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)

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

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.

anxiety, depression, emotions, Motivation

Dumb

I hate feeling dumb or stupid. I work hard to keep my brain sharp and to look for ways to increase my knowledge on subjects.

I didn’t go to college when I finished high school. My anxiety could not handle the move to a place where no one would know me. My depression could not deal with going into a classroom consistently from week to week while also working full time.

Not going to college has always left me with a tiny feeling of dumbness in the back of my head. In the darkest corners.

With my new job that I started in 2020, I have the opportunity to go to school. It’s completely online. The costs are covered with my union dues. It was a simple thing to say yes.

There have been a few courses, though, that have been really tough. And struggling in school is not something I did growing up. It was easy. School was simple. Now the struggle makes me feel stupid. Dumb even. It is hard.

Now, I know that I am not stupid or dumb. I do not need anyone to tell me that. My depression needs to hear it though and I grow tired of talking to my depression and explaining things. I am not asking you to say I’m smart or beautiful. I just want you to know why I am sometimes hard on myself and others for not knowing something.

anxiety, depression

Burnt

The past week was awful. MaDD (My name for MDD) just about did me in. MaDD attacked my brain like it was double overtime and the plates were loaded. Or some sports metaphor.

I knew instinctively that I would make it through the week, but there were days that my heart gave up and days that my mind gave up. I was tired but I couldn’t sleep. I was stressed. But mostly, MaDD was yelling louder than usual.

That can only mean one thing. I need to consider changing my medications again. That is never a fun process. I never know who I will be once the meds kick in. Each time I get set on a course of meds, my personality changes with it. Why, this one time, let’s just say that I lost a few friends.

And now I’m wondering if MaDD is good name for my MDD. That’s what my brain does when scary thoughts come up, line changing my meds. I get distracted by details.

This last week was darker than I have been through in quite a while. I almost think the old, pre-pandemic me is fighting with the new me and I’m stuck here in the middle.

anxiety, depression, Song Lyrics

Sides

When I am walking down the street and I hear people starting to laugh, I know that they are laughing at me. Is my hair wrong? Is my zipper undone? Do I look weird? Or was I singing to myself again.

When I meet people, I’m awkward. I want to be liked, but I’m a strange kind of different. I often feel that I need to be “that person” in order to fit in or be liked. Sometimes I feel like I’m too normal or whatnot. Let me tell you. It is stressful.

My name is currently Aleczander Lourd Maverick and I suffer with MDD. (That is not Mother Against Drunk Drivers for the record).

I’m talkin’ to myself in public, dodging glances on the train
And I know, I know they’ve all been talkin’ about me
I can hear them whisper, and it makes me think
There must be somethin’ wrong with me
Out of all the hours thinkin’, somehow I’ve lost my mind
But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell
I know, right now you can’t tell
But stay a while and maybe then you’ll see
A different side of me

anxiety, depression, emotions

AllApologies

As I am sure you know by now, I suffer from MDD. One of the many fun tricks of this is that I have a warped sense of the effects of my actions and interactions with other people. Whether this means I think a close friend hates me because of something I said or did, or I think the bartender wants to jump me in the alley, it causes an alternate universe in my mind.

When these things happen, I have an over-inflated idea of how this affects the other person. But to start, lets be honest. These things happen to me multiple times a day. Maybe I forgot your name. Maybe I asked you about something. Maybe I was rude. Maybe I was too nice. There are so many maybes here.

What I am trying to get at is that I am often feeling like I need to apologize. This need to apologize is most likely just in my head. In most cases, the other person does not remember the incident or has completely forgotten that. If you are dear to me, I may apologize weeks, months, or even years later. When that happens, please take the apology and forgive me if this isn’t an issue for you. If I’m apologizing, it’s obviously an issue for me and may have haunted my brain for months or longer.

I wish I was like you
Easily amused
Find my nest of salt
Everything is my fault
I’ll take all the blame
Aqua sea foam shame

I don’t like many people. If I like you enough to apologize for something that means absolutely nothing to you, take that as a compliment instead of making it into a mountain.

anxiety

Hands

Is it just me? When my anxiety is high, my hands seem to have an excess of energy. They want to flop about like a fish out of water. Whether it’s rubbing my hands together, snapping, or just random hand movements, I find it weird. Am I alone in this?

You will also notice this with my running my hand through my hair, but that can also be because my scalp itches. That is not as good of a sign than my rambling hands.

I often won’t notice my weird quirks until someone points them out to me. As it so happens, my husband loves to point out quirks and ask me why. Eh, I say. I didn’t notice.

anxiety, Sleep

Dreams

Sometimes my dreams cause a surge in my anxiety levels. When this happens, I wake up in a panic. Then I realize that I don’t know what I am panicking about so I start having a panic attack.

These are days that I rarely make it through without help. Sometimes it aligns with my days off so I can just have a mimosa or two. Nobody judges you for alcohol in the late morning if it’s mimosas.

Other days it doesn’t line up to my days off. These are the hard ones. I can’t exactly pop the bubbly at work. My antidepressants don’t take the edge off. I just run amok like a chicken with its head cutoff until I can get home and curl up in bed with a book.

I need to find something that takes away that edge that isn’t alcohol. My mind is too busy and too loud to meditate effectively.