Please Don’t Make Me Adult

adultI told my therapist recently that I don’t do “adult stuff” very well.  She proceeded to point out all of the ways that I do “adult stuff” pretty well.  Yeah, ok, maybe I do adult ok most of the time but there are times, many of them, when I still feel like an inexperienced teenager and I really wish I could ask my mom to help me out.  Preparing myself and my doctors for my upcoming surgery in a few weeks is triggering a lot of my insecurities around being an adult.  I don’t like dealing with medical stuff at all.  Even going to the dentist makes me wish my mom could go with me for reassurance.  For a person who doesn’t like to deal with this stuff I spend a lot of time dealing with it.  Between my stuff, my brother’s stuff and my partner’s stuff I probably am at a doctor’s appointment at least once a week.  Today I had to have a mammogram, which I don’t usually mind getting.  They’re over quick and are relatively painless.  I know what to expect with them.  But today I had to wait around longer than usual and I was sharing a waiting room with people in wheel chairs and people on oxygen and it got me thinking about how scary life really is.  Is it any wonder that I suffer from an anxiety disorder and still want my mommy at 53 years of age?  We go in for these diagnostic exams and sometimes they turn up problems we didn’t know we had and suddenly we’re the ones on oxygen or having emergency surgery or chemotherapy.

I’m not trying to bring anyone down here.  I completely understand how talking about this stuff is unpleasant.  I would really like to not ever have to think about it let alone see it but it’s a part of life.  Sometimes life gets really scary.  For me, that’s often because I’m a wuss.  I used to faint at the sight of blood.  I still turn my head when they draw blood but I’ve toughened up quite a bit over the years.  I remember seeing a kid in elementary school who was born with only two fingers on one of his hands and it made me nauseous and light-headed to look at his hands.  See?  I’ve come a long way since elementary school!

But still, being reminded of how rough life can get in a blink of an eye makes me feel queasy and unsteady.  Reading all of the possible side effects of drugs makes me miraculously start having those side effects.  I don’t read that stuff anymore.  Commercials asking me if I have shortness of breath almost certainly will spur a sudden attack of light-headed tight breathing while I check to make sure I’m ok.  I’m always checking in on myself this way.  I scare myself too sometimes with all of this obsessive checking in.  Did my heart just skip a beat?  What’s that sudden pain in my chest about?  Oh my God, why can’t I remember what day it is?

My upcoming surgery has me freaking out a bit too.  What if I die?  What if it doesn’t go well and I end up brain dead or she punctures my bladder?  The doctor had to go over all of the risks yesterday with me so now I’m thinking about all of that stuff.  No, I’m obsessing about it.  I catch myself asking if it’s worth all of this anxiety.

I sure wish some nice adult would come give me a reassuring hug and tell me it’ll all be ok.  I’d really like to take a break from this “adult” stuff once in a while and let someone else do the worrying.


9 thoughts on “Please Don’t Make Me Adult

  1. Sending a hug from NYC where there is still snow on the ground…I assure you based on my hysto, and everyone else I know who has gotten one, that everything will go wonderfully, and you will make a full recovery be able to wear that bikini by the summer.

    The recovery from a hysto can take a while and it is very uncomfortable to get up from a seated position the first two weeks after surgery. You will curse all the days you worked out but didn’t do crunches or squats. You will be amazed at how many times a day you used to get up without thinking about it (desk, bathroom, eating, boredom….).

    I spent today going through a huge pile-up of mail in the hopes that I would find all the W2s, 1099s, and other forms for my taxes. I let it get out of hand between my top surgery and Donna’s valve surgery, and I don’t feel very adult about it either. I just got way behind in everything except paying bills (and I would have blown that off if it wasn’t for on-line banking and automatic payments).

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks for the hug and it’s good to know at least one responsible adult is out there. I am so thankful to hear that I’ll be able to wear a bikini this summer! Good luck with your taxes and if it makes you feel any better we still have some snow left too down south.


  2. “Mama said there’ll be days like this,
    There’ll be days like this Mama said”

    and it is okay to have them. We can’t all be caregivers, there need to be worriers and needy people too to make the carers feel they are doing something worthwhile.Be a kid, ask for help, say you are scared. Some other day the roles will be reversed. Some days you are the hammer and some days you are the nail; and I really need to get out of song lyrics now! Take care, Shawn!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Lol, thanks for the songs in my head now Kris. I’m not used to being the one needing help so it’s hard for me to admit to being scared which is why writing about being scared is really therapeutic for me. I’m not sure, since this is self inflicted surgery, how much sympathy I’m going to get for being scared.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I hear you mate. Surgeries are scary. I don’t even know if I want them badly enough to take the risk. Even though I hate my female “assets”. Maybe going on T (I can’t wait) will do the trick for me, so I won’t feel the need for surgery anymore. One can dream…
    Wheelchairs? Not so scary, really. There are so many reasons why someone may need a wheelchair and many of them are actually pretty “innocent”. As in, not life-threatening at all. I need one because I have trouble walking. No more, no less. It’s not a big deal. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • I agree with you about wheel chairs. It’s the people in them that sometimes freak me out. It all depends on how obvious it is why they’re using the chair. I just have a very vivid imagination and I can easily imagine all of these awful circumstances and my mind flies into horror mode causing anxiety. Depending on my mood it doesn’t take much to scare me lol. Other times I can be pretty fearless.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Talking about unpleasant stuff is part of being an adult, I think. As a kid everything is sugar coated; actually having to engage in honest conversations can be intimidating. Your blog actually does this very well, so there’s one adult thing you’re doing well.

    When my mom’s mom passed away, my mom said how nobody will ever love you like mom does; I don’t think that’s a part of childhood that ever goes away, the desire to have the unconditional love you were promised as a kid.

    That being said, I wish you the best of luck with your surgery; nobody can promise you that it’ll go well but rest assured that most of the time, doctors need to overstate the possibility of complications even if they’re rare.

    P.S. I nominated you for a liebster award! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks for this comment and the nomination PlainT. I’m honored by the award. I think, even though my relationship with my mom was rocky, I really miss her especially in times like these. She had a way of making me feel safe and protected that no one else ever could. Thank you for reminding me of that.

      Liked by 1 person

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