, while YOU may call yourself crazy, while you may feel crazy or think others think you are crazy, guess what? You are NOT crazy. It’s likely a symptom of the illness that you resort to that word and all, but maybe you should keep it out of your vocab.–especially for Thing One’s benefit. Besides, you’ve always been all about the truth in life. Crazy is not your truth. You are loved–have been–will continue to be. Now, that’s the truth.


NYCPatty November 3, 2010 at 11:17 am

I think you are so brave for hitting publish on this post.


erin November 3, 2010 at 11:32 am

this post about had me in tears. most people have no idea what anxiety feels like. what it tells you you cant do. i nearly let my anxiety and depression convince me i was stupid and worthless and didnt deserve to finish college. i’ve lost jobs because i couldnt get up and go to work. i’ve lost friends because of the anxiety i feel every time i think about calling them (especially if its been a long time.)
thank you for posting this, for all of us out there fighting the demon no one else can see.


LaniePainie November 3, 2010 at 11:55 am

omg. are the voices in my head bothering you? Because you can obviously hear them. Paxil helps me somewhat. At least I am able to go to the doctor and PTA meetings with it’s help. A friend recommended that I read Pema Chodron’s “The Places That Scare You” and I’m working on it, slowly. Writing is my only way to get out of my self imposed prison as well.

Please be assured that I will not look you directly in the eye. I understand completely.


LaniePainie November 3, 2010 at 11:55 am

btw, i tagged you on my blog


Tanya November 3, 2010 at 12:02 pm

You aren’t suffering alone. I can totally relate to your post. Growing up I was the painfully shy kid who barely talked to anyone. My anxiety makes me reluctant to make phone calls and just commenting here makes me worry over my choice of words. Thanks for being brave enough to share!


MsGigglepuss November 3, 2010 at 12:36 pm

Oh man, I am sorry that you are going through this! Thank you so much for posting this…I’ve dealt with these feelings for so long…sometimes I can control it and sometimes I can’t. My family used to laugh when I just couldn’t make one “simple” phone call. I have to preplan conversations in my head so I can actually go through with talking to someone in person. Interviews make me feel like vomiting sometimes. Writing is my outlet…I hope it’s yours too. Keep on fighting those demons, and we’ll be here to support you!


SeattleRunnerGirl November 3, 2010 at 1:03 pm

I have to echo Miz’s comment. Your writing is a gift, in that this post put me RIGHT in your shoes and allowed me, for a breath, to catch a tiny glimpse of understanding into this thing you struggle with, that I do not. Keep writing for you (and for me, please!). And keep pursuing your dreams. Giving up on them would be even worse than having to deal with the anxiety you’re dealing with and battling.


Christine November 3, 2010 at 2:23 pm

I’ve been dealing with crippling anxiety for the first time in my life. I brought it up to my doctor a few weeks ago and she suggested that I start taking my anti-depressants (Pristiq) again to see if that helps curb any of the anxiety. So far, not really. Have you ever taken any medication for the anxiety? I’m kind of curious to know if you found it helpful or not.


Lisa November 3, 2010 at 2:27 pm

Brain chemistry is a BITCH! Try the drugs that tweak your neurotranmitters (as noted by others above), if you haven’t already. Try cognitive therapy, if you haven’t already.

You are not crazy. As it said on that CD, anxiety is a healthy, normal and adaptive response to PERCEIVED danger. You just have super-charged perceivers!

Keep fighting – for yourself and your son. And please, keep writing! For yourself, but also for those of us who are touched and inspired by the amazingness that is you.

(eyes still forward) Love you Mrs. Fatass.


Ruthie November 3, 2010 at 4:18 pm

Oh wow, how I relate to this…it sucks. It sucks to be in a situation, to be panicking, and know it’s irrational and a vast overreaction to whatever’s going on. My heart’s all clenched and tense right now just thinking about it.

I went to a therapist to help me cope with some depression and grieving, and she decided I was suffering from anxiety. Funnily enough I ran away before I got help because we ran out of money for it and I didn’t have faith that the therapy was really helping, but I think she was onto something there.

Also, I think it makes sense to spill your guts to people you don’t actually see in the physical world very often, especially over something like this. Online people can’t see your every move, you don’t see their faces wrinkle in concern when they glimpse at what they think is your anxiety manifesting. They’re there, they care, and if you’re confiding in them, hopefully they understand and sympathize as best they can. I love my online friends, some of them are the closest friends I have.

You write beautifully and I wish you the best. :3


redpene November 3, 2010 at 6:08 pm

Holy carp! I just penned (pun intended) a blog post on anxiety just a couple of days ago. My last episode kicked in Friday afternoon, hit its peak Saturday night and took until Tuesday to completely disappear. You’re not alone.

xx Pen.


Ms. M November 3, 2010 at 6:38 pm

*eyes forward*

Wow, I am so glad you hit publish. I can totally relate to every single thing in this post and I feel a lot less alone after reading it. I love the way you write & put us right in front of that CD with you. Keep writing for you – and for us!


merri November 3, 2010 at 7:24 pm

I love that you are so honest on your blog. Hug.


Julie Lost and Found November 3, 2010 at 7:38 pm

I too am so glad you hit publish.

You are NOT alone. I live with and have lived with crippling anxiety for as long as I can remember. I can truly empathize with every single word of your post.

You are an amazing writer and I believe writing is a wonderful outlet.

Having anxiety disorder does not make you crazy. You are human

I used to take paxil for several years and it helped my anxiety, but the sexual side effects were just not worth it and I finally weaned off of it.

I battle with it daily..that flight or fight response. I wake up anxious.

Some things that help me: cardio exercise, the breathing I learned in yoga, guided imagery with soft music but not too new agey, self talk during an anxiety attack…what is real? What is true? What can I do to control this? What is out of my control? Is there anything I can do right now? etc. and writing.

My little boy has a severe anxiety disorder and it breaks my heart to see him suffer, but also, because of my anxiety, I am able to understand him and empathize with him in ways others cannot so for that I am thankful, that I can let him know he’s not alone and that he’s a great little guy.

I love your blog and just hope that you know that 1) you’re not truly “crazy”, just crazy in a good way and that’s ok 2) you are not alone and 3) you are loved.

God bless you!!!


Laurie November 3, 2010 at 10:37 pm

I want to wrap you in a hug and tell you it is ok. Lots of people struggle with this. Professionally, you may know, I work MANY people who suffer from anxiety. Let me know if you want to talk, I have some thoughts that may be of assistance. Hang in there……there is so much GREATNESS about you, and even though the anxiety is a drag, it does make you who you are which is the greatest Fat Ass around!


JourneyBeyondSurvival November 3, 2010 at 10:45 pm

I’m trying to figure out what you could possibly need to hear. Especially after all that. Blog posts, pouring out of life. Eyes front.

Crazy. It seems that it’s harder to come to terms with for us after the label is slapped on [our ass]. Thing is, everyone around us already sees it all the time. It’s like how those extra [50] pounds only surprise us. We’re hiding it from ourselves with our head in the sand.

At least I was.
You are the same. A bumper sticker doesn’t change the fact that you’re still merging, maneuvering, and conquering traffic. It doesn’t matter whether you’re on the interstate, backroads, or dirt. You’re still driving.



chris November 4, 2010 at 1:19 am

we really do all have our stuff. I expect the worst and then mentally prepare for it…and I mean the worst. economic collapse, death. I know why I do what I do…it’s the whole rug pulled out from under me thing. I had it happen way too many times. But to never expect good things. wee bit crazy. I am on the bus with you.


Beth November 4, 2010 at 10:22 am

Yeah…so…just as I suspected all along. You, me…soul sistas.

I get this. Like, really REALLY get this. The limits, over-compensation, failed relationships, holding back, procrastinating for fear of failure. Yep. Get it. And if you’re writing, I’m reading.


Ryan @NoMoreBacon November 4, 2010 at 10:50 am

I’m just catching up from a day without a computer but your honesty is beyond admirable. Mine for so long hasn’t been anxiety so much as it has been trying to be everything for everybody. It’s kind of dumb but I really relate with that guy on Parenthood (Adam, I think). It hasn’t been until just recently that I’ve been able to tell be no and be honest with them that I can’t do everything they need me to do. Admitting I couldn’t do it was VERY difficult and you’ve done that amazingly eloquently here.

You may be anxious but you’re a pretty amazing friend.


Deb November 4, 2010 at 10:59 am

I don’t think you’re crazy. Really, I don’t. I know this, these feelings. They run in my family. And although I don’t know exactly how you feel, because we all feel it differently, I know it sucks. But having a lifeline is key. I sometimes think I’ve found mine, and other times it feels all outta control, like I’m gonna bust open in front of everyone. But you’ve got the jump on it. You’re outing yourself, getting it all out in the open. Busting out in front of everyone, but in your safe place. Good for you. I certainly don’t have a cure for you. If I did…well it wouldn’t be a secret. But, I don’t think you’re crazy. Brilliant, yes. But not crazy.



Betsy November 4, 2010 at 1:34 pm

PLEASE keep being you because you are fabulous and certainly NOT crazy. Anxiety doesn’t make you nuts it’s like Lisa said you just “have super-charged perceivers” and there are ways to treat those. So keep breathing (slowly) and keep writing.


Louise November 4, 2010 at 1:40 pm

It’s amazing to read these comments and see how many people are dealing with the same things. It means two things, you are not alone and there are lots of people, at least 45 who care a lot about you and want to you to feel loved and supported. So maybe this is a life line, and whatever you choppy waters are I hope you find you can navigate them a little better knowing you have this, and us.


Momma Hunt November 4, 2010 at 3:38 pm

Thank you for sharing, your honesty on this post, and all your others, is awe inspiring. You help all of us to realize that we all (no matter how put together we may appear) have our “stuff”


Amy November 4, 2010 at 3:57 pm

I suffer from the same anxieties. I am trying so hard to make myself face all of my fears and anxieties and realize there’s nothing there to hurt me, and it’s still very hard. I am most anxious about relationships with other people. Not just romantic relationships, but relationships in general. I have dealt with so much rejection in my life, that it has become a fear like being afraid of being mugged if you walk in a dark parking lot by yourself at night.

Whenever an activity comes up where I have to get out and mingle with others, even if it’s an activity I like/love, I have to force myself to go. I try every excuse in the book not to go, but now, I just tell myself to go. Show up. Make an effort. And even if nothing exciting happens, I always leave with the feeling that at least I tried. At least I went. Now I don’t have to regret not going or wonder what might’ve happened if I went.

This applies with writing. Now, blogging/journaling, no problems. I talked myself into entering the NaNoWriMo for the first time this year. Now, before I decided to do this, I had this idea for a novel floating around in my head. Everything was there. I wrote down a lot of these ideas. When I sat down to write, it feels like there is a literal wall between my brain and my fingers. Everything just disappears, and I know this is a fear thing. I overanalyze my ideas and begin fearing the rejection and failure and this makes me freeze up. All I can do is keep pushing at that wall and eventually, it’ll give (I hope). Either way, I am glad I making the effort.

I hope you at least try. Above all else, try. It won’t exactly cure the anxiety–that’s something you will (if you’re anything like me) deal with each and every time something comes up–but it’ll deafen the roar somewhat. You can do it. 🙂


Laurel November 5, 2010 at 9:36 am

Thanks for writing this, and no, you are not alone. I’ve dealt with it my whole life. I don’t want to medicate it, as it gives me tons of energy- who wouldn’t like all that adrenalin rush 80% of the day. But, when it goes over the edge, into a full blown panic attack, then it gets me down on myself for days. Mine is mostly social anxiety- did I make a fool of myself, is so and so mad at me. It is largely biological. I don’t need a reason for it to occur. My mother had it, I have it and my daughter has it. As far as your son goes, we all feel bad about what our kids inherit from us. When I saw my worst physical traits show up in them, I felt like apologizing, but we make our peace with that too. My daughter and I share tips and commiserate if we have a bad time with it. Remember, you have nothing to fear but fear itself!


Yum Yucky November 5, 2010 at 4:39 pm

I understand you. I struggled with it as child – at 9 or 10 years old. The anxiety made me chew at my fingers – literally. Not my nails – my actual FINGERS. I still have the scars to prove it. Is that crazy? I got no help or support. Somehow that made me stronger. I don’t know how. And I’m NOT telling you to forsake supporting your son (hell no, of course not) – just support him in a way that will make him stronger. (gosh, I hope this all make sense)


Quix November 5, 2010 at 5:25 pm


We all have our crazy. For example, I have 0 issue getting up on stage and performing, but I spent the last 6 months with some major anxiety over having to lead a meeting of 30-40 people each week.

Love your honesty, and I hope you continue to write, whether it be about hoohahs or your crazy or whatnot, for a long time! Because I like reading it!


Michele November 5, 2010 at 11:43 pm

I will add to the long list of commenters that are glad you published this post. I believe just getting it out in the open is healing. There is a ton of support out here in bloggland. Virtual arms are reaching out to support you and help you to carry this load. You will make it.


Erin @wildlifebio November 7, 2010 at 6:13 am

I am glad you posted this.
After the birth of my son (who had a horrible, traumatic birth and has had 4 surgeries so far as a result) I experienced true anxiety for the first time. It is awful and crippling and all consuming. I am going to counseling and the counseling seems to be helping. Writing to me has also been extremely helpful because I can’t vocalize feelings and thoughts like I can type them.
I am sorry you have to deal with this. But please write about it all you want or feel the need to.


Jenn November 16, 2010 at 7:19 am

I just wanted to say thank you for writing this post. You are definitely not alone and I can totally understand the frustration when people think you can just turn it off or they day “stop worrying”. Well I can’t! Unfortunately medication is the only option for me. I have tried everything. Yoga does nothing, sometimes a really long and intense workout will help if I’m really having a bad day. I workout til I just can’t go anymore. Always here for you if you need something or someone to talk to.


Rob Dyess January 12, 2011 at 3:17 pm

Sorry I missed this when it was originally posted. I get it.

Oh, and my son Henry is only 5 but seems to be exhibiting some of those same things that I have. Hope he can avoid it.




I'm Just Another Fat Girl January 12, 2011 at 9:09 pm

Thank you for sharing this.




The Wench January 13, 2011 at 7:17 am

Everyone’s crazy once you get to know them. 😉


Alyssa September 22, 2012 at 12:55 am

Mrs. FatAss, I met you today and loved you immediately because of who you are and what you write – and then I visited your blog and saw you also have anxiety and I loved you even more cuz I deal with the same stupid and annoying affliction. How wonderful though, that you can share your love of zumba and writing in this awesome blog, and be a kindred spirit to someone like me 🙂 See you tomorrow!


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