An Open Letter to My Stomach

Dear Tummy,

I am speaking to you, the tummy on the inside.  We will get to the tummy on the outside later.  I wish to tell you that you suck, and I am really tired of you being so temperamental all the time.  I understand that you are closely tied to my anxiety issues, but seriously – give it a rest!  I am tired of feeling like I’m 180 years old, instead of 34.  Really, 34 is quite old enough.  I am tired of the medical community looking at me like I am insane because you can’t behave yourself.  Get over yourself and let me feel better!

Now, to the tummy on the outside… I’ve got your number.  Believe me, friend, your days are numbered.  I have taken control of my physical well-being, and you, my friend, are on your way out the door.  My BeachBody products, heart rate monitor, and stubborn will to kick your flabby ass are on my side.  You, you have carbs on your side, but I am kicking those to the curb as well.  You and your pudgy companions in my arms can just hit the road, because I have a wedding in 10 months and I plan to look smokin’ hot.

So, suck it, stomach.  Suck it, belly fat.  And suck it, bat-wings.  You are all on notice.  It is time for you to vacate the premises and let me finally feel normal again.

Love, Me

Now, on to the issue of anxiety.  If you have ever suffered from an anxiety/panic attack, you know what I am talking about.  You might have had one and never even knew it.  I suffered from them for years growing up, but always thought it was just a bad asthma attack, or allergies.  As I got older, though, they became more and more apparent.

Unfortunately, anxiety runs in my family like a river.  Nearly everyone has it, but rarely talks about it.  Until you start talking about it.  And then the dam breaks and the torrent comes forth.  I had my first nervous breakdown this fall, after several years of a shitty marriage, one year of a shitty separation and impending divorce, and then a year of a shitty job situation.  I think after all of that, anyone would be ready for a little break.  I went through some intensive partial hospitalization group therapy, working with others like me who have just been through the wringer and needed to recoup.  I met some awesome people, and I absolutely love it.

Now that I am back on my own, I am still suffering from panic attacks.  They aren’t as severe, and don’t come on as often, but they are still nasty as hell.  Unfortunately, as you might gather from my letter above, my stomach is usually the first thing hit once that roller coaster feeling starts up in my chest.  Sure, sometimes a hot (scalding, basically) bath will stave off that feeling… but not always.  I have taken 3 such baths today (so far make that 4), and still feel crappy.

Here’s the kicker.  I woke up feeling anxious.  I didn’t have a triggering event.  I woke up and felt shitty.  Maybe I forgot to take one of my night meds last night, but it is a horrible feeling to wake up panicked.  I have a doctor’s appointment this week, so I hope things get better.  Feeling like shit is for the birds.  I’m SO over it.

So, for now, I plan to dry myself off… medicate myself… and go to bed.