Neuroses

Top reasons my dear husband thinks I should see a therapist.

1) As I explained to DH, every time Holden is with a sitter (my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, any person whatsoever) I worry that the person will give him hard candy, a hot dog, grapes, or the like and he will choke. And/or I will be there and not watching when they do this and they will come running to me (the one who knows CPR & the Heimlich) and I will watch my baby die. I know this is crazy. And extremely unlikely, but I still think about it every time.

2) Very similar to the prior imagining is this one: Babysitter will give Holden nuts and he will be allergic and go into anaphylaxis. Or get stung by a bee (and again, the anaphylaxis). Or maybe he will eat something with e-coli or salmonella because they give him undercooked meat.

3) I have a strong fear of death of loved ones. I think mostly because it has happened in the past and it sucked. And it will happen again in the future. Like DH said, it's inevitable. It just seems like it's happening a lot to family members while I am still at a young age. But I guess everyone is too young when they die. Unless they are over 100 and they die in their sleep. I think that would be ok.

4) I have severe abandonment issues because my mother killed herself. That type of death carries with it the fact that the person chose to leave. In effect, abandoning me. Thus the issues.

So those are the worst of it. I think that those are all pretty valid things to think about when I have been so close to pretty traumatic deaths. So I guess the question is: When do thoughts and feelings cross the line from neuroses to diagnoses?

In my defense, I still allow Holden to be babysat all the time. And I mean all the time (usually at least once a week or once every two weeks) . And at least I know I have abandonment issues, and I try to compensate by realizing that no, my husband is not going to leave me, and my family is not going to leave me by death or otherwise if they can help it.

And the fear of death thing comes from facing mortality, even feeling it. For example, feeling Allison moving when she was alive and then feeling her stillness. Feeling her death was something that I can't forget. I can't shake it. It's been there everyday since the Monday I last remember feeling her move. It's sort of like that last impression you have of someone. That's why I hate going to funerals with open caskets. I like the last impression to be good. And with Ally it was. We were lying in bed talking and I could feel her kicking. I reached over and grabbed Tony's hand for him to feel it. He felt my belly for a little while and then we shut off the lamp by the bedside and went to sleep. That's the last time I felt her.

We ordered her headstone yesterday. It wasn't too bad. A little closure for a very open wound.

The last few days have felt really good. I was driving today with the windows rolled down and enjoying the feeling of the wind and my longish hair on my bare shoulders. The summer has gone too fast and I'm trying to savor the last few days of freedom. Like a little kid who doesn't want to go back to school, I've been trying to pack in as many summer activities as possible. I even started a new beach read book but as I was buying it I already felt a sense of it being too late for beach reading because the summer is nearly over. I try to only read trashy novels in the summer because I can call them beach reading and get away with it.

All day long I was enjoying my day alone thinking funny, self-deprecating things to say on my blog and I sit down to write and not a one comes out. I am often silently scolding myself when I go out in public because I wish I would have brought my laptop so I could write down the funny thing I thought. I suppose I should save some things for the book though.

the book?