36 Hours (Part 2)

My 36 hour trip to Atlanta was like a series of vignettes.  I probably could’ve written 36 of them, but I settled on three…

“Side Effect”

In“36 Hours,” I wrote about how much anxiety I had about my anxiety.  I thought for sure after I had survived the flights to Atlanta and back, read a book, spent time with friends and had some precious time away from my darling children, the butterflies (to put it mildly) would disappear.  I was wrong.  I woke up on Monday morning to the same panic attack I’ve been waking up to for almost two weeks.   If the anxiety was about whether to buy a free-range or kosher turkey for Thanksgiving or whether to serve chicken nuggets or macaroni & cheese at Dylan’s birthday party, I was in serious trouble.  I decided to call my doctor to see if, perhaps, I should be committed.

At my annual check-up a few weeks ago, my doctor gave me medication to help with my anxiety and insomnia.  As it turns out, one of the less common side effects of the medication is intensification of anxiety.  This was frustrating to find out, but I wasn’t so annoyed that I couldn’t appreciate the irony that my anxiety meds were giving me panic attacks.  At least it wasn’t the turkey that was making me nuts.

“Girls Gone Wild”

I’ve known the two friends I saw in Atlanta since college, which, amazingly, was 18 years ago.  Back then we were kinda wild.  Now our lives just feel wild.  We spent all of Saturday afternoon catching up and talking about marriage and divorce, husbands and ex-husbands, kids and career, disease, death, and anxiety (that one was all mine).

We consumed a decent amount of leftover Halloween candy and a lot of wine in the process, and we end up eating a late dinner of drinks and random appetizers, including roasted beets and goat cheese, crab dip and bread, mussels, and the saltiest, parmesan-cheesiest, yummiest french fries I’ve ever had.   I fell asleep in the car on the way home and woke up the next morning with a headache and an upset stomach.  It was a great night, but eighteen years after college, wild takes on a whole new meaning.

 “36 Hour Friends”

In talking about her divorce support group, one of my friends said, “If you put everyone’s problems in that room on a table, I’d still choose mine.”  These are very wise words from a very Smart Mama.  I hope I can remember them the next time I feel overwhelmed.

I wish I lived closer to these life-long friends.  I wish we talked more often.  I wish we saw each other more often.  I wish our kids could play together.  I wish we weren’t getting older.  I wish we were still engrossed with our futures rather than fixated on the decisions we’ve already made.   I wish we could behappier, healthier and more in love with ourselves.  I wish beets were easier to digest.  I wish my anxiety medication weren’t making me crazy.  I wish we could’ve spent more than 36 hours together, but I wouldn’t choose anything else on the table because I have the best 36 hour friends on the planet.