Emotions (and Capitalization) Run Amok
Posted by Moose on February 4th, 2008. Filed under: My Brain Needs a Drink.Question for the women (men, please feel free to hide behind a beer): is there a day in the hormonal cycle labeled PANIC? If so, consider that day on the calendar marked. I spent the entire weekend in a state of mid-level terror. I’m not about to give birth, I don’t have a large work project due, I’m not in the midst of some sort of personal crisis. There are just some days when going to the grocery store calmly is JUST ASKING TOO MUCH. Especially when you misjudge the start time of the Super Bowl and find yourself buffeted by the eddies of a pre-Super Bowl Trader Joe’s, where 20-something men with buzz cuts and arms full of liquor bottles trod on your toes because the bags of potato chips clenched between their teeth are blocking anything less than three feet off the ground. Better my toes than someone’s toddler, I suppose.
I do know that hormones make me extra susceptible to Undiluted Emotion. But panic? Is that normal? I’ve learned to write “Beware sudden onslaught of tears” on certain days in the calendar and “Hide kitchen knives” on others, but feeling like I’m about to jump out of my skin? Like my brittle skeleton wants out because I have to choose between beef and chicken? Is this another in the dreaded cycle of monthly Crazy or am I just falling prey to the feminine temptation to make Everything About My Ovaries?
But, you know what? I ACCEPT THAT. So do my ovaries.
I wonder if getting your period is like being old. You’re just as you always were, only A LOT MORE SO. Ever notice how curmudgeons just get more crotchety as they age? When I get hormonal, I get a lot more high-strung. (Amazingly, such a thing IS possible.)
My panic seemed to be based in mediocrity somehow. Like there was someone better equipped than I to fill my shopping cart with frozen pizza, I guess. Mediocrity is one of those things that utterly terrifies me. (I suppose it’s less a “thing” and more a “vague, free-floating concept”.) Failure is easier to reason away because it could be argued that the greatest minds in history – Einstein, Edison, Carrot Top – failed hundreds, if not thousands, of times before inventing the light bulb or a mop of vegetable-colored hair that makes kittens weep. Which means I don’t have to be a failure until I die, after which I assume I won’t care. Until then, I’m just one short step away from blinding success.
I’m trying to abandon the intestinal sensation known as Queasy, Abject Terror that follows thoughts of Not Achieving Life Plan. In the end, playing frisbee with the dog will probably count far more than writing the Great American Blog Post while crocheting doilies from Tibetan goat hair with my toes. But this grand plan of Getting Over Myself requires inspecting the root cause. Is my fear of mediocrity a lack of self-esteem? Delusions of grandeur? Or a normal trajectory on the bell-curve of neuroses?
I’m not entirely sure and suspect I won’t figure it out by the time I have to leave for work. (Maybe that’s the answer to my question. Work. I’m probably just trying to do too much – hold down a full-time job, send out freelance writing, do my own writing, keep the house from falling down around my ears, and hold two dinner parties in three days. A parenthetical recipe for Insanity.) I do know that yesterday’s Fear of Failure/Mediocrity/Panic Brought on by the Phases of the Moon really messed with my ability to fill the pantry with delicious snacks. It felt like I had 9,000 other things to do and BY GOD, GROCERY SHOPPING WASN’T ONE OF THEM. But this story does have a happy ending. You will be relieved to know that I made it through the store without shrieking at any hapless bystanders and am currently in possession of cheesy pretzels.
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February 4th, 2008 at 8:57 am
God, it is SO obvious. You aren’t nuts (well, you ARE, but not Britney nuts), you are suffering tater tot withdrawal. Duh.
February 4th, 2008 at 9:18 am
Dude, did you just read my email? I hope I didn’t inspire this. Just cry it out…or yell it out…and then put on some Beyonce and convince yourself you are that hot, successful, together woman who’s worth a damn. Because you SO are.
I’m about to call the AA (which over here is the automobile association, btw!) so I can have our car towed back to the dealer since they jacked it up in their “service” and it won’t start. Nice.
February 4th, 2008 at 10:20 am
Mere: You are SO RIGHT. This just proves Life Theory No. 1: All problems can be solved with food. Preferably tater tots and cocktails.
Nora: No worries – I wrote this before I read your email.
I find it telling that I head straight for existential crisis rather than realizing that I’ve just over-extended myself and maybe I should stop doing that.
Looking back the next day, when perspective has been regained, I think “Wow, woman. Take a breath and chill out.” But it all feels so immediate and real and pressing at the time.
February 4th, 2008 at 12:26 pm
Dude, why don’t we just order takeout for Ladies Night? Or better yet, let’s all chip in and just buy a chocolate cake from tartine and have done! To hell with dinner. Just have cake.
And yes, every time my minstrels start singing, it’s like the end of the world for 24 hours. I’m a failure. My friends don’t really like me. My husband is sorry he married me. I’m hideous and probably barren. My face is collapsing. I have grey hair. My life is a waste and it’s too late to change. I’m a terrible writer and all the good ideas are already taken, so why bother?
Seriously. Just go take a bath with bubbles and a glass of something soothing and preferably 100-proof and repeat to thyself, “This too shall pass.”
February 4th, 2008 at 1:17 pm
Ah, the joys of no plumbing. The date was September 1994 and I’ve been sane ever since. You have my sympathy.
February 4th, 2008 at 1:48 pm
Now I want tater tots and cocktails.
And I need to hear more about these cheesy pretzels of which you speak.
(Also? Hugs.)
February 4th, 2008 at 4:34 pm
Dude, dip the tater tots into nacho cheese! It will help you! (somehow I’m always talking about cheese in my comments. I’ll work on that.) The chocolate cake will also definitely help. Mm.
Although really, what will help you is clearing your (metaphorical, of course) plate a bit–you do sound very busy! Little wonder you’re anxious and panic-stricken.
February 4th, 2008 at 9:42 pm
Don’t know if this would help with the menses, but I used to cure/aggravate depression with an entire bag of Nachos Doritos AND an entire bag of Nabisco’s Coconut Chocolate Chip cookies (back when they still made them, in the 80′s). Sugar and salt! And my gums would itch for a whole day, after.
February 4th, 2008 at 10:01 pm
You know? It could have been worse. You could have watched TLC’s “10 years younger” in that state.
I did, and now I’m quite sure that no only are people looking at my fat and my grey roots, now my yellow, chipping teeth are putting me over the hill before I can see the top!
Do you want to nominate me for Biggest Loser, What Not to Wear, or 10 Years Younger first?
February 5th, 2008 at 8:00 am
You need to go DURING the super bowl, yo.
February 5th, 2008 at 8:26 am
How I know that I am a bad person? My first thought when I read your post: Oh, thank god, I’m not the only one who does this. Seriously, there is always one day where the sight of dirty dishes makes me want to cry because, clearly, I am a failure for not having magic self-cleaning dishes. I find that carbs and sugar always help immensely – yum, cheezy pretzels. It’s not self-medicating if it works.
February 5th, 2008 at 1:22 pm
Trader Joe’s Faux Cheetos. For real. With Trader Joe’s Limeade or Trader Joe’s Apple Cider (um, the alcoholic kind) to wash them down. This combination has never failed me. In fact, it might be all I serve at the next Ladies Night.
February 5th, 2008 at 1:45 pm
I find that alcohol works. 10am sobriety is so overrated.
February 5th, 2008 at 3:36 pm
Jemima: I do so love the cooking. And it gives me such smashing burns to display. But that Tartine cake idea – I’m saving that for next time.
Denise: I SENSE SMUGNESS IN YOUR TONE.
Angella: Thanks! Tater tots make everything better. And the cheesy pretzels aren’t quite as good as the honey mustard onion ones, but they’ll do.
Julie: You’re so right. I’ve given myself a pass on the non-essential to-dos for the last few days and DAMN does it help. So does crawling into bed with a book.
Peter: That reminds me of an episode of Scrubs. “I know you took a cab here, but I can’t give you Vicodin because your teeth are itchy.”
Pamsterish: I’m living in my sweatpants these days. And inspecting my unfortunately shaded incisors. (Also, those chips. On my two front teeth. WHERE THE HELL DID THOSE COME FROM?)
All Adither: Yeah, I caught on to that just a little too late. Actually, I thought the Super Bowl started earlier. Because that’s how into hockey I am. (Ba dum bum. Sorry.)
Sunny: I’m SO glad you know whereof I speak. That’s the whole reason I read blogs. So I can mutter “thank god I’m not the only one” at my computer screen.
NBB: Alcoholic apple cider and faux Cheetos? SIGN ME UP. Also: Why didn’t I think of that while I was AT Trader Joe’s. Damn.
C&C: I think I need a hip flask. Especially in those 10 a.m. meetings.
February 5th, 2008 at 7:04 pm
I second Holly’s recommendation for Trader Joe’s Faux Cheetos. I love them. And their “basically nothing in it, but it’s delicious” popcorn. I really don’t know the name of it, but that’s what it SHOULD be called. It’s in a green and white bag with a corn husk on the side, I think.
February 5th, 2008 at 9:55 pm
This post made me hungry. Can we have tater tots and cheesy pretzels when I come to visit?
February 6th, 2008 at 9:29 am
Those are the days (yes, I have them) when I cling to a good Merlot and my Taylor acoustic. Some of the best songs I’ve written have been in the midst of completely undefinable panic and mood swings.
I am definitely going to try the tater tot thing, though. Do they go good with Merlot? LOL
February 6th, 2008 at 4:42 pm
Yes, days just like this occur over at Madmarriage but, more importantly, entire nights eek by with raging anxiety of the hormonal variety. Insomnia, menstruation and feelings of inadequacy all in tandem, every single month. You’re in good company.
February 22nd, 2008 at 1:19 pm
Just wondering – you didn’t happen to be drinking the night before, did you? I noticed that for myself, the constant state of panic/anxiety was related to drinking. It bummed me out, because I liked drinking very much (not the alcoholic way, but I’m a huge Hefeweizen and Malbec fan – not at one time of course) but basically I quite drinking because that feeling was just totally not worth it. What do you think?