It's been an interesting 24 hours here at casa Crazy. I had company yesterday; my Aunt in the morning to train for tomorrow, and my friend Karen here in the afternoon because I was lonely. All I can say is Hot Damn! for friends, because they can get you through some stupid shit. Long story short, I had a little panic attack because one of the boys had a tiny bruise and I didn't know exactly where it came from. His mom was fine, the boy is fine, I am now fine. And you know what? I have decided that yesterday's attack was my last one.
I've been reading about anxiety and mastery of panic attacks from a therapist's manual. I've been seeing a behaviorist. Last night we went back through and rehashed everything that I've reacted to, everything I've learned, and all my triggers. I know what causes this, and I now know how to let it go. I am done being hijacked by my own hind brain. I'm letting go of the fear, letting go of the learned behavior that causes the anxiety and panic, and I'm letting go of the anxiety and panic themselves.
Part of this means letting go of some of the rules here at daycare. It means letting go of some of what I had wanted to do, and releasing a lot of my expectations. It means reclaiming some of the space I had used back into family space, and removing a lot of things from the one room I'll be using, so that the space is safer, and I can see everyone at all times. As far as I'm concerned, this is all fine. It's great, in fact! And while the behaviorist's program was tough, and will be for another week or so, I am definitely seeing improvement. I emailed him questions and got answers back this morning, and things are getting better all the time.
This job will always be a hard one. There will always be days that I will need to step outside, that I will be so frustrated and blown that shoveling raw sewage will seem like an improvement. But on those days I will give up. To hell with our plans, we will survive, find a way to laugh about it, and just stay safe. Safe knowing that this is a good place to be, that we love each other, and that bad days end. Bad weeks end. Bad years end. And there are always good bits to be found within those times. I'd forgotten that.
Now, let me not mislead you: once this tiny baby is out and getting on with the growing I will be back on my meds. ASAP. Anxiety and panic may be learned behaviors, but there is a medical component as well. I have always had a problem with depression (I run out of seritonin and LOOK OUT!) plus I've dealt with post-partum before. That sucker's tough. So I'm not going to fuck around. But from now until something explodes or there is a real emergency, this crap is over, and I am very happy about that.