hollyslowly: BtVS; Buffy gently touches Angel's fangs. (You were the first mile where my)
So a fun thing that happens every month is that my baseline anxiety level amps up by a factor of about 10 either right before or right at the start of my period. TMI. I've been on the same anti-depressant for several years, and miraculously that is mostly under control, but I'm still about 5'10" of anxiety most of the time, let alone when my hormones are doing the weird thing. Last week was ~The Special Time,~ and I was really wrought up for the whole day on Wednesday.

At the beginning of June a 22 year old kid from the next county over was killed in Afghanistan, along with two other soldiers. My podunk county actually has a regional airport, because this used to be where the corporate headquarters of a Fortune 50 company was located, so they flew his body here last Wednesday to bring him home. If you've never visited a small town - maybe just a small Southern town - funeral processions are a big deal. When one goes by you in the opposite lane, you pull to the side of the road until it passes. The hearse had a big escort - our cops, firefighters, and assorted Army guys lead it through town, and all along the route, people lined up on the side of the road to pay their respects. It was sad as hell.

Anyway, my, like, boyfriend or whatever (????????) texted me that afternoon to say hello and asked how I was, and in the spirit of 2017 being the year I'm fucking honest about my feelings, I told him that I was having a pretty bad anxiety day, and about the kid and the funeral procession. He asked if he could do anything to help, and I made a joke about him ending my work day early, because I really have to work at being vulnerable and my brain was trying to eat itself. About an hour later, he texted again and asked if he could come over and see me, even though we had plans to see each other the next day. And, in a surprise to myself, I actually wanted him to come over. So he did, and I sat on my couch in my pajamas and we watched a dumb comedy and he cuddled the shit out of me. Why is he so sweet, why is this going so well, and other questions: at nine.
hollyslowly: TOS; Sarek looking at Kirk. (Your son meant more to me than)
Can Holly face the truly terrifying human interaction of her twice-annual hair cut without the aid of chemical intervention? ONLY TIME WILL TELL, however, Past Me, a doubting Thomas if ever there were one, has packed Future Me half a dose of Xanax.

My anxiety seems to have gotten a lot worse recently, and I can't tell if it's because my grandmother died last month (yes, it sucked just as much as watching the first one die), because of national fuckery, or because my antidepressant has gotten less effective in dealing with it after three years. Maybe I'm the lucky winner of all three! I've already thought about calling and cancelling my appointment twice this morning, even though I literally have not had a hair cut since June. Maybe my antidepressant IS still effective, and it is the voice in my head saying, "Suck it up, buttercup."

Anyway, I was thinking about getting a pixie cut, because my preference is short hair always, but I might also just get my current style cut off at the chin, because apparently this cut makes my face look pleasant. Allegedly. And let's be clear, the person alleging this is my sister. Let's clarify further that I have started saying "let's be clear" on a daily basis as a tribute to President Obama.

Probably should not have had the second coffee. I am wearing the proper shoes for a long walk after Schrodinger's haircut, so whether or not that occurs I'm going to try to walk it off for a couple of hours. I did that last night after work regardless of improper footwear and earned two blisters, which was my own damn fault, which is also an accurate description of the origin of most of my problems.


hollyslowly: TOS; Kirk looking down, Spock looking at Kirk. (Default)

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