My boyfriend J and I went up to stay at my parents' house this weekend so that we could attend my friend K's wedding. And because my brain hates me, I was dealing with an escalating anxiety/panic cycle all day. My heart was beating faster than normal, and I spent an inordinate amount of time worrying about everything from the condition of my skin to which route I would take to drive home. And I think my blood pressure was high - or maybe my hormones were all of out whack? - because I felt like I was getting hot flashes all day.
Then during the drive up, J and I had a very tense conversation that left me feeling hurt and attacked, when in fact I was saying some things that were somewhat irrational (but felt true at the time).
I really, really should have tried grounding myself to get it under control. J even found my hematite in the car - I really should have taken that as a sign. But of course, instead, I spent all day inwardly denying what was going on. Gods, I am one stubborn Irishwoman.
Come bedtime, and I can't find the pillow I usually sleep on when I'm at my parents', my teddy bear (oh hush), or the books I had accidentally left there the last time. Cue full-blown panic attack. I started freaking out about how I wouldn't be able to sleep, and how I thought my Mom had thrown them away. I scoured the whole house and couldn't find them (I was actually pretty thorough in my search - my Mom is just really good at "putting things away" in places that make no sense.) Poor J bore the brunt of it, and I definitely kept him awake while I kept going in and out of the room looking for my things. I think I finally found a pillow that was half-suitable and eventually fell asleep.
And that, my friends, is why you should always bring your own pillow when you visit your parents.