Posted in adventure, aging, fitness, Goals, health, Life, random, Weight Loss, women

The Next 6 Months

So, it happened. I turned 44. So far, all I’ve done since I’ve been double 4’s is sleep and eat. I mean…I’ve been eating A LOT. And yesterday, I took three naps before I went to bed. That’s crazy. In between, when I was awake, I was pretty much eating. I haven’t had a day like yesterday in a very, very long time. All I can think is that I must’ve needed it.

But, as I was lying in bed last night (or maybe it was yesterday? I don’t know, it all kind of runs together) I had the distinct feeling that I was ready to start being healthier again. For the past five months…mmm…maybe longer, I have just not made a concentrated effort to care for my body. I haven’t been consistently doing…anything. I honestly don’t remember the last time I was consistent with my physical health, if EVER. And I mean, really, really putting in the effort. I haven’t wanted to do any of that stuff recently, and that’s fine. But I think I do now.

I was just wondering, though…what would change if I really tried for, say, six months? How different would my body look, how different would I feel, if I dedicated myself to my diet and exercise for that length of time?

Right now, I’m still mulling it over. I’m trying to figure out what that would mean, exactly, and how to get started. But I think I’m going to do it. So stay with me. Shit’s about to get weird.

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Posted in adventure, aging, fun, funny, health, humor, Life, Musings, People, random, women

I Am Going To Get Old

I mean, not to jinx myself or anything, but…it kind of looks that way. I’m not one of those people who never thought they’d make it to 30, as I’ve heard So. Many. People. Announce. Nope, although perhaps, considering my lifestyle over the years, that should have been more of a concern of mine. I took for granted that I would make it to 30, and 40, and onward, I guess…but I think I thought I would just feel young forever.

Not so much. As my 44th birthday approaches in just a few days, I gotta tell you…shit is catching up to me. I wake up in the morning, and it seems that just the simple act of sleeping now causes my body such distress. I lurch upward like Frankenstein after he’s been electrified into life, making the same moaning and groaning sounds. I set my feet on the floor with great care, never sure exactly how bad which things will hurt. This morning, for instance, my lower back feels as if I spent the whole day yesterday lifting heavy things the wrong way, except I didn’t. All I did was go to bed last night, sleep, and wake up.

For that matter, just sitting in the same position for too long can now cause pain. What the hell is that about? Yesterday, I was lounging on the couch with my knee bent for like five minutes too long, apparently, and when I went to shift around, it hurt! I had to do it slowly to keep the agony at bay. What is that? Is it natures way of telling me I need to move more? Because I really don’t want to, but if I must, I suppose I can make it happen. Grudgingly.

I recently spent upwards of a hundred bucks on a cream that would purportedly “firm” the “crepey” skin of my neck. In other words, I’m trying to diminish the signs of old lady neck. I think it might be working, a little, but let me tell you something- this shit smells like something you would use to lubricate a diesel engine. I am not joking when I tell you that the older you get, the more…intense the scents of your skincare regimen become. When I was in my 20’s, everything smelled like “Fresh Orange Bursts!” or “Grapefruit Sorbet!” or some such shit. We then moved on to “Clean scents” that smelled mildly floral or…I don’t know, the way you remember your mom smelling, I guess. That was fine. At my age? They don’t even bother trying to mask the chemical aroma of the heavy-duty crap that’s trying to salvage the very flesh of your face. I literally have a tube of Retinol cream that’s called- and I am not making this up- “Help Me!”. Its job is to burn the top layer of my face off every night because my skin is so old it has now forgotten how to regenerate itself. And that’s just one of FOUR things I slather on my face and neck every night.

Gravity is working overtime on every part of my body, which is fine on the parts of me that I am not showing the world- I mean, that’s what bras are for, right? But the only face bra I know of is plastic surgery, and that’s not happening. Also, my arms…oh, man, my arms. I love, love, love sleeveless blouses, but lately I’m not pulling them off like I used to.  And I know, I KNOW- if I could just find it within me to get back on my gym routine, this is a problem that would be easily remedied, but…this is my griping post, so get out of my face with your helpful suggestions. I am not in the mood.

Everywhere I go, I see old people. I mean, I work at a hospital, and I live in a town where the older population is astronomically higher than average, but Jesus. I see these elderly people, trudging down the street, clutching canes and moving so slow, and it just…it freaks me out! I mean, best case scenario, I get old. That’s the WIN. My options are- 1.) Die right now, which would be tragic, because I’m still technically young by death’s standards, or 2.) Get really old and slow and sad and grouchy because everything is hard, including breathing. Ugh, I don’t even know why I am thinking about it!

Every day of my life, I read peoples medical records- it’s okay, that’s what I do for a living. But I’ve come to realize that I am incredibly healthy. I don’t take any medications for anything, my blood pressure is perfect, my cholesterol is normal. My weight is a bit of a problem, but not by medical standards, just by mine, personally. This would be great if I had lived a mild type of life and took generally good care of myself over the years. It’s a fucking miracle if you consider that I spent a great portion of my life doing things that might have looked, to a moderately intelligent bystander, as if I were actively trying to kill myself. Not even slowly kill myself, but like, soon. Like, tomorrow maybe.

So, I’ve got it pretty good. I think, with a few small tweaks, I could probably sail through the rest of my 40’s with aplomb, and make it look good. But, you know, it’s going to require a bit more effort on my part than it did in my 30’s, that’s all. And a few more tubs of diesel lubricant neck cream. And maybe a new mattress, because the one I have now is going to put me in a wheel chair, I’m not kidding. Perhaps a few more glasses of water, and maybe a little more time exercising.

I’ll get started right after I take a tiny little nap. Or maybe tomorrow. Hahaha.

 

 

Posted in adventure, anxiety, health, inner peace, Life, meditation, Mental Health, mental illness, Musings, People, random

40 Minutes a Pin Cushion

pin cushion

I have thought a lot about trying acupuncture, but it’s always been one of those fleeting thoughts where I don’t remember later to follow through. Well, last week, I was sitting here working and feeling pretty fed up with the worry and anxiety nipping at me incessantly. I googled “Does acupuncture work for anxiety?” And spent a few minutes reading several different articles. The basic consensus seemed to be, especially in the very scientific articles- “Yes, it seems to work. We can’t really figure out why, but it does.” Which I found both amusing and encouraging. I figured I really had nothing to lose by giving it a shot (oh my God, no pun intended) and I turned to googling local acupuncturists with good reviews.

I settled on one that not only had good reviews but a cool name- Rikke Blessing. I mean, how could you go wrong with a name like Blessing?! I called, left a message explaining my situation, noting that I’d read through her reviews and saw that most of hers were related to helping people with fertility. I emphasized that I was most DEFINITELY NOT interested in getting pregnant, but could she do anything about my anxiety? Please?

She called back right away, and explained that acupuncture was very good for anxiety, and that she could for sure help me. I was very excited. The things I’d read online were extremely promising, and as you well know, I’ve been pretty desperate to get on with my life. So we made an appointment, and yesterday, I showed up, not really knowing what to expect other than some needles getting jabbed into me here and there.

We talked for a while first, and I asked questions about why she believed acupuncture worked. To my surprise, she didn’t mention much about blocked energy-maybe that would freak some people out? Not me, but there was no way she could know that. Instead she talked about nerves and dopamine and neural pathways and hormonal imbalance and perimenopause. She also asked to look at my tongue. I wasn’t prepared for that. Hahaha. Oh, and she recommended that I consider giving up coffee. I told her I’d think about it. I’m thinking about it right now, as I sip my coffee. I mean…coffee is the only thing I have left. I might cut back. But giving it up completely for 21 days? That seems so…incredibly horrible.

Finally, it was time. I hopped on the table, minus my shoes and socks (note: if you decide to try acupuncture, maybe shave your legs and trim your toenails. If this sort of private failing makes you uncomfortable. I’m way overdue for a pedicure, and had a days worth of stubble on my legs.). She swiped me here and there with alcohol, then, just like that, the needles went in. Now, I am not someone with any sort of fear of needles, so I was never worried about this part. But even if you are, I can promise you that these needles are so tiny and flexible, you literally feel nothing. The only one I felt was the one on my forehead- the third eye, she called it. Apart from that, I honestly couldn’t even tell that I was being stuck.

The only part of the whole experience that I struggled with was the length of time I had to lay still. Now that I know I will be there for a good forty minutes, I will be prepared. There was beautiful music playing (Liquid Mind, if you want to look it up) and a little ocean wave sound machine off to my left, and if I’d been on my stomach, I might have dozed off. But, me being me, about 20 minutes in, I started to wish my phone was nearby, just so I could make sure that no one needed me for anything. Like, what if there were an emergency? My ringer was off. Would I be able to hear it buzzing with all this music on? So then I decided to check my watch to see what time it was, except that when I did, I knocked the dixie cups that were covering the needles in my stomach off, which meant I couldn’t put the blanket back over me…sigh. I think I probably need more than one session. I got the cups back on the needles, re-covered myself, and decided that, just for this one time, maybe the world would keep turning without my attention. I closed my eyes, and tried to relax.

Now here comes the weird part- I felt the difference immediately upon leaving the office. I was as calm last night as I would have been after a massage. It was absolutely comparable to that feeling, or the feeling you get after a good workout, once you calm back down. Or even a really good session of meditation. I felt very, very able to keep myself from becoming irritated, which is a huge part of what anxiety looks like coming out of me- very quick to snap, very quick to lose patience. I helped Camryn with her homework last night without once losing my cool- and if you could see the one man drama show that comes out of her during homework, you would understand why this is impressive. Four pages of homework, and I never once raised my voice. I did have to take away all devices for the evening, but I did it calmly and without malice. It was just- “sorry, no devices tonight. We’ll try again tomorrow”. Honestly, I’ve never been so proud of myself after homework, and that is saying a lot. Oh, and I slept like the dead last night, too. I didn’t wake up once in the night.

I am 100% looking forward to going back. I don’t have any idea whether it is working because it really works, or if I only think it works because I want it to so badly- but at the end of the day, does it even matter? As long as I feel better, and I really, really do…who cares? I’ll be a pin cushion any day of the week if it helps me. Only next time, I think I’ll just make sure my phone is within reach. Just in case of an emergency. 🙂

Posted in anxiety, escape, happiness, health, inner peace, Life, Mental Health, mental illness, Musings, People, random

Powering Up

bed

Yesterday started off like most days do for me- up at an insanely early hour, I sat down here at my computer and waited for my coffee to finish brewing while I read some blogs, and indulged in my latest utter waste of time- slot machine games on my phone. I don’t know what in the world it is about fake slot machines that are so much fun, but they really are. I mean, it’s the ultimate time suck, right? No skill required, no real money is won, but…whatever the attraction is, it’s really caught me this past week.

Anyway, I sat here, drinking my coffee, winning fake money, then wrote for a little while on my novel. The sun had started to come up, and…two coffees in, I decided to head back to bed for a while. Cam had stayed an extra night at her dad’s. The house was a mess, there were things to do, but…I just felt like laying down. So I did. I got back in bed, and I slept for an hour or so. Around 7:30, I sent a text to my ex saying I would pick Cam up for our Sunday beach walk at nine. He replied “It’s raining, you know.” Um, no, I didn’t know. I hadn’t opened my blinds or looked outside yet. Hmm. “Do you just want to bring her home, then, when you guys are up?” I asked. “Yes,” he replied, “I’ll be there in about an hour.” I unlocked the front door so that they could get in, and I went back to sleep.

Somewhere in there I watched a few shows on Hulu, then slept some more. Devon, true to his nature, was very, very late. For once in my life I wasn’t bothered- I was busy slipping in and out of dreams. By noon, I knew exactly what kind of day this was going to be- and ultra-lazy-not-getting-out-of-bed-day. Every once in a while, I have a day like this. Usually, I fight it. I make myself sit up, and I procrastinate and make mental plans that my body cannot seem to execute, and it’s generally not a lot of fun. Yesterday, I just kind of rolled with it. I ate some very bad things- as a matter of fact, I broke my “No Fast Food” rule yesterday, indulging in McDonald’s for the first time this year. Man, was that disappointing. Yuck. After going without for so long, it didn’t taste like a treat at all- it tasted like…well, honestly, it tasted like garbage. Which is basically what it is, so I don’t know why I was surprised.

I did not shower yesterday. I did not change my clothes. I did not look in a mirror, or pick up one item off the floor and put it back where it goes. I didn’t do laundry or dishes or one productive thing. And you know what? I. Don’t. Care.

Last Wednesday night, I went to the movies with Cam and a couple of other people (one adult, one child.) Thursday, I visited with my friend Donna. Friday night, I had therapy and my writer’s group meeting directly afterwards. Saturday, I had a date with a guy I’d never met in real life before, right after a memorial service for another friend of mine who left this world far too early. That might be an average week for some people, but for me…for ME, that is a LOT of activity. Pair all of that with the gnawing anxiety I’ve been dealing with, and it’s no wonder I needed a day of pure laziness.

That’s another thing worth mentioning. I didn’t have a single moment of anxiety yesterday. Not so much as one. And when the anxiety leaves, there is some exhaustion. All that adrenaline leaves the building, and a girl gets tired. I’m not just making that up, either. I’ve done my homework.

So, yes- it’s Monday morning, and I’m starting my week with a messy house and hair that is currently in one big knot over my right ear. I need a shower, we are out of dog food, and I’m hoping I can scrape together at least one clean outfit for Cam to wear to school today.

But you know what? I feel ready to face this week. I feel rested and more calm than I have in a while. I feel like I probably could have at least stretched yesterday- my back kind of hurts, but…eh, so what? I wasn’t being lazy. I was powering up. And I feel pretty good this morning. Which is nice.

Happy Monday!

 

Posted in anxiety, Depression, family, health, kids, Life, Mental Health, mental illness, motherhood, parenting, People, random, women

Anxiety is Boring

Well, it makes me boring, anyway. Trying to figure out something to write about has been damn near impossible…hence, my longer-than-normal absence from my trusty old blog.

I don’t know what to think, you guys. None of my tricks are working. Now, don’t get me wrong- I have moments every single day where I feel just fine. But when you think about that, it doesn’t seem like a very good deal, does it? I have MOMENTS when I feel okay? As opposed to “normally, I feel fine, but sometimes I do get anxious”. Yeah, basically, I am feeling anxious more than I’m feeling okay, and that is not normal for me. I don’t feel normal. I feel pretty awful, honestly.

It got me thinking about a lot of you bloggers that I follow who struggle with mental illness daily and keep on writing. I have such a huge amount of respect for that, now. Because when you are feeling the opposite of okay, when the thing you are struggling with is the very thing you are thinking with…it is HARD. Much the way chronic pain just wears you down, chronic mental anguish is exhausting. And it’s so weird- even when I am feeling so-so, I’m tensed and ready for the next wave of bullshit to knock my feet out from under me.

I was doing better- as a matter of fact, I had just bravely proclaimed to myself that I was DONE with this anxiety. I yelled at it, out loud, in the shower one morning- had a firm conversation with my anxiety that I was tougher and braver and smarter than it was, and that I would not be falling for its lies any longer. I went on and had a brilliant day, and I thought “Of COURSE I can do this! What was I thinking? I just needed to make up my mind!”

And then Cam came home from school that very afternoon, and she went directly to bed and fell asleep, and…kids get sick, right? But my anxiety saw an opening, and it went in full force. To be honest with you, my hands are shaking right now, and that was Thursday that it happened. She had a slight temperature, and she’s been under the weather since then- not eating much, etc. Last night her ear hurt. Her fever is gone. She is getting better, not worse, but my anxious, fucked-up brain cannot be reasoned with. My logical mind knows that this is cold and flu season. That kids are exposed to every kind of virus and bacteria and nastiness you can think of on a daily basis at school. But my anxious mind flies straight to the worst of the worst. It’s cancer. It’s meningitis. It’s…you fill in the blanks with whatever your worst fear is. It’s all so far-fetched, yet I feel it in my sick little soul.

Sigh…what can I do, though? The only thing I can think of to do is to keep on working through it. Keep on going to therapy and figuring out ways to not let my fear rule my life, or, even worse, freak out my children. It’s hard. I check on her too much. I probably took her temperature about seven times on Friday. And it’s so funny to me- in many ways, I am one of the strongest people. I have lived through so much and come out the other side relatively unscathed. I don’t know why this is happening to me right now, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

But I can promise you this- I will keep trying to figure it out. I will keep working to resolve this knot in my gut, and this mess in my head. I don’t know what other option I have. But any advice you have would be greatly appreciated. 🙂

Posted in anxiety, health, Life, meditation, Mental Health, mental illness, mindfulness, Musings, People, women

Not Myself

frustration

It has now been exactly one week since my massive panic attack, and I am still not myself.

I am okay, I guess…but I wake up every morning to a racing heart, to a stomach that is clenched as if waiting for bad news, or a swift punch.

This is NOT ME. This is not the way I wake up, the way I am. I hate it and I don’t know what to do to make it stop. I’m doing all the things I normally do that have helped me before- rest and meditation, exercise and prayer. Nothing seems to keep the moments of pure anxiety away.

It is very hard to pretend to be okay when you are anything but okay. But when you are a mom, it is important to at least try. The thing is, when I am very anxious, I am concentrating so hard on just trying not to let things spin out of control that I have little room for anything else. My patience is worn so thin. This is not the way I want to be living my life.

And I can’t help but think…what is this about? First, a panic attack at the end of December, then another one at the beginning of February. Before that, years and years and years since the last one. What is trying to come up? What is it that is asking to be healed? What am I missing?

Crazy to think that my own mind might be hiding something from me, or that my own consciousness is choosing not to understand something, but I can’t help but wonder- is this really just a fluke, or is this an opportunity for resolution? Resolution of some pain or some wound that I am just not seeing? I don’t know. Maybe I’m just bat shit crazy, but I’d like to believe that there is a reason. I’d like very much to know what that reason is.

Today, I am just going to try to be patient and loving with myself, and with others. I am going to remember that I can survive my feelings, even when it doesn’t seem like I can. I have a perfect record so far of withstanding every single one of them.  I am going to take my dog for a walk, and if the walk doesn’t feel like enough, then I will run. I will run until all this nervous energy dissipates, and if it comes back, I will find another way to discharge it. I will tend to myself. I will continue to work through this. I bet there will even be moments today when I am happy, as there have been every other day.

But I am still not at all myself. And I really want to be again.

Posted in anxiety, health, Life, Mental Health, mental illness, motherhood, parenting, People

A Different Kind of Storm

Another storm came the evening before last, only this time, it wasn’t happening outside of my house, in the sky.

This time, the storm popped up out of nowhere, inside of me, in my head.

I had another panic attack. Another really, really bad panic attack. Over 24 hours later and I am still not myself. My stomach is in knots and I feel afraid and shaky, embarrassed and ashamed of my uncontrollable mind. I had to call off work yesterday because I hadn’t slept at all the night before, and to be honest, I still have barely eaten since this all started.

I am doing everything right. I have been exercising every single day, eating healthy, praying, meditating, working hard and treating myself well. To know that I can go from the very top of my game to an utter shaking mess in a matter of one single, illogical, triggering thought…well…that is terrifying. I don’t know any other way to look at it.

I remembered everything my therapist told me the last time this happened. I told myself all the things I knew, all the logic and facts and practical wisdom I had- I threw all of it at this monster, but it pinged off his skin like nothing and continued to advance. When I am in that state, there is no safe place I can go, no way to escape, because the feeling is inside of me. You cannot outrun yourself.

I am so upset with myself for things that happened during this episode that I almost wasn’t going to write about it. I don’t want to tell the truth. I am ashamed of it. But I will tell you this- my panic started over a very minor injury that happened, not to me, but to my daughter. It should have been something we put a band-aid on and forgot about. Instead, we made two trips to the ER and didn’t make it home until 5 in the morning. The doctors were kind to me- they could see that I was not okay. But the idea that my panic can spill out onto someone else that way, that frightens me. I didn’t reach out to anyone, didn’t pick up the phone and call a friend, give them the chance to talk me down. I put my poor kid through so much because of MY fear, and that fear was so BIG, I couldn’t help it. I literally couldn’t help it.

And now the question is- how long until it happens again? Because once is an anomaly, once is…just a weird glitch that happened, and whatever. But this is twice now since December and I can’t imagine going through this again. Or regularly. I can deal with, I guess, my average daily anxiety. But this panic- no. I can’t. I won’t. I will find a way to fix it. If I have to just steam-roll it with pure stubbornness, I will.

But today, I am just so tired. I don’t want to feel like this ever again.