I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired...except in this case I'm actually sick. I think I might have "Kentucky flu" which is a term that I made up and basically consists of allergies turning into a sinus infection turning into bronchitis. Everyone around here has bad sinus problems and if you don't take care of them the right way (and most of us don't) they turn into something bad. Anyway, I feel achy and nauseated, and generally icky and it made my cycle start a week early. At least that's what I'm blaming it on. I'm going to go to the doc tomorrow to find out for sure.
I really need to get a handle on my anxiety. Pete and I went to a local hotel last weekend. It was nice because we got to take Sam swimming, we ate at the local steak house, and bought some new books. But I had an anxiety attack that evening because the LAST time I was at a hotel and in a swimming pool I had Toby. I thought I calmed down but at 2:00 am Pete started feeling anxious and we ended up checking out (me still in my pajamas) and going home because we wanted to see Sam.
Some days I think I'm getting better and some days I think I'm getting worse. I pruned my friends' list on FB. I know it might sound spiteful, but if I hadn't heard from the person since Toby died I deleted them. Well, that's not true. There's a LOT of people I haven't heard from since he died. What I should say is that if I hadn't heard from them since BEFORE he died I deleted them. That got rid of about 100 people on my list. Some days I want to deactivate the darn thing but then I start thinking about all the hard work I've got into the photo albums and stuff and I don't want to. Plus, there's a lot of people that I would never hear from if it weren't for FB.
Anyway, back to anxiety. We have friends coming in this weekend from England and I'm feeling anxious about that. I was already having anxiety over them visiting (nothing personal, I feel the same way anytime anyone comes over) but then I got sick which means all my cleaning is going to have to be last minute and that's made me even more anxious. Plus, I can't spend time with Sam like I want to when I'm sick and that makes me anxious which makes me feel worse...you see where this is going?
Anyway, on top of worries that every good Southern woman has when company is coming such as what to cook, if my house is clean enough, and do we have enough towels set out for them I am also worrying about things like what if they want to do something one day and I'm having one of my freak out sessions and can't leave the house? Last weekend we went to Court Day, one of our favorite days of the year and I cried all the way home. Why? No reason. There's never any reason. I just suddenly felt the distance from our house and even though it couldn't have been more than an hour, I felt very far away and scared. They mentioned going to a water park (all of the ones nearby are unfortunately outdoors and closed right now) and taking a "day trip" to Arkansas ( a 10 hour drive one way) and that freaked me out enough that I had to lock myself in the bathroom for about 30 minutes. To be fair, though, Pete looked a little pale, too, so at least I am not alone in this.
I do think the medicine is helping but I understand that it's not a "cure" and I'm not so sure that the Klonopin isn't psychological. Like my robe. Or rather, Pete's robe. I wore it a few times with Toby and it's really soft and he liked to curl into it. Now, sometimes, I freak out if I don't have the robe. I have to run through the house, searching for it. Once I put it on, the house doesn't feel so big and I can almost hide in it and it makes me feel better. I would feel crazy except I know that Pete carries around some of Toby's clothing in his backpack. They were starting to smell a little but rather than washing them he put them in individual Ziploc baggies. We can be crazy but still be organized, see? So I guess we all have something. Mom still sleeps with his little head pillow.
I will accept that crying at the drop of a hat is going to be a normal occurrence for awhile. The anxiety attacks, on the other hand, are something else. I can't expect people to walk on eggshells around me but even I don't know what is going to set me off. Looking at his pictures, I feel fine. Talking about him, fine. Thinking about driving to Nashville throws me into a fit because the last time I did that I had him in the car. There's no way to judge what's going to make me feel bad and when. I guess I can accept that, too.
Both of our dogs died last week. When Yeller died, Sam asked if we were going to go to the hospital and get him and "Baby Brother" back. Sometimes I hear Sam singing songs about Toby.
But here's something weird...When Pete buried Yeller in the field in the back, Sam was in the house with Mom. He didn't see Pete bury him at all. He couldn't have seen him, even if he had been in the kitchen, looking out the back door. (Which he wasn't.) Yet, later that night Sam was talking and casually mentioned that Pete had buried Yeller with his stuffed rabbit and a rotten apple. Actually, it was a tattered ball. We all kind of stared at Sam and Pete confirmed that it was true. When asked who told Sam that, he got nervous and said that he didn't want to talk about it.
Strange things are happening at our house.
I've been on a roll. The other blog http://www.krumlovgirl.blogspot.com/ is updated, too.