Tag: anxiety

Riding that Struggle bus

Last night I dreamed that Clark had to have a re-do craniosynostosis repair surgery.  I remember not being exactly sure why he had to have another surgery, just that it was going to be an open repair involving a craniotomy (removal of top portion of skull). Isn’t it strange how strongly you feel emotions while dreaming? I was terrified and angry. “Haven’t we been through enough? Haven’t I served my time with craniosynostosis, two times over?!”

I woke up with a start. Clark is not having another surgery. Today IS Clark’s cranioversary–the 2nd anniversary of his craniosynostosis surgery. Maybe that’s what brought on the dream/nightmare. But, maybe not. You see, our lives are finally “calmer.” Ben is no longer commuting to Thibodaux or New Orleans. He has a job in Baton Rouge with better hours, etc. Darcy and Clark are well and without major health struggles. I’m finished with school, and I’m picking up shifts while working PRN in the CICU while looking for a job as a nurse practitioner. And there it is. The source of most of my stress. Job. Hunting.

You see, despite the shittiest of circumstances, I did really well in grad school and ended up with a 3.85 GPA and honors. I passed boards within a month of graduation on the first try, and I even had an interview within that first month window. Then…nothing. I’ve lost count of job applications and reaching out to my “contacts” with no real result. It has 100% totally sucked, and this past Monday I had a real come apart over it. “What the hell, God? Why have you brought me this far for nothing?” I mean, my student loan payments will be knocking on the door soon, and I feel like I’ll still be working PRN on the unit instead of working as a nurse practitioner. It has been incredibly disappointing.

In the grand scheme of things, I realize that this is not a great tragedy. My children are healthy. My husband has a really great job. Hell, I still have a job. One where I make my own schedule, work with my favorite dysfunctional coworkers,  and earn decent money. But, it’s not enough is it? We always want more, feel entitled to more. I don’t know if any of you are similar, but I often find myself reaching for the future and gambling away my present which is a frustrating and self-destructive way to live. I know this, and yet I do it over and over again. And yes, I know that a job will “come along” as so many people are quick to tell me,  I just truly hope that it comes along sooner rather than later before I go completely crazy.

In the mean time, I am deep cleaning my house,trashing, I mean…organizing the kid’s toys (I’m looking at you, useless, plastic party favors), running/exercising, and cooking all the things to undo my exercising. All that nervous energy has to go somewhere, right? Clark is crawling everywhere, trying to pull up on everything, getting into everything, and throwing temper tantrums like a typical 2 year old. He has also become quite the biter when he’s pissed off or excited–two emotions he cycles between with great regularity. He looks so sweet and cuddly, but you are absolutely risking your shoulder flesh if you give yourself over to his snuggles. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Darcy is so…much. I mean, she’s a lot. A LOT. She is so precious, and so funny, and so sweet, and so argumentative, and so frustrating, and so challenging. It’s intense. In the cover photo of this blog post, you’ll see a barefoot Darcy. This was her class picture (a picture of a picture-hence the quality), and I am at least 75% certain that I sent her to school wearing shoes, but whenever I ask “Darcy, why aren’t you wearing shoes in this picture?” she says, ” I’m not.” So there you go šŸ¤·šŸ¼ā€ā™€ļø She is currently obsessed with rainbows and princesses, despises bugs,  and is a stereotypical little girl. She also says that she wants to marry Ben when she gets older and “live with mommy and daddy forever!” I know, it’s unbearably sweet. I’ll remind her of this when she turns sixteen and we become the biggest idiots she’s ever known.

In conclusion, I feel God telling me to be patient. He’s not in a hurry, I am. And I just need to slow down and enjoy the time I’ve been given because I’m not guaranteed anything more than the present. We should all remember that. So, I’m going to catch up on Netflix shows and try out fun recipes, and go to the lake with my family. I’m going to pray more and worry less. Also I’m going to order a king cake from Thee Heavenly Donut. No, I did not misspell that, so quit with your judging.

That’s all for now. Eat some king cake because Ash Wednesday is in one week and Ash Wednesday=No mo king cake šŸ˜¦  Love to all ā¤

 

 

Clark is one!

Happy birthday, my baby.

This time a year ago, my legs were itching. Unbearably itching. You see, I had shaved my legs prior to my scheduled C-section, and when I got to the hospital, I had to wipe my legs down with antiseptic wipes. This caused my legs to burn and itch like none other for the next 30 minutes or so. Isn’t it funny the things you remember?? If you haven’t already, you can read more about baby Clark’s birth and the immediate aftermathĀ hereĀ andĀ here.

Oh my baby Clark. Today is your first birthday!! You are so precious. You smile all the time, laugh this delicious belly laugh, and irritate your sister by grabbing her toys. You love books and bath time and your mama and daddy. You have red hair and crystal blue eyes framed by the longest eyelashes known to man. You are SO loud! You babble nonstop and happily screech all day long. You are truly all of God’s grace wrapped up in one tiny body!

It has been one of the hardest years of my life, hands down. In the beginning, you were evaluated by eight separate physicians. Only two were positive when discussing your “outcome.” Had you not been the absolute light that you are, I could have let negative thoughts steal every inch of my joy. To be honest, IĀ did allow them to steal more joy than I should have.Ā  But then again, those fears led me to my knees. All the nights I spent praying, all the tears I have shed–you, sweet boy, are worth them all. My God has healed you, sustained you, and has held us close during the dark valley of hard surgeries, “suspected” diagnoses, and just plain fear. When my anxiety, fear, and lack of faith have rendered me utterly useless to the kingdom of God, He has given me hope through your laugh and smile. Over the last year, I have discovered that when I spend time praying to my Jesus, and I focus on your (always) smiling face, I can experience both peace and joy. By meditating on the goodness of His promises, I can be thankful for the now instead of becoming sick with anxiety for the future. My faith may be small, little one, but God has allowed it to move mountains. I will move all the mountains for you, my baby. And if I can’t, I will climb them with you. I am so thankful that we’ll never have to go back to life before you ā¤Ā 

Pill-eating, picture forgetting, and lice hunting

This is my circus and those are my monkeys

Hello people! I have been absent in the blog world lately because of grad school. My life has not slowed down even a little bit and really nothing has changed. We are still a messy bunch of people struggling to not live in absolute filth while getting exercise occasionally. A few weeks ago, we were getting ready to go to Friday servicesĀ  while Ben was handling Clark, and I was on the phone with my mother-in-law. All of a sudden, Darcy bounces into the living room and says, “One more!” as she pops something into her mouth.

Ben: “Darcy! What is that? Spit it out! Oh God, Beka. I think it’s a pill.”

That’s when Darcy reveals the topless pill bottle clasped in her sticky little hand. I race over and fish the pill out of her mouth and look at the pill bottle. It’s my thyroid medication and the bottle is empty. I run back to my bedroom to see if she spilled the bottle and by chance did NOT eat the pills. They are nowhere to be found.

Me (quite calmly, actually): “Darcy. Did you eat all these pills?”

Darcy: “…”

Darcy finally slowly nods her head.

Me (losing all chill):”WE NEVER EAT PILLS, DARCY!!!”

We throw her and Clark in the car and start driving to the emergency room while I frantically call Poison Control. To their everlasting credit, they were SO nice and quick to alleviate my fears. I estimated she had eaten about 10 of my pills which was only about 500mcg of levothyroxine.They basically said she was going to be fine and the ER trip was unnecessary, but to “watch her for signs of hyperactivity.” I laughed because this kid lives hyper. So anyway, I am #momgoals for overdosing my child. And yes, they were sitting on my night stand, so it was my fault and I suck. I know, I know. Because I want all of you mamas to feel awesome I’ll tell you another story featuring my crappy mom brain.

So, mornings at our house are challenging, okay? Ben leaves for work at 6:45 and is largely unhelpful with the kids in the morning. It’s not his fault–he has a commute and has to leave, but that basically means I take morning shift by myself. In the mornings, I am running around getting them up, dressed, fed, and dropped off at daycare, so I can bust my tail to get to clinical on time. Halfway through this particularly busy clinic morning, I get a call from daycare. I groan internally because I know they’re calling to tell me that Clark is sick because he always is. I’m immediately stressed because I’ll have to miss clinical and go get him, and I really don’t need to miss any more clinical days.

Daycare: “Hey, Mrs. Rebekah. So, today was picture day…”

Y ‘all, I laughed so hard! Today was freaking picture day and in my haste to get the hell out of the house, I dressed my kids like homeless Bob who lives under the interstate bridge.

Me: “Omg, I dressed my kids like hobos, today.”

Daycare: “We figured you forgot, don’t worry, there’s a makeup day on Thursday…”

So we get the proofs yesterday and Darcy’s expression looks like someone put cow dung on a spoon and held it under her nose. I’d post it, but we only have the proofs, and I’m pretty sure the GIANT watermark means I shouldn’t post it.

What can I say? We are #familygoals. I can laugh at that stuff for the most part because it’s par for the course around here, and we are just not normal. I can admit that stuff was pretty funny, but the lice scare of this past week was NOT. If you’ve read my blog before, you know that I have anxiety. My anxiety is SO weird though. Like I can drive 6.8 miles to the gas station even though I only have 7 miles to empty and I feel no anxiety. Cool as a cucumber, yo. But I get a letter saying there’ve been cases of lice in my kid’s classroom, and my head immediately starts itching, I psycho-dial my mom, and I spend the next 2 hours examining my hairline with a flashlight yelling, “IS THAT A DANDRUFF OR A NIT????!!!!” over and over to myself. Clearly, I amĀ very stable and I’m #personalgoals.

But you know what? My people still love me so well. Just a couple of weeks ago, a sweet friend brought over the most delicious dinner. Ben had been working so late, and it was kind and helpful. Thank you, Ellen. That week was followed by one of the best weekends ever!Ā  One of my best friends married the love of her life, and I got to be there as a bridesmaid. Tyler and Matt made the perfect couple, and I had the best time catching up with all of my gloriously imperfect friends. We are an unusual blend of backgrounds, religions, political views, and even geographic locations–they live everywhere from small Mississippi towns to Houston, Washington D.C., Oahu, and Sydney.Ā  But they’re my people and we love each other so well.Ā The very next weekend my husband surprised me with a beach trip to my parents beach house in Fort Morgan, AL. When I got there, I was so thrilled to spend time with my parents. An hour later, I answered the door and my brother and his family were standing there. My heart could have just burst! They drove from St. Pete Beach, FL to be there, and we made the most of our short weekend.

You might be like me. You drip sauce on whatever shirt you’re wearing, accidentally overdose your kid, smack your kids head on the car door putting them into the car seat, or walk around with crap in your teeth all day.Ā  You might struggle everyday to keep your patience. Or hey, you might not. You might have it together on all the outside things which is also cool (I salute you, you unicorn). But I’m telling you now, if you don’t have a group of weirdos, both friend and family, you’re missing out. Because when all the bad happens and life is just hard, you need those people to fall back on. They’ll embrace you, faults and all. In that circle of love thing, I truly am #goals. Love to all ā¤

Thereā€™s a lot of ugly here

My most brutally honest post to date

I’m mad at God. I mean, I am really, really pissed off. Let me back up a minute and fill you in on past events. As usual, prepare yourself for my rambling overshare–

Ben graduated! Yes, he really did. He graduated with his bachelor’s degree in Engineering. He had multiple job offers and accepted an awesome job before he even graduated. I. Am. So. Proud! We left Ohio with big plans and it’s happening, y’all. Ben has changed careers and has started work as a structural engineer as of Monday. I’m winding down my school year and have been re-hired as a PRN nurse on my old unit for the summer. I finished my awful research class. Basically life is awesome, right?

Then life throws you that curve-ball. I hate, hate, HATE to be cryptic, but I don’t want to share exactly what’s going on quite yet. I need another few days before I can confirm everything and share it with whatever readers may exist. Believe me, I hold no illusions of having this huge platform of captive readers. I’m not that into myself, so I can’t see that I have more than a few close friends/family member that actually have an interest in the Rayners’ going-ons. Anyway, I have this need to word-vomit– to get my anxieties out onto these blank pages and overshare. So here goes.

I’m worried. Why? Because I’m waiting on results again. Once again, I’m waiting. And I’m damn tired of waiting. I mean it. I no longer feel like I can wait in any manner that is socially acceptable. I cannot sit back and say, “I’ll know in God’s perfect timing, and that’s alright with me.” Because it is not alright. It is SO not alright. It is effing torture, and I am filled with fear and anxiety. I am also SO angry. I am angry that–once again– when life seems to be coming together that there is an insidious, lurking threat ready to destroy us.

I can’t pray this away. I alternate between feeling good and peaceful to feeling like the whole sky is falling down. Isn’t it, though? I don’t know how to deal anymore. I used to hit the pavement, you know? Throw on my raggedy tennis shoes and run until it hurt. That way I could at least feel semi-accomplished. Yesterday, I didn’t do that.

I googled worst-case scenarios, formulated hypothetical plans, and cried to my mother. I went to the grocery store to delay picking up my children. I grabbed a 6-pack of petit fours to binge on because I eat my feelings. My coping skills are šŸ‘ŒšŸ». I then promptly dropped the box of petit fours onto the pavement while I was getting into my car, which should tell you exactly everything about how my life is going these days. I drove to daycare in defeat and then I carried my children out of said daycare, one in his heavy carrier, the other kicking and screaming because I wouldn’t allow her to continue playing in the water fountain longer than the 2 minutes she had already done so. This older woman (older than me by 20 years) was walking her children (grandchildren?) to the car. She stopped in her tracks, turned around and looked at me in disgust, and said, “Ugh. Y’all come on!” to her kids. Like I was an unfit parent for having a 2 year-old that was tantrum-ing. So, to you, 50ish, pudgy, short, dark-haired lady, “Screw you.” Seriously, though. Next time you look at me like that I will embarrass you soundly by saying, “Please offer me your *expert* advice since you are clearly not in favor of what I am currently doing. Please, do that. And in exchange I will share with you that the Carol Brady hairstyle went out of favor about 4 decades ago. See? We can help each other, you hag.”

Petty, I know. But I was not feeling like the bigger person yesterday. I wanted someone else to feel as bad as I do. I wanted someone else to worry and be anxious and understand the absolute hell I’ve been through the last year. I wanted to be understood. I wanted to enjoy the blessings in this life. I wanted to recognize all of the good, and I also wanted to be ignorant of the bad because I’m tired of knowing all the things and imagining worst case scenarios about the things, and honestly I just wanted to give up because I was so tired. The kind of tired that sleep can’t fix.

Truth be told, I have some ugly vices. I like to withdraw when I’m sad. I crave alcohol and isolation. And yet, because of Jesus and immense growth, I refuse to give into those temptations. Even though they’re there, they just aren’t that loud. I eat my feelings instead. Like yesterday, I ate 3 out of the six smushed-to-hell-petit fours instead. And have plans to eat the remaining ones today. I’m #healthy.

And, in the midst of my downward spiral–I’m reminded…that Jesus has not left me. That the moments of peace I have been blessed with are not of this world. The peace that passes understanding is a gift from my Jesus. My husband is a gift from Jesus, my children are a gift from Jesus. He loves my babies more than I ever could, and He has plans for GOOD. If I were the only human in creation, God would have still sent Jesus to die for my sins.Ā  I don’t need to understand His ways. I just need to trust that He loves me, He is good, and He is sovereign. And if I step back for a minute, that’s pretty easy. It’s literally saying, “You are the God of all the universe. You hereby get to deal with this crap problem because I am tiny and human, and I cannot even.” And yes, I actually pray like that. I also say, “These are some shit circumstances, God, and I am majorly pissed off at you. Fix it, Jesus.” My favorite song right now, is called “Sparrows,” by Jason Gray. It’s based on Matthew 6:25-34. The chorus lyrics are:

“If He can hold the world, He can hold this moment. Not a field nor flower escape His notice. Oh, even the sparrow knows, He holds tomorrow.”

So there you have it. I am a sinful mess with poor coping skills. But I am okay with that. I am me. I’m still here. And Jesus loves me, the foul-mouthed and imperfect woman that I am. I will update soon. Love to all ā¤ļø

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