Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Pounded the router; hard

I am well into my 40s and the parent of a single child. A child I am forever telling off for raging on inanimate objects.

In my case it was a perfect blend of pain, stress, anxiety and admin that, when combined with the router dropping out, meant I dropped my shit.

I screamed a great long yowl as I slapped the top of the router about 68 times in three seconds—a hummingbird of rage against the machine.

Turns out, after thewife called to sort it, it was a network-wide issue.

With all my recent appointments done my body went back a step and I woke in pain—IBS, fibro and arthritic bursts out of various joints—had a pain-wracked afternoon sleep, crawled atop the SoTPC and rode for an hour plus then into the shower. I was then freshly dried and dressed when I attempted admin, reset the router three times to no success then had my hummingbird moment.

Obviously it's working now. 

After the rage attack I yelled some more at the router, screamed at it, called it the worst things I could think because right in that moment it had tipped me over the edge because it didn't work. Then logic Mikey took over, recognising slapping the bad thing that won't work and fretting wasn't helping and took himself off to the shed to play Freecell in front of an oscillating fan.

I hate that about anxiety when it's up. That you can tip over or cook off with high emotion if your ability to cope has been reached or because a trigger just pulled because you got dragged screaming into your pain.

But then I hate anxiety—irrespective of severity—even if it's part of that hottest fire that makes me the strongest steel. 

So still WFTW.

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