Anxiety

What I Learned About My Body This Week

/ Robin / Leave a comment

(aka: The Week My Skeleton Filed a Formal Complaint)

Good morning.

How are you all today?

I hope this finds you better than a lot of people are. And if you are having a good day, don’t feel bad about it. Tomorrow might be your turn to struggle, so if today is good, take the win. Thank the universe for it. Glory in it. Use that energy. Get some rest. You never know what tomorrow is going to bring.

As for me, I’ve had a morning.

I woke up sometime after three. Maybe two. Maybe four. Definitely not five. One of those hours when the world is quiet and your brain decides that now would be a perfect time to wake up and start thinking about everything.

But here’s the thing.

Despite all that, I decided I’m having a good day.

I walked in the rain. I had a cup of coffee. I’m about to do my occupational therapy for my arm and hand. And after that I’m probably going to take a nap.

That counts as a good day.

Of course, my body and I have been having a rather intense conversation lately.

It all started when I fell on January 31 and broke my right arm. A radial fracture, which is doctor language for “this is going to be annoying for quite a while.”

During the ER visit, my muscles decided to join the party by going into severe spasms, which forced my hand into what can only be described as a claw. I responded by screaming. Every single time the spastic cramping tried to snap my hand off I screamed.

Not metaphorically. Can you scream metaphorically? Huh. I’ll have to think about that. Still, my hand struggled and pulled and drove me to screaming again and again while making a literally a claw. Imagine a hand sized turkey foot, which is a claw and I happen to be a Robin who does not happen to have a claw. Not normally. If you heard the scream you’d see the claw.

Evolution? Hardly. Jumping ahead a few hours I asked the “nice” doctor if I could have something for the screaming because he was trying to discharge me while I was still screaming and never mentioned the claw or the screaming.

The ass-hat with the medical degree asked me if I wanted a Valium. He seriously could have stopped me screaming, which I’d been doing for HOURS, with a chill pill? Was he serious? Why? Why!?

Back to our story…

This was not ideal, especially considering I’m right-handed and typing is one of the things I do most in the world. I even buy a smaller sized keyboard for my PC just so my short fingers don’t have to get up and jump so far around to find the next key.  So naturally the universe decided this would be a good time to run a series of medical tests and scans to see what else might be going on.

And that’s when things got interesting.

Since breaking my arm, I’ve had what I can only describe as a parade of imaging technology.

Here’s the current list.

Injuries and Events

• Fell on January 31, 2026 and broke my right arm
• Severe muscle spasms during the ER visit forcing my hand into a painful claw
• Ongoing pain in both legs and lower body since the fall

Hand and Joint Imaging

• Left hand X-ray – no fracture or dislocation found
• Significant pain in the finger joint despite the clear X-ray

Which is one of those moments where modern medicine says, “Nothing is wrong,” while your body says, “Oh really? Because I disagree.”

Then came the spine MRI. Why was I having one of those? Because I’d had a full spine X-ray recently and it showed a bunch of sticks and kindling and someone wanted to investigate further to see if aliens were using it to communicate in code or something cool like that. You never know. I’ve had sever lower back pain since my teens and finally a doctor decided to look at the weird looking things commonly known as “bones.”

This is the part where they slide you into a machine that sounds like someone is building a washing machine factory around your head.

The results:

• Disc bulges at several levels in the lower back
• Disc protrusion at L3–L4
• Mild narrowing of the spinal canal and nerve openings
• Changes in spinal curvature between L4 and S1
• Mild spinal canal narrowing at L4–L5

Apparently these are the areas where nerves travel down into the legs.

Which may explain why my lower body has been staging a protest.

But wait.

There’s more.

While they were examining my spine, the MRI casually discovered something else entirely.

They found a small exophytic mass on my right kidney. “Exophytic” is a weird word, isn’t it? I always thought that the word “mass” was the word to worry about. I’m sure you know what I mean. Is this like one of those alien monsters that burst out of your chest after growing to the size of a small pit bull?

Which was not what anyone was looking for, but there it was anyway, waving hello in the scan.

So now a kidney ultrasound has been ordered to figure out what exactly that is.

Modern imaging technology is very thorough. Sometimes a little too thorough. And just to make things extra festive, we’re also mixing in a few long-standing health factors:

• Rheumatoid arthritis
• Fibromyalgia
• Ostioarthritis
• Sleep Apena
• Panic Disorder
• Hypothyroidism
• ADHD
• Rheumatoid arthritis
• Bipolar Disorder Type 1
• Recent fall trauma
• Total Knee Replacement
• Partial Knee Revision
• Total Knee Replacement
• A broken arm that still hasn’t gotten the memo that I have things to do
• Stop writing! Novel writing happens elsewhere. Not here. -Right! Stopping.

In short, my body and modern imaging technology have been having a very honest conversation this week, and I’ve apparently been invited.

Despite all the strange exotic lumps, the pain and exhaustion, regardless of… I forget again. Wait! The important part. I remember that now. Here it is:

I’m still here. Ain’t no doubt about that. And I’m not going anywhere and you can count on that.

I walked Bailey in the rain this morning. I had coffee. I’m going to do my occupational therapy exercises, and then I’m probably going to take a nap. Healing broken bones is exhausting. This is my second radial head fracture or something like that in the last few years. I’ve gone all my life falling out of forts and off horses, and I finally break stuff when I’m too heavy and out of shape. Talk about bad timing.

And I’ve decided something: I’m the only one who gets to decide whether I’m having a good day.

I asked myself the question: “Am I having a good day?”

And the answer, sometimes surprisingly, is yes. Yes, everything is fine.

Friends, you all have a great day.

And sometime during your day remember to ask yourself: “Am I having a good day?“

Then go have one. Today is never too late to decide to have a good day until it’s tomorrow.

Peace to you all.

Reach out if you want to say hi. I’d love to hear from you.
Honestly, I really do love hearing from each of you.

P.S. I’ve been working on revamping the blog, and while I’m not finished yet, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the new look so far. Since we started adding the cartoon illustrations and have finally completed those for this post, I also decided to create a new header. From now on, you’ll be greeted by me, my son Kyle, Bailey—my Kelpie dog—and Savvy, the amazing cat/dog who truly believes that Bailey is her mom, along with a cozy blanket and my nose warmer.

“I Broke My Arm Yesterday” (The Fall + The Weirdest Help)

/ Robin / Leave a comment
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I broke my arm yesterday.

We haven’t been walking much lately because I got a blister on my big toe about a week ago, and I’m about to turn 63 on Tuesday, which means I’ve entered the stage of life where I don’t “push through” a blister like I’m training for the Olympics. I let it heal. Bailey let it heal. Bailey is my dog and she’s going to be 13 this summer, so neither one of us is interested in unnecessary suffering. We’re old. We’re wise. We’re a little creaky. We take the scenic route.

So Sunday, we finally went out for a walk.

And about a half mile from home, I tripped — I’m pretty sure I tripped over my own dog’s toes. Yes. That sentence is humiliating. Yes. It’s also true.

One second we’re walking, the next second I’m flying at the pavement like a sack of groceries thrown by a demon.

I landed hard. Blunt trauma hard. Chest hard. Elbow hard. Knees hard. Left hand/wrist hard. The greatest hits of “What hurts today?” all came out to play at once.

Bailey stayed with me. Because Bailey is not only a good dog, she’s old enough that she’s not running off to start a second life while I’m face-down on the sidewalk.

Here’s where the world got both kinder and weirder:

A gentleman stranger — total stranger — walked me and Bailey home. He just… did it. Like a decent human being who still exists in the wild. If you’re reading this and you’re him: thank you. Seriously. Thank you.

Once we got home, I called 911.

And that’s where the day became… something else.

Because as soon as help arrived, my forearm muscles started spasming and cramping like a Charley horse… except it wasn’t in my leg. It was in my arm. And it didn’t happen once.

It happened over and over and over again — for the next four or five hours.

Every time it hit, I screamed. Not delicate little whimpers. I mean screaming. The kind of scream where your body is saying, “THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”

And what was weird — and honestly a little unsettling — was that nobody asked me why I was screaming.

Not once.

No one said: “Where is the pain coming from?”
No one said: “What’s happening when you scream?”
No one said: “Is this cramping? Nerve pain? A spasm? A fracture moving?”

I was screaming constantly, and everyone acted like screaming was just… part of the background music.

That messed with my head.

It made me wonder if they understood what they were seeing. Or if they were just trying to get me transported and out of the scene as quickly as possible.

Another confusing thing: When the medics asked if I could walk, I said yes — because I had walked from where I fell, a half mile away, with a stranger and my dog.

They thought I meant I could walk out to the ambulance, and they kept the gurney outside. But I wanted it inside, because — hello — I’m the one with the broken body and the screaming muscles.

So there was a weird mismatch of meaning. I said “yes,” meaning “I got home somehow.” They heard “yes,” meaning “I’m stable and mobile.”

Spoiler: I was not stable and mobile.

By the end of it, here’s what I knew:

  • I had blunt trauma to my chest
  • I had a broken arm (and possibly more than one break, apparently)
  • I had a bruised left hand/wrist
  • I bruised up both knees
  • Everything hurt, everything swelled, and my muscles were furious with me like I’d personally insulted them at a dinner party

And the whole thing landed right before my birthday, because apparently the universe has a calendar and a mean sense of humor.

So yes: tomorrow is my birthday.

And today I am sitting here wondering how I managed to trip over my own dog’s toes and end up in an episode of “Is Anyone Actually Listening to the Screaming Lady?”

Stay tuned.

“Bird’s Birthday Request” (Words, Not Stuff)

Tomorrow is my birthday.

Yes, I’m announcing it. Why? Because I broke myself again, and if I’m going to be dramatic, I might as well be strategic.

Here’s what happened next:

Two days after the fall, the pain wasn’t getting better — it was getting worse — so the doctors sent me back to the ER.

They took off my bandages and immediately decided I was woefully inadequately wrapped, which was both validating and annoying. Like… great, so it wasn’t just me being a baby. It genuinely wasn’t wrapped right.

This time I got wrapped properly — and the doctor’s name, I swear on everything, was Dr. Justice.

Which is hilarious, because I have a publishing company called Justice House. So for a second I’m sitting there like, “Of course. Of course the universe would send me Dr. Justice. I’m in pain, but at least the casting department is still working.”

Anyway: she indicated it could be more than one break, but it was a busy ER and she didn’t stick around long.

They wrapped me up, padded me like I’m being shipped by UPS, and then tried to position the splint across my chest the way it needed to be… and it wouldn’t bend because it hardened too fast.

So it all had to come off. And then they did it again.

This time, she didn’t wet the splint at all — but apparently opening it activates it, because by the time she finished wrapping me, it was hard as a rock, already set, and finally positioned correctly across my chest.

And now it’s not digging into me the way it was before.

It still hurts, of course. My muscles still hate me. My chest has opinions. My knees are swollen. My left hand has arthritis and it’s now throwing a full tantrum and shooting pain at me like it has access to a paintball gun.

And my right arm is basically a decorative object at this point.

So here’s the thing:

If anyone is thinking about doing something for my birthday — or even if you weren’t thinking about it at all — I would like to invite you to do something clever.

I wanted a really cool fountain pen for my birthday this year, but I can’t write anything right now. So maybe next year. Or Mother’s Day.

But this year?

This year I want words.

I want messages. I want DMs. I want notes. I want people to say, “Hey Bird, I see you.”

Audible gift cards? Yes, please. Audiobooks are my sanity right now.

A phone call? I would love that.
You don’t even have to call — leave me a message.
Send me a DM.
Send me a little piece of your life.

Just… words. Conversation. Connection.

Because while I was in the hospital, one of the girls working there actually said, “Girl, you need to do stand-up.”

And I laughed — because that’s exactly how it goes. I’m in pain, my mom’s attitude is “shut up,” the nurses think I’m funny, and somehow I’m doing comedy while my bones are trying to exit the building.

So yes. Tomorrow is my birthday.

And I’m asking for something simple:

Send me words.
Send me kindness.
Send me a little hello.

I’m Bird. I’ve grown up and now I’m known as Bird in many corners of the internet. And right now, I could really use some voices that aren’t medical and aren’t my own internal “why does this always happen right before something important?” voice.

That’s my birthday request.

Words.

Thank you for stopping by! Please say hello in the comments. I’d love to hear from you. I’m starting more new things tomorrow and I hope you’ll be here. Take care friend.

Bird

Anxiety Was the One That Hit Me 2025

/ Robin / 1 Comment
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 I think 2025 was the year all our collective emotions ignited and converged. We rolled down hills of emotions that were out of control, dangerous, fast-moving, and hard to stop.

Everything felt louder. Sharper. More immediate. 

If you asked me what emotion slapped me around the most, I’d answer quickly and without doubt: anxiety. 

Not sadness. 

Not anger. 

Anxiety. 

The constant hum underneath everything else. 

Anxiety Is an Emotion, Not a Personality.

Anxiety is an emotion. It’s fast. It’s physical. It shows up in the body before the mind has a chance to explain it. Like fear or joy, it’s meant to rise, do its work, and pass. 

Did you catch that? Rise. Work. Pass. 

If you always feel anxious, perhaps it’s time to ask why. 
Anxiety is not a personality trait. Feeling anxious does not mean you are an anxious person. It doesn’t define your character, your strength, or your intelligence. It simply means your nervous system has entered a heightened state. A heightened and temporary state. 

That distinction alone can ease a great deal of shame. 

What Anxiety Was Built For… 

Anxiety did not evolve to make life miserable. It evolved to keep humans alive. 

At its core, anxiety is a forward-scanning survival system. It watches for danger, notices changes in the environment and prepares the body to respond. For most of human history, that danger was immediate and concrete: predators, hostile groups, unstable terrain. 

Back in the way when of yesteryear, the system would activate, action would happen, and then it would shut off. Work done. Shut down. 

The issue isn’t that anxiety exists. 

The issue is that modern life rarely gives it a clear “all clear.” 

It’s kind of like this: YouTube Shorts beckon you to follow and not fall behind. You don’t fall behind. But you do become locked on target, going and going. There’s no clear stopping point, no natural resolution. So, the system never gets the signal to stand down. 

When Anxiety Becomes Constant 

When anxiety doesn’t resolve or disappear and instead lingers, what begins as a brief emotional response can slowly turn into a mood. Not because something is wrong with you, but because the system never receives the signal that it’s safe. 

At that point, anxiety stops feeling sharp and starts feeling heavy.

Exhausting. Backgrounded. Less like panic and more like constant vigilance. 

This isn’t weakness. 

It’s fatigue 

Anxiety Around People 

Anxiety doesn’t only show up around events. It often shows up around people. 

Certain interactions, certain dynamics, and certain forms of closeness can activate anxiety even when nothing overtly threatening is happening. Physical proximity matters. Unpredictability matters. History matters. 

Anxiety responds to patterns and access. The body often reacts before the mind has the words. That doesn’t mean anxiety is always a command to act. 

But it does mean it’s information worth paying attention to. 
Survival Responses Aren’t Just Fight or Flight 
Most of us were taught that when danger appears, we either fight it or run from it. That’s only part of the picture. 

There are other survival responses that exist precisely for situations where fighting or fleeing isn’t clean or safe. Sometimes the body freezes, becoming hyper-alert and still. Sometimes it appeases, explains, or smooths things over to reduce escalation. 

These responses are not failures. They are strategies. 

If you’ve ever wondered why you didn’t “just leave” or “just stand up for yourself,” the answer is often that your nervous system chose the option it believed would keep you safest at the time. 

Anxiety as Protective Surveillance 

In many situations, anxiety isn’t panic. It’s watchfulness. 

Protective surveillance looks like this: 

  • Watching for pattern repetition 
  • Bracing for sudden reversal or blame 
  • Staying ready to defend reality 

This is not an irrational fear. It is mental labor. It is the nervous system maintaining guard when it does not trust that conditions are stable. 

That’s why anxiety can feel tiring rather than dramatic. 
The system isn’t screaming. It’s standing watch. 
Grounding as Regulation, Not Self-Improvement 
Grounding techniques are often misunderstood as tools to “fix” anxiety or make someone calmer. 

That’s not their purpose. 

Grounding is about regulation, not self-improvement. It gives the nervous system clear, physical signals that, in this moment, you are here, supported, and not under immediate threat. 
Simple actions like placing your feet on the floor, noticing what you can see, feel, or hear, or slowing your exhale do not solve your life. They widen the present moment just enough for the system to pause. 

You’re not erasing anxiety. 

You’re allowing a guard to rest. 

A Gentle Close 

If anxiety has been loud for you, it does not mean you are broken. It may mean your nervous system has been carrying too much responsibility for too long. 

You do not need to overhaul yourself. You do not need perfect calm. You do not need to defeat your own body. 

Sometimes it’s enough to offer small, real signals of safety and let the system settle inch by inch.  

Protection does not always look like running. 
Sometimes it looks like noticing. 
Sometimes it looks like resting. 

And sometimes, that is exactly what allows anxiety to stand down. 

Would you like to learn to be steady and stand strong with me? 

I would welcome your company. 

My best regards and dearest felicitations, 

Bird 

Today’s Fear: My Take on Managing Inauguration Day Anxiety

/ Robin / 1 Comment

I’m having political anxiety right now. I’ve been worried about talking about it because I feel like I need to tell you about some personal choices and these days it seems dangerous to do that. I don’t think it can be helped. Haters gonna hate

Today is Inauguration Day for the next president. I’m not excited; I feel trepidation. I’m not happy; I feel depressed. I’m crushingly sad; I feel—very afraid.

I don’t know where you’re at today emotionally, but if you experience political anxiety, which can be about a bazillion things, here are a few to consider:

Are you stressed about potential policy changes that might affect you directly? Are you worried about the divisions in the country becoming deeper and more irreparable? Or maybe you’re concerned about the political climate affecting your community, workplace, or personal relationships?

Whatever the cause, political anxiety is real and affects a lot of us in very personal ways. Here’s what I’m doing to manage it—maybe some of these strategies can help you too:

  1. Stay Informed but Set Limits: I need to stay updated, but too much news can overwhelm anyone. I stick to trusted news sources and avoid misinformation, which can add to the anxiety.
  2. Engage in Constructive Conversations: Talking through my fears and opinions helps, but I make sure these discussions are constructive, not confrontational. Finding people who can engage in respectful dialogue—regardless of their political stance—helps me feel less isolated with my concerns.
  3. Immediate Actions for Emotional Relief: Since the elections have just concluded and the new president is being sworn in today, my feelings of urgency require immediate attention. In moments like these, I find it helpful to engage in activities that ground me in the present, like a short mindfulness exercise or a brisk walk.
  4. Self-care is Crucial: On days when everything seems too much, I prioritize self-care. Whether it’s reading a book, taking a walk, or practicing meditation, taking time to unwind helps reset my emotional state.
  5. Seek Professional Help if Needed: Sometimes, talking to friends or family isn’t enough. I’m not hesitant to seek help from a therapist or counselor, especially when anxiety starts to impact my daily life significantly.
  6. It’s Good to Have Your Own Opinions: Don’t let anyone bully you. Agree to disagree. Say it. Don’t be afraid. You can draw boundaries. “We can talk about this up to this point—and no further.” If the boundary is crossed, you have your own permission to exit the conversation. As the saying goes, “Just say NO.”

Remember, it’s okay to take a step back and breathe. Now more than ever, politics impacts us all in our daily lives, but taking care of your mental health is crucial. Let’s not let our fears and anxieties hold us back from living. Keep looking for moments of joy and unity—they can often be found where we least expect them.

Today’s video is a short that shows how beauty… well, you should check it out. Amazing.

Beauty and Peace

We can’t exist on an island alone. If you’re reading this then we definitely have some things in common. I’d really love to hear about some of your coping ideas. Why don’t you post some below?

Be well friends,

Robin

Political Anxiety Really Sucks: Do You Suffer from it Too?

/ Robin

Political Anxiety Really Sucks: Do You Suffer from It Too?

You know that pit-in-your-stomach feeling when you hear breaking news, and you just know it’s not going to be good? Yeah, me too. Political anxiety has basically set up camp in my brain, and it’s not paying rent. My family and I are right there with you, doom-scrolling through the headlines and trying to figure out how to stay informed without completely losing it. Spoiler alert: we haven’t cracked the code yet.

Let’s be real—this stress isn’t just annoying; it’s exhausting. It’s like the background music in a horror movie, always there, keeping you on edge. Even when you try to ignore it, it sneaks into your conversations, your social media feeds, and that tiny moment of peace you thought you had before bed. But here’s the thing: we’re all dealing with this, and it’s okay to admit it’s hard. (And if you’ve mastered the art of not caring while staying informed, please tell me your secrets!)

Over the next few posts, I’m going to dive into this whole political anxiety mess—what it is, why it feels so terrible, and what we can actually do about it. By the end of the series, I’m hoping we’ll all have a few solid tricks to keep our sanity intact without turning into hermits. Stick with me—it’s going to be an anxiety-filled, occasionally funny ride.