Did you think adulting would give you answers?

An “off-the-cuff” entry. It’s been a while. [i]

I started today with a near-panic attack which sounds like a good thing to everyone who doesn’t suffer from panic attacks. “Near” is still gross.

I couldn’t find my purse this morning. I wanted yesterday’s receipts to record in my ledger. [ii]

This is the problem when you are “organized” like me. If something isn’t in its place, I end up screwed and a little freaked out. The purse is hanging on the back of my bedroom door or sitting in my desk chair waiting to disgorge receipts.

There was not a hair of purse to be found.

I had a thought that I might have left it in the car and cursed myself for my irresponsible nature.

It wasn’t there. This is when the anxiety attack starts to threaten. This is when the thoughts start to spiral.

This is where I wish I had ten million followers on Twitter. There’s no reason I can’t. All social media platforms could welcome you with a cool million friends. The desperate need to be liked is part of the operating system.

But I digress. Part of my operating system.

If I had ten million followers, I would ask them if this was a normal thing that happened to everyone the instant something is misplaced? I would ask how many held organization and system perfection up as demi-gods? That’s one of the harder things about mental illness. The sense of differentness, the sense of being “other.”

Part of the problem is I’m just a little bit lit all the time. My hippocampus is firing. I meditate and it settles me for a bit. The problem is that the problems remain. There is no escape.

My mother has stage four lung cancer.

My father is in congestive heart failure.

I struggle to deal with daily pain that occasionally even eclipses the emotional stuff. Plus, there’s the “I’m prone to depression,” basket full of mental illnesses thing. The world doesn’t stop for mental illness, however. It doesn’t even stop for the neurotypical.

We all looked forward to adulthood as children. It was freedom. It was knowledge. We would know the answers. For me, that meant I would magically feel better inside. The broken bits that rubbed raw would be healed by the magic of nineteen.

Perhaps it’s twenty-one?

I don’t remember how old I was when I realized that although I would get wrinkles, my brain was going to remain as it was. I get new skill sets and new bits of knowledge: changing the “me” underneath the adulthood suit we wear is exponentially more difficult.

It was a frustration: I was counting on that system upgrade. But the panic of yesterday over a misplaced purse was no different than the panic of decades past when a book from my library went missing. But now I know to slow my breathing and ground.

Progress.

Skill sets.

Answers. Just not the ones I want.


[i] I mostly write posts over the course of a few days. Then I edit them because mistakes are bad for reasons I can’t remember. Off-the-cuff posts are quick and day-of. I’m less able to blame Grammarly.

[ii] I have a ledger. I keep track of all my accounts and all my debts and payments that way. Partly because I’m compulsive and partly because when one lives tight, money is important to keep track of.

8 thoughts on “Did you think adulting would give you answers?

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  1. So what happened with the purse? Did you find it? Where was it?
    Yes, I still panic a bit when something is not where it should be. However, I am able to make that conscious pause as an adult and think about where it could be and why. I keep calm until I exhaust ALL ideas. THEN, I freak out. Thankfully, that does not happen that often.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. What a cliffhanger 😁
      Yes, I found it. It was in the closet on a pile of jeans. I gave it a stern talking to.

      See, this is how your brain is different than mine and these are the things I love to know. I get locked into a loop. My brain tells me I have two options and then freaks out. Sometimes there are comments about being a failure. I’m able to pull myself out now, but it’s not innate for me.
      Perhaps I’m still adult-pending?

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I’m glad you showed it who’s boss.

        ‘Freaking out’ has never helped me other than checking off some weird, psychotic box, so I approach it rationally as much as I can. As a kid, my father would stop everything until whatever was lost was found. I wasn’t able to have any sort of fun until I found it. Even if it took weeks. It definitely left some sort of trauma, but maybe that is why I am just so determined in my search and know that anything else will not get me out of the situation.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I didn’t start feeling like an adult until I started having opinions about “kids these days”.

    I keep having to create more redundancies in my organization system to compensate for the fact that I forget to follow it. My hippocampus is not a happy camper.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. LOL. Uphill both ways in the snow, hmm.

      It’s annoying that something so small has such an outside influence. I have half a mind to complain to management.

      Liked by 1 person

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