Relief

I finally talked to him. The long-distance boyfriend. I was having a really bad day. My anxiety levels were going through the roof, and no amount of logical thinking could bring me down. I tried to distract myself with TV shows, video games, and projects. I snuggled with my dog (I use the term "snuggle" loosely, as a dog with that much energy never slows down long enough to properly snuggle). I even treated myself to some Thai food delivery. None of it was working. I couldn't calm down. I couldn't make the tears stop.

Finally, I decided it was time to fall back on my old friend, self-medication. I considered having a few drinks. There was some delicious mulled wine in the fridge. But no, that wouldn't have been a good idea. K was out for the evening and drinking by myself has only led to more crying and even deeper feelings of despair in the past. I might feel a little better between drinks 2-3, but I rarely stopped there and by drink 4 or 5 I'd be a mess. And then I saw it, sitting on a shelf next to my bed: the caramel.

Marijuana has been the only consistent source of relief in my life for over a year. Sure, it makes me a little bit loopy and removes all hope of being productive, but it pushed away those feelings of hopelessness and dread. I guess you could say it took me out of one fog and put me into another, much less distressing one. With this goal in mind, I popped that medicated caramel into my mouth and settled on the couch with a bundle of munchies and a cozy blanket. It wasn't long before I felt that familiar, pleasant haze. After having spent the past 24 hours feeling like a balloon that had been filled up too much, threatening to burst at any moment, I finally began to feel a tremendous amount of relief. It was as if that little caramel had untied my balloon and was now gently allowing it to deflate back to its original size.

In the middle of my relaxing haze, I got a phone call. It was him! Finally! I let him know he'd caught me in the middle of a marijuana haze and that I may have a hard time focusing on our conversation, to which he responded with his familiar "your antics amuse me" chuckle.  I love that chuckle. I regretted that I was too stoned to carry on a meaningful conversation, but the talk of how much we missed each other and brief mention of figuring out when I'd be down to visit next worked wonders. I briefly mentioned that my meds had been giving me a little bit of increased anxiety, but I didn't reveal how bad it had gotten or that most of it revolved around him. I didn't need to. Without even realizing it, he removed all of the worry and doubt that had been building up in me over the past few days. After we hung up I held my phone to my chest and smiled.

Since that phone call, my anxiety levels have been perfectly manageable. I still have a little bit of nervous energy and I can tell that I'm grinding my teeth while I sleep, but there is no more worrying or fretting. I think everything's going to be okay, you guys. I really do.