"Be who you are. You are not everyone's cup of tea and that is OK."

"Be who you are. You are not everyone's cup of tea and that is OK."

For real????  That sentence. That one up there in bold. The one I retyped.  ^^^^ That is one of the hardest things to accept if you suffer from Anxiety.  Saying that it is okay for people to not like you, what is that all about??  I mean, obviously someone not liking you is bad. Isn't it? Anxiety paints my world in vibrant blacks and whites. Liked = white = good.  Not liked = black = bad. 

I don't even know if it is possible for me to learn that ^^^ especially because I don't know if I am my own cup of tea. One of the things I do know about myself is that I am completely self-aware of all of my flaws. Anxiety told me. Anxiety has a list and because Anxiety is a squatter in my brain, I have the list. It's pinned on the wall of my cerebral cortex or something, like a poster from my favorite band on my tween bedroom wall. 

Anxiety tells me that my flaws are greater than my gifts. Even more clever than that, Anxiety tells me how my gifts can be considered flaws.  Anxiety is a master mind of turning a positive into a negative.  Oh how I wish I could use my mental powers for good instead of evil.  Baby steps.

Let's rephrase:

Be who you are.  Become your own cup of tea, then you will be OK.

Notes from a Therapist

I have a friend I don't get to ever see. She lives in San Jose, California. She is one of my idols. I am sure she has no clue as to how much I adore her.  She has a soul that will always make her a special, enduring friend in my heart. She is good. She is sunshine. I love her dearly and aspire to be like her.  Her mom says she has been like that since she was little, which makes me think about the "nurture or nature" phenomenon.  Maybe we are all predisposed as to who we are, which in her case is a ray of sunshine, and in my case is chattering teeth.

Anyway, because of the Wonderful World of Facebook, I found out she has started blogging again. Her blog has always been one of my favorites and I am going to add it to the sidebar for those who need some Vitamin D.  It's called "The Gladdest Thing Under the Sun," named after her favorite poem.  Today's post is entitled "Boring Things My Therapist Has Said To Me."  I was like, WHAT?! TJ needs a therapist? That shit's whack.  But then I became curious, what kind of advice does someone like TJ need?  Here is her list.

TJ's THERAPIST SAYS

1.  Go outside for a few minutes each day.

2.  Remember what worked before.  Do that again.

3.  Lower your expectations for yourself.

4.  Leave some things un-done now and then.

5.  Take a walk whenever you can.

6.  Create something to look forward to.

7.  When you're anxious something bad will happen, tell yourself, "That's highly unlikely."

8.  Get some exercise.

9.  Put alone time on your calendar.

10.  Find a tiny step to take, and take it.

11. There are tiny pieces of your day that you have some control over.  Make them work for you.

AND here is a picture of her actual list from her iPhone. It is slightly different.



The hell? TJ's list mentions Anxiety. The hell you say. I read her list thinking that it would be more like you know, #1 or #8, but never anything related to anxiety.

I have to say, I have my own list that I keep in my iPhone.  Shall we look?

THINGS WOODA'S THERAPIST SAYS

1. Accept that you will always have emotions and you won't keep them in a bubble. It is OK when they spill out sometimes. You are not a robot.
2. Actively evaluate where are your thoughts and feelings, and where are my behaviors? Emotional v. Rational.
3. Make lists.  In other words, get the chaos out of your head and put it on paper where you can check things off and see accomplishments.
4. Be aware of All or Nothing thinking. Look for options in the middle.
5. You can only control your 50% in life and in situations.  Do what you can, and put the uncontrollable out of your mind. 
6. You should not worry about how your feelings can make others feel.  That is not on me.  My feelings cannot invade someone else's space unless THEY let them. (example: I can share with my husband and shouldn't always worry that I am bringing him down just because I am down.)
7. Ask yourself, do you want to be content, or do you want to be happy?  Don't fear change. 
8. Baby steps. 

I am stealing from TJ's phone list and adding #9.

9.  SO much of anxiety is not having control over our lives, but we have control over pieces of it each day.

The pieces. I think those are what I should focus on right now. Because if I look at the days they are long. So are the hours. And, of course, the minutes.  A friend of mine suggested a book for me yesterday, Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankle, Holocaust survivor. I find that I learn more from others than from myself. Viktor seems like a good candidate to teach me a lesson about worry and anxiety.  From the Amazon write-up, "Frankl argues that we cannot avoid suffering but we can choose how to cope with it, find meaning in it, and move forward with renewed purpose."

Anxiety is suffering. Anxiety is pain. Anxiety is a thief who steals away your ability to cope and deal with even the minutia of life.  Lists from therapists and words of wisdom are our weapons to use in the battle.  Me v. My Brain, as always.  Hopefully my stockpile of ammunition will eventually outweigh my disease.  I am, as always, a work in progress.

Who am I?

No Small Talk. Ever.

I went to a funeral recently. It was a low attendance funeral. Funerals suck by default, but the actual service for this one was pleasant, and the eulogies were sweet and poignant. It's the aftermath that got me. Few people - people I love and normally would cut up with- were there. However, because we were at a funeral, the social norms are different than our normal everyday setting. I couldn't joke or kid. Somber talk only because that is what is appropriate. I can't do it. I had nothing to say. I left all heightened and needing a Valium. I couldn't come down from my amped up state. It sucked. It ruined my day.

Today I passed someone I really like in the hallway. He asked me how I am doing. I said fine. My face said not fine. He tilted his head in inquiry. Okay, so I am not fine, but I cannot tell you all of the reasons that I am not fine. Because I tell too many people. I get verbal diarrhea when I start in on why I am not fine. You will know everything about me and it will end in me feeling sorry for myself because I cannot get out of this job and into a new one because I am not good enough and made poor life decisions.  Damn you, small talk!

I am convinced that my job is doing me in emotionally. Too much down time. Too much idleness. Too much self-reflection. I pray that God will put me on a different path soon. If I weren't a working mother who needs to pay the rent and provide insurance I would walk out the door today. Rational thought tells me to work, "fuck that get money" and pay for your insurance, fool. Emotional thought says walk out today, go home and clean your house and raise your kids and find your path.  Of course, I cannot ever figure out if leaving is really what is best for me mentally or if it is a safety behavior. My therapist says if it makes you feel good it is probably a safety behavior. Ugh.

I feel like all of my thoughts are scattered today. If you are still reading this, thanks. You might be as desperate as I am. We should be friends, or not, since we would only feed each other's anxiety.  Side note: I used to think that we needed Anxiety support groups until I realized we would stand up and say all of our what-ifs, and then everybody else in the room could just add to those so we would descend down the wormhole more rapidly as a group than in our own in isolation. To my fellow sufferers I say, fight the good fight, it's lonely out here on the field. But this battle, we have to win this one on our own. 

BUT I AM CRAZY!

Accurate meme is accurate.

Sometimes I cannot tell if I am full of Anxiety or on the cusp of Depression.  It's a thin line to toe.  And as someone who suffers from Anxiety, that one thought starts the hamster wheel. Am I depressed or am I not depressed? Is it Anxiety or is not Anxiety? Am I crazy? Well duh. Of course I am. I'm crazy.  I need to be hospitalized. Why won't anyone see how crazy I am and put me in the hospital?

From Monkey Mind, pg. 174.  "No one with panic attacks and Anxiety has ever gone crazy. In fact, because you realized that you have panic attacks, this is just another indication that you are not going crazy. People that "go crazy" lose contact with reality.  Anxious people are too much in contact with reality.  Thus people with anxiety never go crazy." 

How unfair is that shit? It's like saying, "Well, I know that you are on the edge and you feel like you are on the edge and about to plummet to your death, but you are aware you are on the edge and don't want to jump so you won't jump.  You are safe. You just have to continue standing there with the fear in your heart like you are about to jump. Enjoy that weak feeling in your private area as you look down. Have fun with that." 

There are highs and lows with Anxiety. Sometimes I feel cured, and then I get slammed in the face. Like Anxiety is a Mack truck hitting me head on. I am in a big slump right now, hence the new blog and the consistent journal entries.  Artists are always more productive when manic. 

Anxiety inducing topics for the day:

1. Forgot to eat lunch with my mentor yesterday, going to make it up to her today which should decrease my anxiety bc a plan is in place, but I am still beating myself up for forgetting in the first place.

2. Double booked myself for a weekend in April with 2 things I really want to do. Hamster-wheeling between which to choose.

3. My job.

4. Boredom.

5. My weight.

6. Money.

7. They hate me. They don't like me. I am unlikable. 

What should I do with myself?

So I've been in the same job for almost 12 years. It stole the last of my 20's and my entire 30's. I'll be 40 in about 27 days.  I can't believe it. What I took as a foot-in-the-door job is still my job. I have various reasons I am still here.  1. It allowed me time to have 2 kids and the freedom to not take a job home with me. 2. It is safe. 3. I have good people here. 4. My parents taught me to be loyal to an employer and it will pay off, you will climb the ladder because people will see you as dependable with a good work ethic.  5. I didn't want to be seen as a job hopper.

I have to try and remember that although in hindsight these reasons look shoddy if you want to have a flourishing career and climb the professional ladder, I did what I thought was best for myself at the time.  However, that doesn't help me today when I am completely disenchanted with my day-to-day work life, and I have ample time to sit and contemplate all of the things I have done wrong career-wise, and how other will see this "career" path I have been on. Because it hasn't really been a path. It has been a holding pattern with pay and insurance.

Monkey Mind, pg. 152: "Idleness is as much Anxiety's plaything as the devil'.s" #truth.

As my years in my current position have increased, so has my down time. Am I just too efficient at what I do? Have I streamlined everything to the point that I made this idle time myself? Doesn't matter, really.  I am where I am. I am on the internet daily combing websites for job postings. Today I looked up "Best jobs for people with anxiety." Hey, it told me to become a writer and start with a blog.  I'm on it.

I really want to look into being a teacher because I love kids, and it might could happen through a program in my state that allows those with higher ed degrees to step into a classroom without a teaching certificate. I passed the middle school social science test required and have the appropriate degrees.  However, they have to be willing to take a risk on someone who has never been in a classroom.  I am praying someone will.

Idleness is killing me slowly but surely. I sit and think about all I have done wrong. What has led me to sit in this room with the walls closing in. I even hung a picture of Jigsaw from the Saw movies on my bulletin board in my office. Because that is how I feel. That I am going to have to cut off an arm or a leg to get out of this place.  Someone help me get out of this place. I NEED to keep my brain busy. I NEED some problems to solve or people to direct. I NEED to quit cycling in my mind all that I have done wrong and how I will never get out of this hole. I NEED emotional comforting, but somehow that never comes. It's like my brain NEEDS a hug, but that isn't physically possible.

For as many past appointments as I can remember, my therapists asks me, "So, how are you?" And my response is always, "Tired." Because I am so very, very tired of thinking and fighting with myself internally.  I want to quit work. I want to stay at home and clean my house, and enjoy each day by going outside and moving in life. I want to get out from behind a desk and LIVE.

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods

That quote haunts me day after day. I don't want to lie on my death bed thinking I have not lived. And yet, that is what I feel here every day. Sitting at this desk. Within these walls. Missing the days. The seasons. The life. A life. MY LIFE.

This is how it starts...

I recently read a book called Monkey Mind by Daniel Smith. My therapist gave it to me. You know, my anxiety therapist, who is supposed to help me learn to control my brain and slow it down from the hamster wheel that it is on. I'm a work in progress.  Anyway, MM inspired me to write about my own experiences with anxiety because as it turns out, I am not alone. My crazy thoughts are not even considered "crazy" and others share them. Wait. What? My abnormality is normal for an entire group of people?! You have got to be shitting me. I am not special, or rare in my insanity? Wait, you are telling me I am not even insane.  Unbelievable.

My name is Heather and I suffer from Generalized Anxiety Disorder, diagnosed in 2003. I'm greatful to have been suffering from something with an actual name for the past 13 years. It was sweet relief to give it a name all those years ago because that gave credibility to my sickness.  I was not making it up. I was really sick.  !!!!  It is real, and doctors now recognize it pretty frequently. In fact, as of the past few years I have actually gotten pissy because so many people claim to have anxiety. WTF?! THAT IS MY DISEASE. I REALLY HAVE IT. QUIT FAKING IT PEOPLE.  THEY ARE STEALING MY SICKNESS AND THEY DON'T REALLY HAVE IT NOW NOONE WILL BELIEVE I HAVE IT!  Another irrational thought brought on by emotional thinking.

See, that is what my therapist is teaching me, that people with anxiety are emotional thinkers. No one is 100% rational or emotional, but anxiety sufferers lie heavily on that emotional side. I mean, I feel like I am 95-99% emotional thinking perpetually. And it it's hard, you know. On the outside, I look normal. I look in the mirror and I see someone who looks like she has it all together, but on the inside, I am all disarray. And no one can see that, but I feel it, and then I start to think I am projecting it. Then everyone knows. They all know I am freaking out.  They KNOW.

So I am working on things. Learning to write things down. To try and drain my brain of all that it holds and make checklists and put things on paper or my iCalendar. Anything to take things out instead of holding them in. And a lot of times I have to take things out and analyze them.  Like my core beliefs about myself. They are all negative. So I have homework assignments like, answer these questions: where did this belief come from, what level of all or nothing thinking is it, and how is it conducive to anxiety's thought cycle and your own.

We- me and my therapist- talk about Anxiety like it is a person. A devil within my mind stirring up ugly and tumultuous thoughts and spinning them around in my brain like a category 5 tornado. An enemy that lives within your own mind that you have to learn to disarm. In essence: Brain v. Brain. It's tiring. It's exhausting. It's my life.

"This is how it starts…"
-Matty Healy, The 1975