deleting your instagram is the new black

when your anxiety outlasts the nail polish on your toes

So, I deleted Instagram last week or the week before. I can't remember exactly when it was. Maybe that's because I was relying too much on Instagram/social media to mark the time (and pass it). 

When you have a baby, a lot of things change about your life. A lot of this change is expected, like never sleeping normally again, or crying a lot at certain movies (I hate u, Goofy Movie), and ESPECIALLY (most importantly) going through more laundry than you thought possible. You know those huge gallons of laundry detergent you can buy at Costco? We had one of those when we were first married—it was actually a wedding gift, ha. It took us all of 2 years to finish it off.

Well, we bought another one right before Matilda was born and it's nearly gone. No, you didn't come here to read about the amount of puke I deal with now (wait...maybe you did? If you did, sorry, I think you have the wrong blog). The point is, I was expecting most of the change that's come with Matilda. And she's worth it all. But some of the change...a certain....virus....well, that was unexpected. 

I used to write a lot. I used to give myself time for other things, but with the baby and quarantine, every day kind of dissolves into the next. And it's summer in Arizona, which is basically just "stay inside for 6 months you sweaty pug." (I wish I identified as a better-looking dog, like a Golden Retriever, but no...I think I am 100% a pug).

Please bless I never talk about coronavirus again because I'm just sick of reading about it, talking about it, thinking about it, having nightmares about it, etc. Next thing you know, Swig is going to name a drink after it (wait, that would be bad marketing, and also....the beer? C'mon McKenzie).

So anyway, Instagram was the best way to escape these feelings of...being trapped. Whoops, got a little too real right there, but it's ironic, right? So instead of reading scriptures every night I would scroll, scroll, scroll. I don't want to know how many miles I have scrolled through Instagram but it sure isn't equal to the amount I've walked in the past few months (my dead FitBit just rolled in its grave). 

I've always been an anxious person, but in the last 5 years, it really began to flare up. I don't deal with change very well, and if I'm not doing what I should do to keep the crazy anxiety thoughts from spiraling down the McKenzie Brain Drain, it starts to manifest. In lots of scrolling. Lots of scrolling and feeling sorry for myself because...my inner dialogue be like:

• Why don't you have a house?

• Why haven't you paid off your student loans already?

• Why are you using your Master's degree to write about freaking mattresses? (this one depresses me the most)

• Wow they already have 5 kids at your age, you just have 1! (this one...particularly dumb, but I know I'm not the only one who has thought having children is some kind of race) (LET ME TELL YOU THERE IS NOTHING FAST ABOUT THOSE 9 MONTHS)

• Why don't you read your scriptures more?

• Why don't you exercise? You need to lose weight.

• Why don't you cook more? 

• Why do you still have adult acne? *cue the tears of irony*

And on and on! Exhausting. Not to mention, boring. 

No, really. Nobody talks about how boring anxiety is. It gets your heart pumping and you can't breathe, much like feelings you'd get on a roller coaster or somewhere actually fun, like a theme park, but no. It's boring as hell. You're just sitting around (or my preferred position for an anxiety attack, flat on my back in bed with a pillow to muffle my crying so Houston can't hear me). 

And instead of these really awful things happening to you, which would be awful, but also, would be SOMETHING HAPPENING, you're just imagining it all! That's right! It's all in your head. But logic doesn't work, either. See, I'm writing all this down and it sounds stupid, but that won't stop my brain from making me feel lame.

So, conclusion. Instagram made everything worse. I know there's plenty of studies showing the correlation between mental health and social media, and it's still inconclusive, but this is my experience. Instagram just made me feel like a speck of dirt. 

Instead, I'm just gonna blog again because that's fun. And it's not an echo chamber (well, it is, but it's just MY voice, so that's fine) (insert sunglasses emoji).

Now here's some pictures because mom always said never post a blog post without pictures!

(No, my mom didn't teach me that, because I came of age in the 90s, where the highest form of technology I used was a Tamagotchi)

I gave birth to... an extrovert?

her halo 😍😍 (Houston says emojis are for teenagers. I'll show him!)

here my designer eye bags are on fine display (and the reason they exist)

hello from the void

The girl writing this has spit-up on her shoulder and funky creases under her eyes (they've been there since teenagehood, but they've gotten deeper in the last year).

The messy bun atop her head is always there now; the only thing variance is its position (a little to the left or right) and the color of scrunchie holding it together.

I guess we've been in quarantine...er...indoors for about a month now. When I say "quarantine" I just imagine Matt Damon sitting behind a glass wall for a few days in the movie Contagion (of course it is one of the top 10 movies on every streaming service right now).

After spending a few days (I'm guessing it was a couple of weeks, but the movie makes it seem faster) behind glass and making sad faces at his daughter on the other side, the doctors announce he's immune and can go home. But chaos still ensues everywhere else. People are looting grocery stores (that's kind of happening now?), his daughter's prom is canceled, an anti-vaxxer tries to sell people on an herbal remedy by faking sick, and people are getting buried in mass graves. About a year or so later, Jennifer Ehle (Elizabeth Bennett, of course!) figures out a vaccine, but to get it, people have to enter a lottery. Please let that not be what happens this time.

Anywho, all this virus talk bums me out. Just like you, I scroll through social media every day and hear more bad news about it. Of course, good deeds and hope shine through, but most of the time, the bad stuff seems to only leave a tiny sliver for that light to slip through.

If anything, this virus has reminded me of how important people are. Even though we don't live close to family, I still miss the possibility of being able to visit them. And I don't have many friends in Arizona, but the few I have, well, waving to them from far away just isn't the same.

This is the only droopy post I'm gonna write about the coronavirus. I'm all for keeping it real, but some days (most days) I need a respite. I need somewhere to forget about it for a while, and maybe you do, too. Just assume that everyone around you is a little scared right now and treat them with extra kindness and compassion. If there's anything we need more of right now, it's that. And toilet paper.

mom, what's a quarter teen?

^^Things I imagine my children asking me in 10 or 15 years when I talk about that weird time that was March 2020 (and April...and let's be honest...probably May).

Before we were confined to our apartment, I was still mostly at home all day. I've been working from home since December and before that, I was pregnant and I did not have one of those pregnancies where you post glowing selfies and wear cute maternity clothes. Honestly, I was miserable for all 9 months and I seriously considered burning my maternity jeans after it was all over.

Reading the news right now is only helpful to a certain degree. It motivates me to stay inside as much as possible, but it also stresses me out (lit'rally everyone is experiencing this, I am not unique). So then I escape to Netflix, audiobooks, or some kind of craft.

Right now there's lots of memes circulating sayin' stuff like "I was an InTroVeRT before this, my life is no different." But, like, yEAH it is. I'm an introvert but I still miss going to the store or talking to our friends or going to church. You can't say that staying holed up inside all day is normal for you.

Anywho, I've come back to blogging because writing has always been an outlet for me and I ignored it for a year because #PREGANANANT. I have never spent so much time being horizontal, f'real.

Matilda is almost 3 months old now, so I need to catch up. Hence, the resurrection of Will Write for Tacos (lol).