So how do you know if you have PTSD?
Are the symptoms waking up at 4:00 a.m, feeling nauseous beyond belief and like your life is spinning totally out of control?
Or am I just going into drama queen hypochondriac mode permanently?
Ugh.
I got triggered watching the news before I went to bed last night.
Philadelphia school children will have to wear masks when they return to school this fall.
Omg. Is there a sight more heartbreaking?
Of course there is. But this is now in my top ten. I went right to a mental image of young Julie and Eric in elementary school wearing backpacks and masks and couldn’t shake it.
I know, I know. It goes against everything I preach.
I should have shut the television off at that point but I continued to watch, and lucky me, at 11:00 at night I learned the CDC added new coronavirus symptoms making you eligible for testing: chills, repeated shaking, muscle pain, purple spots on toes...
Purple spots on toes?!
Oh. It’s a sign of blood clots.
Blood clots?!
What the hell kind of disease is this?
It’s really feeling like the end of the world.
So I probably didn’t go to bed in the best mental state.
Once I realized I wasn’t falling back asleep at 4:00 a.m., I went downstairs. Apparently that was my next mistake.
Up until this weekend, my years long routine has remained the same, even all through quarantine. I wake up hours before Gary on Saturday morning and straighten up the downstairs. Once everything is all clean and beautiful, I eat a bowl of cereal and watch one of my taped food tv shows as a reward to myself. It’s an especially great plan this time of year during my favorite food porn show, Top Chef. I sit here all zen and proud of myself in my clean, pretty living room.
I guess this Saturday I skipped part one of the Saturday plan and went right for the Honey Nut Cheerios.
What’s insane is that I didn’t even realize it until I came downstairs this morning.
How did I not notice it yesterday?
Holy hell, it’s such a mess in here that I can’t even count on newly unemployed Gary to straighten up, he’ll do a half assed job and make me nuts. Omg, he’s so messy!
So right now, I’m debating my choices. It’s 5:30 a.m. If I start now, I can have the downstairs looking great by 8:00 a.m. easily.
Just in time for me to head upstairs and start work. Grrr.
If I don’t do it, though, I’m going to sit here getting more progressively upset by the minute. I can’t function in chaos like this. And I’m going to end up taking my anger and resentment out on Gary, when just a little over an hour ago I was tossing and turning in bed, crazed with worry that he might get the virus. I’m not gonna lie, I went down a pretty dark path mentally, as one does at 4:00 a.m. in the quiet dark. Especially if one is a stark raving lunatic.
It’s what drove me out of bed.
Okay, I think I’ve worked this out by writing about it.
Just call me Susie Homemaker 😜
Sigh...
I know it’s an oxymoron, but Happy Monday.
