In Need of Zombie Xanax

I am still recovering from Sunday evening’s Season Finale of The Walking Dead.  In the interest of complete disclosure, I am really still having daymares of 3 episodes ago when The Governor stalked Andrea throughout the abandoned warehouse whistling a crisp tune.  During said episode, I actually hovered behind a beam in the kitchen, overlooking the coffee maker to the television, with my fingers pressing my eyes shut while my thumbs plugged my ears.  Every 7.5 seconds, I would sway to the left of the beam and alternatively peer through my fingers with my left eye, or let the pressure of my right thumb loosen in my right ear.  It was even more incredulous that My Husband just sat there watching, munching away on his hard pretzels and port wine cheese, while I had to start my breathing exercises.

Now, I have a laundry list of reasons that I could entertain a therapist for hours, but my obsession with post apocalyptic zombie encroachment is probably the most detrimental to my sleep at this moment.

By the end of the Season Finale, I will attest that my anxiety level was so high (Where did The Governor go? Why did Martinez and the other guy go with him?   CARL! Someone save Carl!), that it is safe to say that I didn’t sleep. At all.

I sat tossing and turning in a tempered sweat in The Oldest’s bunk bed. (That’s a whole other story. To synopsize- that evening, like a good little Italian boy (1/32 nd) he ate some pine nuts and had a reaction.  I, of course, was certain that at 2 am the Benadryl was going to wear off and he was going to go into anaphylaxis shock.  I decided it was prudent to stay in his room, Epi-Pen in hand, just waiting to recreate the Pulp Fiction resuscitation scene.

While I observed my son’s breathing habits, I kept applying WD scenarios to my life. Will the power just go dead one day and I will find my neighbor eating my dogs?  Halfway through the season, I actually made a case to My Husband on why we needed to keep a bayonet in the house.  Recently, he found a little stash of cash in my closet.  When questioned, my answer was “zombie money- just in case”, he very-so-cautiously- inquired as if it was still appropriate to watch the show.  Those of you who know him would have expected his usual response to Ginaisms with, “Are you &(#* serious?  You ARE looney like a jaybird”.  But, the fact that he was so gentle and a titch kind…makes me realize that YES I am beyond too invested in this series.

So, perhaps, some sort of anxiety medication is in order if I am to proceed with Season 4.

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Although, I may need them sooner.  The opening sequence to the 3rd season of Game of Thrones (another of my cable tv obsessions) showed a Whitewalker hungrily stalking the living…

 

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