war·y adjective feeling or showing caution about possible dangers or problems.

Last week I got a new tattoo, just the word wary. And the story that lead up to me getting it is a little bit funny but very telling how deceptive anxiety came be. I have a friend who told me the word wary really resonates with them and I really couldn’t relate to it for me or that person.  Rewind like a year ago, I was submitting my insurance reimbursement forms and I saw that my diagnosis is PTSD, anxiety and OCD. To be honest,  I was shocked so at my next therapy I asked her if I had anxiety and OCD, of course she responded with a yes. I was floored. I don’t have rituals and I have normal worries being a mom and a woman.  After my appointment I wondered if anyone else knew this about me. I asked the people close to me if they thought I had anxiety. And yes, they all said without a doubt that yes I had anxiety. And were not surprised about my OCD diagnosis as well. My therapist apologized for not telling me sooner, saying “I assumed someone had told you in your other therapies.” Nope. No one, every therapist told me I was “normal and well adjusted.”  I spent the next few months thinking about this. Thinking about what an anxious OCD person does. And one day, I realized I am wary, I am anxious, I am OCD. And that I was so deep in my anxious obsessive thoughts for so long that I didn’t know there was any different way. 

When I pack for trips, I pack all the things, because, what if I am cold or hot or what if that sweatshirt I packed gets dirty and it's the only one I feel comfy in. What if I get bloated and my cute jeans don't fit right so I pack all the leggings. What if I feel ugly or fat in my go to outfits. What if it rains. What if the Heating/AC breaks. What if we stay longer. What if we are going to be outside more that I thought. What if we go somewhere fancy. What if something rips. I also pack so many pairs of shoes, comfy, flip flops, sneakers, slippers, boots and a dressy pair, A weekend trip unusally involves all the things, it looks like I have packed for a month, or I coud move in somewhere. Because I am afraid of forgetting something and just not having it.

I don't know if there has been a day since I was I got my peroid that I have been without some kind of pad or tampon. I carry them in my purse, my gym bag, my glove box and my trunk. I am so worried I am going to get my period when I am not supposed to, or be completely unprepared for a heavy flow.

I do laundry 1-2 times a day because I am worried that I won't have the option for a piece of clothing and will be stuck being itchy and uncomfy.

I don't like my sink to be full of dishes. I love the dishwasher and don't really like hand washing because I know the water is hot enough to kill bateria. Same with the washer. Everything is scorching hot. I love paper towels, because I know that they aren't carrying bacteria like the dish towels.

Every day I fight the urge to be okay with disorder and chaos. I also notice now that when I am having a bad day, I turn to baking and cleaning, something that I can follow instructions and finish, that's beautiful and complete. 

Every morning I think about the possible tragedies, how to prepare for them, how to prevent them. I like to see doors and exit signs, I like knowing my safety roots. I am always checking my safety.

I love making my bed because it feels so methodical and perfect when I am finished, it brings me much comfort and satisfaction. And when I go to bed at night, it's like I am opeing a gift just for me.

Except at night is when my anxity takes over. It's where my brain reminds me of all the uncertainies of the world, it reminds me of all the things I don't have control over and won't have control over. To the point of feeling doom. My heart starts to pound and there is a warming from my center out but as it's happening my limbs feel cool, almost cold. It's an overwhelming feeling that feels almost impossible to shake. It's paralyzing. It makes me feel out of control. I don't know how to control these thoughts. I don't know how to stop my brain from telling me to control what I can't control (the usual death, pain, suffering). My brain is like a drill sergeant, asking me to fix things, to answer questions that can't be answered, done over night or on my own, but it demands it anyways. It demands that I fix it or it won't let me sleep. I worry about not getting enough sleep to deal with the next day and I remember to do some deep breathing, sometimes a walk around the bedroom or some writing and then I can get back to sleep after a few hours.

I don't know how I didn't know I didn't have anxiety and OCD. Because now, it's all I see. I see it in every decision I have made for as long as I can remember. It ran the Kristy show for so long. It was so deep that I didn't know any other way. 

So, Wary, is me. Perhaps I am the most wary-est person on the planet. This tattoo is a reminder to me of that moment when I realized how it ran my life and that it still has a place in my life but it no longer runs the show. 
 

"The only time we suffer is when we believe a thought that argues with what is. When the mind is perfectly clear, what is is what we want." -Byron Katie

"Don't believe everything you think." -unknown

“Always trust your gut, it knows what your head hasn’t figured out yet.” Anonymous