anxiety, depression

AvP

I really enjoyed the Alien vs Predator movies. I really enjoyed the new Predator movie “Prey” even more. But that is not what this is about. This is about me, obviously. Just in case you forgot.

Anxiety attacks and panic attacks are almost the same thing but they are very different. They have similar symptoms, but you shouldn’t confuse the two afflictions. I could describe the differences between the two, but then I would have to kill you.

(Do I need to add a sarcasm note here?)

I have been suffering from anxiety attacks all week. I don’t know why, so don’t ask what’s wrong. Nothing is wrong other than these stupid anxiety attacks. I used to think the difference between the two was external stimuli versus internal stimuli. Then I thought the difference was the intensity of the symptoms. Now… I have no idea.

So, here is where this non-doctor is going. For me, Panic attacks are short and bitter sweet, typically caused by an incident and soon forgotten. Anxiety attacks are my brain fucking with me from all angles on a slight and subtle level over hours.

I keep trying to figure out what is causing the anxiety attacks because everyone keeps asking me. Like, dude, what happened? (Don’t get me started on the people that confuse being anxious about something and having anxiety).

I don’t know what’s causing my anxiety. Maybe I need new meds. Maybe I need talk therapy again. Maybe I need another shot. Maybe I need to leave this apartment. Maybe I need to have sex with Paul Rudd. Who knows? Do you?

anxiety, depression, Song Lyrics

Off

How about getting off of these anti-depressants

How about stopping eating when I am full up

How about not blaming you for everything?

How about me enjoying the moment for once?

How about grieving it all at one time?

How about no longer being masochistic?

How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out?

How about not equating death with stopping?

How about remembering your divinity?

Thank you divinity.

Thank you divinity.

>Alanis Morissette (sort of)

emotions, Motivation

Fantastical

One of the most amazing things about my husband is that he gets caught up and rides the wave of my fantastical thoughts and dreams. I don’t think he believes them any more than I do, but he doesn’t question them. I talk about my newest fantastical dream and he goes along. Like, it could happen.

I talk about moving to a small town to be in the Gilmore Girls world. I talk about moving to Spain to be among the beautiful men. I talk about buying property in Oakland. I talk about so many things. And the love of my life… he just goes along with it. We both know these won’t happen, but he never bursts my bubble. He encourages this.

My newest and most fabulous one? I am going to buy a house in Guerneville while finding a fully 100% telecommuting position. I can be there five to six days a week. We can swap between our apartment and there. I can walk down main street holding his hand without fear. I can be. I can live. So much life with so little outside interference.

I love me more and more as the days go on. My dreams get bigger and better. But one day, these won’t be dreams anymore. They will be. We will be.

anxiety, depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Hero

People talk about their internal struggles in regards to animals or angels and devils. They have two dragons battling inside or two tigers. They have a good angel and a bad angel. But not me. I have two women from the 1980’s battling in my head.

I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ’til the end of the night
He’s gotta be strong, and he’s gotta be fast
And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight

and

We don’t need another hero
We don’t need to know the way home
All we want is life beyond the Thunderdome

and

Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere, just beyond my reach
There’s someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder
And rising with the heat
It’s gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet, yeah

and

Looking for something
We can rely on
There’s gotta be something better out there
Love and compassion
Their day is coming (coming)
All else are castles built in the air
And I wonder when we
Are ever gonna change, change
Living under the fear
‘Til nothing else remains

and

I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ’til the morning light
He’s gotta be sure, and it’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life

and

So, what do we do with our lives?
We leave only a mark
Will our story shine like a light
Or end in the dark
Is it all or nothing?
We don’t need another hero

depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Bullets

I heard a song recently and it got stuck in my head. I was excited because I thought I was on to a 70’s or 80’s song. I don’t usually get those in my head. I thought it even might be David Bowie (please don’t hate me)

But it wasn’t any of that. The song was from 2017. And I hate myself. It’s almost as bad as that time that I found out I loved a song by Justin Bieber. This time, though, it wasn’t quite as bad. It was Harry Styles.

Here we go with Sign of the Times from some Brit dude that is way too young for me to be looking at.

If we never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
We never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets

Just stop your crying
It’s a sign of the times
We gotta get away from here
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
It’ll be alright
They told me that the end is near
We gotta get away from here

I really don’t want to live in a world where so many fucking value guns over life… the life of children. My head hurts, my soul cries, my brain cannot handle…

depression, emotions

Pride2022

June is Pride month. I am doing my best this year, but I don’t have a lot of pride this year. Let’s be honest here. The last two years I have gotten older. I have gained weight. I have been spending most of my time at a desk for work or for school. Apparently I have outdated ideas for how to celebrate Pride.

I have not seen the extent of the ageism in the LGBTQIA+ community until recently. I was not a pioneer of the Pride movement, and there was an entire generation before me. I have, however, pushed and screamed to get equality. I dreamed of having a wedding where I walked down the aisle in an outfit with the top half being a tuxedo and the bottom half being a sprawling wedding gown. Black of course.

The time was not right, though. I did not have a lot of openly gay idols. I typically stuck with my divas like Madonna, Tina Turner, and, of course, my idol, Cyndi Lauper. I remember in high school when I waited until after first period, which was wood shop, to run to the bathroom and use temporary dye to put orange and yellow streaks in my hair. I remember having the checkerboard shaved into the side of my head. But, and here is where my origin story music would start, I was bullied. I was knocked down. I was tossed against the locker. I was fucking weird.

I left home at 17 to get out and find the world. I spent the summer with my oldest brother to visit and get advice on school. I enrolled at a university but at the last minute, I dropped out. What if life at that university was the same as my high school? I would be all alone in a city of millions of people and no one to turn to. No one to go home to.

I made some friends in the town that I was in. Obviously I moved out of my brother’s place. But I stayed there. My friends loved me and we had fun, but I wasn’t honest with them yet. That was to come. That is another story for October.

I finally came out by accident. That’s a story for an afternoon at the bar. So many mimosas needed for those stories.

I joined the Navy. I was going to be a Nuclear Submarine Engineer, but Clinton signed the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell law. That is yet another story for another time, but I got booted.

As I look over my life and my experiences, the bullying, the gay bashing, the beatings, the drive-by beer bottle tosses, I can’t help but think that I deserve my place in the community. As I look for ways to celebrate and show our Pride, I keep getting the “that’s for old people” or “we don’t really do that anymore” or “how old are you?”.

And now, as we are approaching SF Pride, and as we are wrapping up the Pride month, I am tired again. This time, though, it’s not the same people pushing me down. This time, it’s different and I just don’t have the energy to fight today.

So, Happy Pride. Celebrate. Be yourself. Love yourself. Call me if you are feeling low or down or bad. You don’t have to be alone, but I am not going out to be there in the moments of Pride.

depression, Motivation, Sleep

Vacation

When I go on vacation, my depression goes with me. I don’t have the option to leave it at home. But there is something about being on vacation that helps to reduce the effects of my depression. Maybe it is because I am doing so much or walking more or just spending so much time outdoors.

If you like to schedule your vacation with a hard list of things to do and times to do them, you won’t like me as a companion. I want to do all the things and I want to see all the things. I want to eat all the things. But remember, my depression is with me. I don’t get to decide everything.

I love travelling with people and I love vacations. Please invite me with you. But please understand that my limitations don’t end just because I’m on vacation.

anxiety, depression, Motivation

Healthy

Sometimes I hate people that don’t suffer from depression or anxiety. These illnesses cause so many issues, but those issues are invisible.

Do you actually think that I want to lay around all day? Well, I don’t. I want to get up and do the laundry, the dishes, the cleaning. I want to get up and make my home look beautiful. But that’s not in the cards for me.

I want to build my bath and body products. Even if I only give them as gifts. I want to go out for walks or go bicycling. Most days, though, that’s not in the cards.

So that makes me lazy, uninvolved, or sloppy. I get it. Sorry for the rant but my brain has been yelling at me about this for a bit and I need to get it out.

depression, Motivation, Sleep

DST

Daylight Saving Time is here yet again. The week of the time change is hard on me mentally. My depression loves the two weeks that we do this.

I am not sure if it’s the lack of sleep on the one night or just the change in general. I struggle to get out of bed. I struggle to make it through my days. I struggle.

Every year, I reach out to my Senators in the Spring and Autumn about this. Every year I am ignored. Until this year. We actually have a chance to stop the time changes. The Senate, which is deeply divided on everything, passed the resolution to switch to DST next Spring and then stay there.

There is hope in every situation. Sometimes it’s hard to see after so many failures, but keep looking.