I Have to Be Able to Get Out of My Pants Quickly

And Other Things Fellow Anxiety-acks Might Feel

Okay, so I’m in a major discount clothing store the other day with my daughter. We giggle as we share our observations of the clothing we are trying on in our side-by-side dressing rooms.

I am super excited to have found a number of pairs of jeans, and I am so thrilled to try on. They are not labeled “Mom Jeans,” which I think is really code for “Dumpy.” I do not nor have I ever wished to enter that clothing category. Back to my jeans.

      Oh, this pair is going to be perfect I say to myself. Wrong. As soon as I reached my heels, I was struggling to get them up and over. I could feel the sweat begin to bead up on my forehead. Must exit jean immediately! I say aloud, “Oh my god! I have to be able to get out of my pants quickly!”

      My daughter, begins laughing hysterically, having no context for my comment. I explain as we meet back at our cart that I must have pants that come off easily. I have to know I can escape them. She looks at me with a mixture of bizarre wonder and concern. I explain, “Look, I cannot be encased in clothing that resists me. I must be able to get away.”

      “OHHHH,” she says with knowing nod. It’s an anxiety thing. I get it. It’s weird, but I get it.”

      Yep, that’s right, stuff that only severe anxiety sufferers understand. You can’t talk me out of it, reason with me out of it, cognitive behavioral therapy me out it, because that is not the way pervasive anxiety works. Oh, you have a Master’s degree or Ph.D. or MD in Psychology you say? Unless you have this type of anxiety or have spent a life time truly studying anxiety, you don’t know Jack $#!%. That’s okay.

     I saw “Jaws” the summer of ’75. I have not been in open water past my ankles since then. Yep, that includes lakes and rivers. Rational fear? Who the hell cares? It’s my fear.

     I encountered a face to face with a 6’ thick black snake when I was seven. Am I still deathly afraid of snakes? Hell, yeah! Rational as most are nonvenomous? No, but we’re not talking about rational here. We’re talking about Anxiety. Don’t, just don’t post about “The benefits of gradual exposure therapy to extinguish anxiety.” Hey, I let my daughter have two snakes as pets, determined not to pass on my anxiety about snakes to her. She loves snakes. I would never hurt a snake, as they are part of nature. I just have an absolute avoidance of them. Oh, I am a heavy- duty gardener. Funny, yes? I just stomp really loudly around my gardens to warn snakes I am coming. I talk aloud to them, “Hey, snakes, I’m going to garden now. No offense, but clear out, or better yet, slink off and don’t let me see you.” It works.

     I have a deep, deep fear of getting a stomach bug. (re-vomit and diarrhea). I wash my hands and then hand sanitize many times throughout my day. A little stomach discomfort sends me into the clutches of a mental spiral of “What Ifs?” Good times.

     Have you noticed that I utilize self-deprecating humor? On one level, it is funny to me-oh, not when I’m going through it, but after as a retrospective observer of myself. I do love that about me. But don’t you do it to me. Do not make fun of my fears. Isn’t that complicated? I can do it, but you can’t. Hey, my life, my rules, my anxiety. I know what I can and I can’t take.

     Zippers on coats…I was 11 years old. We (my nuclear family) and I were out to eat at a relatively fancy restaurant in Winter, and my jacket would not unzip. We’re talking zipped up to the neck with no movement. I began to sweat profusely, almost fainted from fear and heat when a kind waiter came and cut off my coat. My dad’s response to me, “There was no need to call such attention to yourself and also have a perfectly good coat ruined.” I said nothing…because I was 11 and he was my dad. I felt so responsible and filled with shame. Sooooo, now, I cannot and do not zip my coat up to the neck, ever. I must have a way out. Whew, anxiety is exhausting.

     Oh, flashback to the other day. I didn’t buy the sausage encasing jeans. I did get a pair of “boyfriend jeans.” They are so cute and I have them on right now. I could get these things off in a heartbeat. Perfect.

     Whatever you do, if you comment (I do really love when people comment. It makes me feel so happy!) do NOT instruct me on how to get rid of my anxiety. I got this.

      Hey, if you want to, share your anxieties here. Oh, you don’t have any? Oh well. Thank you for reading. I do appreciate all my readers. We each have stories to tell.