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I still tear up way more than I ever have, and am learning to accept that as a part of me. I’m trying to embrace tears as a visceral human reaction to life, not as a sign of weakness or cause for embarrassment.
All I could think of is the millions of couples who have committed decades to each other, going through life’s ups and downs as a team only to be told by society, by laws, by our leaders that “You may feel married, but you aren’t.”
We just blew $1500 on a car … we have to make a car payment soon … This will be at least $500 … That was all I could make sense of. I couldn’t grasp that my child could have died and I missed it.
A few days later, I began having heart palpitations and cold sweats. Mentally, I felt fine, but physically, I was kind of a wreck. But both worlds collided one day while I was working at my then-job at Estee Lauder. I remember it so well…
While on medication, I was able to fight these storms as a whole person, not a wounded and vulnerable creature.
I can trace my anxiety back to kindergarten. As a child, I spent an inordinate amount of time puking. I wasn’t sickly or malnourished. I just puked on the regular.
So if Zoloft works so well and I have been living with anxiety my whole life, why stop? Pretty simple. Sex. Or actually, lack of sex. Well, to be REALLY technical, lack of sex DRIVE.
