The Levels of Anxiety

In my last blog post, I decribed the different forms of anxiety that I experience. But there are also different levels to each, increasing in severity. It affects how I function in my daily life. It has been years since I've had a full day without anxiety. I may get a few hours of clarity at the most. But usually, anxiety is a constant thing, just under the surface. Or like a friend who always has some kind of drama that they want to talk about and won't leave you alone. Anxiety is my best friend and my nemesis.

The levels of anxiety:

0 - Absence [No anxiety can be felt, complete clarity]

1 - Okay [Anxiety is under the surface but doesn't affect my daily activities]

2 - Struggling [Anxiety has been triggered and is starting to affect how I'm functioning, not noticeable to others but makes everything much harder to do]

3 - Suffering [Anxiety is a physical pain inside and constant mental anguish, everything hurts and it takes a lot of effort to function]

4 - Crazy [The most dangerous level - I cannot manage the anxiety in a healthy way, get impulsive, have intense internal pain that makes me want to scratch my face open to get it out]


I'm usually on the "Okay" or "Struggling" levels, on a daily basis. I can block the anxiety or use CBT techniques or medication to manage the symptoms. "Suffering" may happen a few times a month but usually only lasts a day or two. I very rarely feel "Absence", but it's so refreshing when I do. "Crazy" is what I fear, because I know that I might do something to harm myself and I don't like feeling out of control. Back when I was first diagnosed (2008), I felt crazy everyday. It was horrible. Medication is not a cure, but for me, it does help. It helps me become more myself, by removing the clouds in my mind and smoothing out the rough edges.

Anxiety, in its many forms

Generalized Anxiety Disorder is so strange. Right now, I'm feeling very agitated and like I want to do a million things...yet, I have zero motivation to do anything. My mind is racing and I have so many ideas about what to do, I also have a list of things that need completed in the next few days...but the fear is stopping me. Fear of the future, new obstacles to overcome, changes, changes. I don't want to face it. This isn't my choice right now. I'm not chasing a dream. I'm just trying to survive. I want a quiet life. I want to concentrate on my hair: new styles, keeping it healthy. I want to travel and go to concerts and stay home and rest. But right now I can't. I need to find a new job before the end of the month and I need to keep pushing myself. Maybe after things get settled, I can take a break. But I don't know. Not knowing is what stresses me. I do know this is necessary, I know that it's time, I know I need more money, but it's very difficult to cope with it all. Maybe for others it's easy. But for me it's not. Change is always a big deal for me. And all I can feel is what I'm losing. I can't see what I'm gaining. Because it's not visible to me yet. And my anxiety has been very persistent the past couple days. And ever present for months. I rarely get a break from it for more than a day.

There are 3 types of anxiety that I encounter. In the past I grouped it as "physical anxiety" or "mental anxiety". But the mental anxiety can be divided into 2 categories itself: intrusive thoughts and obsessive worries. Sometimes they all occur at once, other times, it's one or the other.

The physical anxiety manifests into increased energy, agitation, or the "anxiety bees" - which is when I feel like something is moving around very fast inside of me. My heart beats too fast and I can't sit still. My body feels uncomfortable. It's not mania or a pleasant sensation, it's more like depression in fast forward. So, you have the lies and doubts and insecurities and fears of depression, but in a fast-paced cycle, that feels like motivation but really isn't. It leads to burnout. This is the time when I have compulsions that my anxiety won't let me avoid. I have repetitive behaviors, dermatillomania (skin picking), wash my hands after everything I touch (because I'm afraid there's a residue on it and I can't eat or touch something else until it's off), wash clean plates and utensils before I use them (but that's rooted in past experience where I ate off of a plate with food residue on it by accident - so I try take steps to keep it from happening again), pick my nails, tap my fingers, clench my fists. Another eccentricity is that I have to change my clothes if I bump against the toilet or if something falls on the bathroom floor while I'm getting dressed. Even if it didn't actually touch anything, if there's even a CHANCE that it could have, I can't wear it. I try, but my mind won't let me. I'll keep thinking about it and thinking about it (germs) until I do something to change it. I get paranoid and overprotective, move very fast from one thing to another. The funny thing is, even with all of those behaviors, most people don't even notice anything is wrong.

I feel crazy and know that I'm not behaving like myself. It's not something I can control. But at least I've learned to recognize the onset and progression of the anxiety. So I manage it best I can. But it's like having a cold: it's in your system until it passes. You can take medications or use other techniques to ease the symptoms, but the anxiety running through your bloodstream is there until it's not.

The mental/emotional anxiety takes another form. One aspect is the worries, where I stress myself out thinking and analyzing an upcoming event or a mistake I made or the way someone reacted to something I did or said. I mentally beat myself up about it and dwell on it for hours. I can push the thought out of my mind temporarily, but it always comes back. An obsessive cycle. A lot of what I worry about is due to the unknown. I feel more settled when I know what I need to know or make a plan. I have irrational panic because I'm catastrophizing and getting overwhelmed by negative beliefs. CBT tools help me restructure my thoughts, but it's an effort. Of course, I have valid worries too, like a family member in the hospital, or car trouble, or my own medical issues. It's just when it becomes my whole focus and I only see what can go wrong and the stress builds up that it becomes unhealthy and damaging. I begin to miss meals and don't have an appetite. I have to force myself to eat so that I don't lose weight. My whole body feels tense and I get stomach problems and my immune system doesn't work as well.

The other aspect of the mental anxiety, which I've concluded is the worse type, is the intrusive thoughts. The waking nightmare images that pop into my head out-of-the-blue with no trigger. Like a thought that my niece or nephew fell down the stairs and got hurt badly...I feel the fear and panic and at that moment, it's really happening. My mind starts to go through the steps of what to do next: check and see if they're ok, call an ambulance, call my sister, make sure have my purse, kids insurance info, etc. All of that goes through my mind in a split second, while my body is in fight or flight mode. I hate these types of thoughts, they're painful and scary. I have to tell myself it's not real and stop the thought right as it happens. Block it, calm myself down. On a good day, it's easy to stop it and it fades away and is forgotten. On a bad day, it doesn't go away so easily and it may cycle back again. Or I might not completely believe myself when I say it's not real. And so I keep worrying.

It's similar to when you have a bad dream and then wake up and the after-effects stay with you for awhile. It felt so real in the dream and your mind has to adjust to being back in reality. You tell yourself that it wasn't real, just a dream, but it takes some time for that feeling to wear off. Maybe you're afraid to go back to sleep because you think you'll dream about it again. But eventually you do. That's what anxiety is like for me. Only I'm awake the whole time. And sometimes these thoughts pop in multiple times in one day. It shakes me. It's hard to take on. It makes me tremble and want to cry. But I get through it. Get past it, as well as I'm able.

It's hard to even convey how bad chronic anxiety is or how hard it is to overcome. I am high-functioning, so I'm able to work and handle responsibilities and most times, my anxiety doesn't show on the surface. People don't see it and don't know. There have been a few people in my life who have picked up on it right away and even worked to help me calm down. But most times, I'm on my own. It's what I live with, it's a part of me, probably for the rest of my life. But I'm trying to make it have a lesser effect and presence in my daily life. Maybe one day I'll be free of it. Or at least be able to manage it easier.

Thoughts, on the eve of my 40th birthday

This is one of the few times in my life where I'm not dreading my birthday. Maybe because I don't care about all of the other stuff I used to care about. Or because I have special plans tomorrow and a hot outfit and hairstyle (that will hopefully work out). Being the center of attention, which birthdays inevitably bring, always make me uncomfortable, but maybe it won't be so bad this time.

I know that people don't understand why the "looking young" thing always bothered me, but maybe I've never explained it. It's not about how I feel about it, it's how other people have reacted that's the problem. It would be fine if it was something that started recently, because I don't actually want to look "old". Having a young body and face is a good thing. But these comments have been happening since I was 13 years old. I was finally a teenager (and that's a big deal to a girl) and some waitress in a restaurant said she thought I was only 10. It wasn't a compliment. I never even thought about how I looked before then. But that really bothered me. And when I was Sweet 16 (another milestone) someone said I looked like a little kid. I didn't even get to be a teenager? And the worst thing was on my 18th birthday when I went out to a club to celebrate with my cousin and one girl said she thought I was only 12 the whole time. No guys wanted to dance with me. I felt like there was something wrong with me. All of these things were also happening during the years when I was being made fun of for my nose and being told I was boring for being quiet. Everything about me was odd to other people, so I thought I was just made wrong. And yeah, depression started to creep in, although I didn't know it yet. I didn't have low self-esteem, I had no self-esteem.

As an adult it was only annoying when people thought I was lying about my age or looked at me like I had two heads (like there's something wrong with me for looking the way I look) or acted like I was deceiving them because their perception of me was proven wrong. And I understand that online, people only see photos and you can't always tell someone's age, but my graduation years for high school and college are right there on my profile page and I post about growing up in the 80s, so I'm sorry, but there really shouldn't be any reason for someone not to know by now.

And at this point, I'm not going to worry about what other people think. They can believe what they want to believe. I don't need to prove anything. Their perception of me doesn't determine reality. My age is just the number of years I've been alive. Which is a lot, considering. And lots of people look younger than what they are...it's very common and not a strange thing. We are who we are.

The only hard part about tomorrow will be thinking of my dog, Lazy. She died on my birthday in 2011. Something about her popped up in my FB memories yesterday, regarding her last days, and it hit me so hard and brought back the pain and grief. I can't let myself think of that time. She was like my child...I couldn't fathom life without her. But we all kept living. And the world kept turning. But I know we all still think of her. She was the sweetest dog.

Dreams

I realized something important today. I have accomplished many of my dreams. Maybe on a smaller scale than expected or through a different route than planned, but I've done it.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist and a writer. I was better at art and enjoyed drawing people and clothing, so I went to college for fashion design. I expected to become a fashion illustrator, but I wanted to learn how to create a garment from start to finish, to get an overall education in the field. So I learned sewing and pattern-making and draping design and garment construction. But I also learned figure drawing and painting skills and how to mix colors and create a composition. I learned fashion history and art history and took a photography course (with a camera that had film that needed developed, which we did ourselves).

I learned what I needed to learn, which was my intention with college. It was never about money or a job or becoming some famous designer. It was about learning and become proficient at my craft. I didn't think about getting a job until right before I graduated. My plan was to get a job in the Philly area so that I wouldn't have to move back home. But it didn't happen. I went to interviews for months (commuting from home) and got the same response from the companies: I had the right skills and qualifications and the other employees liked me, but I didn't have enough experience. So they always went with someone who did. I was right out of college, of course I had no industry experience. My 3 month internship wasn't enough and retail experience didn't count. I was turned down for every job and fell off of the path that I was on. That's what it felt like. The course that I expected and planned for my life didn't happen. I couldn't keep going that way, I had no money, no car (I had been borrowing my parents' or my dad drove me). So I got a job at home...and another.

I ended up working in a bridal shop as a seamstress. I never enjoyed sewing, but I was good at it and learned a lot from that job. I made a few custom pieces for people and learned how to alter existing styles. I also saved up enough money to buy my own car. Eventually the shop closed down and I got another job in retail (commission sales), but with the knowledge I learned as a seamstress, I began to make custom dresses for friends and coworkers. I even sold a few original designs on ebay. That's how my moniker "NicRen Designs" was born. I needed a label for my designs and used the first 3 letters of my first and middle names. In college, I learned how to do pricing and determine the cost of creating a garment, so I used those worksheets as a basis for how much to charge customers. I cut down my hours at my job to pursue this, while I was saving money to get my own place.

I couldn't get a job in the design industry, so I created my own. I did it, I was a designer. My design business never made enough money to live off of, but I understood that it would take time. However, I had other plans. I wanted to move away from my hometown...and so I did. On my own, without any friends or family in the new city. It was very hard. But my dad told me he was proud of me for not giving up on what I wanted and going after it.

I still did fashion design work here and there and altered all of the dresses for my sister's wedding. But it was around that time that I started to develop severe anxiety, and sewing triggered it. It still does. People told me that I was wasting my degree by not pursuing fashion, but design is something that lives inside of me, something that I can do anywhere, anytime, during the course of my life. A degree is just paper. What I learned was what's important, and I'll always have that. But I needed a break.

Which brings me to my 2nd dream: to become a writer. I think part of the reason I didn't pursue it when I was younger, was because I didn't think I was good enough. I always loved to write and kept journals and wrote short stories and songs and poems. I'm a quiet person, so that was how I expressed myself. After I got laid off from my job in 2009, I took some time to explore what I wanted to do next. I found some freelance writing opportunities and started writing for Examiner.com. They paid by page views, so I had to learn how to self-promote on social media to get more traffic to my articles. It was never about the money, of course, but it would have been nice to make a living doing that. But from the feedback that I saw from other writers, it was not possible manifest a large income from that company. It would have to be a hobby or for experience.

I also did guest posts on other sites and had my own music blog and personal blog. I got a lot of great feedback from those and I felt like I actually was a better writer than I gave myself credit for in the past. Or at least, I became one.

After moving back home again in 2012, I didn't work for a year. I was in a bad place mentally and physically, dealing with family deaths, depression, anxiety, recovering from being severely underweight. I felt like a failure because I couldn't pay my bills or afford my apartment anymore. Living successfully on my own was another path I fell off of. But being home was what I needed and put me on the path to my next dream: raising kids.

I always wanted kids. Always. There was never a question about it. I was around kids my whole life and enjoyed babysitting and taking care of other people. I'm a nurturer. I always planned on getting married and having kids. When so many relationships failed, the marriage idea didn't seem as important and having kids was all that mattered. But I wasn't going to just have kids by some random guy. It still had to be right for me. Obviously, it hasn't happened. I'm getting older and it scares me to think that it won't happen because my body will no longer be able to do it. I'm almost 40. But I won't give up hope yet.

So, before my niece was born, my sister asked me if I wanted to be her full-time nanny. Of course I did, but I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to handle a full-time job again (I was still having issues with depression and anxiety). I started taking care of my niece on my own when she was 2 months old. It was hard, but taking care of kids is a lot of work and that was expected. I also had a new puppy at home that I was training, so that added to the stress. But I did it. My niece and I have a special bond and it's been wonderful to watch her grow up and learn new things. When my nephew came along, I took care of him too. Taking care of a newborn and a 1 1/2 year old is a special kind of challenge. Potty-training, changing diapers, all of the feedings, tantrums...it's a lot. My niece has asthma, so there are special circumstances related to that as well. I struggled but eventually found my rhythm.

It's been almost 5 years since I became a nanny. And this is the most rewarding job I've ever had. The only one where I've felt like I had a purpose and made a difference in someone's life. I love those kids like my own. Even when they're behaving like little monsters. But my time with them is coming to an end. There are changes happening beyond my control, and honestly, I need more money. If I want to move forward with my life, I need to change as well.

It's scary to think of getting a new job, starting over, in a place with new people. I haven't worked in a company setting in 10 years. But it hurts more to think of not being with the kids every day. I'm not coping well with it. I feel like I'm giving away my kids. But I just have to deal with it and adapt.

I don't think I can get a job working with other kids. And not have to eventually give them up too. I don't know if that's best anyway. I need to concentrate on myself for a little while, take care of my needs instead of putting everyone else first. Something with less stress...but still fulfilling. I don't know what that is yet. I know what I don't want and what would be unhealthy for me. But what is the best career path?

And honestly, I'm not striving to have a "career". That's not what motivates me. I need money to pay bills and buy things and finally get my own place again. And I want to travel and go to concerts and have adventures. But through it all, I want a family of my own. I want a quiet, peaceful life. Not going to meetings or racing from one thing to the next. Maybe my own business, maybe not. But whatever it is, I have to be content and regularly have some time away from people and social activities.

There are so many things I'd like to do and so many things I've already done. I love promoting bands online and that would probably be my ideal job right now. So I'm looking into some options. But in the meantime, getting out of debt is a major focus, as well as managing my mental health issues better.

We all have our goals and our strengths. What works for others may not work for me. When there's something I want, I go after it with everything I have. But my heart has to be in it. I'm still trying to find what makes my heart happy.

Big steps

I took a big step yesterday. But let me backtrack and explain why it was so monumental...

I used to hate my profile, the way my face looks from the side. That goes back to when I was a kid and got made fun of because of my nose. I was even asked if I was going to get plastic surgery when I grew up. If people who look like me and are supposed to love me unconditionally think that there's something wrong with me, then there must be, right? And not just family, but strangers too, laughing at me and making comments. After years of that, I began to see it as this horrible deformation on my face. I was so young, just a child, then a teenager. It shaped my perceptions of beauty and acceptance. I was already a different color than almost everyone in school, I dressed differently and spoke differently than the black kids at other schools. I fit in nowhere. And I felt ugly.

I began to see myself as a monster. I couldn't understand how anyone could stand to look at me from the side. From the front, I was ok, even pretty. Although my nose still disgusted me. But mostly I ignored it. This was the 90s, before smartphone selfies and filters and contouring with makeup. What you saw was what you got.

I remember in college, we had to draw portraits of each other for one of my classes. It had to be the profile view. I was so terrified and had to stop the panic. I didn't want my partner to see me that way. This was a guy I didn't know well. What would he think? That I'm ugly, that it's just what black people look like (big lips, big noses)? I didn't know. But I sat for it. And he did a really good job. I looked like me, but not ugly or deformed. That's when I started to think that maybe other people didn't see me the way I saw myself.

Another experience from my college days was when my then-boyfriend tapped my nose and said it was cute. I was shocked. No one ever said that to me before. I don't think I completely believed him, but I know he was being honest about how he felt. He accepted me and even LIKED my flaws. I still think about that moment, years later.

But it took me well into my 30s to actually accept that part of me and not be disgusted or uncomfortable by it. First by mainly ignoring it and concentrating on my good points and the features that I liked about myself (my eyes, my smile). Then eventually, I just accepted it as part of me and didn't care what others thought. It's how I look. Unless I actually want to get surgery, this is the way I am. I don't want to look like anyone else or not recognize myself. I guess one good thing about me is that I never compared myself to girls in magazines or online or felt inadequate that way. I never wanted be to anyone else or coveted what they had. Even when I hated myself the most and was severely depressed, I didn't want to be another person. Just a different person than I was feeling inside. A better version of myself.

I've posted a few photos of myself from the side on Facebook and Instagram in the past few years, but I still felt nervous about it and preferred my front view or a 3/4 view of my face. I'd never used a profile view for a profile/avatar pic...until last night. I changed my main Instagram photo to a recent one that I took of my hair from the side (see above). I was happy with the way that hairstyle turned out, and my makeup as well, so I felt like that represented where I was in my life.

I'll admit, I was scared to do it and had to reassure myself that I could change it to something else at any time, if I wasn't happy. But I feel like I made the right choice. It may seem like a little thing, but it's a big step for me. On the path of self-acceptance and self-love.

10 years

I just realized that it's been almost 10 years since I was diagnosed with depression and started treatment for the first time. It was February 2008, when I was 29 (although I had been exhibiting symptoms for at least 15 years before that). My diagnosis was Major Depressive Disorder. I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Seasonal Affective Disorder, insomnia, and hypoglycemia soon after. It's been a long and difficult road, on and off medication, filled with rock bottom days, weight fluctuations, and abusive treatment from others. I wasn't on my best behavior either and regret being so defensive and dismissive to former friends. But I also found a support system and people who could relate to my struggles and a strength inside of me that I didn't know I had. Even when I wanted to give up, I didn't. Music was a big part of what helped get me through, sometimes the only thing.

Over the years, my depression dissipated to only a few episodes a year, and I found ways to manage and overcome it much quicker. I studied Cognitive Behavioral Therapy techniques and read a lot of articles and learned from others. I believe I trained my body to fight depression, even when my brain wanted to embrace it. It tried to convince me to give up but it couldn't win anymore. But anxiety was still a big problem and there were times when I was afraid that I would hurt myself. I was more impulsive in that state and in so much internal pain. Antidepressants didn't help that and alprazolam was just temporary. I suffered a lot, for years. There's no other way to put it. It was overwhelming and I had to fight just to function and appear "normal".

I weaned myself off of medication in 2014 and managed (not well) for a few years. In 2016, I decided to ask my new doctor for help and began medication again. It helped, but not enough. So she suggested talk therapy and introduced me to one of the therapists in the office. That was the first time that I had hope that I might one day beat this. Not just live with it but actually overcome it. And I was ready. It wasn't sit-on-a-couch-and-talk-about-your-problems therapy. It was CBT therapy specifically geared toward my particular issues with anxiety. My therapist thought I had already been in therapy because I was so insightful and knew of several techniques. But I hadn't and I didn't know how to implement these tools into my life and restructure my thoughts enough to manage my anxiety. But I learned. I did the homework. I went through the program (about 15 sessions in a year) and felt successful enough to do it on my own. I may eventually do long-term therapy with someone else, but for now, I'm doing well. And I keep striving to be better.

I still have down days and chronic anxiety, but I keep fighting.

I hope you're happy

"I hope you're happy,
I hope you're good.
I hope you get what you wish for,
And you're well understood.

And whatever your progress,
I know you'll be fine.
Because I hope you're happy,
Even if you're not mine." - Blue October

The first couple times that I heard this song, I attributed it to myself - to be happy and understood. To have the things that I wish for. The literal lyrics. But then I started to hear it from the perspective of unrequited love - that I may need to let go and let someone I care about be happy with someone else. I could do it. I have done it in the past. Although I still hope for a better way.

But maybe it's not about either of those things. I know that the intention of the song was a dedication to Jus's ex-wife (and others in his past) to show his support and honor their friendship. And maybe it's more relevant to my past relationships and a way for me to forgive and move forward. With no animosity or blame. Just good wishes for their futures.

Thoughts of my most recent ex-boyfriend go through my mind from time-to-time. They don't bring pain and there's no part of me that wants him back. I've moved on. I closed that door and walked through another one. There were good memories, of course, and I learned a lot about myself from that relationship. I grew stronger after the destruction. Because of it. A phoenix rising. A new beginning. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But it's been 3 years since I've seen him. I haven't dated since. At first, because I needed time to heal and didn't want anyone at all. Now, it's because I'm waiting for the man who is worthy of my love and devotion. My choice.

Early on after the breakup, I told myself that whenever he popped into my head, I should just pray for him. Pray for him to be safe, to have food and a home and peace in his mind. To have no one harm him...and for him not to harm anyone either. He told me once, that he wanted to become a righteous man, to follow God and live by his word. I didn't understand what that meant at the time. I thought being good was enough, but righteousness is a higher level. Something beyond your earthly being. I did research on it, of course. I wanted to understand him. I'm more spiritual than religious myself, and take what I need from different philosophies and religions. So I never thought I could ascend to that level that he spoke of. But I wanted him to. And I believed in him. I could see the good in him, the potential. And I wanted to match him, to be worthy of being with someone so devoted to God. I wanted to be righteous too.

I may never be, but I am better than I was. Through this relationship I learned how to use compassion and mercy and grace. I was there for him through everything. And constantly working on myself. I became closer to God. I became more loving and accepting and forgiving. I ascended to a higher purpose. Unfortunately, he did not and lost his way. Got back into bad habits and old relationships. He betrayed me in every way. But I did what I was meant to do and listened to God and gave my all. I can't regret something that was meant. And something that ultimately made me a better person. That was the true purpose of the relationship. To make me become what I needed to become. To show me the way. And find my strength.

I don't know where he is now or what his life is like. It's been more than a year since I've spoken to him. And he was not in a good place. What he never realized, was that I would have always been there for him. I would have helped him and supported him and made sure he stayed healthy and safe. Even afterward. Even if we could have somehow stayed friends, if he needed me, I would have been there. But he walked away. Time and time again. And I had to let him go. So now, I still pray that he's safe, that he's taken care of and has what he needs. I still pray that he will one day become that man that I saw inside, that glimmer of light in the darkness. That man that God showed to me. That righteous man. Or at least, a good one. A better one. I still believe in him.

He's been in my dreams lately. I don't like when the past visits that way and the dreams made me feel uncomfortable. Sort of bruised my heart. I did love him and that love never goes away. But he was too toxic for my life and it's better for me to be free of it. But I can't ignore these signs. And especially since "I Hope You're Happy" is Blue October's latest single and I've listened to it a lot. And can see it in relation to my ex. It's time, I think, to wish him happiness and pray for a good life. With whomever he chooses to spend it. It's not easy, because there is still hurt in my heart. That he chose someone else over me...and many more since. And I was the loyal one, but I'm still single. It's easy to hold onto the negative emotions. But I don't want to. I want to move forward. I want to be better.

So, I hope you're happy, Joseph. I really do. I pray for you and I hope you have peace and are surrounded by people who love you. I pray for you to have the best life that you can have. I pray for you to be that man I know you are. I see you. I always did. And I release you now. I release you. Live your life. Stay alive. Be free.

- Nikki

Gratitude

If I speak of the things I'm grateful for, maybe it will cast out my doubts. If I concentrate on love, it will overshadow the pain. Depression is trying to creep in but I'm fighting hard not to let it. So many worries, so many lies.

But I'm grateful for the people in my life who have stood by me in the toughest times. Those who support and encourage and compliment me. Those who have told me that I made an impact on their lives. That I've inspired them and helped them learn something new because of my insights. Those who value me and appreciate me and acknowledge me. Those who check up on me and keep me centered. Those who relate to my posts, and I to theirs, so that I know I'm not alone. That I'm not the only one who feels these things and thinks this way. It helps. It matters. It all matters.

I don't ask for much, but I need a lot more than I appear to. I'm independent but needy. I need my personal space, but I also need quality time with people who make me laugh and enjoy life.

I'm grateful for my friendships. For family and pets and music and movies and books. All of the little things and all of the big things. I'm grateful for being taken care of and helped. I'm grateful for everyone I've helped along the way. I'm grateful for You allowing me to become a better person. For seeing You.

I'm grateful for a place to sleep, a house to live in. It may not be ideal or my own, but it's safe and warm. I'm grateful for the kids in my life. I'm grateful for all that You brought me. I'm grateful for my strength and courage to overcome my fears and keep living, keep improving. I'm grateful for You pulling me out of bad relationships when you did. I'm grateful for the lessons I've learned and the strength I've gained because of these incidents. I'm grateful for the love I shared with others and the memories made, even if they were temporary.

I'm grateful for the people who haven't given up on me. Who can handle me. Who understand, or try to.

I'm grateful for the love I receive. And the love I give.

'Twas the afternoon before Christmas: Thoughts

I've been working really hard on keeping a positive outlook. Trying to inspire others while I improve myself. It's a fight sometimes. And to be honest, I'm really struggling right now. The usual: generalized anxiety, depression, grief, Seasonal Affective Disorder, holiday busyness and stress. With some dermatillomania and hypoglycemia thrown in. I haven't been eating as well as I should, haven't been exercising, haven't been using my CBT tools as effectively as I should, haven't been writing. I've been so tired, physically and emotionally. Completely drained. But I'm not giving up.

Being in a house full of people is very difficult because the noise and food smells and barrage of emotions from others overwhelms me. My senses are very heightened, especially when I'm already not feeling well. Yesterday was painful. And I can't really talk about because they don't understand. They don't feel it. "You shouldn't feel like that if it's family." But that doesn't matter, the effect is the same. But I just have to take time away from everything and sit in the quiet, alone. It's the only way I can survive.

This time of year is always hard. So many memories in my head, missing those who aren't here any longer. For a long time after my aunt died, I dreaded Christmas and didn't see the point of celebrating. I couldn't feel happy because there was so much pain associated with it. She died 4 days after Christmas in 2006 and Christmas Day was the last time that I saw her. And with all the family passings that happened in the following years - many during the winter months and near holidays - it became increasingly difficult.

See, Christmas used to be my favorite holiday, something that I looked forward to, ever since I was a kid. Not just about gifts, but the whole celebration of it. The tree, the decorations, the songs, the emotions in the air. Now I feel a slight sense of panic when the stores start laying out the Christmas decorations or playing holiday tunes (too early, in my opinion). My mind tells me, "I'm not ready! I'm not ready! I'm not ready!" But it's not Christmas that I'm not ready for as much as what comes after. The 29th.

The past few years, however, I've been able to enjoy the holidays again. Maybe because I have so many nieces and nephews to buy presents for and giving is the one thing that makes me happiest. Every year I'm so focused on everyone else, that I forget that I will be receiving gifts too. Seriously, every year. I don't think about it until closer to the day and then I think, "Oh, that's right..." I'm not a materialistic person and don't ask for much (ever), so when people think of me and give me something from their heart, it means a lot. No matter what it is, I'm always grateful. But the best feeling is when I make someone else happy. I'm pretty good at finding gifts for people because I listen and pay attention to what they like. That's important - getting them something that represents them or their needs. I try to see it from their perspective and imagine their reaction. I never have much money but I do my best. I'm pretty good at finding bargains too.

This year, I feel pretty good about Christmas (besides the anxiety stuff). I'm not dreading the holiday because I'm excited to see how the kids will react to what I bought. And I tried to get the adults things they could use (and a few fun things).

I'm also looking forward to New Year's Eve. That holiday always gave me mixed feelings because I was always single and never had a kiss at midnight (until recently). I went to parties, concerts, had fun...but never felt satisfied. I'm not one for kissing strangers or bringing a date just to say I have a date. I can do it on my own. But I wish I didn't have to. There is someone I'm interested in, a good man who appreciates and values me. But we're just friends and I'm not sure how he feels or what he wants. Whether he's even ready for me. I could ask...but I want it to be his choice. I need someone who will choose me...and stay. I'm happy with our friendship but I do want more. And so, I pray for a kiss at midnight. With this man who makes my heart skip a beat (has that even happened so often with anyone else?) and my soul smile. But I accept that it may not be the right time and more work may need to be done on this situation. I'm not rushing this. I'm not chasing. It's necessary to do this the right way, a different way, so that my past doesn’t repeat itself. If you want something different, you have to do something different.

I have many insecurities and fears, but I also have hope and faith. I believe. And I'm not giving up. I deserve to be happy. It's my time.

Lots of love to anyone who reads this.
Have a Merry Christmas!

Progress

It's been a year since I wrote my last blog post. I can't say that my love life has improved, but I have. I've made so much internal progress over the past year, and notably, since October 2016. That's when I began therapy...for the first time in my life. I'd considered it before and it had been suggested to me from various doctors and friends, but I was never ready. I began taking medication again (after 2 years of being off of antidepressants and using natural remedies) because my anxiety symptoms were unmanageable and interfered with my daily life and well-being. It went from a few days a month of feeling "crazy" and emotional, to daily bouts of recurring anxiety and panic. Sometimes I'd have a few days where I'd feel "normal" and relaxed, then the anxiety would set in again. The depression issues that I had in the past were not as present and I've only had one major episode in the past year. I was able to use CBT/DBT techniques that I learned on my own (through research) to manage my depression to the point of almost non-existence. I'd have days here and there where I'd feel down and unmotivated, but I'd be able to pull myself out of it within a day or two (as opposed to weeks). So I felt that I was managing that well. The anxiety was not so easy to overcome. I did not have the right tools and was only able to calm myself down temporarily. I needed help.

I spoke to my doctor about it and she prescribed a medication similar to what I had been on in 2008, which did help with depression back then, but did not alleviate anxiety at all...so I was a little skeptical. But I hoped for the best. This new one balanced out my mood better, but was still lacking in lessening the frequency and intensity of my anxiety attacks. Basically, anxiety is constantly present under the surface, almost daily, but it would build and become overwhelming or be triggered by an outside stimulus. Irritation, panic, fear, nausea, excessive worries...times ten. The "anxiety bees" would be buzzing inside. How do you get them out? You don't want to hear those thoughts.

So, the one med didn't work well enough and a supplement was added - which did work. I could see an improvement within a couple weeks. The constant anxiety was less frequent and the overwhelming attacks became very rare. Nothing can take everything away and anxiety is a natural warning system that humans need from time to time. But when you have a diagnosed anxiety disorder (G.A.D.), you're in fight-or-flight mode all the time. That is not good for your body. Stress weakens your immune system and causes other health problems. I felt that I was still not able to manage my anxiety as well as I liked, so my doctor suggested talk therapy. I agreed to try it. It was time. During the initial meeting, I found the therapist understanding and sympathetic and helpful.

And for the first time in years I felt HOPE -- that I may one day beat this thing. Or at least be able to live with it and have peace. That's why I decided to go back and continue on this program. It's not a "sit and talk about all of your problems" sort of session. It's geared specifically toward learning how to manage anxiety through cognitive behavioral therapy. Which is, basically, restructuring your thoughts from the negative to the positive. It's not just thinking happy thoughts. You have to dig deep to the root of the problem and practice exercises to condition your mind to operate in a different way. I had homework to do after every session -- worksheets to fill out, coping mechanisms (what we call "tools") to learn, breathing exercises, and so many other techniques that I had to do on my own. I had to interact with other people in my life and use these techniques. I had to use them when I was triggered and in a state of panic. Which is very hard to do. But I tried. I put in the work, I went above and beyond. And I progressed. I impressed my therapist with my insight and willingness to fight this. You have to be ready, that's the thing. I couldn't have done this before, because recovery is HARD work. But I was ready to do it.

It will take years, I'm sure, until I'm able to use my tools the moment that I feel anxiety coming on and stop it immediately. And one day, maybe it won't happen at all. Or maybe it will always be a part of me. But I'm getting better. I can recognize what's happening as soon as I start to feel "off" and know that anxiety is creeping in. This type is kind of like having a cold -- you can't get rid of it, you just have to let it pass out of your system. You can use medication or other distractions for temporary relief, but it's still there until it leaves on its own. My job is to manage the anxiety. I have trouble with the CBT idea of "embracing it" or even accepting it. Because I hate it and don't want it to be a part of my life. It makes me feel like I'm going crazy and I'm not myself. I can see who I am and that's not me. Something else takes over and I'm not in control. And I always want to be in control. But that's not possible and this is a part of me. Most times, people don't even notice when anxiety is there because I'm able to appear to function normally. I have high-functioning depression and anxiety because I can still take care of myself and others, work, drive, interact socially, etc, etc. It takes all of my effort some days, just to make it through the day, but I'm able to do it. That was not always true, but at this point, I can. My weight has been stable too (even gaining weight), so the stress-starvation thing is not a struggle at the moment either.

I can see that I've made progress and that my mind tries to restructure itself every time a stressful situation arises. It might take some time and I may start to fall into my old behavior patterns (like punishing myself by letting the stress eat away at me and worry worry worry), but then I do use a positive behavior and pull myself away from that. I tell myself that I don't deserve to feel that way. I ask myself the questions from the worksheets and think about sentence structure and irrational beliefs -- how can I exchange the words in this statement (thought) to become more positive and hopeful. I try to calm myself down through breathing or put on some music. I have an emergency plan and people that I can reach out to. Some things have become automatic -- like a few months ago when I woke up during the night and had a lot of fears and worries and immediately turned on the Tufstrings album to calm myself. I surprised and impressed myself with that. Usually I would not have tried to help myself feel better and would have let the worries overtake me. Part of the low self-worth thing with depression. But music heals me and it's time to let myself be healed. 'PRN', especially, helps calm my anxiety. I played that song in my head during two different panic attacks and it got me out of it. If there's no music available, I can still hear the music in my mind.

My sessions are almost over and I'm considering long-term CBT therapy. But I'm taking my time with it and will do it when I'm ready. I'm managing very well on my own (with monthly check-ins) and I'm still practicing the techniques. I think the thing that helps me the most is now being able to recognize what's happening, when it's happening, and the reasons for it. Even if the reason is that it's happening for no reason, which is part of it too. No triggers, no difficult situation, it just happens. It's a brain chemistry thing. It can't be controlled consciously. It's chronic and recurring. It's expected. I understand that. I accept that. But I won't accept it controlling my life and stopping me from doing what I want to do. I am very strong. Even at my weakest, I am very strong. I have not given up. I'm still alive. And I'm making progress.

Blueprints

My love life has followed a predictable path, which I have only realized recently. I thought that dating guys of different ages, races, backgrounds, from different cities, meant that I was doing something different each time. It wasn't my intention to have so much diversity, I'm just attracted to many kinds of people and dated men that I had a connection with. And some that I didn't. The underlying goal was to find "the one" and I never knew in what form he'd appear to me, so I took chances on guys I wasn't really into, because you never know. What if he's who I'm meant to be with and I just don't know it right away? What if? But of course, they never were. And now I won't take those chances, because I know how my heart works. If the spark is not there for me in the beginning, it won't be there for me later. But the problem is, even if there's no chemistry, I still care for the person and may want to see where it goes. My heart is able to love in many ways. Friendship is still a major love. And nice guys have asked me out. But that trait is not enough of a reason anymore. The possibility of "what if" isn't enough. Even the caring is not enough. Because it's just settling. If I'm not excited at the prospect of dating someone, I'm not going to do it. That's the new rule. Because, why shouldn't I have something that makes me happy? Don't I deserve to get what I want and be with someone I'm attracted to? It can't always be about what they want. They want ME so I'm obligated to give them a chance? No. That's not fair to anyone. I'm nice, but I deserve more than disappointment and discomfort and guilt and trying to please everyone else. Of course I want a "nice guy", a good-hearted man, but there has to be a connection too. He has to see my worth too. He has to be supportive and fight for the relationship and love me unconditionally too. I can't do it all on my own. Not anymore. I know what it feels like to be so completely in love and feel so loved back. I won't accept less than that. I already found who I thought was "the one", so I'm not searching for that anymore. That's over and done. Maybe he wasn't good for me and too many things were wrong with the relationship, but the outcome doesn't matter because my heart doesn't have that desire to search anymore. I'll wait for what comes to me. If it doesn't make me feel good, I don't want it.

And I know that most relationships don't start out as a big love affair and you have to get to know someone, but that's the point too. I have to want to learn all about them and want to spend time with them...and they have to want that from me too. It's easy to fall into things and brush aside the bad parts and ignore the red flags. Or to just date someone because they're there and the best option you have at the time. I'm not one for leaving someone for someone better and have never broken up with anyone, but it has happened to me almost every time. I'm the one who stays and wants to keep trying. They leave.

And maybe that was for the best (as much as I dislike that phrase). Because I would have kept trying...beyond emotional abuse, beyond toxicity, beyond indifference. I would have kept trying to find a way to make it work. Because that's my nature. I don't give up. Even when I should. So they break me and leave me and I'm forced to let go. Which I do. I don't go back. I'll give my all to the very end, but when I'm done, I'm done. That's why it's so hard for me to get over it. It's not just the feelings or the disillusionment ending, it's the finality of the loss. It's a death for me. So I grieve, for a long time.

Occasionally, they come back. Which is not something I ever experienced before 2014. No one ever came back before. When they go, that's the last time I ever hear from or see them again. Hence the part about it feeling like a death. They disappear off the planet as far as I know. No bumping into exes in the grocery store, no late night calls saying they miss me and want me back. Never happened in the past. I've never gotten back together with an ex. I've wanted to, hoped and prayed that it would happen, but no. All of my friends, everyone in the world, talked about getting back together with exes. Phone calls, reconnecting on FB, etc, etc. What was so wrong with me that no one ever wanted me back? People would say to me, "when you hear from him again, say this..." Or, "have you heard back from him yet?" Yet? What's that? Like it's even a possibility? Doesn't happen, even if I was weak and contacted them again. No reply. Until these last two guys. I don't know why. Things are different, I'm different, I know my worth now, so they can see that I'm special and want me in their lives in some way? I guess. But they came back, at various times. Unexpectedly (and not quite welcome, at first). My 'False Prophets' blog post talks about what happened when I considered going back. Some people get second chances (or 3rd or 4th) and can make it work the next time. I'm a romantic, I believe in that. Like I said, I used to hope for that each time. But it can only work if both people are invested in the relationship and put the work into fixing the things that were damaged before. That didn't happen.

Sometimes you get closure, or at least a chance to talk about some of the things you didn't get to say before. I held onto a lot of pain over the years. Usually I have to just let go and move on, without really knowing why it ended. Or the reasons don't make sense to me. I am incapable of suddenly losing feelings or interest in someone, so my brain can't comprehend it when someone else does. How do you just stop caring or loving someone? How do you just change your mind? I can't, so I don't understand. But it happens. Or so it seems at the time. The reality is that there were fears and doubts and other factors in their personal lives that caused them to react that way. To give up or let go or search for someone else who fits a certain image. What we think we want isn't always what we need. Sometimes we're controlled by our demons and do what we need to do to feel comfortable. I understand that. And I appreciate it when someone admits that it was their issues that got in the way and not something I did wrong, or that I was in some way lacking, like I was originally led to believe. Not that I did everything right, but I tried to do my best. You have to accept me for what I am, because that's all I am. I think sometimes people have this image of what they think I am or what they think I will do, but I'm completely different inside. It's hard to get to know me and I hold a lot inside, but what I show you is genuine. What I tell you is the truth. And if I trust you enough to open up, then you'll know the real me. It can be intense. And it takes time.

I haven't dated that many guys. I've had a lot of empty years, a lot of loneliness. Especially when there's someone I want to be with but can't. I look young, so people think I have plenty of time to date around and figure this out. But I'm almost 38 years old and I'm tired of dating. Tired of short-term relationships and games. I'm too old for that. I can't do casual dating, it was never appealing to me. I want kids more than anything and I'm running out of time. Especially with these health issues...I don't know if that's even part of my future. But I want to try. I know I'm capable of raising a child on my own, but financially I can't right now. And anxiety is becoming a burden. But things can change, things can be overcome. I don't need a man for anything. But what's wrong with wanting someone special in my life to share things with or talk to or laugh with. To have someone that I want to have a family with and a life of my own. Someone who wants that with me...and is willing to go after it. And keep trying, keep working. Not give up. Accept me for me. Be there, always. It may not happen, but I can still want it.

I had to change my ways, shift my perspective. Say no to people I would have said yes to before. Put myself first and see my worth. What do I need? What do I want? What can't I accept in a relationship? What can I compromise on? In the past I compromised on almost everything. I could love someone despite their flaws. Maybe that's a good thing in general, but I didn't allow myself to be treated the right way. Because they didn't accept my flaws or care about my well-being enough to not hurt me. If they said something critical or acted like I was strange or too different (especially too quiet), too bad. That's the way it was. With friends, with family, that's what I was used to hearing. I expected it. I allowed it. I didn't know that I was any better than that or even that there were other people in the world like me. Or that I didn't have to allow or accept it. Some people will never understand me. I AM different. But that's who I am. And I don't need someone in my life who doesn't want me around or only tolerates me and looks down on me. I don't need anyone that much. No matter how I feel.

All of these things are factors in the types of relationships I've had, the types of guys I've dated...and why it never worked. But it goes back farther than that and what I just realized as the initial blueprint. Not one I chose, but happened because of circumstance: The guy who asked to take me to prom when I was 17. He was 19, had already graduated from another school and I met him through my cousin. The first guy who ever liked me. Guys before that mostly laughed at me or ignored me (I have a lifetime of self-esteem issues, but that's another story). This guy was sweet and cute and tall and didn't seem to care that I was quiet or awkward. We only saw each other in person a few times but we talked on the phone a lot. And he asked me to my prom. I was so happy. We talked on Valentine's day, then I didn't hear from him much. The next time that I called his house, his sister said he had moved out. Some issue with his father. I asked if he had another number, she said not yet. This was in 1996, before cell phones. He was my cousin's boyfriend's best friend, but they had broken up, so that wasn't an avenue for contact either. Now, I know what I could have done to track him down or keep trying, but I was a kid and didn't know what to do then. I kept waiting for him to call. But I never heard from him again. The months went by and I ended up going to prom alone...because I didn't want to say that I never went to my prom. It wasn't worth it though.

When I went to college, I met a lot of guys who were interested in me (a new experience) to the point where they were intimidated and literally ran away. But I was always "too quiet" and nothing happened but bad dates. My sophomore year was the first time I fell in love. He was a great guy, super funny, and we dated on and off for 2 years. But early on he admitted that he didn't want to be committed to anyone yet and would probably date other women. It was my choice whether to stay with him...and I did. So I comprised to get what I wanted and ended up not really getting what I wanted. Eventually he moved back to Georgia and stopped returning my calls. I tried contacting him for so long, just to talk it out. But no closure. Took 3 years to get over him completely.

But I tried again. And again and again, searching for the right man for me. And unfortunately, kept dating guys who were afraid of commitment or disappeared without a word or came on so strongly at the beginning and then changed their minds. Or were so damaged by their pasts, they couldn't trust anyone new enough to have a healthy relationship. Or some combination of those. It was the norm. It was my only experience with dating and what I thought I deserved. I could see all the other ways, the good relationships, the fairytales in my mind, but I couldn't attain them. I was always so disappointed and discouraged. Then came the time when no one was interested in dating me at all and if I even had a crush on someone, suddenly they were with someone else. Worse if they showed interest in me and I thought we were starting something, then nope. They have a new girlfriend (and a few times - she's pregnant). Lovely. Out of the blue, just like that? Every time. I felt like I was cursed. Like "Good Luck Chuck" without all the fun stuff first. I felt like everything was being taken away from me and my life was just a big joke. And then I had to watch everyone else, everyone younger than me get married and have kids...it's painful.

More heartbreak, low self-esteem, life traumas, etc. The past 10 years have not been kind. But there are good people in my life and the past 2 years have taught me a lot about myself. I had to rearrange my whole outlook on the future after my last relationship. Pick up the pieces put them back in a different way. I'm still hurting. But I know what I need and what I won't put up with anymore. I had to change. It's not all good things inside of me, but there's a strength that wasn't there before. I can walk away and not compromise. Not let myself be mistreated. Now you either value me or stay out of my life. Love me or leave me alone...

It's time to break the cycle.

False Prophets

"Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves." (Matthew 7:15)

"We all, we all, we all have sorry hearts..." - Blue October/5591

Pieces of my thoughts:

You know how if you're having a nightmare and when you first wake up it still feels real and your heart's beating fast and you have to calm yourself down and tell yourself that it was just a dream? And maybe you're afraid to go back to sleep right away because you might dream about it again?

That's how anxiety is, except you're awake. And sometimes you can't calm yourself back down, no matter how much you tell yourself it's not real. You know rationally that it's not actually happening but your brain won't let you believe it. It keeps circling back to: "Oh my God, it's going to happen, it's going to happen." You FEEL it.

Obsessive thoughts.

I don't like them. Mostly I get the anxiety where I feel everything. Where everything hurts, physically. But for the past year I've had the thoughts too. Stark fear. I don't like it. Is it because I've been off medication for more than a year? Or because of all the dating mishaps, all the broken pieces I had to put back together in the past year? Or because I had something very real to lose...that I was afraid to lose...that I did lose. Holding on doesn't keep someone who wants to go away. Love means nothing. Words mean nothing. And nothing again.

It was a combination of things, I suppose. It doesn't matter. This is my life, I have to live it. This is reality, I have to deal with it.

I got past the worst of it. I was ready to move on, open that new door. And the one behind me opened again. He came out. He came back to me as the man I prayed for him to become. He was better. I actually started to believe...

But I was wrong. A wolf in sheep's clothing? Coming back as everything I ever wanted? Or maybe I was meant to see it, meant to hear the loving words, meant to get the answers I sought all of those empty months. And meant to process through my own feelings, the unresolved things. And the things I already knew. I didn't go back...but I wanted to. I would have. I needed him to prove that he really was that man, that things changed. I needed him to be there for me this time. I really needed him to be there. But he disappeared. It's what he does. I know this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let myself open up again. He's my weakness...and I love him. But I respect myself too much to get back into a situation that will hurt me...again. I don't know why this happened, why he came back if he had no intention of staying. If he couldn't make an effort for more than a few days. Did he feel rejected because I didn't jump at the chance to be with him and fall in line with what he wanted? Is that what all these other little girls did? That's not me. I needed time. I was honest. Did it matter? Does it matter now? What is the point of this?

I didn't need extra stress, not now. He came back the week before my surgery. I had so much to deal with already. Why would he put me through that when he knew? And treat me the way he did before, when he said he was wrong to do that before.

I'm so sick of it. I'm sick of this. I'm so tired. Tired of men, tired of false hope, tired of blood, tired of pain, tired of being tired and afraid. I'm afraid. I don't know what's in the future. Will I ever have kids? Will I ever have a stable life? Will the good things ever stay?

Please let the good things stay. Please help me. Please give me a reason.

I'm so tired of feeling sick and in pain every day. I didn't post anything (on FB) about my surgery two weeks ago because I didn't want to explain or go into details. The thought of it brought me terror and I barely talked about it. Two months of fear before it. For the reason and the act. The day of was scary and overwhelming and I had a panic attack (I don't like needles). I thought I was healing afterward but it's apparently going to take a lot of time. I barely have the strength to do anything at all and I'm too vulnerable and my mind feels broken. Abandonment issues. My anxiety makes me worry about everyone else to the extreme, every day. It's too much inside. I'm so tired of all of these hits and tests and trials and heartbreaks. Can I be done now?

I am grateful for things. My family and friends who have helped me and accommodated me. The fact that I can take off work on the worst days and stay in bed and rest. That there's someone who can take over for me. I'm grateful for health insurance. I just looked up the amount of the bills for the checkups and lab tests and surgery procedure...it was in the thousands. I'm grateful for music...Small Town Titans, Blue October, so many others. Ashleigh Stone, who inspired me. Tufstrings (Ryan D.)'s album, which has been the soundtrack of my nights. "PRN" was what got me through and out of that panic attack. I'm very visual...I could picture the notes and rhythms, see him "stomp" the way he did at the shows. It worked. Music saves me, every day.

I was ready to move on, ready to start down a different path. Maybe I wasn't meant to go that way. Maybe that's why this all happened. I don't know. I don't understand. More questions, less answers. Or maybe I'm not asking the right questions...

Maybe I'm where I'm supposed to be. I do know that the point of this health matter was to find it early and remove the affected area before it got worse. I know it was necessary.

Why did he come back? So that I could know that I was loved? That I wasn't wrong - everything I believed before, my faith, was true? Ok, I know it now. Maybe he'll come back...he always comes back. Maybe we all just need more time. God needs more time to work. I need time to heal. He needs? Time to become ready? For what I need? It's possible for him to become that man. I know it. I still believe in him. But I know what I deserve and I can't accept less.

I don't know where I am or what I want. I know who I am but I'm not that person right now. I'm not at my best. This goes beyond my "ugly side" but that's there too. Not much of a game face lately. Depression comes and goes.

My dog is here...I love her so much. She's a handful and has worse anxiety issues than me. But she's here. I'm grateful for the kids, my niece and nephew. I miss them. That was my routine, taking care of them. And I can't handle it right now. I miss Carter too.

I'm tired. But can't sleep. I feel lost and confused. I want things to be right. Good things to stay. Better days. Time passes.

And maybe time forgets. (Deep Ella song)

I'm second-guessing myself, having doubts. But writing helps.

Praying for better days ahead. And the strength to do what needs to be done.

A new year, starting now...

Written on June 23, 2015:

Today's my 37th birthday. Most people don't know how old I am because I look younger than I am. I always have. I didn't really realize it until I was 13 and someone thought I was 10 years old. Not what someone just starting their teenage years wants to hear. My most important young milestones were marred by incorrect assumptions and careless attitudes by people who seemed eager to tell me just what they thought of me: when I was 16, I looked like "a little kid". Not very sweet. On my 18th birthday celebration, someone I just met said she thought I was 12. Really? That felt cruel at the time. Also the fact that guys my age thought the same, that I was young and boring and not worth the time. Any time throughout the past 2 decades that I told anyone my age, they gave me "that look" and either didn't believe me or thought something was wrong with me. So, birthdays (and my age, specifically) have not been something I talk about or look forward to. I'm an introvert, so all the attention is hard to handle as well. And my dog, Lazy, died on my 33rd birthday, so that's another reason to feel some dread at the approach. Bad memories.

But today, I had an epiphany: why not look at it as a new year, a new start this time. People always say to have a great year, because a birthday is a mark of another year of life. I never really looked at it as a New Year type of thing though. But why not? The first 6 months of this year have been terrible, heartbreaking. So why can't the next 6 months be better...a new chapter, a new year. I can look at it that way.

It's not Black or White to me

Do people who think they know me, actually know me?

Thinking...about the conversation with my Aunt Star (the year before she died?), where we discussed my hesitation to the idea of dating white guys. Not for lack of attraction or connection or anything else, but because of the way I grew up - the town, the school, the cliques and racist undertones of everything. Feeling like an outsider, always different. I didn't want to deal with more of that. Likely, racism against me from the other person's family and friends or judgment from everyone else, society. I just wanted to avoid the possibility of it happening. I was done with that stuff. I didn't live there anymore, but those fears followed me, even in the land of diversity and acceptance. All types of guys (especially Black) talked to me in KOP. But I took a chance, 2 years after she died, and asked a guy out, a white guy at work. It was not a good relationship, but had nothing to do with race, just our personalities clashing.

Would she be proud of me? For trying and being more open? For standing up for myself at that job, even though I got reprimanded? I think so. She was strong.

I talked to different races over the years, tried to date when I had a connection. So many false starts. And moving back to here, the town where I grew up...away from the diversity of Philly. Here...you're expected to be a certain way. And I never fit in. In school times, anyway. But I don't care now.

So, ten years (moved away and back) of being "single" and finally I have a romantic relationship again? With an older white guy. Then a younger white guy. Black guys around here don't seem interested enough to make a move. And the 2 that did (in 2012), weren't from around here anyway. But, it didn't work out. I can't be made to feel bad about myself...that won't make me date you. And you can't talk bad about my family, all the races and skin colors, the kids. No. We are who we are. It was a surprise that the white guys in this area were so interested in me. Never was an option in the past. Maybe it became like a victory to me...I was finally beautiful to them. Not just the shy little black girl. So why not take what was offered? If I feel it, I feel it.

People think they know me. My "preference"? Based on recent years. No, that's not it. I prefer color. I'm attracted to contrast of skin and hair with interesting features. Dark hair and dark eyes. Ethnic-looking. Tall. I'd rather have a big guy than someone too thin. But have I dated a guy with all that? Not really. I'm not searching for some ideal person. Looks aren't anything. Personality, humor, intelligence...those qualities matter. Race, religion, job...it doesn't determine how I feel about someone. And what I feel is what determines who you are to me. If I love you...

But people don't ask, they don't notice. They don't look back and follow the whole story of me. They look at one chapter, what they think it means, what it means to them. I see it. No one said it yet. This time. But I see it. Or maybe I'm just paranoid. Maybe no one even cares anymore. I'm trying not to care.

Do you know what it means to me? I follow my heart. I do what I feel is right for me at the time. If it's this person, then it's this person. If I don't feel a connection with someone, then I'm not going to do it, I won't settle. I've given too many chances because someone was "nice" and I didn't see a reason not to date them, or try. But the feelings don't materialize. It's just not there. I'm honest about my feelings. I won't let anyone pressure me. But I'm not cruel, I don't play games and dump people. I don't like to hurt anyone. Because I hurt so much.

I try. I keep trying. But...I think I can't right now. I'm not whole. And my heart isn't my own, not yet. But I know I need to make changes. Also, not let the bitterness and anger in. Not become that person. It's in me. But I won't become that.

My first boyfriend...that beautiful Black man with the perfect smile and best laugh. The southern accent. My music man. He was one of the nicest and classiest people I've ever met. Maybe no one can compare to that. I saw a future with him. Didn't happen, we were too young and he didn't want to get serious. Faded away. He went back home. It was hard for me. Took 3 years to breathe again, try again. I did. But I don't even remember dates back then, who, when.

So much hope. For that person who would want what I wanted and understand me. I don't think I found anyone like that, until this last time. He wasn't white...he didn't identify as white, he didn't sound white, he wasn't from this country, his "family" was black, his friends. But everyone who sees the photos or met him will say white. It doesn't matter. And yes, he was totally gorgeous. It was nice to have that for once - the wild attraction, the butterflies when I looked at him. But his humor outshone it all. He changed me, inspired me, helped me see that future again, so much more this time. I was loved. I thought my time had come. Finally, a child? A husband? All the trying, the pain, the heartbreaks, led to this. He erased it all, and every man who came before. They didn't matter. He was my Joseph. But...that all went away too. It wasn't my time, he wasn't the man. Was he? I was so sure. I believed. My faith was strong. I wasn't wrong. I did everything I was meant to do. But. He's gone. I wasn't the one for him, in the end. So short of a time. I wasn't ready. I wasn't done. But.

Keep moving forward. Am I? I'm healing, the days are getting better. But still, it hurts.

Bleed Out. That was my life for too long. Months that felt like years. The highest of highs, the lowest of lows. I understand so much more. I lived so much in a short period of time. I learned so much. A different world.

If he listened to Blue October...if he understood what Justin had been through and has become now, would it help him? There are so many similarities with their lives and behaviors. I believed in him. I still believe in him. And I know it's possible...the kind of man he can be. The kind of life he could have. I tried to give it to him. Show him my world. Maybe it was too much, not right, not time. I don't know. But I made him happy. I helped him when he was in need. He loved talking to me, said he was blessed to have me. Someone else said I was a gift. I have all of that in my heart. I did that, I was that. Those are good things.

I'll be ok. I'm always ok, right? Even when I'm not. I want to get on the right path again. Focus, not keep thinking and dwelling on this and looking at other people's paths. I'm trying to make it all make sense in my head so my heart can cope with it. It doesn't yet.

I can't trust myself yet. I'm distant from others. Guarding my heart. Distrustful of happiness. It'll take time. I'm wounded and vulnerable and low on patience. It'll take time.

Fears and worries, self-sabotage. Trying not to let them in. It's hard though, especially when anxiety kicks in. But, that's the fight. I fight.

Do you know me yet?

My heart...

Having a hard time today. Too many thoughts, too many feelings. I want to cry or rage or scream. Even in my dreams I'm frustrated and hurting and confused. I'm so paranoid. Wondering what people say, worrying what people are saying, thinking. How stupid I am for dating the guys I dated. Different races, different ages -- but not the "right" ones. For trying and believing and being nice and compassionate. Not being mean enough or letting the evil thoughts out. Not being what I could be, what I've been in the past. I don't want to be that person again. I don't like feeling that way -- the toxicity, the drama. I don't like hurting people, I don't like confrontations and fights. I'll do it if it comes to that, if too much builds up and I snap. If I have to get my point across. But why am I going to start out like that? Can't I be mature and handle it in a different way? Work things out, have a discussion that's productive? Why is trying to be a good person a bad thing? Why do I want to cause someone to be mad at me and attack back? That's not pleasant. Arguing is not fun for me. I don't like to debate. Is that all that's accepted in this world? All that people know? If they're close to God, shouldn't they be working on being patient and kind and using compassion and mercy themselves? Shouldn't they want to behave better and move their lives forward? Am I the only one who can see that? They claim to be further ahead than this in me, more developed, more devoted, but they think I shouldn't be so good? I'm not nearly good enough, nowhere near righteous. I'm still learning, just becoming who I can be. Finding my purpose. I keep falling off the path. Sometimes I just don't even want to fight anymore or try anymore. My body, my mind, my soul, won't let me give up. I conditioned myself so well these past few years. So now, even without medication, I pull myself up quickly. Out of the dark. I don't want to, I want to stay there where it's easy and comfortable. But I can't. I can't give up.

Am I weak? Am I strong? I don't know what I am. Getting better but still so broken inside that I can barely breathe. What's wrong with me? There's something so wrong with me. I feel like no one can really see it. No one can fix me, no one can save me. Sometimes I think it'd be such a relief if I did go into the hospital -- at least I could relax and let go and stop pretending to be ok, stop being strong and functional. Just completely let go and let someone take care of me. What's that like, when someone takes care of your every need? I haven't had that, not since I was very young. I've been taking care of myself, fixing myself, keeping these secrets and all the darkness within. No one wanted to hear about it or see it. Even as an adult, people don't want to know or deal with it, with me. Too much trouble. They say they're worried about me, but they just want me to get better so they don't have to worry or be uncomfortable. They're not really going to take on my burden or help me. They want me to help them, tell them I'm ok so they can walk away and feel better. That's not what I need. I need you to be there for ME. Look at me and really see me, see all the scary parts and still stay. Stay.

I guess that's the problem now, again. I feel abandoned. He didn't stay, he can't stay. None of them stay. Why do they come into my life and make me happy and inspire me and make me believe and then not want me anymore? How do they just turn off their feelings like that? There was something there, something everyone could see, but then it's gone? Changes, changes, changes. I don't change. I'm loyal, steady, permanent. I love forever. Unconditionally. Everyone has conditions, boundaries. They won't hold on, they won't fight the way I do. They run away. I didn't. Even when I wanted to leave, when I endured so much. Tested, tried, stretched out, met my limit again and again and surpassed it. It was right. I stayed because God told me to. Keep trying. This whole relationship was guided on faith. Maybe no one can understand that or believe me. Maybe I was just foolish. But I didn't make these choices based soley on love or fairytale ideas. Love isn't always enough. I knew the reality, I knew the consequences, I knew how much these challenges were hurting me. But went through it, got through it, with the hope that things would get better. The situation was a trial, but situations can change. It was supposed to change. It didn't get more stable, but the good still outweighed the bad. We grew stronger, we learned. And so I kept trying. Until I had nothing left to give...then gave a little more. I held it together, but it crumbled in my hands. Things didn't get better, they only got worse. He didn't fix it or fight for it like I hoped, like I prayed. I was the only one fighting, the only one trying, the only one giving. He was going through a bad time, so I still tried to understand. But he chose a different path...his old path, his old life. I wanted to keep moving forward. He was my future. But those dreams died. And now I walk alone, once again. Carrying those broken dreams. Like the W.B. Yeats poem...but he didn't tread lightly.

Did I settle too much? Allow the situation too much leeway because of mental health issues and past traumas? Did I try too hard to be too much? To try to be his rock, his champion, his savior, his support, his family? Don't we all need that sometimes? I do. I wanted him to be that for me too...be there for me and fight for me and not give up on me no matter how bad it gets. I wanted that. And I was capable of giving that so I did. I was gentle, I was kind, I was loving. Sometimes I let the anger and hurt slip out. And we discussed things. Three hours worth of discussion things. The distance was hard, but I tried my best to be there. I drove, even through my fears. But it's my fears that make me seen as weak. My anxiety and issues. So minor compared to his...and hers. But yet, too much. God, I tried so hard, gave so much. And maybe that's the problem. What did he sacrifice for me? I gave him all of me. I gave him my family...and they loved him. He fit, he was a part. There was so much more to come. I believed it could work, against all odds. I thought he believed that too. But...things changed. Everything changed.

I can understand. I can see the logic. I understand that you can't control your emotions. I acknowledge his pain and fear. I know what fear can do. I haven't experienced what he experienced, I don't have a similar background. But I have empathy and compassion. He wanted me to know him, so I know him. Does he know me? More so than he did. But maybe it doesn't matter. I did all I was meant to do. I did what I needed to do. I was appreciated. I didn't do it for him. I will continue doing good. I will probably continue to question and be confused, but I will do what I'm asked to do. I will try to live my life right, better. I have to walk my own path now, focus on making myself better. Focus on building a new future. Maybe my destiny is to just be alone, helping others, getting them to where they need to be. Then they move on. All that loss has a cost though. And I'm not happy. I'm grieving. The loss of this. My grandparents, my dog, Lazy. My birthday's coming up and it will be four years. It's hard. We just lost too much, too many in such a short time. My mom is hurting and that hurts me too. It all goes inside of me, all the pain. People think I haven't been through something as bad as they have, but I have lost a lot, I have suffered. And I take all of their pain and loss and grief and fear...and my family's, and my own. Add all that up. Isn't that enough? There will always be something worse. And once I know about it, it will become a part of me too. If you suffer, I suffer with you, just by reading your words, hearing your voice. Isn't that enough? It doesn't end. The good things end, but the bad things continue on.

I'm so tired. I'm still feeling insecure. But I will post this one. Because I need to take that step. And maybe it will all matter. I believe in miracles. I believe that anything's possible.

I pray for someone I love to love me enough and accept me enough to stay...for those 30+ years to eternity. No more words, no more intentions, no promises. Only action. Prove it. And keep proving it. I was a good girlfriend. And I know I can be a good wife. I feel like I was living the vows already. I am worth the effort. And you'll never have to doubt that you are loved. I know how to prove it. I have so much in my heart.

But I still love him. I can't change that. I wish he could be all the things he once was. All that I could see in him. I still believe in him, that he's better than his circumstances, better than his past. That he can have a bright future and do so much good in this world. Be righteous like he said he wanted to be. He inspired me in that way. My mom said he has a good heart...I'll always believe that. I saw it in action. I loved him for it. I'll continue to pray for him. But I can't be a part of his life. He doesn't want me there anyway.

What do I want? It doesn't matter. What is meant to be will be. Time will heal, time will let go. I have to go. Where? Where I need to be, I guess.

The Compassion Switch

"True compassion is not just an emotional response but a firm commitment founded on reason. Therefore, a truly compassionate attitude towards others does not change even if they behave negatively." - Dalai Lama

I've been working on compassion...trying to react to situations with love rather than defensiveness or anger or frustration. Showing mercy...giving, loving, helping when someone least deserves it. It's very hard sometimes. I fall, I fail, I still have grudges. I'm not able to do it for everyone yet. Maybe I'm not supposed to.

I'm unsure everyday of what I should do. I seek guidance. I need help. I'm the giver...but I need to be given.

I don't know if it's possible for any person to help me, love me, take care of me the way I need it. No one has tried. Not completely, whole-heartedly tried. I am cared for when there is extra time, when they have extra to give. There are other focuses in their lives, other priorities. That's the way it is. I don't come first...I never have. I take care of myself because I'm the only one who will, always. I've learned that. What choice do I have? If I reach out and they turn away...or worse yet, minimize or belittle my suffering, what choice do I have but to take care of myself? I've been "making myself better", fixing myself since I was 14. I asked for help but help was not given. So I developed a game face, learned how to appear human and well. Even now, people see me smile and say I look so happy. It's ridiculous really, how easy it is to fool people. Without even trying, just by coping. Sad that they can't see behind the smile. They won't look.

Some do...some see it. I have lots of support, lots of people who let me know I'm not alone. I reach out, I vent. I don't keep it all inside like I used to. I do better now. I have healed in some areas. I still have a long way to go. And I don't trust easily. I protect people from the worst of me. I minimize the seriousness of the pain. Not everyone can handle it. And sometimes I get tired of explaining.

Who wants to know, really? I do. I like getting to know people, issues and all. But I'm strange. I like to help. I'm able to even when I'm suffering myself. I have a switch...or a lever. I can be so low, so in need, barely hanging on...but if I encounter someone else in need, my compassion switches on. I feel the lever lock, click, and my strength builds. I can tell them what they need to hear...I can listen, support, be there for them. I felt it yesterday. I felt my body do this. My mind opened. I was consciously aware of it. How much I can do is not much. My strength was still very low, my mind was not clear. But I'm able to be a friend, compassionate, merciful, loving. It's easy to care when someone is hurting. Family, friend, stranger, animal. It's easy to have sympathy and empathy and compassion. It's easy for me to help others when I cannot help myself. That's why that saying is so ridiculous to me: how can you help/take care of someone else if you don't help/take care of yourself first. And the other, how can you love someone else if you don't love yourself. It's easy. It's so easy, I do it every day. Love is love...how I feel about someone else is not based on my mood. It's just there. It comes out of me, regardless. It used to make me so mad and frustrated when people said those things. They just don't GET IT. They think I'm wrong for arguing, because their way is right, in their minds it's not possible. But it is. I do it all the time. Other friends do it all the time. We put aside our own needs and help someone we love. We do what needs to be done. Out of love, out of kindness, out of need. So how is it not possible if we just did it? How did we love someone else and inspire them and help them out of their low place when we were low ourselves? How did I take care of my niece when I had a kidney stone or bad cramps or pain from ovarian cysts or when my world was falling apart in October? I could barely function, barely feed myself, my mind was SCREAMING, but I still took care of someone else. Because that's what you do. You put aside your own pain and you help someone else in need. Even if it's not a responsibility, even if it's not a necessity, if I see my friend hurting, I automatically want to help. So I try. I give what I can. I have to...I have to try. Because, what if I'm the only one who does? What if I'm the only thing standing between life and death. I can't let them die, I can't let them suffer and be lost if I can stop it. I have to help. And beyond that, I want to help. It's a need. It's my nature. Maybe it's not healthy to put someone else first so often but that's the initial reaction. It hurts me more if I don't help.

But I realize now that not everyone has that need, that level of compassion and overwhelming empathy. And even if they do, even if they want to help, they may be unable. They don't have that switch that lets them turn off their problems and give that strength to someone else. They don't have it to give. They have to focus on their own issues and help themselves because that's what they need to do. They can't help anyone else, they have nothing left. Because I am able, it's hard to understand when others don't help or turn away. I reached out yesterday...I needed him...but he couldn't help. Because his own needs were too great. I know this, I know he's struggling, more than me. I know this and I love him, so my compassion switch turned on. I had a moment of disappointment and hopelessness, then my strength increased and my focus was on easing his suffering. I don't know if I did, I don't know if I helped. Maybe I made it worse by being too helpful, too controlling, too smothering, too nurturing. I just offered my support, my love, my time. Those are good things. But some people find that off-putting. I try to fix things and they don't want to be fixed. That was the past, one person who had a problem with me. But he didn't love me, didn't accept me or understand me. This is now, this is different. He does understand. He does love me and accept me and know me. But still...I don't know. I got scared that he was in a bad way, scared that I could lose him, so I held on...gave all I had to give. He didn't take it, didn't reply. I can't let that matter. I gave my all, I tried. It's all I can do. I tried. He knows I'm here. Maybe I shouldn't be. Maybe it's too much...too much pain and instability for me. But this is what I'm supposed to do now. There's a reason for this. I have to stay true to that, that faith.

I'm hurting. My heart is hurting, my brain is hurting. Because I lost a friend. And I didn't even know he was gone. He died in October and I didn't even know. I didn't find out until Saturday night. How did I not know? No one told me because they didn't know we were close. And how close could we have been if it took me 4 months to check up on him? How did I not know? All these months. My friend is gone forever and I didn't even know. I was in shock and disbelief until yesterday...then I cried. But it still doesn't seem real. And who can I talk to about it, who can I ask. Everyone else has been grieving for 4 months, they've moved forward. Mine is just starting, like it just happened. But it didn't. He's been gone this whole time. I feel stupid and guilty...I didn't do enough, wasn't there enough, didn't love enough, didn't talk enough. I remember his voice, I do. He helped me, he gave me different perspectives. He understood the struggle with depression, anxiety. He got it. He had it. So many problems. But I thought he was ok, I thought he was still out there. How did I not know? He's gone forever. I could never have handled it if I found out the week it happened. I was in a bad place, already barely functional. Like I said, my mind was screaming. I already lost something. I couldn't have handled another loss. But all these months? I don't know. It's hard to feel this helpless. What can I do now? He's gone.

Where is my life going? I don't want to think about that. I put so much pressure on myself. I'm trying to change things, move forward, do right. I'm struggling. I'm unsure. I know what needs to be done, but a lot is still questionable. I gave too much and let too much happen. I thought it was right...it was right. Is it still the right thing to do? To stay, to hold on? He's not holding on to me. How much longer can I fool myself. But it's a bad time and bad times can get better. I don't give up. But I can't stay in this place. I can't continue to be unhealthy. It's not my fight. He has to make his changes, he has to work on things. And I have to step away and work on myself. I try too hard and give too much to everyone else. I keep trying and trying and trying. But not forever. I deserve more. I deserve to be held and cherished and fought for. Shown love. I understand that the illness is preventing that right now. I understand. I'm trying to understand. Compassion and mercy. I am very tired though. And I keep forgetting, other people keep forgetting, I'm doing all of this without medication. It's hard. And this is the first S.A.D. season without it. The first fall/winter since the year after my aunt died. I was on antidepressants for 8 years. I've only been off for 7 months. I'm still learning how to cope without that backup. It's going to take time, it's going to be hard. I lost a lot of weight. It's not going back on so easily. My appetite is low, having blood sugar problems. I don't look the way I want to look. I can't afford to lose any more...I don't want to be sick all the time again. This isn't healthy for me. I know. I have to make changes. I have to keep the negative things from affecting me this way. I'm doing my best. Maybe I need to do better. Or different. Take some time away from trying so hard. I can still be compassionate and supportive and take care of myself too.

Let go...let God. Trust that it will all work out. Have faith in what I cannot see. Believe, pray. I have to do what feels right to me. Try.

Strength and healing...writing through the fog

I feel like I haven't let writing do its job to heal me. And maybe that's because it hasn't. I wrote 3 blog posts...September, October, January...that were not published. Saved as drafts, for my eyes only. Full of heartache and fear and introspection. They were too personal to my situation, at the time, to be made public. But the words needed to be said...the pain needed to come out. Maybe one day I'll publish them, or at least, talk about those situations. But no need to revisit that now.

I went through a lot of trials and tests in 2014. I was broken, shattered, hopeless. Loved and rejected. Lost and found. I was taken to the edge, surpassed my limits. But I endured. Somehow, I always do. I pick myself back up, put myself back together, try again. Keep going. Keep "graceful dancing". I don't know why God gave me this strength, but I am grateful. I'm still here. I became a different person after all I went through. Each time, I built something. I thought it was a test of the relationship, of the bonds between myself and others, but I know now, that it was a test of my strength and character. It may seem a minor feat or experience to someone else, these things I had to accept or work through in my head, my heart. But it was hard for me, it was new and difficult. I had no experience, no frame of reference to understand some of these things. To cope. To get past it and keep moving forward. And I'm an emotional being - I feel everything so intensely and completely and it doesn't go away. I can't turn it off. And I feel what others feel too...so it's all inside of me, all the time. It's overwhelming. It's painful. Sometimes I wish I didn't feel anything. But then I wouldn't be me.

It's important to be me, right? God chose me for this, gave me this life, these things to overcome. It's a struggle to stay sane sometimes. Right now, the anxiety is trying to take over. It wins sometimes. Yesterday, today, I can't regulate my emotions, I can't be rational about rational things. I get upset and afraid and blow things out of proportion...and worry, worry, worry. I feel like everything I say and do is wrong. Bad things happen, accidents, mistakes...and that proves it. I know better, in my head. But I feel like all of the bad things are true. It's a fog that comes over me, like depression. I was down over the weekend, let thoughts get to me, situations out of my control. Let others' opinions matter too much, let fears take over. Analyze, analyze, analyze. I'm better than this, than that. I know this. But when you're in that state, this state I'm in NOW, your brain lies to you. All of THAT is true. But what's actually true, isn't, doesn't exist in the fog. But I can tell myself what's real most of the time. I can calm myself down or make myself escape into sleep. Sometimes that's the only way. But when I'm awake and thinking...then it's a problem. It can be dangerous, the things my brain tells me to do...or shows me, I should say. Options, possibilities. But they feel like they're really happening. That's the G.A.D. anxiety. Fear of everything and anything happening. There are triggers, sure. But if it's a chemical imbalance or hormonal or as a result of Seasonal Affective Disorder symptoms, then it just happens. It's just there. And the other stuff that happens just enhances it. It's like a hot surface...ok by itself, but you flick something flammable at it or set something on top of it or touch it, then you have a reaction. But even in the quiet times, when the thoughts aren't so bad or so immediate, the pain is there. Physical pain. I don't know why. The struggle with maintaining your game face? Keeping yourself sane? Telling yourself what is instead of letting the fear win? From doing mundane activities and responsibilities when you should be in bed recovering? I don't know, I guess all of those. I'm just very tired and very achy and my head hurts. I had anxiety in the grocery store - fears, thoughts of the future, wondering if I'm lacking, if I'll be enough for him, if the life I want will happen. Or will everything be taken away again? It was triggered by little things...a slogan on a t-shirt that made me think of another conversation and other possibilities. Anxiety is built on "what if". That's all it is - what if this happens or what if that's what they meant when they said that or what if they took what I said the wrong way and now they hate me. And the "what ifs" become real, become "this is". Constantly borrowing trouble. Achieving failure in advance. Over and over. In and out, up and down. Until I can get through the fog and see the truth.

People who don't experience this think it's easy to just think happy thoughts or stop thinking altogether. You can change your thinking, but it's a struggle, it takes effort and training and it's NOT easy. I know the truth, but I can't always feel the truth. There's something blocking that. And I need to be able to feel. I use my intuition, my instincts. They're always right, never wrong. You can say it's God guiding me, or whatever. I feel that. And I need that.

It helps to reflect on things and examine them and work through them - for me, anyway. I have friends who I trust and lean on and vent to when I need to talk to someone. Otherwise, I'd just keep it all inside. That's not healthy. But there are times when I have to face it on my own and make a decision based on what's best for my life. Because I'm the one who has to live it. I get so sick of myself sometimes...but I can't escape me. I have to be here with me everyday. I'm grateful for all that I have. I'm grateful for all those who love me when I don't deserve it...and when I do. I'm grateful for all the good times and good things and good people in my life. I'm grateful that I got to experience love and being loved and everything else in the past (almost) 4 months. I pray for the future I envision, for more good to come. For the life, for the love, for us. Family. I just pray for God to keep us all safe, to take care of me and help me and guide me through this. I'm doing the best that I can, as I am. I've accomplished much. I am strong. I am loving. I am a good person. I have to keep trying. I know this.

I know there will be more tests and obstacles and challenges. I thought 2015 would magically be better and all of those things would go away. That overcoming hardships at the beginning of a journey would ensure a happy ending. That I'd suddenly know what I needed to do for my finances and my health and my future and everything else. I thought it would be easier now, that certain things would be revealed to me. Maybe they have, in a different way than I expected. And I'm still learning how to see them. Maybe they're not easier...but they're easier for me to handle (accept, navigate, etc.) because I'm stronger now. I've been through situations that have prepared me for future situations. They still hurt, they're still difficult or frustrating, but I'm able to bounce back quicker, or maybe they barely touch me. I'm still afraid, because you never know what the future will be like. Some things have shaken me and made me reevaluate, but I'm trying to have faith. What happened in other people's lives won't necessarily happen in mine. And what happened in my past is past. This is a new set of rules. Believe. Keep holding on, keep trying, keep living. Don't anticipate pain or borrow trouble. Deal with the now. Accept what I can. Change what I am able.

See, I know. It's just hard to make it manifest inside myself sometimes. Love is powerful...it can make us do all sorts of things we never thought we were capable of. But so is strength. I have become more than I thought possible. I'm proud of myself. I know that I will become stronger and more capable. I know there is a plan for me, a path for me. I will be the best that I can be. As much as I am able.

Writing this helped. I still feel very tired and there's still so much inside. The fog hasn't lifted yet and it may be days before it does. And with no meds...this is hard. But I'm trying to be better. This time of year is just difficult for me. And it has been oh, so challenging. I'm a private person and I don't put much of myself out there for everyone to see. It's hard for me to say things. I'm not always understood or accepted. I'm not always seen. Sometimes I don't want to be seen. I can't change my nature. I am who I am, I think what I think, I feel what I feel. It just is. But I can adapt and be open to new things. I can evolve and improve. I know so much now, I have a different perspective on many things in this world. I'm glad that I've seen different worlds, met different kinds of people. And there's so much more that can be explored and visited. I need the chance. And then I'll take it. Living for opportunities and living my life while I have it.

There's more I could say. And maybe I could help someone else by sharing more of my story. And I'll write more, another time. This was what I needed to do now. Maybe a few will read it and understand...maybe no one will. It's convoluted and segues into many facets of my thoughts and some parts only someone who I've told about my experiences will understand. That doesn't matter though, because I needed to do this for me. This is where I am, this is who I am. Maybe I'll listen to some Blue tonight. That's music therapy. But I definitely need to sleep.

Thank you for listening...