Tag: Anxiety

Om. Om. O My!

I started meditation. But not guided meditation like before. The woman’s once soothing dulcet tones were starting to annoy me. So I decided to go the more Old School traditional. So I chant…….

Om Mani Padme Hum

Yes it feels silly some times but trying to remember the sounds takes a lot of my mental concentration. Each syllable has a meaning. For example Om means generosity or hum means wisdom. I say this to myself when I need to take a pause or when I have a pause and instead of doing I chant. I can’t say that it’s miraculously cured me, dang it, but I felt the hum of wisdom this morning while I was stuck in traffic already irritatingly late to work.

I guess what it basically boils down to is I’m scared. I’m scared that I won’t be able to handle the extra load of taking classes, that I’ll drive off the twisty-windy road and plummet to my death because my eye lids were too heavy to keep open during the coming and going to class. More likely than not it will prove too much for me and I’ll have to withdraw from class and take an F or incomplete and have to start all over again. Wisdom stepped in and calmed my mind and simply said:

“Not trying is guaranteed failure. Trying and failing is practice for the time you try and achieve.”

So I’m now trying to decide which is better. Going to a semester long class close to the ocean or two quarter classes close to home. I guess I need to keep Om Mani Padme Hum spinning along with my brain until something flys out at me.

What do you think I should do?

Wanting Vs. Doing Vs. Needing

I want……….

  • to go back to school to spiff up my phlebotomy credentials (long story)
  • to write at night and on weekends
  • to have a clean and neat room, with my bed made and laundry done
  • to go on hikes on weekends and maybe learn to Glamp from time to time
  • to make jewelry for gifts and for myself….maybe even to sell
  •  to keep working a full time job so I can have a full time pay

Vs.

I’m doing……….

  • 8hrs a day on a less than taxing job but still need to take a nap in my car
  • I’m registering for school but will have to do it in person instead of online, terrified I’ll sleep through it or fail
  • I clean my room by turning off the light and turning on the TV
  • I get out of bed late on weekends and then require a few naps to get through the day
  • The thought of pulling out and putting away all my jewelry making stuff is exhausting in itself
  • Honestly, I don’t know how I’ve been able to keep a full time job.

Okay, I’m tired right now. I really have no reason to be, other than I stayed up too late last night. But when I’m in these moods I wonder if I will ever be able to have a normal life, if I’ve ever had a normal life. My Mom is insistent that I just need to “push through” and “fight back” and basically “get over it” and I will be fine. Sometimes I think she’s right, very rarely, and I try and spin myself back out of control. I think I need a routine…a “doing” and slowly build from there. I keep changing this idea of what my day should look like beyond going to work, going home, going to bed, getting up and going to work, going home, going to bed.

Right now I’m thinking that Mediation is the direction I should be going in. Of course I can’t do that until I have a space cleaned in my room, which means I need to work in my room, which means I need to do my laundry and find a meditation pillow and make hand knotted-silk strung beads and a tassel for meditation……See how the wanting and the doing are always dancing?

I need to……….

  • JUST meditate

    • I don’t need a clean room to do it
    • I don’t need my laundry clean to do it
    • I don’t need a special pillow to do it
    • I don’t need specially strung beads to do it (yet, I want them because it means shopping and creating)

The only thing I need to do is make time. Or in my case take time.  And take comfort in the hope that the needful will allow for the mental space for doing the wanting.

The End is Nigh….or not.

The diaphanous veil between the living and the dead is getting thinner.  I can feel my father closer, my brother.  They are waiting.  I can’t really say this to my family because we’ve been saying “Mom won’t make the next XYZ” for the last 24 years. It’s gotten to the point where we won’t believe it until we see it.  And who knows how long a person can.

I want her to have a good end of life, but I don’t know how to bring that about.  She has a DNR, C. will make the final judgment if we need to turn off her machines and pacemaker. (there will be mighty discussions between the three of us girls before hand, it’s not just hers alone)  Her cremation is paid for, our plan to have a boat take us out to the Golden Gate Bridge or beyond to allow her to travel the way she never could in mortality.   I guess now it’s just a matter of all the family to make amends with their own soul and forgive grandma/great grandma and let her go being loved.  She wasn’t trying to hurt us, not consciously anyway.  She wanted what was best for us, even if what she wanted was skewed towards what she needed more, but truly is that her fault?  She relied on the way she was raised, and the pain she experienced on our side of the conversation must have been worse as she believes she wasn’t loved or wanted.  Mom wanted us, she loved us to the best of her ability and with the few tools she was given, and isn’t that all what we can do?  Holding someone to a standard you hold yourself to is just as unfair, lacking compassion and sincerely extremely selfish to the point of narcissism.  True narcissism isn’t something you choose, it’s not like fat where you can go on a diet and emerge a shadow of what you used to be….Narcissists don’t believe the need help or to change, the rest of the world should.  I wish I could take this understanding, acceptance and love and share this enlightenment I’ve been given to my family but I can’t, and even if I can will they have the frame of reference of the months past to understand it with.  Or the desire to truly forgive her and let her go?
The depression and the tentacle like grip the other accessory ailments has robbed me of the ability to feel a lot of feelings.  Well all feelings except anger.  With the containment and proper placement of that merciless flame  the other emotions are coming to the surface and I can say something I never thought I would be able to say.  I love my mother.  I started this journey hating her and silently planning her funeral like a mother plans her daughters wedding.  My biggest fear was that I would hum “Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead” in my pew at her funeral, now I’m not afraid to loose her, or my reaction to it, but mostly that I will be unable to take care of myself without her to remind me to eat, to wake me up when I fall asleep on the couch, to guilt me into cleaning up the house. (I know, I’m a grown up, for heaven sakes, I should be be doing that for myself already).
This feeling of love for my mother and the spiritual lifting I’ve had over the last several weeks makes me wonder if that’s why I am able to feel the veil so close.  The only thing you really take with you is your knowledge and your love.  Love you give is the silken strands that weave your body for the next life and the love you receive is the decoration.  Or so is my belief.
(I’m not saying my Mom is in the throws of dying, she’s not.  I do know her body is starting to give up and betray her in ways she never thought it could.  I’m just saying there are people waiting for her and I can feel their presence.  It could happen today (better not it’s my birthday and her sister already died on my birthday) or it could happen next week/month/year/decade etc.  My nephew J has a saying “At the end of time there will be Dick Clark (rip), Grandma and cockroaches.”  There are days when I look into her eyes and see the steel will to live and I actually start to believe that he isn’t far from wrong.)

The Waiting Is The Hard Part

I have a vacation coming up.  Not really a vacation the way you think of it.  Both of my jobs don’t have any kind of paid time off per se, but even if I don’t get paid for one, not having to have to do it would be a vacation, and that’s what I’m looking at.  Mom is going to go to Baltimore to visit P with my sister C for TEN WHOLE DAYS including two weekends.  The waiting is driving me insane.  Though the Wellbutrin is doing me good, the stress of both jobs in general is sucking the serotonin right off my brain.  I believe it’s referred to as burn out, but I can hold on….I can hold on…..I can hold on….until Thursday of this week.  I go to work, Mom is at home, I come home and Mom is gone.  I can go to bed when I want, I don’t have to watch TV if I don’t want, and I can read, do crafts, play with Sammy, do anything I want for ten whole days.  Even if I do nothing.  

I know it doesn’t sound like much of a difference since I’m still doing 8 hrs a day at a job, but my life has been very hectic (thanks to the Wellbutrin!! Yea):

  • Job
  • Mom
  • Church
  • OA
  • Work out
  • Mom
  • Sammy (who has been seriously neglected in all of this)
  • Writing (mostly poetry about Grace and my Steps…the Steps poetry will be posted here eventually)

(Yes, I know I put Mom twice.  There is the doing with Mom and doing for Mom, two different jobs in my mind)

And then I keep reminding myself of what I need to do:

  • Meditation
  • Planning my meals
  • Cooking for myself
  • More exercise
  • Laundry
  • Cleaning
  • Sammy
  • Writing/Editing my books
  • Journaling

Well, I say I need meditating, I have found a form of meditation.  It’s called 750 Words.  It’s a site where you can just let your consciousness stream out all over the page and be done with it.  Basically clearing all the detritus off the brain from the day and dreams before and just get it out in preparation for the day ahead.  I’ve found it good for dumping anger, for working out personalities in my books, especially when they keep asserting themselves during the day when I’m trying to focus on other things.  I copy and paste blogs and poems into it because I consider that to be part of that kind of writing.  And I work on the concepts behind my blog posts as well.  The cool thing is no one but me can see them.  I can write all sorts of nonsense, I don’t have to spell correctly, I can swear if I’m inclined to without fear of offending…not that I fear offending but I’m trying not to take the simple way out.  It keeps my head from spinning and spinning and spinning and I’m able to focus more on specifics.  It’s a cool idea, a really cool site, and so helpful for me.

It’s still doesn’t abate the anxiety of the wait…..

Putting the Coo-Coo Back In The Clock

So, yea, that’s what I’ve been doing in my long absence.   It came to my attention that the chemical assistance I have relied on was failing me.  Not totally, I was better.  Really better.  I didn’t want to kill myself, or anyone else.  My work situation had improved, I wan no longer banging my head on a brick wall trying to do two different jobs, one with continually shifting rules so nothing was cut and dry.  I was surviving, and I thought surviving was enough to be well.  I couldn’t write, I couldn’t think to do anything beyond work and sleep.  Mostly focusing on sleep…sleeping and eating.  If I could combine the two I would have been in heaven.  I lost my ability to pray beyond “Heavenly Father, please just get me through,”  And He did.  But nothing more.

Finally I broke.  I realized what I needed to do was to get more drugs.  Yes. I know, I am a walking pharmacy with the anti-depression, anti-anxiety, diabetes, high blood pressure, vitamins and workout supplements.  Yes, I said workout supplements.  I’ll get to that in another blog.  I made an appointment to see my psychiatrist because he holds the prescription pad and talked to him about supplementing my already full pill sorter.  He gave me Wellbutrin…the generic form of it anyway.  All I’ve got to say is Dopamine is the fountain of youth for me.  Whoever thought up that drug is a demegod, he/she should win the nobel prize in medicine.   There are some things I’ve needed to adjust because of the side effects….like taking it at 5:00am or earlier every day, even the weekend.  I had to up my fiber intake because though I’m moving, other aspects of my life really isn’t.  But obviously, the side effects are NOTHING compared to the benefits of the drug.  I truly am, right now, a perfect billboard for the axiom:

Better living through pharmacology.

So, is the coo-coo completely back in the clock?  Does it still threaten to escape?  Of course, but at least now I have the energy to chase the little bugger back to where it needs to be.

I did want to point out it has been three years this month that I started this blog. I truly did not want this process to take so long. Looking back now I realize how even if I wanted to “fix me” quickly the very nature of depression makes it difficult to move quickly for anything. Especially if it requires me to get out of bed. I can finally say, though, comfortably, I am out of the void and starting to get traction away from the gravitational forces that keep wanting to hold me down.

Friendly Words of Wisdom

A dear friend and fellow blogger (www.unabridgedgirl.com) Mckenzie has been going through a lot.  Lupus is the darkest and a loving supportive husband as the brightest extremes in her life.  One blog she wrote talked about how a friend of hers that made a rude comment.  In the end she made a list of things to remember in the Hard Moments.  I stole them to remember myself and share:

Here are some things I have learned.

1. When you face a hardship you learn a lot about the true nature of friends, family, and people.

2. Things can always get worse.

3. It is okay to smile, even when you feel like frowning.

4. It is extremely easy to get caught up in one’s own woes and difficulties. Basically, get over yourself. It is easier said than done, but real gratitude for those around you goes a long way.

5. Crying is okay.

6. Laughing is even better.

7. Give yourself permission to be angry.

8. Give yourself permission to forgive.

9. Rest.

10. Let your loved one rest, too.

11. It isn’t all about you.

12. Take a walk.

13. Don’t be afraid to voice your appreciation.

14. Be still.

15. And never, ever give up.

Mom Was Wrong – Finally

Okay, so she’s not nearly as right as she thinks she is and far more times than I give her credit for. Mom mad a prediction for my last birthday…..I would be dead. Obviously I’m not because I don’t think wifi or smart phones would be allowed in the space between death and judgement, so she is WRONG. I know it’s petty to take such pleasure in that statement.

However, it’s not like I’ve stood still for this past year. Though it took me 9 months to join OA and I’ve just now started exercising I am making strides. I’ve reduced my meds and it looks as though I’ve gone down as far as I can on my Lexapro I’m hoping exercise (crap) will take care of it and I’ve heard yoga is a good drug replacement too. Again it comes back to caring enough to making myself a priority….I know all this I’m not totally feeling it right now. That’s suppose to come as I work The Steps. And again that goes back to caring enough to make myself a priority. Just like a dog chasing its tail; these are the days of my life.

Slowly I Turn, Step by Step, Inch by Inch

There are twelve steps and twelve traditions in the OA handbook. I’ve been stymied by the first three.

  • Admit you have a compulsive eating problem

Okay, admit you have a problem. I wouldn’t allow myself to believe it even when I admited aloud that I have a problem, even though we are required to introduce ourselves at the meeting as “Hello, my name is Pamela and I am a compulsive overeater”. Even when they are listing the things that overeaters do and I’m nodding my head in a silent confession, even when more of me oozes off the folding chair than is on the seat, I’m not a compulsive overeater. I’m not, I’m not I’m NOT!

I am.

With the lightening of my psyche, coming out of the depression and controlling the anxiety I see myself more clearly. What used to be hiding in the shadows or under all the other fluff of my life is cluster of barnacles that won’t come off by wishing, hoping or praying. My standard operating procedure in things that I don’t want to do, say housework, is to either shut the door or turn off the lights. If you can’t see it, it’s clean. Tada! I could do just that, deny that I have a problem, let the barnacles continue to infest, grow legion until they ultimately sink me. Careening is the process of beaching a ship at high tide to expose one side of the ship to scrape off the parasites. The sole purpose is to allow the ship to reach its full potential on the water. Yes, I’m well aware of the easy fat jokes I’m not utilizing, but the days of being the jolly fat girl has come to an end. In my own best interest I’ve beached myself and scrape back the shell that hides the real reasons for my compulsive overeating. Believe me, I don’t think I eat this way because I’m physically hungry. I need to do the hard work but thankfully, not alone.
 

  •  Locate your Higher Power (Heavenly Father/God in my case)

I have always had a Higher Power. Even when I wasn’t actively engaged in His good cause. I’ve always known God lives, that He loves me. I’ve been blessed with this innate knowledge that seems to have eluded most of my family. However, knowing it and living that knowledge hasn’t always gone hand-in-hand for me.

 

  • Admit you can’t handle your life anymore, God can. I’ll give it to God to deal with.

I’ve seen His miracles, both large and small, I’ve seen the power in the Priesthood, and felt His healing touch when I was sick and afflicted with things I didn’t want or need any more. Knowing that the path I’m on will only lead to a double sized cemetery plot of I don’t do something about it, I still won’t can’t seem to reach out to Him for help in this. It’s my problem, my weakness, my life and I am trying to live it as close to His book as I can. It’s like I want to be perfect now and then give myself to him as a testament to my beliefs and how I’ve lived them in the world.
Unless perfection weighs in at 300+ lbs, I’m as far away from perfection as the Mariana Trench is for shell-seeking scuba divers. Perfection isn’t for this life, I’m not even sure it’s attainable in the next, but it is the conglomeration of knowledge and our ability to act on that knowledge that perfects us for exaltation. I know this. And yet perfection seems to be my goal in EVERYTHING. This is a trap because I know I’m not perfect yet and I need to be perfect, or at least perfect in all the things I can be perfect in, otherwise I’m sinning, and as a sinner I cannot ask nor expect help from a caring, loving Heavenly Father.

Yea, I caught that little oxymoronic paradox. If He is a loving and caring Father in Heaven, He wouldn’t care that I am perfect or not, only that I’m struggling and suffering. Even if the suffering is self-inflicted. He loves me, and He wants what’s best for me. I lack faith. I have been going through a dirge of hopelessness for what seems like ever, but it twinkles back every now and again, so I know it’s not dead, but those two small words are the key. We are to have faith, even if it’s the size of a mustard seed, and when planted in prepared soil (hope) it will grow to bring shade and provide homes for small helpless animals of the meadow. I lack these things, the hope and the inner-wherewithal to act on that faith. Faith, is a verb, I know it doesn’t sound like it is, but it is. Faith without works is dead. Maybe I’m afraid of the work, maybe I’m afraid of the success, all these things need to be examined but nothing, ever, will get done unless I jump.

I’m not ready to jump.

Last night I did it. I took the first small step, well actually all three. I am a compulsive overeater. God knows this and I have turned my life and sanity over to Him. Yes, I’m still prying fingers off one at a time to relinquish full control over to Him, but slowly I’ve turned and, step by step, inch by inch I will turn my life from compulsive overeater to humble personal achiever.

 

Footnote:

[1] When I hear the word “Careening” I think about careening out of control, which is what I am, but now careening seems to represent “caring” and that is the type of careening I need done.

Hello. My name is Pamela and I am a Compulsive Overeater……

I know. Crap!

I’ve started studying the steps.

I’ve yet to truly take one.

Abstinence sucks.

Cookies are no longer comfort, they are the enemy.

I know I have to do this, Heavenly Father has been preparing me to do this.

How do you make amends to yourself without chocolate or cheesecake?
Mmmmmm, chocolate cheesecake.

Serenity sounds like a nice place live. (not the space ship, the head space).

I’m tired of victimhood*, it’s time to be my own Superhero.

 

 

 

*I consider myself a victim of my own choices, the paths I’ve taken and the wounds I’ve never truly cared for.

Who I Want To Become

Today I had a new motto sort of bubble up from the irritation from a favor asked of me today.

“Just because someone cannot be what I need them to be doesn’t mean I should stop trying to be who I want to become”

 

I wrote it down on a post-it note and stuck it in my calendar.  The more I read it through the day the more I realized what a blessing this is.  I get to re-create my life.  I. Get. To. Re-Create. My. Life.  Like scraping the barnacles off the keel of my soul and revealing the bare planks ready for a smooth departure into the future.  Well, smooth-ish, as smooth as anyone else can hope for in this life.  So, hope is returning.

The medication and settling into my own body again has opened up doors that I thought were closed off, More like boarded up and padlocked, dressers and bookshelves piled in front of the door just for good measure. Dare I say hope is returning?  I choose who I will become.  I’m excited, I’m scared, I’m daunted by the task ahead of me, but I’m hopeful.  

**WARNING: IMMATURE RANT TO FOLLOW**

Why do I have to change?  Why am I the only one that has to be the nice one, the kind one, the polite one?  Why do I feel like I’m getting taken advantage of?  It’s not fair, it’s not right and I’m not going to stand for this any longer!

**RANT OVER**

Okay, so I still have a way to go.