Ever Have A Panic Attack?!

post panic re-enactment My son was 10 minutes late to the car today after school. And the level of panic I felt was, well, definitely excessive and probably not normal.
But I am sure so many of you have it too..right?!
Please say yes! 

When I have an actual panic attack- which thankfully isn’t THAT often, It’s like a wave of dread mixed with more dread.  It feels like dying and unbearable living all at once. The hopeless thoughts of imminent bad something are so very real that the crash from this not even kinda good feeling high can render me drained, depleted and with limited function.
My mouth gets so dry- forget about my ability to swallow.
Most days thankfully the anxiety just lives in me- stalking me from inside my belly- Yes, it is always ready to jump out of me, but by the grace of gd typically I can contain it.
When it does make its way to the surface, usually my anxiety manifests as uncontrollable ugly cry tears,  which is super convenient right before a meeting, a tv hit, a radio interview, family dinner or party.
My anxiety peaks when I worry about the well being of people I love.
It also peaks when I don’t hear back from someone I’ve emailed about a job.
Or it peaks when I have put myself in some sort of vulnerable situation (daily?!) and I feel over looked, undervalued, not good enough, like a loser.
I go right to that everything is going to crumble place. FAST.
Confrontation also gets me. I am a terrible fighter.
When I am PMS it gets even worse.
Any moment of any day that I assess/realize/grasp/recognize/come to terms with the fact that I am in control of so little, the anxiety flares so big.
I could be getting ready to go to work and something or someone (could be me!) makes me leave later than planned (I like to leave at least 90 minutes before I have to be in NYC) I start to worry that I won’t have enough time to be ready for my show-
I worry that I will inconvenience the lovely hair and makeup people at work because I  texted someone I’d be there at 6 and now I won’t arrive until 7. So I text again. And then if I make up for lost time on the roads, well, I’ll pull over and text that I may be early now which is actually the time I said I’d arrive originally.
I’m such a freak.
When I start to look ahead at the future: my kids, my husband, me…
Sometimes I can hardly breathe.
I am worried about where my kids will go to college- several years from now-  And who they’ll marry, will they marry, will they be happy. I just want them happy.Ok really I just want them breathing way longer than I am.
I am turning 44 tomorrow.
This year somehow feels worse than the others.
The aging process is really awful.
The aging process while climbing the “being successful on tv where your face really matters” ladder – EVEN WORSE.
Yes, I am grateful. I am grateful to the point that I want to throw up because my heart gets so full of all the love I have for too many. And the fear that someone will die, leave, disappear, forget me…
Clearly, I don’t take anti anxiety medication- too anxious I’ll become addicted. That’s why I just CARRY the xanax in my bag. I have it if I REALLY need it.
I’ve taken xanax maybe 20 times total in the course of 5.5 years.
How do you manage your anxiety?

 

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REPOST about my late (as in dead) mother. It is her birthday…

I just don’t have the strength to write about her today. I’m sad. Yup. Sad.
I miss her. A lot. The older I get, in some ways, the greater the longing becomes.
Maybe because I am increasingly like her?!
I think I have to get that darn tattoo of her initial “B” (for Bunny) soon.
here’s the link to the  last thing I wrote about my mom .
Gotta honor her today…somehow.

Now, Go call your mother! Even if she’s annoying.

xo
Jenny

 

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FAT!

mexicofoodblog
I hate myself today.

HATE.
The number on the scale in mexico is HIGH.
My diet will begin tomorrow in Miami- we leave for there today.
I’ve been away for a week. Ive been fat for the past three days of this week.
I am mid month in my menstrual cycle – always a higher weight!
Why can’t I be a super perfect dieting wonder?
Why can’t I eat healthfully while on vacation?
Why do I eat french fries
and guacamole
and tortillas
and seven grain bread
and chocolate?!
I have problems. With food.
Food is my problem.
Food is the enemy.
My love of (or is it my compulsion over) food is the enemy.
I am the enemy.UGH. When it comes to my mind, my body, food and how they intersect, I am a convoluted mess.

I have worn the same normal size person jeans for over three years.
This is a huge accomplishment for me. HUGE.
Year to year before, I used to guess each season what would (or would not!) fit.
Still feels like a miracle that I can pull something from my closet, step into it and it buttons.
Sure, some days the button feels easier to close than others, but my jeans always fit.
And yet the fear that I will spiral out of control and gain sixty lbs in the blink of an eye is ever present.

I won’t tell you what I weigh.
Nope. Not. Gonna. Happen.
But here’s some background information.

1970: I was born. 6lbs 8oz.

1979: I was about 80 lbs and short.

1984:  The numbers get higher. but arguably not that high. I was still short.
and actually I was around the same weight I am today. But maybe a touch shorter.

1986: At my sweet sixteen I was 16lbs less than I am today and had a severe case of mono.

1988: I was 10lbs less than I am today at my highschool prom.

1992: At my college graduation I was 23lbs heavier than I am now.

1992: Start of law school I was 6 lbs less than I am now.

1995: I met my husband. I was 32lbs more than I am now.

1998: First baby born. 90lbs heavier than I am now.

2000: Second baby born. 80lbs heavier than I am now.

2003: Weight gain due to emotional stress. 90lbs heavier than I am now.

2005: Lost a bit of weight. 50lbs heavier than I am now.

2008: Death of my mom. 66-70lbs heavier than I am today. I didn’t get on the scale much then…

2009: Started dieting. In February. I was 39 years old.

2010: Hit my super low adult weight- which is 5lbs lower than I am today.
But really that super low weight is almost impossible for me to maintain. I can do so by eating just
one meal a day. essentially.

I am eating more than one meal a day.
I am eating three meals a day.

AND I HATE IT!

I felt so much better (mentally) just after my bacterial stomach infection two weeks ago that rendered me back to my “happy” weight. I had been really sick.  I couldn’t tolerate more than eight pretzel rods a day with a gatorade chaser but hey, that’s living.. no?

I kid. kinda. I did love the protruding bones I was starting to feel but being sick makes me fear death. I fear death when not sick so I dont need an extra reason to worry!
But the roar of my returning appetite is the devil in disguise.

Vacation for most means a time to relax.
I relax. I sleep some more. I exercise.

And my discipline in the face of the fattening disappears.
I lose my uptight inhibited self during meals. And end up consuming way more than I want to.

This is all embarrassing to even admit- especially as a former fat person.
I feel guilty, less than and frankly like a loser that I can’t keep my  f$&king mouth shut during vacation.

Theoretically I COULD just say “no thank you” to the bread, french fries and chocolate. But instead I find myself walking into the sundry shop and purchasing the chocolate.

Oh. My. Gd.
Vacation gives me too much time to think.
Solitude renders me vulnerable to an abundance of emotions.
I don’t want to have any more emotions.
Chocolate is yummy.

My brother  (@BrianKoppelman) tweeted yesterday “I might be the world’s worst dieter. That’s all. Carry on.”

No Brian, we all suck at dieting because dieting sucks. Especially when food has quietly been a coping mechanism for years.

I have to diet  because I can never be fat again.
My life depends on it.
But man, the bumps, struggles, cake and candy along the way are brutal.

And the necessity to get on the scale throughout my vacation definitely lessens my good time.

But what else can I do?

My diet starts tomorrow.
Yours?

xo,
Jenny

PS: Here is a collection of other posts I’ve written about weight.

 

 

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The Joke That Bombed

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I don’t know how you comics do it. Night after night you haul your bums up on random stages in even more random towns and make people laugh. Or at least try to make people laugh.
Often you succeed. Often you don’t.
Always you comics go back for more!

You have much stronger innards than I!

Last night, in a not so quaint restaurant in the bustling outskirts of Cancun (Mayan Riviera) I miscalculated the crowd.
Well actually I didn’t miscalculate the crowd. I miscalculated the people at the table next to us who had engaged us in some innocuous conversation. Or maybe we engaged them?!
It’s unclear.

But what I do know is I made a joke. And It fell flat.
The dad at THEIR table hates me.

My joke was actually more a sarcastic tongue in cheek comment- my delivery has always been my strength or my delivery HAD always been my strength… Ugh.

I’m very free with my issues- my weight, dead mother, kids, husband, wrinkles, sags, pms, aging.
‘m not super sensitive really about any of it.
And on the occasion that I am sensitive- usually I will cop to that- admit my insecure moment- and move on.
Clearly, my expectation that all are ok with THEIR stuff is wrong.

What Happened:
Them:
Are you from Long Island?!
Us: YES!
Them: Where?
US: North Shore
Them: Us too..
US: What year did you graduate high school?
HIM-the dad: ’77
ME: oh. You’re old! (Said with deadpan makes my radio fans laugh not really meaning he was old- he’s just 11 years older than me!)
HIM: ……..
He was silent. And angry. I hurt his feelings. I wasn’t funny.
Ouch. Ugh. Oops.

The conversation continued a little bit-
Until it ended. Somewhat abruptly.

We paid our check and as we were leaving I went over to the man and apologized.

ME: I’m sorry for upsetting you.
I was just kidding making as joke!
HIM: What was the joke?
ME: ….
I was flustered and couldn’t respond.

My joke made him feel bad.
What explanation would make it ok?

No explanation.

So now I’m combing the beach looking for this man- to say I’m sorry again-
I gotta get over it.
If my intent was to make all laugh and I failed- isn’t that punishment enough?

My sarcasm is going to be tabled for a while. At least for today. Or an hour.

What would you do?

Merry Everything Everyone!!!

XO!

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