anxiety, Motivation

Decisions

I am at the point in my anxiety where it is very difficult to make basic decisions. I skip meals when I can’t decide if I’d rather have a can of soup or a sandwich. I fret for hours over whether I should buy trash bags this week or wait until next week.

During times like this, I need to get a personal shopper. Tell them what I need and what my tastes/needs are with the item(s) and either give them my card or have them get me a price (with a finder’s fee of course) and then venmo them the money to take care of it.

I am so frustrated. I should be able to do simple things like pick out some pots for the new plants that I won at work. I should be able to decide what time of potting soil to buy. And my lucky bamboo needs to be moved to a bigger container so I have to decide whether I keep them in water/rocks or switch to potting soil.

That doesn’t even get to the other decisions and purchases that I have to make. I get so frustrated when my anxiety locks my brain up like this. Why does my brain get so overwhelmed with everyday choices like this?

Decisions. Decisions.

anxiety, depression, emotions

Axis

Most of us don’t remember the World Wars. Most of us don’t remember the concentration camps. I mean, we can’t. We give Germany a side eye for the Nazis and Hitler because that’s the appropriate thing to do.

The election in 2020 isn’t about being a liberal or a conservative. It’s not about being a Democrat or being a Republican. It’s about Axis and Allies. As a country, we have to decide if we are still going to stand up for freedom. Do we believe in the Constitution (let’s not get technical on originalist vs modern)?

I try to keep politics separate from here. My depression knows no party, no affiliation; but we are on the brink of disaster and it is destroying me. It confounds me that so many Americans hate the core values of America while proclaiming to be patriots. We are all created equal. There is nothing about keeping the Mexicans out or deporting the Blacks. There is nothing about hatred for the LGBT community.

This election is not like any election in modern US history. We have to decide whether we want to be Axis or Allies. I’m afraid that we are going to choose wrong. And if we do, gods bless us. We will need it.

(note: I will not get overly political on here. I just needed to get this out)

anxiety, depression, Sleep

Midnight

It’s 12am and I’m awake. I shouldn’t be. I think my manic episodes are coming back. My brain and my body just get so focused on things at times that I wonder if I am really in control here.

Tonight, I felt the need to have a nightcap. That was 4 drinks ago. My mouth wants to inhale the contents of everything while my body wants to consume the soul of every bottle. (side note: do bottles of alcohol have souls?)

I need to go to sleep because I work in the morning. I am breaking so many of my cardinal drinking rules; and yet, here I am. It’s 12am and I’m awake.

I can’t sleep. I can’t sit still. I can’t focus on any one thing. Also, I’m 20% Scottish I guess. Ancestry DNA keeps updating and I think I just got distracted. But I might get a kilt while I’m here.

I wonder if they have small apartment cats. Like, they have outdoor cats. Do they have “I live in a small apartment but I would love to worship a cat” cat? I miss the apartment on Talbott street with the long hallway that the cats would zoom up and down. And the porch that I would sit on while watching real thunderstorms. If you have never seen it literally raining sideways, you’ve never lived in the Midwest.

I got lost. It’s midnight. I’m not on Talbott street. I don’t have cats to worship. My brain is going 100 miles an hour. I need to go to sleep. Yet, here I am.

anxiety, depression, emotions, Song Lyrics

Money

They say that money can’t buy happiness. I wonder who “they” are in this saying. I have to say that having money can make one happier.

Money can’t buy it, baby
Sex can’t buy it, baby
Drugs can’t buy it, baby
You can’t buy it, baby

I’m going to flip scrip on Ms. Lennox. I am going to reach into the heart of a boy that grew up without money; without happiness.

Money can buy it. Sex can buy it. Drugs can buy it. You can buy it.

Money can buy happiness in the sense of not stressing about how to pay rent or buy groceries. Sex can buy happiness buy providing validation to a person’s self. Drugs can buy the mental calmness that eludes oneself. You can buy all of these things for me.

But buying these won’t make me happy. Money won’t guarantee happiness. Sex won’t guarantee validation. Drugs won’t guarantee a better mind. You won’t guarantee a happier me.

There is a world of difference between can/can’t and will/won’t. That distinction is critical.

anxiety, depression, Motivation

Breathe

Sometimes my body forgets how to breathe. I don’t know why, but it does. It’s random. I will be going about my business and suddenly I can’t breathe. I don’t mean an asthma attack situation, I just can’t expand my lungs to take in a breath. My chest gets tighter as the seconds go by and a panic will start in the corner of my brain. Luckily, like a swimmer breaching the surface of a cool ocean, my lungs expand and I intake a huge breath.

I assume this has something to do with my depression or anxiety. I mean, it has to, right? I take my pills throughout the day to avoid the majority of my issues. My life is better than it has been thanks to those pills. I just… feel like something has to give.

There are side effects that I have from the medications, but they are far less damaging than the underlying issue. I wonder, though, if I can do more. There is an old phrase that says something like “Go big or go home”. I could go big and try the TMS option, but do I need to? Are the risks worth the potential reward?

I hope that my breathing keeps on going for a long time. I sometimes worry that worrying over the little things will lead me to do something crazy. Other times I worry that I am too scared to do what needs to be done. And yet, another part just likes to float along on the mimosa train, bouncing between television that I listen to, but don’t really watch, and the games on my phone.

Pieces and parts. Muscles and breathing. Mind and…

anxiety, depression, emotions

Abused

Abuse comes in many forms. Sometimes you don’t know you are being abused until much later or until someone tells you.

I recently completed a project for my new boss. I sent her an email to let her know it was finished (Covid-19 days). She sent a response that I took to mean that I completely messed up the project. I was frantic and stressed. I looked at her instructions and I look at my results and I didn’t understand. Where did I go wrong?

A few minutes later she walked by and told me how great it is to have me on her staff; how much she appreciates the work I do. I was confused again. I read her instructions again and looked over my work. Then I read her email again. And again. And again. She wasn’t criticizing me. She was expanding on a question I had. The judgement was all in my head.

Sometimes abuse leaves scars. Even when we don’t know we are being abused. Even when we can’t admit we were being abused.

I love my new environment, but I often feel like Cinderella at her home trying to be as good as her step sisters. She will never live up to that because the mental and emotional abuse she has endured has told her that the step sisters are a goal to be. In reality, Cinderella is better off without them. She’s better off once she understands that life was abusive.

I’m better off, but I still have flashbacks.

depression, emotions, Motivation, Song Lyrics

MindSong

I need a song to distract my mind. It’s been awful lately.

Better Be Good to Me

by the goddess, Tina Turner

A prisoner of your love
Entangled in your web
Hot whispers in the night
I’m captured by your spell
Oh yes I’m touched by this show of emotion
Should I be fractured by your lack of devotion
Should I, should I?

You better be good to me
That’s how it’s gotta be now
Cause I don’t have no use
For what you loosely call the truth
You better be good to me

I think it’s also right
That we don’t need to fight
We stand face to face
And you present your case
And I know you keep telling me that you love me
And I really do want to believe
But did you think I’d just accept you in blind faith
Oh sure babe, anything to please you

You better be good to me
That’s how it’s gotta be now
Cause I don’t have the time
For your over loaded lines
You better be good to me

And I really don’t see why it’s so hard to be good to me
And I don’t understand what’s your plan that you can’t be good to me
What I can’t feel I surely cannot see, why can’t you be good to me
And if it’s not real I do not wish to see, why can’t you be good to me

depression, emotions, Motivation

Crying

My brain is being awful today. It won’t let up. It won’t stop attacking. I’m frustrated and now I’m in my cubicle crying.

It’s not a full on bawling, mascara running kind of cry. It’s more like a silent, avoiding a serial killer and staying quiet, kind of cry.

I know I can go home, but my brain tells me that I’m a failure if I do. There are so many people that would love to have the option to be working right now, to get out of the house. My brain tells me that this emotional state is my own making and I need to suffer.

I don’t have a fun song in my head today. I need one, though. I need something to loop constantly to distract me. I guess I’ll search for fun songs for pandemics or something.

Anyway, I’m having a rough day, but depression lies. I know that in my heart. I know that in my bones. I just wish I could remember it right now. Depression lies and I’m hanging tough.

Uncategorized

Armor

I’m starting to see cracks in my armor. When this pandemic started, I was more than happy to stay home. For months I have been going to work and staying home with very little contact with others.

Recently I have noticed that it’s getting harder to leave the house. It’s harder to plan outings again. I spent years breaking out of this type of confinement. Now it seems I’m heading back.

I’m also drinking more. I’m watching the levels of my bottles go down quickly. I’m drinking during the week when I work from home the next day.

My armor is cracking and I’m not sure what to do. I can’t go back to being that person that barely functions. I don’t want to go back to daily anxiety or panic attacks. I don’t want to go back to having a plan in place for a quick escape, knowing my brain will forcing me to flee.

I need to start pushing myself again. It’s rough, but I need it. I need to force myself to go outside and wander. I need to go to a store. I need to fix my armor before it fails me completely.

anxiety, depression, emotions

Rise-up

I’m an empath. I try to feel the world from the perspective of other people. I try to view the world as they would. This doesn’t always work. While my experiences may be similar or slightly in the same realm of reality, it isn’t always the same. This is dangerous because more often than not I can get close to understanding.

When I’m not close, however, I am a world away from the other person’s experience. It’s hard to understand and empathize with someone when you live in different worlds.

My heart is pure as the sex driven snow. My natural instinct is to understand and empathize with you. Just know that I am not always close or on the same path

Just know, that when you are close to me, I will rise up. I’ll try to understand. I’ll light the fireworks for the world to see. I’ll move mountains. But I may not always be right.