Adventures in Love

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” - Mark Twain Hi. I'm Ashley, it's nice to meet you or see you again if we've already met. Welcome to my blog, I hope you enjoy the stories of my adventures with my partner in crime, Alec, as I try to understand life, love, and everything else. :)

[violingurl1999]

Talk Thirty To Me

I was terrified of turning 30. For years, I had this notion that I wasn’t going to live to see 30, so the days leading up to my birthday were rather nerve wracking.

Despite COVID upsetting my original plans, my birthday was wonderful, and, a few days later, I started to feel really good about my age.

I had read something that said that your thirties are when you truly come to peace with who you are. And a friend echoed that sentiment, by telling me that she’s truly loved her thirties more than her twenties. 

And, so far, I think I feel the same way. 

I had a lot of great accomplishments and reached wonderful milestones in my twenties, but I also spent a great deal of time feeling terrible about myself and worried about what the future was going to look like. I’m hoping that my thirties allow me to be more at ease with who I am, and that I’m able to relax more and enjoy my life. 

One thing I have noticed is that I am more in touch with my body and my brain. Of course, I’ve spent the last decade working at managing my anxiety and trying to improve my health. But I’ve learned what my triggers are, my limitations, and the reasons behind why my body reacts to things as it does. Stress is my worst nightmare; it gives me migraines and makes my digestive tract useless.  

I’m happy at where I am in life, regardless of how many times I say otherwise or how many tears I cry because I’m stupidly comparing myself to others. I’m looking forward to the next decade. I’ll be interested to see what I’m like at 40. 

[violingurl1999]

Do I stay, or do I go (back to work)?

I have been without a job for a month and a half. It’s been an internal struggle, but, at the same time, it’s been an incredible mental relief. 

I’ve been fighting guilt for not working, because I feel lazy... though I’ve been actively doing projects around my home and continuing with my volunteer work with the theater. I think a lot of my feelings stem back to when I was working, and hearing my old coworkers complain about people on unemployment. I feel ashamed for collecting unemployment, like I’m doing something wrong. 

I quit my job on May 29th because of my anxiety. I was having terrible, almost daily, panic attacks and anxiety about leaving the house, and I was routinely late for work because of it. 

Looking back, I realize that my being late was also a reflection of how I felt when I was at work, and how little I wanted to be there. I loved my job, but it got to a point where I couldn’t handle the environment and the atmosphere anymore. 

And, it wasn’t just from COVID. Though, that certainly put some weight on the decision. 

I actually have a job interview today. And I’m torn. I’m 50/50 in wanting to go to the interview. I keep applying to jobs that I know I could do partly out of an obligation that I feel like I need to get a job ASAP. But... I’m not ready. 

I can barely handle being in a department store for more than 30 minutes, so I’m trying to imagine a scenario where I’m working an 8-hour job that I can’t leave. I did have an interview last week at a place that had really great COVID-precautions, and I felt safe there. So, I think that it’s possible for me to find a place to work right now, but I also feel like I need a little more time. 

I want to find a company that I believe in, that I want to work for, that inspires me and fulfills me everyday. I’m scared that, if I don’t get accept a job soon, that I’ll miss out on a good position, but, at the same time, I also feel like the job that’s for me hasn’t shown it’s face yet. And then... there’s the ugly face of COVID and germs that is making me just want to stay home in a plastic bubble. 

Alec keeps reminding me that I’m not alone in how I’m feeling, and that future employers aren’t going to think poorly of me for not having a job right now. But, I’m still afraid. 

I kind of feel how I did eight years ago when I was fresh out of college. Not certain what I’m going to do with my life or how I’m going to get there. 

However, now I know that I absolutely LOVE nonprofits, and if I could find one to work for, I’d be thrilled. Additionally, I know that I have a talent in the clerical world and, as I’ve always known, I’m a quick learner. 

Someone will hire me when they are supposed to hire me, and I’ll go back to work when it’s the right time for me to go back to work. I just hate all of the uncertainties. And... I’m not supposed to fortune-tell or worry, so it’s quite the journey to try and sit back, relax and wait. 

I think a part of me also keeps dreaming that the perfect job will just magically appear. And who knows? Maybe it will. 

[violingurl1999]

I love elephants, but I’d rather be a donkey.

I grew up in Western Maine, a rural area, comprised of many conservative and lower/middle class families. I identified, and even registered, as a Republican in my first election in 2008. (Sorry, Obama.) I thought that the Republican viewpoint was tried and true, because that’s how I was raised, and I didn’t have enough exposure or examples growing up to know better. 

As a 13-year-old in 2003, I found the topic of politics to be dull and couldn’t really follow the conversations that were happening. Mostly, I was confused, as I didn’t understand why people I looked up to were saying things I didn’t agree with; but I didn’t understand why I didn’t agree with them, because I really didn’t understand what they were even talking about... 

It wasn’t until college that the pieces began to fully form - Wait, what’s wrong with being gay? Why does it matter that he’s black? Why are you upset about universal healthcare?! - and I realized that, “Hey! Hold your Elephants. I’m NOT a Republican!” 

9/11 was a pivoting moment for me in realizing the complications of the world, and how politics can effect and shape every aspect of life. I was 11 then, and, though I didn’t really comprehend the reasons behind why 9/11 occurred, I knew that it wasn’t good and that the United State’s response of starting a war wasn’t that great, either. It was a super scary time - that I got to see from the comfort of my couch in my living room in New England... I can only imagine what 11-year-olds in New York faced at the time, and the scars they may still carry to this day.

#privilege 

I was obsessed with learning about 9/11. I wanted to clip every article I read and I kept a journal for a couple of weeks, detailing President Bush’s moves and decisions. I realize now that this was my way of dealing with a traumatic event, but also my first step into wanting to understand politics, while, at the same time, thinking it was a bunch of malarkey that I was happy not to have to deal with. 

So... a few years later, in my early teens, to hear complaints about what Maine’s Governor John Baldacci was doing regarding healthcare and civil rights, it was easier to roll my eyes and walk away, then fight a battle I couldn’t back up. 

Now, in the last year of my twenties, I feel a hell of a lot more educated and knowledgeable about politics than I did 17 years ago. The past few weeks have spawned conversations that have been difficult to have, but have been completely necessary, and have allowed me to see how much growth I’ve had and how much farther I still have to go.

I was raised to have racial tendencies, to assume things about other people without knowing them, to pass judgement when unnecessary. I’ve worked hard to undo those habits, and I will continue to work at them and apologize when I’m wrong, and educate myself on what is moral and ethical and true and right. 

I’m almost 30. I have said for a long time that I wanted to be one of those people that had their shit together by age 50. I’ve been working on getting my shit together since I was 16. I think I’m going to be one those of people. 

[violingurl1999]

What Really Matters

This time of year has always been hard for me. Even when I had a relationship with my father, I always hated the forced requirement that Father’s Day brought. Buy a card, buy a present, go out to eat, etc. It never felt genuine or earned, so it was always frustrating to feel obligated to celebrate. 

This year is weirder than ever. It’s the first year I’m truly without having to do something for the holiday. I stopped speaking to my father in August of last year, and Alec’s dad is not around right now, so we aren’t able to see him. I think Alec and I are going to try to go to Portland to escape for some socially distanced masked fun, and I’m hoping to have his help doing some projects around the house. But it’s just weird. Like... do I honor Alec for “parenting” my stuffed animal Kirby?! 

Father’s Day is such a Hallmark holiday. It’s such an awkward thing. “Celebrate dad today. Give him a card that says he’s the BBQ king and the owner of the remote.” I mean, I’d probably be less bitter if I had a better relationship with my father, but I don’t understand why they need another day of celebration. 

Like, if you were an awesome fucking dad, I would tell you that on the reg, and I would hug you without hesitation, and just be so happy to be in your presence. I would probably buy you random shit just because, when compelled, and I would have many, many days of great memories where we went mini-golfing or to the beach... and not just on some Sunday in June. 

Father’s Day seems like a dumb holiday to allow children to not feel shitty about not being kind to their parental figures the rest of the year. Or to give lame dads an excuse to get attention that they don’t necessarily deserve. I mean, for single dads who rock all of the socks or awesome dads, it totally makes sense... it’s otherwise a very frustrating and empty holiday for someone who hasn’t had that sort of fathered experience.

I feel like birthdays are truly the one day where everyone should be required to honor someone. Like, if not for this day I wouldn’t exist, so love me and shower me with attention. I’m totes down with that. Wear your tiara, demand ice cream, and cry, if you want to. 

But... for these weird Hallmark holidays. Why not be kind to the people you love every day of the year?! Buy them cards for no reason or a weird little trinket from Dollar Tree just cause. Like, don’t be that person that’s like, “Oh, shit. Father’s Day is next weekend. What do I get for dad?” Be that person that (instead) says, “Dad, I’m so freaking grateful you were and are an active part of my life. Here is the biggest hug I can muster and the best present you could ask for: me. Let’s go get ice cream together, because it’s the small things I remember most.” 

[violingurl1999]

May I Have Your Attention, Please?

My therapist suggested that I may have ADHD, and I’m honestly really hoping that it’s true. I’ve been wanting to know why I have had reactions to things the way I have my whole life. Why I’ve struggled with emotions and simple things that others can do so easily. Why I’ve been doted as sensitive and thin-skinned, and why I tend to trail off when people are talking to me. Why I always seem to do things the hard way, or why I forget why I’m going to the store, even though I just spent the entire car ride listing what I needed to get. 

I know that some of my reactions and ways of doing things is nature, though quite a lot is because of nurture. And I know that I have generalized anxiety disorder and depression, which plays a factor in my behaviors and moods, but it is so relieving and freeing to know that these difficulties could have realistic factors beyond “that’s just how Ashley is.” 

It took me about a decade to come to terms with the fact that I needed medication to calm my brain. To be able to function without crying on the daily. To not respond to things so angrily or drastically. Being on medication has allowed me to know what it’s like to have less chaos in my head, and to be able to organize and deal with my emotions and my problems a lot more easily. I still struggle, but it’s so much better. 

I’m contemplating what I can do for and with a possible diagnosis of ADHD. I read that stimulants are generally prescribed for people with ADHD, as they tend to, though seemingly ironic, calm and focus attention, but non-stimulants can also be prescribed, or people can go without having to take medication. 

Now, when I drink caffeine, it either goes one of two ways: 1) I do get more focused and upbeat and have more energy, or 2) I Hulk-out and become really moody, sad and angry. Generally, the latter happens when I’ve had too much caffeine or when I’ve had it late in the day; I tend to be okay if I’ve consumed the liquid chaos in the early morning. 

I have always been the type of person to want to avoid hospitals and to fight taking medication, because I’ve been afraid of the side effects and I was taught to avoid medication as much as possible. But, as I’ve learned from friends and from my doctors, never read the instructions that come with those orange bottles. Take the medications as prescribed, watch for telling reactions and listen to your body. You’ll know if it’s not helping; you’ll know if it’s making it worse. 

So, I think that if I do have ADHD, which I’m like 98% sure I do, I’d be curious to try a medication to see what it could do for me. It would be nice to be able to quiet the constant chatter in my head and to calm the recent surge of feeling like I have no ability to focus. 

In two weeks, my therapist is going to clinically test me. In the meantime, I Googled the medical ASRS-v 1.1 ADHD diagnostic test and took it, then had Alec answer the questions in regards to my behaviors. And, well, we got the same answers, so... I’m pretty sure I have a 4.0 in mental health issues. And that’s okay. 

It’s a hurdle to get over, but the more I understand who I am, what my body needs, what I struggle with, what I am capable of, the better version of me I become. I am learning how to be kind to myself and take care of myself, and in doing so, I learn how to be nicer and more caring to the people and the world around me. 

So, here’s to ADHD, to mental illness, to self-realization, to self-care. To fixing the problem instead of hiding it under the rug. To accepting who I am and being proud of my identity, and never letting anything or anyone hold me back. 

[violingurl1999]

Walk Away

I’m not the type of person that would generally quit a job without having a new one in place. Or at least without having a plan. I mean, I sort of have a plan, but not really. I plan to relax and actually take some time for me, to do the things I love and to catch up on some things I simply want to do. 

I’m waiting to hear back about a position I interviewed for (and then had a second interview for!)… rather, I’m anxiously and eagerly waiting. I don’t have anything else lined up if that doesn’t fly my way. I mean, duh... it’s going to, obviously, because I am awesome and my awesomeness will make them even more awesome, so there’s nothing to fear! Smashley is here! 

But tomorrow is going to be weird. Tomorrow is the last day at a job that I had for almost four years. Tomorrow I will walk away from work I did that made me feel like I was helping the world, helping my community, helping my career to grow. And I walk away for a multitude of reasons. But, mainly, I walk away for myself. 

[violingurl1999]

Happy Father’s Day?

Father’s Day has always been hard for me, but this year is especially hard, as I ended my relationship with my father in January.

I never felt the traditional excitement and adoration one does during this Hallmark holiday. Every year, I would plan an event with my father that would ultimately be something I didn’t want to do, but would do out of obligation. And every year, I would find myself in agony trying to find an appropriate card or gift. My biggest predicament: How do you honor someone who didn’t deserve the honor?

I do love my father because he is my father, but he is not someone I would choose to know outside of genetics and he is not someone who positively influences my life.

It’s hard to lose a parent. It’s hard to feel as though you never had one, at least not in the way you wanted, and it’s hard to not feel guilt, though you know that none of it is your fault.

I’m struggling this weekend. I’m sad and grieving for something I never really had and seemingly never will. I have many father figures in my life that I am truly grateful for, but that doesn’t lessen the pain I’ve been feeling this week, and that doesn’t fill this void.

I know it will get better and easier, and maybe someday Alec and I will have kids, and I can honor him and watch him in adoration show our children unconditional love and support.

But for now, I just need to feel what I’m feeling and that’s okay. It sucks, but it’s okay.

[violingurl1999]

Fa(r)ther away.

Last week, I ended my relationship with my father, and I’m struggling with my decision.

For 28 years, our connection was out of obligation. As a teenager, I fought with my mother about my remaining in contact with him, because I never felt like a priority in his book. I was always the bait that lead him to his intended target. I didn’t want to partake it in any longer, but I did out of loyalty to my mother, to make it easier on her. My parent’s dynamic was unhealthy and painful; he abusive to her, and she unable and unwilling to escape. Endless hours of fighting about the same subjects, of name-calling, of cursing, of yelling. I would lock myself away in my bedroom and listen to music or watch television until I got frustrated and would run out of my room screaming at them to stop. This never helped the situation, but certainly allowed me to rage against the dying of the light. At night, I would pray for a miracle, for something to change this reality and make it better. So often I prayed to God the same tune, I began to wonder if He grew tired of the melody, or perhaps I wasn’t singing it right? “Everything happens for a reason,” I was taught. “Well,” I wondered, “what could be the reason for all of this?!”

Now, as an adult child, with my mother safely away from my father’s wrath, I began taking on his chaos. Unwanted and inappropriate texts about the past - the same conversations, full of name-calling, cursing... most of it directed at my mother but some at me. Numerous accounts of being told I was brainwashed because I didn’t agree with him, or that none of my vivid memories had ever occurred. “I was never abusive,” he said. “He was a great father,” my aunt told me. There are two things that are completely unfair in all of this: 1) I never had any say in the environment I grew up in, and 2) my father will seemingly never be held accountable for his actions. Our current president is a pro at gaslighting. My father isn’t far behind him. < gaslighting - manipulate (someone) by psychological means into questioning their own sanity. > I’m angry. I’m beyond angry at being told my feelings, my scars, my memories and my pain are not valid or real. To have my intelligence and worth diminished and my words ignored. To consistently ask my father to stop his repeated patterns with no relief, and to be called a “piece of shit” when I delivered the ultimatum to protect myself and my sanity. It has only been four days since I lost my father, and it stings like a fresh paper cut on the tongue. I say “lost” because that’s what it feels like. I lost the opportunity to have a good relationship with him years ago, but this is a form of grief that I’m not sure how to handle. He’s still there, but out of reach, and is something I should leave on the top shelf and not try to “get.” My emotions are haywire and my thoughts are arriving full-steam ahead into the station of my brain. If I had chosen to stay in the relationship, I could have easily spent the next X-number of years in the same vicious cycle. No matter how many demands, requests or pleas I made, nothing would change. He wouldn’t be the father I wanted him to be, he couldn’t be, or he would have been that dad already. Which leads me to me having to tell myself over and over that this decision was the best one for me. That I’m not in the wrong, that I should not care what anyone else thinks, that I’ll be okay. I’m tired of feeling guilt or that I’m selfish for choosing me. I deserve a good life, a happy life, with people and experiences that make me a better person and lead me down paths of greatness. I have to keep telling myself that until I believe it, that’s the only form of gaslighting I’m okay with. 

[violingurl1999]

A Journey in Loving Oneself: The Trouble With Food Is

Like air, I need you to survive.

Your very existence gives me life,

Though I’m troubled by our relationship.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like without you:

Would I be stronger, less weakened by your allure?

Or would I cave at the mere thought of your presence?

There are moments when we are together that I want more and more,

And other times, when I can’t wait for you to be gone.

You taunt and torture me, and yet I repeatedly return,

A victim to the delights of your signature personalities.

I plan my days around your schedule,

And even dress accordingly;

My mirror reflects both the positive and negative affect you’ve had on me,

And I hate how easily you sway my mood.

I’d like for us to be friends,

To have interactions where I leave feeling good

Instead of angry, confused and afraid.

I’m working on how to be with you, and it’s hard.

There are days where I feel as though this will never get better.

But I want to believe that it will.

[violingurl1999]

Wishing for a rainbow in an electrical storm

I’m hurting. I’m angry. My thoughts are moving at such a rapid pace that I can’t keep up. I can’t decide if i want to scream or cry, and when I try to do either, nothing happens.

I have so many memories flashing through my brain that I envision moving photographs passing by at light speed. As if they are all bouncing off of me in chaotic directions. Both happy and sad moments hitting me right in the stomach and smacking me in the face.

I’m in shock at some of the things that have been said to me; at their absurdity, the ignorant comments and beliefs. I was there and witnessed it all, yet I’m brainwashed and heartless. I’m the one that doesn’t care or doesn’t show love.

In a scene where the child wishes to be held, a shadow of their older self offers a loving embrace in place of the parental figure. Adulthood comes early for some.

Though I didn’t excuse or condone it, as a teenager I had gained perspective and arrived at an understanding at the behavior; I knew it was a result of pain and anger and I felt empathy. Now I see the shell of potential full of unfortunate reality.

I’m disappointed in the decisions and actions, or lack thereof. A part of me still hopes for a wave of solutions to wash away the dirt and bring to shore a calming sea. I’m standing on a deserted beach in the middle of a hurricane dying to see a rainbow.

Perhaps its time to take cover and head for safety, and do what’s best for my body and my heart.

[violingurl1999]

Learning to catch fleeting moments.

I am having a hard time. I am having a hard time being an ear for someone I don't want to listen to. I am having a hard time trying to be the voice of reason, only to not be heard. I am having a hard time processing my own feelings, yet trying to understand someone else's which are based in a false reality.

I am struggling to let go of the past so it doesn't cloud up my present or continue to affect my future. Old emotions and wounds have been reopened to a point where I never know when they will attack me. I am tired and worn out, feeling as though I am a volcano ready to erupt. I have been strong my whole life, able to turn my head and my ear, but all that has really done is allow me to take the blow head-on. Literally.

I started counseling again this week. I had been debating whether I should go for a while, and recent events made that decision for me. It was nice and really cathartic to open up and be 100% honest, with nothing holding me back. There is no point in keeping secrets anymore, and that is a beautiful thing.

I need to express this hurt and anger. I need it to leave my body and vanish into the bright blue sky. I need the sun to cast it's warm and inviting beams on me, healing me with its touch. I need to feel at one with the earth as I once did when I was a little girl. I desperately need to know that feeling of relief and total submission to being in the moment.

My life has been hard, that's for sure. Yet it has also been beautiful. I get mad trying to admit happiness or gratitude, because I'm always terrified that the other shoe will drop. I am scared that I will find myself in a state of bliss and a nasty wind will come and blow my happiness away. For too long I've been afraid of living, and I am eager to take the world head-on and relish in the fleeting moments.

I have always dreaded the dark. Nighttime was especially scary because my guard would be down. I couldn't make sure that things were safe, if I couldn't see what was coming. I felt weak and afraid at night; not good qualities for a protector. I hated sleep and still do. I could never get enough of it, and always felt guilty when I could. Like my rest and relaxation wasn't deserved, because I wasn't there when she needed me.

Thursday's were always my favorite day. It  was my day of escape. When I got to feel like a child, staying up late at Nana and Papa’s, eating my favorite food, spaghetti, and sleeping in my A-bed, built just for me. No one else could sleep there, just me, Munchkin and TD. Thursday's was when I got to sleep. Though I usually had to lure myself to dreamland. I had to convince myself things were and would be okay. Sticking to that mantra is how I got through my adolescence.

I can't erase my memories, and most of the time, I wish I could. Even many of my good memories have a spot or two of tarnish on the edges. I've wiped most of it away, but quite a bit still haunts me. I have a collection of truly happy memories, but I keep them to myself. Almost as though I am afraid that admitting them out loud will ruin their specialness.

As an adult I struggle the most with allowing myself to be happy. Again, with the shoe-dropping fear. Too many of my past demons haunt me, even when I'm wide awake, and I'm hoping the therapy will scare them away. I've been keeping track of my negative thoughts and meditating. It seems to be helping, and I hope it does.

I just need to get my anger under wraps. Most of the time I feel as though I could explode and jump down the throat of anyone near me. I just want to scream until I'm hoarse or hit something repeatedly. I watch action-adventure movies or crime-fighting shows and get a sense of relief. The idea of operating a fast car at high speeds or karate-chopping my way through a choreographed fight scene leaves me calm. Ironic, that’s for sure, but it helps. I can get caught up in the adrenaline or the thrill of the chase and it slows my internal clock and eases my inner She-Hulk. I adore that my friends call me Smashley, but it also saddens me because of its roots. I still want the nickname, but I’d like to be Bruce Banner more than a big, green fighting machine.

There is hope. I have hope that this is all going to get better. As the saying goes, “it only gets worse before it gets better.” I’ve seen worse, and this isn’t that bad, it’s just difficult and exhausting. It’s already much better, but I’m ready for it to be great. I’m trying to do my part to make it great, piece by piece, step by step. I have a goal that I’ll have my shit together by the time I’m 30. I’m on the right road, I just need to make sure that I take the wrong exit and get lost along the way.

[violingurl1999]

Navigating the bumpy road of my mind.

Though I had been repeatedly told that the anxiety medication wouldn’t make everything instantly better, I think a part small of me hoped that it would magically solve all of my problems. Like a chemical unicorn that sprinkled happiness and clarity in the form of a cognitive glitter. Alec keeps saying that the medicine is supposed to make things easier so I can focus on easing my anxiety and my insecurity but not be the sole solution. To a degree, it has made things easier, but I’m still in the dark on how to fully understand and navigate my thoughts and emotions. A lot of good things have occurred in the last few months, as well as a lot of chaos, and it’s been difficult for me to understand what it “okay” to feel, what is “normal” for me, and what should be considered a red flag. I have no idea how to differentiate my feelings to determine whether I’m angry, upset or miserable, and when I’m happy, I find myself sabotaging it in some way or another. In a similar vein: "Love one another and you will be happy. It's as simple and as difficult as that." - Michael Leunig I’ve tried different forms of therapy in the past, which have been beneficial to a certain degree, but I find talking about my problems does not necessarily help me. Sometimes I need to talk out my thoughts and feelings with Alec or my friends, which can take upwards of two or three hours, but most of the time I realize that it only makes me cycle through the feelings causing me to be more affected by them. I’m debating therapy again because I need to find better ways of dealing, but I’m a little cautious and concerned. Most importantly, I need to find regiments and tactics that help me to take better care of myself and sort my thoughts and feelings. My biggest goals are to like myself as a person, to lose weight so I feel confident in my body, and to learn how not to respond to my triggers. I’m tired of disliking myself and I’m tired of feeling helpless and trapped in my head. I’ve been coming to terms with how much of an impact my mental illness has on my life and I don’t want it to affect me anymore. I’ve had my license for over a decade now and consider myself to be a pretty good driver. It’s time for me to be in the driver’s seat of my mind. I don’t want to keep going to rainy Seattle (unless, of course I get to be on an episode of iZombie), I want to blast the radio, roll the windows down and take control of my destination. “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. “ - Mark Twain

[violingurl1999]

Lions, and Leias, and Hulks. Oh, my!

A few months ago I took a gigantic step in bettering my life and began anxiety medication. It was a struggle at first, getting used to the new patterns and rhythms of my brain, instead of the constant noise and repetition of thoughts, but I loved it. It was such a rush to get up in the morning without complaint or fear, spend a full day at work, and come home content, relaxed, and able to enjoy the silence. Though I had a few bad days here and there, I had finally gotten to a point where I could understand life without crippling anxiety. Then I fell off the wagon, so-to-speak, and have been having the hardest time getting back up. I’m still taking the medication - only 5 mg (I’m waiting to hear back from my doc before increasing my dosage) - but I’m struggling. I’m back to feeling the plague of seemingly never-ending sadness and depression that I can’t shake. My world feels upside down and chaotic, and like it will never go back to the level of calm that I got to experience for such a short time. There are areas of my life that I have little-to-no control over, in which the outcome of the situation is highly dependent on the other individuals involved. Yet, at the same time, it’s up to me to do what I can to better my half of the situation, which is where I am experiencing the most uncertainty and confusion. I barely knew how to stand on my own two feet before I was medicated, and now, not only am I working to stabilize myself, but I’m navigating through emotions. Why don’t humans come with instruction manuals?! I know it will get better in time; I know that this is just a bump in the road. Four months ago, I didn’t and couldn’t believe those sentences to be true, and now there is still a little part of me that is paranoid and afraid that they might not be. I spent two decades of my life thinking that I would always suffer, that I could not possibly find a way out of the sadness or the misery, and that, even if I did, my problems would always be there. Honestly, though, the problems that I always carried on my shoulders were not my own. That pain belongs to someone else and I don’t want to carry it anymore. I want to be happy and strong and I don’t want to be their emotional punching bag. I have a lot of work to do and not a lot of courage. I feel like the Cowardly Lion stuck in a corn maze when I want to be a force to be reckoned with like Princess Leia. Perhaps all of the anger I have pent up inside can help guide that. I just have to work on keeping the Hulk at bay.

[violingurl1999]

Low Grade Paradise

On New Year's Eve Eve, I hit the one month mark of being on anxiety medication.

I knew I had made the right decision (on taking medication) on the day of my doctor’s appointment after completing the depression (PHQ-9) and anxiety (GAD-7) screenings. I scored 15 out of 27 on the PHQ-9, making me high-risk for depression, and 20 out of 21 on the GAD-7. After tallying those numbers, I jokingly mused that I clearly didn’t study hard enough - I didn’t get a perfect score. Naturally, since I’m cute and funny, my doctor laughed… but all joking aside, despite the fact that humor is my way of dealing, those numbers clearly indicated that I needed some serious mental assistance.

Having gone from three or four panic attacks a day and being terribly moody and upset 99.7% of the time - okay maybe 60% - it is like paradise having, on average, one attack a week. They come at random and, in keeping with the paradise-motif, as forceful as a tidal wave. Sometimes they knock me off my feet and produce a ocean’s worth of tears. Other times they pass with the breeze.

I’m thankful for the ones that come and go quickly. Those moments make me feel balanced, in control, and “normal.” Whatever that means.

I still struggle with understanding and navigating my emotions, and imagine that I will continue to struggle with that for some time. I debated whether I should increase my medication, but was advised to do so only if I feel myself settling back into old habits. I thought that I should up the dosage recently when I had a few days of massive crabbiness. Turns out that’s just my hormones enjoying being female. As Alec admitted, he’d rather have a few days of me having ABF (active-bitch face instead of resting-bitch face), than have me endure the endless hours of mental misery. Though I’m thrown off by the random bouts of moodiness, it is much nicer to be alone with myself and my thoughts now than it was a month ago.

Out of curiosity, I Googled the PHQ-9 and GAD-7 tests and look them. I haven’t really allowed myself to think negative thoughts in the past month. Rather, I’ve noticed that when an anxious thought makes its way in, I’ve been fairly good at deflecting it. Though I do still have generalized anxiety disorder, I am able to separate those anxious thoughts much better than before, and while I’m still afraid, I am not experiencing debilitating moments of panic and fear. While I still have my morning routines for leaving the house, my “checklist” has decreased and I only ask Alec 20 times instead of 100, “Was everything off? Was the door locked?”

So now, a month (and a few days later), my scores are…

Drumroll, please.

4 out of 27 on the PHQ-9 6 out of 21 on the GAD-7

For the first time in my life I could not be more proud of such a low mark!

Even if those numbers never get to zero, I’m in awe that I’ve come such a long way in such a short time, and I couldn’t be happier. Well… I’m working on it.

[violingurl1999]

Pride and Passion

I received Bernie Sanders' book for Christmas and just began reading it. I'm already falling more in love with good ole Bernie and Vermont (or Bermont as Siri tried to autocorrect)... and now I find myself even more intrigued and captivated by politics than I had already started to be in 2016.

I'm currently on the subject of Bern's belief that all people should have access to health care when necessary. All I can think about are the efforts of my coworkers and the incredible work they do on a daily basis, seeking to care for their patients in ways that are truly above and beyond.

I'm so proud of where I work and what it stands for. I'm proud of Bernie and what he stands for.

With the rush of desire for creativity that La La Land recently gave me, the newfound knowledge from my coursework in my brain, and this burst of inspiration from the passionate hard work of the individuals whose books I have recently read, I can only hope and aspire to work my tail off to help make a difference.

As my husband said about me, I love helping and connecting people.

This scatterbrained post is brought to you tonight by the conclusion that I could not be more proud or have found a better career for myself than furthering the work of the nonprofits near and dear to my heart.

[violingurl1999]

2017 - A truly new me.

2016 was an interesting year. Parts of it I remember, much of it is a blur. This makes me sound like I spent the entire year partying, but I only got water drunk. Just ask my friends. If we’re out at a restaurant and I have more than two glasses of water... oh baby, it’s a sight to see.

But truly, it’s not my fault that I don’t remember 2016. For many Americans and entertainment lovers, 2016 contained sad and devastating events, so it is only natural to allow those painful memories to escape. My brain had additional content pushing its way in, which caused many days to smush together. I don’t know how many times I discussed getting something at the grocery store moments before entering, only to ask Alec immediately after getting inside Shaws, “What are we here for?” Alongside of my book-busting, I completed my third year of board-membering and marketing-directing for M&D Playhouse. I did not get to perform in a show, but spent many a night in the box office. A goal for 2017 is to audition my little heart out and truly work on allowing myself to let go and simply enjoy performing. There is nothing like being on stage in the spotlight and immersing yourself in a character or a song. It’s truly orgasmic. ...Yeah, I went there. 

My favorite moment of 2016 (aside from getting to go to Hogwarts!), was being hired as a receptionist at White Mountain Community Health Center. I am so grateful to have been given the opportunity to work for a nonprofit that provides so many wonderful services to the community, to have such supportive and amazing coworkers, and for all the adventures yet to come. It’s been an incredible four months, and I am so appreciative of the fact that my coworkers and supervisors trust and believe in me. I truly love my job.

Also, did I mention Hogwarts?! I GOT TO GO TO HOGWARTS! Like... my childhood came to life. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to do anything but hang out in Diagon Alley and speak in a British accent and eat at the Leaky Cauldron and drink Pumpkin Juice and cast spells and ride the Hogwarts Express. Alec had to practically drag me to other parts of the park and then between heat exhaustion and anxiety, I was a little Mad Eye Moody until I got to go back to Harry Potter land. I’m counting down the days until we can return. Other traveling highlights include our second time to NYC for Alec’s birthday and my birthday mini-golfing extravaganza in Lake George. NYC was so beautiful in February... we went around to various different places where Alec had gotten birthday deals: Benihana, which was absolutely amazing, and an Italian restaurant where we paid a grand total of about $2 for two meals! I also saw my first Broadway show (Kinky Boots starring Wayne Brady) and fell absolutely in love. I can’t wait to go again! And not to brag... but I totally won the most mini-golf games AND we went big ball bowling. Such incredible memories. I’m so thankful for my amazing husband’s travel knowledge and willingness to explore. He’s truly opened my eyes and enhanced my life. For 2017, I hope we get to create more wonderful memories and travel to new and exciting places! My second favorite moment of 2016 happened only recently. A little over a month ago, I took a huge leap of faith and started anxiety medication. I was beyond terrified and could not have done it without the support of my husband, my friends and coworkers. I had gotten to a point where I was having three or more panic attacks a day and was absolutely exhausted. Therapy and being mindful only helped to a degree, and I couldn’t take anymore. The morning I started taking the medication, I had had a panic attack about taking it and eventually collapsed on the kitchen floor (about five minutes before I needed to leave for work), and bawling my eyes out, asked Alec for a glass of water. 

Now, a month later, I still struggle with understanding and balancing my emotions, but have only had four or five panic attacks... total. Had I known what taking that leap would have done for me, I would have tried to aspire to do it sooner. However, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the people in my life, so even though I wish it had happened sooner, it happened at the right time. I’m calm and it’s amazing. I’m learning what it means to allow myself to be happy and I’m working on restoring my confidence and quieting my insecurities.

I have high hopes for 2017. I want to read more, to rid myself of negative energy, to reconnect with old dreams and determine which ones I still want to follow, to be more active, to fail graciously and pick myself back up, to truly work on me.

Every year since I was 13, I have set New Year’s Resolutions. What I didn’t realize in setting these goals for myself over the years is that I was setting myself up for failure. I always wanted to “be less anxious” or “be happy,” but I failed to recognize that I couldn’t do those things on my own. I was afraid of supplying myself with the tools I truly needed, I was afraid of asking for help, and I let it hold me back. For good reason, because I always painted the worst case scenario, but sometimes you simply have to take that chance. So here’s to my first year happily medicated. I hope to get water drunk every chance I can. Laugh like I used to at the mention of the word “cow.” (Seriously, it’s a great story... let’s share a glass of water sometime and I’ll tell you.) And not let anyone or anything (especially myself) hold me back from experiencing happiness, joy or new opportunities. And that includes dancing in a circle like an awkward group of teenagers and owning every moment of it. Life’s a dance, you learn as you go, sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow. Don’t know about what you don’t know. Life’s a dance you learn as you go.

[violingurl1999]

How to make your vote count: Don’t let others silence you.

I used to say that I did not like politics, mostly because I did not like the way that people treated each other when the topic arose, and also due to the fact that some of the concepts confused me. Despite this viewpoint, I was always fascinated by the system of the subject as a whole - the checks and balances, the structure, each presidential history.

In college, I took civics, which - though a lot of information was thrown at me - my interested was captivated and I began to want to learn more. In 2008, I voted in my first presidential election. Having grown up in a conservative family, I was both influenced and confused by their opinions. I still did not quite understand each area of concern as deeply as I would have liked, but something about the Republican stance did not settle well with me. I remember being ecstatic about voting for the first time, the feeling like I was now an adult, contributing to society. However, I felt sick after leaving the town office... I voted the way I thought I should have, out of fear of truly embracing my own stance. The day Obama was sworn into office, I remember watching the ceremony in my dorm and hearing my floormates cheering him on. I instantly felt regret and disgusted by my vote - I was glad that my vote did not count. Anytime anyone asked me who I voted for, I lied and said, “Nader.” It made people laugh, and made me feel less ashamed.

Between 2008 and 2012, my political understanding grew stronger. As I gained new experiences and met new friends, I began to form opinions on education, taxes, marriage, and healthcare, and often clashed with the views of my loved ones. It was an internal battle that I kept to myself because I did not want to offend or hurt anyone. I tolerated the comments I disagreed with, and kept my tongue at bay. Though I understood their mindset, I did not condone it, and slowly began to be okay with admitting that realization.

In 2012, I registered as a New Hampshire Democrat and voted for Obama to be re-elected. I was beyond proud of my decision, and was excited to see the results of the next four years. I will never forget the reactions of my friends when love won.

During the summer of 2016, I became more political than I had ever been before. I wanted to understand, I wanted to know how the world could improve, what would positively and negatively effect my life and that of those I love. I actively discussed the options and cheered for Mr. Bernie Sanders. I was emboldened by Bernie’s words, his promise, his plan. The future seemed bright: I felt the Bern.

Fast forward to yesterday, November 8, 2016. I was scared. The journey had been ugly and tense, and I chose to naively believe that the result would be in my favor. As someone who is largely pessimistic, I had hope, but I was still terrified. I eagerly drove to the polls, walked hand-in-hand with my husband, and stared at the colored bubble for a few minutes to be certain I had not had a moment of dyslexia. I was with her.

I fell asleep without knowing the results, and woke up to tears. I cried most of the morning. My heart has been heavy, my emotions and nerves heightened. I’m fighting off dark thoughts, unrealistic worries, and an overwhelming sense of doom. I want to remain positive, I want to fight, I want to be smart and helpful. I do not want to be hateful or hurtful. Yet, I’m hurting. I feel disconnected from and betrayed by my loved ones, yet my love for and loyalty to them challenges my desire to want to fully embrace and proudly rally with my fellow lefties. I cannot and will not ignore how I feel, and will not let anyone sway me of those feelings. I don’t want to feel guilty anymore, I don’t want to feel ashamed. For the first time in my life, I’m not letting someone scare me from my viewpoint, and I’m trying to not get in my own way. It feels like the true beginning of my political journey, and next time, I’m going in like a fully loaded baked potato.