Infant Insanity (or, "My Default Setting is 'Worry'...")

Content Warning/Trigger Warning:  Gonna touch on mental illness a bit and eating disorders.  As such, this is a little bit longer.

Chapter 8:  Children Learn What They Live (This was framed in a cross-stitch by our front door when I was a kid)

"Why the fuck do you want to have a kid?  What's wrong with you?"

Pretty harsh, huh?   Heyyyy! I liked the lists the last time and don't wanna waste your time...so here's a fun game called "Guess which of us has which issue?"

In our household we have:

-Depression
-ADHD
-Anxiety
-Body Dysmorphia
-History of eating disorders
-Panic attacks
-A dog with abandonment issues
-A cat with a tendency toward sociopathy*

I don't want to trivialize mental illness, and I'll stop you there and say that with the exception of the last two, it's pretty much all me.  (If you haven't figured as much, we're a family that's pretty honest and open and uses humor to soften the issues as much as, gasp, deflect/avoid)

Like talking openly miscarriage, de-stigmatizing mental illness is important to us for the simple reason of not wanting to mess up our kid should they develop in the world with some of their own chemistry slightly off.  Since both my wife and I have it, it's a safe bet she's going to have something come up during her development.  I'm sort of the last generation in a family that found dignity  and strength in suffering silently.

Which is hilarious because anyone reading this who knows me knows that I have the exact opposite problem- I am a LOUD open book that has a VERY permeable filter at best. I must have been a burden my folks.

For anyone who has or knows someone with mental illness , you already know there's still significant social stigma of having it perceived as a flaw or weakness.  (I remember a guy in college saying that ADD was just an excuse for people to be lazy and disordered.  I wanted to knock that motherfucker out on the spot.  Oh, hey!  Anger!  Good one, tough guy!).  On the flip side-  the same person who said the quote about "What's wrong with you" and was about as insensitive as they come, also admitted that they have to take General Anxiety Meds for their panic attacks.   We believe in our family that mental illness is very real, very individual, and complex thing that's still being studied and understood.

Never really having thought much about my ADHD my whole life (Mom used to say the doctors in the 70's used to think I was just a rotten hyperactive kid.  Truth.)  and not having my anxiety really manifest until my 40's meant I could shuffle most of my issues under the procrastination banner.  I never bothered to seek help because I never had to, and didn't really have the time. Literally, money was the *only* thing I would worry about regularly.

I figured this stuff would disappear as I got older or got married, but holy hanna...the body image issues are still there.  (How long have I been saying 30 lbs to go?  How many times do I work out?  How many times do I self-sabotage by eating until I'm stuffed and drinking more wine than is in a normal pour?  Or fucking hate pictures I'm in because I think I look like a moose?)   I've toned down a lot of the self-abusive language, but jeepers I still do a mental count of calories out of habit.  I still can drink a bottle of wine without a second thought, then make-believe a visit to the gym the next day is going to fix it.  Detox to Retox and all that.

It's cumulative.  I foolishly thought aging would magically help me get my shit together.  Except it doesn't.  Turns out, it's not about slowing down it's about trying to run headlong into something without realizing you're actually on a treadmill.  Somewhere along the line I met and worked with a therapist.  (Because my poor...poor wife.  One night we were talking out some shit and she said "Honey.  I think maybe you need to talk to someone.")

Which lasted appppppproximately 12 visits (and a lot of money later) until they went on maternity leave.  Speaking of wanting a magic pill, I was honestly hoping they'd say "Yup!  Let's get you trying different doses of things and see what works!"  Except that didn't happen.  And after our last meeting I just sort of gave up on it, even though it gave me some takeaways:

1) Helping me identify "blind spots".  They agreed, some of the shit I went through was egregious and awful, and in spite of bad things happening to everyone,  my shit is real and unique and mine and don't devalue it so that you can avoid/ignore it.
2) Asking for help is hard, but you probably aren't as much of a burden on people as you think.  If you are, they might tell you.
3) Since you experience fear of missing out, or that your friends don't like you/ignore you/think you're a piece of toxic shit to have around... or maybe you see other people having fun but not you, or just basically feel like you're some social pariah...have you ever thought that maybe *you* should try reaching out to them?  Or that maybe they have their own shit they're dealing with, and you could check in to see how they're doing?
4) Give yourself a break.  Stress is a killer, but if you're doing the right things like exercise- trying doing them without drinking.  (I admitted to them I stress eat and stress drink and doing so in the evening is just a recipe for shitty sleep and heartburn.  Also, if I'm drinking that much every night- it's never really out-out of my body.  So take the breaks from drinking or stop entirely if you *know* you sleep better and you know you feel better when you do.)
5) Try meditation to be present.  Worrying is anticipating a problem that doesn't exist, like wearing a snowmobile suit in July to be ready for Winter.

The last one he told me made me want to tell him to fuck right off.  (That, and not giving me drugs.  And to be honest, I was treating these sessions like stand up comedy, and I had him laughing so much he'd fall out of his chair.**)  And that was keep the door to forgiveness open to those who have tread against you.  

Nah, fam.  If acknowledgement or apologies are deserved, I'm not going to turn around and say everything is peachy.  Hence, that little insensitive sentence that friend uttered?  "Why the fuck do you want a baby?"

I don't spend time with that person any more.  And I'm fine with it.

As for our kid- both my wife and I said we don't want them to get our issues or even grow up thinking they are anything less than a loved, beautiful person.  So we decided to make sure if she's going through her own shit that we'd try and be sensitive enough to pick up on it and give her all the support she needs.

I'll say this, though-  The number of people telling us we'll be great parents or that I'm going to be a great dad is a lot of pressure, and I have no idea what they hell they see that makes them think that.  Someone actually said that to me on New Years Eve when I was already a sheet to the wind, trying to suck in my gut while simultaneously bursting the buttons off of my last suit that fits, while barbecue sauce dripped down my front from hovering over the buffet table. 

Yeah, pal.  Imma be a guh-reat parent.  Self-doubt and self-awareness/consciousness is nothing right now.  Wait'll there's a baby in the mix, and you can ratchet all that up to "Crippling" self-doubt.

*I read all of these to my wife for content and clarity and permission.  That last bullet made her laugh, and utter the line "I think that just makes him a cat".

** Yeah, I know.  You can shop around for a shrink you have rapport with to find one that works.  I was just...he was fine.  With the exception of those bullets I mentioned?  I just felt like I was spinning my wheels.  Also, I wanted drugs.