Type A, for Anxious

Let’s talk about something…

As I’ve mentioned before, I am a Type A person. I have a Type A personality - To. The. Core.

Most of the time, I speak those words with confidence and pride. It is directly related to my organization, problem-solving, and planning skills. I feel like it allows me to simplify things – processes, plans, even thoughts. I believe it pushes me to be more assertive, and passionate, and strong-willed. It’s what makes me chant, “Girls!” right along with Beyoncé, when she asks, “Who run the world?”

But, medically speaking, a Type A person is not the most desirable of personalities. We are uptight and particular. Things, like straying from our plans or outlines, can upset us - physically. We get stressed easily and wear it longer. We have high blood pressure and a prevalence of heart issues. We are more prone to anxiety disorders, and thank God we find people to put up with us…

Our laid-back counterparts, with Type B personalities, live much longer. They can go with the flow and let things roll off their backs. They have simply mastered the “subtle art of not giving a f*ck.” In so many ways, I am envious. I want to let go of things. I want Heath to put a cup on the back of the sink and for my brain to tell me, “that’s alright; it’s no big deal.” Instead, I have a little itch in the back of my mind that continues, until I move that stupid cup. Ugh…

The particularity was certainly something that I was gifted by my father. I once made fun of how he stacked the mail, next to the toaster, biggest envelopes on bottom and smallest on top. Or, how he would neatly fold his paper towel, to set underneath his cup of iced water. Or, how all the items in the center compartment of his truck have a place, and are not to be touched. Today, that is me. And, thankfully, over time, I have watched some of my father’s particularities fade; there is hope for me yet!

Nevertheless, this personality of mine has always made me a bit, what I lovingly call, “crazy.” I assess things, I over-think, and I base my decisions off all of these emotions. This has made me a bit overwhelming, for lack of a better word, in the past. As you might remember from previous ramblings of mine, I have frequently obsessed about being away from my kids, the risks of SIDS, and many other things. I would dump those concerns on anyone with ears who made eye contact with me. Spewing my apprehensions made me feel comforted and more in control. That was really what my obsession was about – having control. Kids seemed to take that concept away from me. Once you have children, you quickly learn how not in control you are. You think things will go a certain way, and HA! Yeah….no, kids have their own agendas. And, ultimately, God runs the show.

For several years, I tried to explain to Heath how anxious I could get, over seemingly not very big things. I mean, everyone around me was telling me that I was over-thinking. I would agree, but couldn’t stop. 

“I’m just an uptight person.”

“It isn’t hurting anyone, by taking extra precautions.”

“I just get nervous.”

“I can keep it under control.”

"I can control it."

I seriously could control it, for several years. That is, until I couldn’t.

Almost two years ago, we made a very impulsive decision to buy a new home. We walked into a home, not planning on buying it, and then made an offer on it just three days later. The whole thing was a whirlwind, and so very much not like me. Many nights, I cried, thinking we made a huge mistake. We had three kids, and then we added another mortgage. We spent about six months showing our previous home. That meant, to this Type A woman, I spent six months cleaning the house like a crazy person, limiting the kids’ activities, and keeping them contained to particular rooms. We simplified, and organized, and planned for our uncertain future. And, I cried. I cried a lot. Honestly, I didn’t know what else to do. I was, to put it bluntly, “freaking out.” I like plans. I like knowing what the next step is. I like familiarity. The lack of control was draining me. Several evenings I would sneak out of bed, go to the living room, do fire-breaths, write in a journal, and cry. I tried so hard to control it. If I could just have a good cry, I would be fine the next day. 

One particular night, I was sitting on the couch, writing in my journal about my neurosis. I had tears streaming down my face. I was just…worrying…about nothing, and everything. I didn’t know what to think about our future. I was overwhelmed, and stressed, and tired. Heath came out from the bedroom and saw me. I tried to dismiss him, telling him that I was just a bit overwhelmed. 

This was the first time that Heath suggested that I talk to my doctor.

“I can control it,” I told him. “I’m fine.”

More months passed by. We sold our home, and decided to move into the fixer-upper that we bought. When I say fixer-upper, I can’t even begin to explain to you what that meant. We set up a temporary living situation in the lower-level of the home, with a very make-shift, but functioning kitchen. The upstairs living area, we gutted down to the studs. The environment was unorganized, hectic, and…made me crazy. I hated living in such an unorganized mess. Even better, I work part-time from home, so I got to be in this mess all day, every day – just looking around at all the things that needed to be done.

Within all of this, my brain decided to focus my worry, anxiety, and apprehensions on the safety of the kids. I mostly blame it on the unfamiliarity of the house, the walls, the layout – it didn’t feel like “home.” I still believe I have a somewhat rational fear for the safety of my kids. I mean, what mom doesn’t worry about her children constantly? But, it got to be too much. I started obsessing over it. I tried to control it. I tried to vent my way through it. One morning, I couldn’t stop my thoughts, and I actually became physically ill, worrying about the kids. Just worrying…

I couldn’t control it after all...

I called Heath and told him, “I need to talk to Dr. B.”

I imagine he was silently praising the Lord, thankful that I finally swallowed my pride.

When the words poured from my mouth, and into Dr. B’s ears, she immediately responded with, “I knew it was only a matter of time before you talked to me about this.” Unlike me, she wasn’t dismissing all of my rants. She was taking note, knowing that one day I would be ready for, well, help.

I was prescribed anxiety medicine. I was told that it may just be this season of my life, and I may find a time in my life that I can stop taking it – once again being able to control my thoughts a bit. But, for now, why fight it? Why suffer? Why cry my eyes out with worry?

So, I left the doctor’s office to go pick up my prescription. I was, ironically, anxious. Ridiculous, right? I called Heath, doing what you ask? Crying. Of course, I was. I’m going to be on meds. I was going to be taking a pill daily. There would be side-effects. What if they changed me? What if I could never go back off of them? What if? What if? What if?

I drove right passed the pharmacy that evening and didn’t fill my prescription.

The next day, I called the doctor’s office, basically asking the nurse to talk me into taking the medicine. And, she did. I went and bought them, and took them, and prayed. 

Then…I felt better. I felt so much better. I didn’t realize how “out of hand” it had gotten, until I was no longer dealing with it. That was when I decided that I wanted to talk to my family about it. It wasn’t until after I spoke about my experiences that I found out - both sides of my family have a history of anxiety. One family member, never really knew why she had anxiety and fought it her whole life (back in the “olden days,” before we understood). It made me sad.

So, I started talking about it to everyone who was willing to listen.

I once shied away from the topic, or felt the need to justify it. I know how important mental health is (obviously! Psych background!). But, having to be on this side of it, when you feel like the spotlight is on you, is not as easy as it is taught. Nevertheless, as time goes on, I become more confident in myself. I feel this weird sense of responsibility to talk about my anxiety. I hope I can make others feel more comfortable with their own struggles, and perhaps encourage them to talk to their doctor. It is not uncommon. It is not weird. It isn’t something that we all need to whisper about behind closed doors.

I know, for some, me talking about this makes them feel uncomfortable. Sorry, but really…I’m not sorry. This is the reality for some of us – more of us, I think, than you realize. 

I wanted to tell you all, because if you want to know much more about my journey in this life, you have to know this integral part of who I am. 

I have anxiety. And, I take medicine for it. And, that is okay.

Thankful Calendar

After yesterday's post about Halloween, I thought I should "get up with the times" and discuss Thanksgiving. What a wonderful time of year, right?

This year, I saw on Pinterest.com a 'Thankful Calendar.' Every day until Thanksgiving, you would write down what you were thankful for and put it on the calendar. It is a countdown I guess. Although we really should be thankful every day, it's hard to stop sometimes and just thank the Lord. We are so incredibly blessed in our lives, or at least I feel like I am. I try very hard not to take it for granted. We all forget sometimes though. I recently saw a pin that said, Only in the U.S. would we spend a day being thankful for what we have, then spend the entire next day trampling over each other for new stuff. True story! But, I still love Black Friday. :)

Anyway, I want to just state right now that I am not crafty. I do not have the patience and I don't have a lot of craft items on hand. For example, I've never owned a bottle of Mod Podge in my life. I just got a glue gun a couple of years ago, from my mom, and I burn myself incessantly!

So, I thought that when Lucy and I made this, we were doing pretty well:

We decided to hang it on the fridge, at least this year. As you will also notice, I created the calendar for up to the 24th, rather than the 22nd that Thanksgiving is on this year. I hope to reuse this calendar in the future and added a couple more days. Each day, we all say what we are thankful for. Since 'family, friends, four-legged family members and friends, food, shelter, faith, and a few others, are already written on our calendar (not in the picture; I added more after I took it), we try to think of other things - small things in life that often go unappreciated.

Heath has been thankful for daycare, technology, football, stuff like that. I've been thankful for cell phones, cars, and baking. We usually explain them a little bit to each other, but just write down a word or two. Lucy's are great! They make me laugh. She always says, "Mommy, Daddy, and baby Olive." It makes my heart melt with love, while wanting to burst with pride! But, she has also said, Aurora (her baby doll), Bonnie (her stuffed horse), her blankey, pumpkins, and really anything in the general direction she is looking. haha.

We have also decided to be thankful in other ways. We have started to say grace before meals. And, we decided to be better church goers. This last weekend, we decided on which one and would like to start going consistently.

It feels great to stop asking for forgiveness, when I take this life for granted. I still complain about stupid, stupid stuff; but, I'm getting better...

Tonight, I think I will put down that I am thankful for...my blog readers. :) Thank you for always supporting me and telling me that I'm not the craziest momma on the block! Have a great hump day!

Push Prize

The other night was a wreck! Lucy had yet another molar coming in! It was giving her the worst time last night. We rubbed a whole lot of Orajel on it and then finally gave her some pain reliever. I sat in her room, in the glider, and held her while she slowly fell back to sleep.

She fought it the best she could; but, she finally fell asleep holding onto my necklace's pennant. She often plays with it, when awake. She has always been fascinated by the sparkle. But, that night, I realized that she was actually comforted by it. She reached for it and held on tight until she was in a deep sleep. It must be her way of knowing that it is me and that I am still there. :) :)

After this realization, I felt wonderful. And, now I will tell you why...

Back when I was pregnant, I had heard about husband's getting their wives gifts after the delivery of their child. However, I had never heard the term for such a present, "Push Prize".

Heath introduced me to the term; apparently, he had been doing his husbandly research and noticed that this was a new trend that was becoming more and more common. It is just a little something to show the wife, and new mom, that you appreciate her. :) And, it also tugs at those heart strings.

Heath surprised me in front of all of our family and friends with a little jewelry box, right after Lucy was born. I was so wrapped up in everything else the last month or so, that I forgot that the supposed 'push prize' even existed. Therefore, when he pulled out the gift, I was super surprised! It made me cry of course; with my emotions already running on high, I was a mess!

He wrote the sweetest and most uplifting card you can imagine, and inside the box was the necklace. It is almost identical to the one you see above. I instantly fell in love with it! And, I instantly put it on.

I wear it always. I wear it in the shower, to work out, everywhere! I even got a new silver chain for it this Christmas. The only time I take it off is to wear another, usually costume, necklace to go out. Then, I get home and put this one right back on.

It had always made me feel close to Lucy. Whenever I am away from her and I pray at night, I will kiss it. Whenever I take it off, I kiss it first. It always had such a special meaning for me. Now, it has even more.

The necklace, at the end of the day, is just a necklace. But, it always represented a little more than that. I feel a bond with Lucy when I wear it and now, I know she feels a bond with me when she holds it. How wonderful?!

So, to all those men out there (which I doubt many, if any, actually read this), I recommend a 'push prize'. It is a win, win, win, win situation. :)

Heath is wondering now what he could possibly get me for our next children that could mean as much! haha. :) He has some time to think about it.

Health Check

I've always been a pretty paranoid person. You can ask my husband. He is constantly saying, "Nothing bad is going to happen; you just have to trust that." Well, hunny-dew, easier said than done.

Lucy will roll over to her side in the middle of the night and I'll see it on the video monitor.

"Heath, she's on her side. What do you think? Do you think I should go roll her back over? I worry about her." Of course, I've woken him up. He doesn't even roll over and look at me or the monitor anymore.

"She's fine Cori; go to sleep."

"But, I worry about her Heath."

"She's fiiiine."

Well, about three-weeks ago, I was changing out of my work clothes and into my lounging around the house garb. I went to make a bra adjustment and noticed a small knot on my right breast. Hmmm.....I felt a little more and then said something to Heath. He felt too.

"You should probably go get that checked out."

"Yeah, I probably should."

That was basically where it ended. It was small and not at all what I imagined a cancer lump would be like. In fact, it was more of a knot than a lump; so, I blew it off. I kept telling myself that it was something to do with the pregnancy and/or breast feeding.

About a week and a half later, I was changing again and doing the same bra adjustment. There it was, again. This time it seemed easier to find. Larger? I'm not sure; but it seemed more prominent. I tried to talk myself into the fact that it was nothing. Why? I'm not sure. I made an additional comment to Heath about it; but, he didn't stress an appointment either. I think both of us were just trying to be optimistic and not jump to conclusions......or some would say being ignorant.

It was that weekend that I spent a lot of time with Lucy. I put her to bed one night and began to pray. I prayed about all of the usual things and then thought of a few others that I wanted to pray for. When thinking about it, I occasionally pray for a mom I read about who is currently battling cancer; she has two young children. I remember reading her story for the first time and how it broke my heart. Well, it impacted me so much that she and her family are routinely in my prayers.

It dawned on me that I was doing what she had done - and so many others I've heard about. I was putting this appointment off. I was talking myself out of worrying. For what? Why? It was shear laziness on my part. I have good insurance, a good doctor, and sick-leave at work. What the heck was I waiting for?

So, my psyche got the best of me and I called for an appointment on Monday morning, last Monday. I got in for the very next day - possibly the soonest I've ever gotten in! I was very apprehensive and I think the visit actually made Heath a bit nervous too. When I made the appointment and she said, "What's this for?", I had to answer, "I noticed a bump on my breast." It really made the whole situation hit home. Yes, it could be nothing; but, what were your first thoughts? Exactly.

There I was, in the waiting room, again telling myself it was nothing. I soon enough got to the room and my doctor came in. She studied the knot and squeezed it a bit. It wasn't sore and you could move it around - two things I've been told are good. She said, "Well, I'm not worried." Whew!! Relief. Then she said, "It is close enough to the surface; how about we cut it out and see what it is?

"Umm.....okay-?"

I trust my doctor 100%; so, I wasn't going to question her. Plus, I kind of wanted to see what it was myself. Next thing I know, I was walking into the clinic prep-room. I assume it's where they do stitches and that kind of stuff. I laid down anticipating that cutting my boob open would be very painful!

She got the numbing needle and started to inject the medicine. Honestly, it was probably one of the least painful shots I've ever had. It was surprising to say the least. Then, she said, "Ohp, it popped."

What do you mean it popped? I quickly imagined some sort of ketchup packet like thing exploding and the remnants floating around in my breast forever.

"It was just a cyst. I thought it was too hard to be a cyst; but, that's what it was. I hit it with the needle and it just burst." She then stated that she thought it was a something-something-noma. I didn't know and I didn't ask.

Of course I followed up with what causes a cyst and that type of thing; but, I was more relieved that it 1) wasn't serious and 2) I didn't have to have stitches in my boob! I will admit though, I was a little bummed that I didn't get to see it. I was semi-excited for that.

When I called Heath, the first thing he said was, "Good news?" It made me realize how much he was secretly worrying about me. He always tries to be so strong, for me. But, I am so thankful most times.

This entire experience has changed me. It was nothing; but it could have been something! And not once did my doctor or the nurses make me feel stupid for coming in. I never felt that it was a waste of time and even now, I don't feel that way. I need to guarantee myself that I am doing everything I can to keep myself healthy - if not for me, for Lucy.

I strongly encourage everyone to get a yearly physical, if you don't already. And, I encourage you to get questionable things checked out. It took two hours of my day and it put my mind at rest. If you are contemplating a visit, please go. You won't regret it. Maybe it's good to be paranoid sometimes.