"Where's the pill? Where's the pill?" I repeated, tossing bottles of medication haphazardly around in the drawer.
I abruptly came to the realization that I was dreaming again. I leaned back against my pillow and took a deep breath. There is no pill. This is a dream. There is no pill. Calm down. Go back to sleep.
I've been plagued by the "Where's the pill?" night terror for about 7 years now.
It began when I was diagnosed with Osteochondritis dissecans in my knees and was undergoing surgeries every few months. You know that moment when you are just about to fall asleep? In that moment many people experience the sensation of falling and then awaken with a start. Well I wake up with a start but also with an irrational fear that I've forgotten to take a very important pill. The sudden thought causes me to panic - my heart races out of my chest and I gasp for air as I search through drawers and pill packs. There was a pill. I forgot to take it. That's why I am not getting better. I forgot to take the pill.
I worked through my irrational night terror with my Pain Psychologist when I was in the thick of learning about my new disease. I had a lot of built-up anxiety about my diagnosis and it was manifesting itself every evening. Just as my body allowed itself to relax and drift off, my mind would scream"Not so fast!" forcing me to wake up and address the anxious thoughts in my head - in the form of non-existent pill searching.
I spent a lot of time working through my anxiety, incorporating strategies into my day to gain more control over my thinking, and address the worries that were consuming me. I worked through it and low and behold, the "Where's the pill" night terror disappeared from my nightly routine.
Or so I had thought.
Now wouldn't you know - guess what I have been busy doing around 10pm every night? That's right...searching drawers for the damn non-existent pill again!
I had thought that I wasn't really experiencing anxiety over this whole Covid-19 thing. I mean...it's unsettling. It's a very strange time. But I don't feel particularly scared or anxious about it all. My days are pretty structured with work, exercise, dog walking, and TV watching. I'm not balled up on the couch crying my eyes out or anything like that. I'm taking good care of my body and thought that I was doing just fine. My brain, on the other hand, is telling me that I am, in fact, experiencing some anxiety by springing the whole "Where's the pill" night terror back into my life.
OK. I HEAR YOU. GOT IT. TIME TO CALM THE F DOWN.
So although I don't necessarily have Covid-specific anxiety, I think that the worries I am experiencing are amplified given the situation. Here's what's causing me concern this week:
1) Dundee has a degenerative valve disease in his heart. His heart function is deteriorating and it's been difficult to find the right combination and dosage of medications to maintain it. I spend many hours plotting Dundee's respiratory rate on the dog breathing app, and I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be quite so obsessive about it if I could actually leave my damn house. I am super thankful that we have a Vet Extraordinaire who is available at all hours on Whatsapp. He has definitely helped to ease my anxiety.
2) I'm coming to terms with the fact that our annual summer trip back to Canada may not happen this year. It doesn't look like Cayman has any intention of re-opening our airport as long as the virus is alive and spreading anywhere near our border. The thought of not seeing my family and friends - especially my Grandma and my Baba makes me feel so incredibly sad. But...we shall see I guess.
3) Remember my super cool wakesurfing injury where I hurt my hand? Ya, well....after months of Physio, a splint for 6 weeks, and a quick trip to Philadelphia (pre-covid) to see the hand surgeon, it would appear as though I require tendon reconstruction surgery. But I mean, that's a future Kirstie problem, and as we all know, I'm pretty good at surgery. 😉
But it's OK. I have a plan. In addition to regular exercise (riding my bike and begging Candace Cameron Bure to acknowledge me on her live Insta workouts) and daily meditation (chanting "you've got to be f'n kidding me!" every time my Loom video drops me), I have decided to increase my Reality TV consumption!
Yes, I love reality TV. Yes, I am an intelligent, educated, and moderately successful woman. No, I am not ashamed. Shame me! Just try it. I don't give a care.
So many of my very intelligent, educated, and wildly successful female friends watch reality TV and feel shame. Don't feel shame, ladies! Reality television is actually very healthy. Here's why:
A recent study published in NeuroImage indicates that watching reality TV can trigger something called "vicarious embarrassment" in our brains. When we watch someone being humiliated, areas of the brain responsible for compassion, empathy, and the suppression of self-interest were activated because we can relate to those feelings of embarrassment. Therefore, watching Reality TV actually makes us more empathetic and less self-absorbed.
Ahhh - this is why I so enjoy watching Darcy from 90 Day Fiance ugly cry with each and every rejection she faces. It all makes sense now.
Case closed. I am a better person for watching Reality Tv - and so are you, my smart successful friends!
Also, let's be honest - the people, situations, and experiences on these TV shows are basically the exact opposite of the mundane life that I am currently living. It's a great escape. I don't know about you, but I'm guessing we all need a good escape from our strange reality right now.
Cheers to Real Housewivin' Below Deckin' Vanderpumpin' Rulin' Bachelorin' and 90 Day fiance-ing all weekend long!
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| Darcy crying: Good RealityTV |
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| Kirstie tearing a tendon - Bad Reality TV |
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