It’s hard eating well when you’re traveling. Yesterday I woke up and had two scrambled eggs for breakfast; then we hit the road to Oklahoma from South Carolina.
My fog is beginning to lift. The anxiety I’ve been feeling over the last few weeks (maybe longer – probably longer…yeah – longer) is beginning to subside. As I type this I’m coming off a bout of rapid heart rate/shortness of breath/mild dizziness which I’ve come to recognize as my own, extremely mild version of a panic attack. I’ve had them for years but they’ve been almost constant for the past few weeks which is what initially called my attention to the whole anxiety thing. Once I started really analyzing it I realized that, when it’s coupled with a wave of depression…well…if you’ve been reading this blog then you know what happens. Sherry gets a ticket on the crazy train.
In fact, if I’m honest, this particular train ride started around the holidays last year, culminated over the last few weeks and maybe, just maybe, is on it’s way to being over. (Hmmm…If I remember correctly – that’s just about the time I started fucking around with my medication…point taken.) HOWEVER the absolute best fucking thing about this whole mess is that, for the first time in my whole messed up life I’ve been awake, aware and sober for the whole freaking trip! And, while it’s been quite a journey, I’m beginning to think that I’ve actually learned something about myself this time…little things that I’ve been filing away to look at later.
I think it’s later.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
When I get depressed/anxious, I get a little bipolar. Not in the clinical sense in that I’m not in control, but in the cause and effect way that I totally bring on myself. The more depressed I get the more I try to artificially boost my mood. The more I try to artificially boost my mood and fail, the more manic I get about it. The more manic I get and still fail, the more depressed I get. Can you say vicious cycle? I think that you can…
Now, prior to getting sober I would just numb the feelings,when possible, with copious amounts of wine. But it wasn’t always possible to get myself blotto and escape. Before I started drinking at home, we only went out occasionally so I had to look for other ways to make myself feel better. So I did stuff.
Stuff that I still do. Stuff like…
- Sleeping all the time or wanting to sleep all the time.
- Enrolling in graduate school.
- Looking for a new job.
- Eating too much sugar.
- Rearranging one or several rooms in my house.
- Changing my hair color (length, style).
- Planning an entire redecoration of my house.
- Switching templates on my blog, switching blogs, switching back.
- Either starting or thinking constantly about starting a new (several) diets.
- Becoming way too critical of myself and listening to the bitch that lives in my head.
- Exercising to the point of injury (my knee is shot but I’m still thinking about taking up running?).
- Ignoring my yoga and meditation practices.
- Making my husband nuts and obsessing about our relationship.
- Baking (baking, baking).
- Researching and analyzing (anything and everything).
- Buying and reading so many self-help books that I end up completely confused about what’s wrong and what I’m supposed to do about it.
And that just in the last two weeks. Multiply that by 40 years and you can see how I’ve gotten into some of the issues that I’ve gotten into…add alcohol and…boom…instant fuckedupedness.
This is the first time since I’ve gotten sober that I’ve gone through a full cycle and been aware that I’m taking the crazy train the whole time. Now that I’m approaching the station and will (hopefully) disembark soon, I’ve decided to put the brakes on some of my insanity and maybe take a more relaxed and realistic look at things.
- I’m deferring my graduate school acceptance to at least the spring semester. If I’m still gung-ho then, I’ll move forward. If not, I’ve dodged that particular bullet.
- I’ve spoken to my boss about what I can do with this job that I have rather than trying to jump ship and get myself into a totally new and maybe not so good role. After all, that’s how I ended up getting laid off all those years ago – instead of staying with the job I had where people knew and loved me, I sought out and got a new role that ended up being redundant.
- I’ll keep my doctor’s appointments because I’m still not feeling right but, since God has my back, the appointments are another 3 weeks away – ample time to slow down and reevaluate if necessary.
- Stop obsessing about my weight and my diet. Now that the crazy train is slowing, I’ll bet my reliance on sugar and chocolate will also slow and I’ll be back on a better path soon. That will also take care of the baking. I’ll review the material I ordered on bariatric surgery but I’ll probably end up throwing it in the garbage.
- I’ve begun meditating a little again and I’ll bet money that and my yoga picks up again very soon.
It’s funny what a difference a day can make….well…maybe not. In the shower this morning I prayed for God to draw me a picture, or hit me with one of His bricks, or just be a little more specific with me because clearly I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer when it comes to my own sanity.
Poof! The fog is beginning to lift.
Gotta love those answered prayers.
Believe me when I say that if I were really to think out loud, you would all blush and likely think me more crazy than I’ve already confessed to being. However, I feel the need to “think out loud” today because my move back to this blog has fired up that bitch in my head who refuses to shut the hell up and go away.
For a long while, she’s been very quiet. While my beast sleeps, she doesn’t have much to say…except. Except when I let my guard down. Then she comes roaring back to life like a pre-menstrual woman without any chocolate who’s husband has just asked her for the eleventythousandth time why she’s so bitchy.
Yeah…that bad and that loud.
I’ve been in kind of a funk lately. I’m pretty sure it’s either related to the weather (rain? again? really?) and it may just be cyclical, but my usual happy state of zen has definitely been interrupted and she has taken this opportunity to start up a conversation…
Me: What should I wear today.
Her: Why bother? Nothing looks good on you. You’re fat and getting fatter everyday. Why not just give up and eat whatever you want whenever you want. Doesn’t matter anyway. You’re weak and you’ll never lose the weight.
Me (remember, it’s 7:00 am…my defenses don’t get up until after 9:00 am at least): Maybe you’re right. I’ll just put on this blousy shirt that looks like shit on me and cover it with a jacket.
Her: Jacket? Oh that’s good. So now you’ll look like a fat, sweaty old woman. That will be good for your credibility.
On the outside I’m still the happy, optimistic “go-to” person I’ve always been, but inside I’m waging a war with myself. Some days I win a battle or two and some days she wins. Today she’s winning.
It all started with this damn move of my blog. I swear I am the most fickle blogger on the planet. I am consistently changing my font, or my background or my address. I get bored and change something. (Same way I’m constantly rearranging furniture in my home. I get bored and want a new look!) I never thought that much about it until people actually started reading what I write.
The fact is, I’ve been thinking about coming back over to this blog for awhile now. The other one is nice but it doesn’t feel authentic. I’m a homebody at heart…this is home.
Me: Oh my God! I got 52 page views today. People are actually reading what I write.
Her: They probably just clicked on the link by accident.
Me: No. Some of them leave actual comments! And they’re wonderful and funny and touching.
Her: Well did you check out (insert name here)’s blog? She/He got 475 page views yesterday and has 45 comments and they don’t change their blog as often as they change their underwear.
Me: So…what’s your point? Why do you want me to compare myself to someone else? I’m not anyone else…I’m just me.
Her: Well obviously you’re not good enough.
Me: Oh shut up.
So when Google FINALLY approved my AdSense but put it on the wrong blog…
Her: You can’t go back. No one will follow you. You’re getting on their nerves. Just shut it down. GIVE UP! You’re blogging life is over. You’ll never make any money on AdSense – you’re just kidding yourself. GIVE IT UP! Take some of your own advice and let. it. go.
Me (trying not to get angry because getting angry with myself creates this weird paradox that I have a hard time figuring out): I’ve tried shutting it down and giving up. I can’t. This is my therapy. Even if no one ever reads it, I HAVE to come out here and empty what’s rolling around in my head or I’ll go crazy. It doesn’t matter where I write it down – just that I write it down. Besides, I have to write about bitches like YOU or I spend all my time obsessing about this shit rather than just LIVING. I jeopardize the happy. I can’t risk the happy.
Me: Now shut the fuck up and go back to your cave.
Her: I’ll be back.
Me: I know.