Welcome to January 287th. If this month is a precursor to the rest of the year I’m enthusiastically waving my white flag. I swear this month has been as long as all of 2017. We should have known when the month started on a Monday, it wasn’t going to be pretty. It’s cold, and not the fun cold where you get to wear winter clothes and play in the snow. It’s just the bitter cold with the wind slapping you in the face and everything is dead and ugly.
I’ve spent the majority of this month unsure of whether I was dying or anxious. By majority I mean since the 4th. I’ve had anxiety all my life, and it comes and goes with severity. I’m just a worrier by nature, about everything. And why do the symptoms of anxiety have to mimic a heart attack? I mean we’re already freaking out, let’s not add the possibility of death to the chaos. Thankfully, I found out yesterday after spending probably a paycheck on doctors between this and pneumonia, that I am in fact not dying, just crazy. Only anxiety can make you excited for a crazy diagnosis.
My mother told me she went through anxiety similar to this when she was my age, and the doctor called it “anticipation” and to just stop thinking negative thoughts. He was a sadist. Thank you to whoever said nope, I can make a pill for that.
Tomorrow, the longest worst month ever has also decided to go out with a super blue blood moon. I feel like it’s just giving us the finger with that. Anyone who works in healthcare knows full moons equal complete and utter chaos, January said hold my beer.
So tomorrow we bid farewell to my new least favorite month. I wish it would go eat a tide pod. May the odds be ever in your favor.