I had an IBS attack yesterday.
I should not have been surprised, and yet, I was completely shocked. My diet has been kind of sketchy since Lent ended--so much for continuing on the no processed train--and fairly horrible the last week, a perfect storm of circumstance and PMS. Even though I know.
As I've mentioned many a time, I'm an incredibly slow learner.
Unfortunately, the attack came while we were at our nephew's baptism party (Logan! Is adorable! And likes Abby better!). Also unfortunately, my anxiety really kicks in when IBS symptoms emerge, and all I could think about was Getting Out.
I tried to talk myself down from the ledge (there's a whole sad litany of things I think in these situations to various degrees of success), but I just could not. The anxiety was too great. I felt extra terrible because the girls were having so much fun with Logan and Kayden, and we don't get to see Eric's sister and brother-in-law too often, and it was a beautiful sunny happy Mother's Day, and I had just managed to ruin it all.
So I don't know, you guys. You probably don't need a lot of details. I'm just so disgusted at myself for letting this happen. Because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what it was I got into, it's that it's my own damn fault.
On the upside, before IBS took me down, I pulled out my stack o' hats to share. I am now down another three, except for some reason no one wants the brown one I'm modeling in Friday's post. Also, I thought these were children's hats, but it just turns out I have an incredibly large head. Ah, well.