Anxiety, First World Problems, Truths and Mourning....

A couple weeks ago I found myself sobbing (read: ugly crying) and hyperventilating in the shower. I  could hear my heart pounding in my ears, but ringing in my ears at the same-time. Every breath I took was not deep enough. And, the shower walls seemed to slowly cave in. Grounding was not working and I had to get out of there. Red-faced from crying, I wrapped my robe around my body, walked into my room and slid onto the floor. I immediately text my best friend asking her "Are you awake?" That was the second anxiety attack I'd had that week, that one was better than the first one I'd had. I'd say I have no clue what triggered the attacks, but in truth I do, and please.... don't tell me "Don't worry about it...." Like, my nervous system is already on overdrive.... I worry ALL.THE.TIME. And, I will say 90% of the time the grounding method works, but sometimes... I have to just ride that terrible wave until it passes. At the moment I'm still on a tiny, semi-awful wave which we'll talk about.


Last weekend I went to ACL for the first time, I know... I know... everyone I know has been to ACL or some kind of music festival. It was HOT AF. But, finding someone to go with me was like asking someone "Hey wanna go to the gynecologist for a free pelvic exam?" everyone had a reason to not go, some had solid legit reasons for not going. Those that had legit reasons, my feelings are not hurt and I totally get the whole having to adult thing. Those that gave me a reason that sounded like BS, yeah..... my feelings are hurt. But, despite the heat, the crowds and my screaming anxiety I had a blast. Truth be told the only reason I went was because A. The ticket was literally given to be for free and I am FOREVER grateful to said beautiful soul (otherwise I would have stayed home that weekend). and B. Billie Eilish was playing and I love her. She was amazing!

Also, I'm not going to name any names because that's not fair to you, but if you want to reach out to us and explain why you didn't tell the truth in the first place cool.... If you're going to lie.... Please keep your posts and pictures off social media and spare hurt feelings.


In December 2014, I lost my black lab mix very suddenly to a massive seizure and it devastated me. This June my black pit mix Gemma, started having Grand-Mal seizures and the rapid diagnosis was epilepsy. She was given Kepra and diazepam. Those medications helped.... until they didn't. She had 6 grand-mal seizures in one day.. Yes, you read that correctly... And the vet's office we took her to lost her (long story, I got her back by a miracle and a kind hearted soul). But, then we switched her medication to phenobarbital and her seizures subsided and she seemed to be kind of back to her happy, bobble-headed self. Until, she started having seizures again about 3 weeks ago, and those grand-mal seizures turned into daily sometimes 5 a day petite-mal seizures. And Gemma's light was gone.
On October 9, I made the decision to put her down. Which, is still something I struggle with. I know there other medications I could have tried in conjunction  with the phenobarbital, but I did not want to keep her on a trial and error cycle. Because, truth be told Gemma, MY Gemma.... the Gemma that leaned into me for attention, the Gemma that bowed to me, that would lay next to my legs on the floor for hours if I let her, the Gemma that got so excited her head would bobble from side to side, the Gemma with that trusting pit-bull smile and tail wag was gone. With a knowing nod from the vet, my mom left the room while I spent a few quiet moments with my girl.... my girl who I spent 3 days looking for. They took her. Was she gone 5 minutes? 5 hours? I don't remember. The vet and his tech brought her back in the room with an IV line in her arm and a soft blanket to lay her on when she ready. He said "We'll administer the medication when you're ready." I wrapped my arms around her and told her "You're a good girl. I love you. Be a good girl." I felt her relax slowly, her body get heavy, then heavier. She was gone. The vet put his hand on my back and told me "Take as much time as you need." As soon as the door closed behind him softly the quiet tears became sobs. I laid next to her, as she'd done so many times next to my legs in the past. I sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. You were such a good girl. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." Then a wave of instant regret hit me. Had I made the right decision? What if a combination of different medications could have helped? Then panic. Then more sobbing. How long had I been in the room with her? Was my mom still out there waiting for me? Was it still morning? How long before I stopped hurting? I rubbed her belly and pit one more time before kissing her on the head and covered her eyes. I walked out of the room slowly and another tech locked eyes with me and gave me a knowing nod. My mom was still in the waiting room. The door shut quickly behind me. I knew they were taking her. But where? I hope they were taking care of my girl. I wanted to go back in there with her, but my mom sat me down and told me not to look. I asked the kind woman at the front desk if I could change the spelling of her name for the certificate they were going to send me. Please aching in my chest go away. "So it's G-E-double "M" A, right mama?" her name was Tanya, asked. "Uh yes ma'am" The vet came out and hugged me, I don't know why, maybe to assure what I did was the right thing. Maybe he felt sorry for me. He didn't have to. I didn't want to go to work, so I didn't. I didn't want to be happy so I wasn't. I went home, took two Xanax and went to sleep. It still hurts, the wound is still slightly raw. My heart still aches a bit as I type this out. I'm still not O.K, but I'm not terrible. I'm getting there.

I love you. I'm really going to miss you. Be a good girl. I'll see you on the other side. Ok?