Tag: navigating

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Into the dark.

tec

It comes on so fast.

Fucking bulldozer.

I’m fine.

And then I’m not.

I’m really not.

It’s like liquid mercury reaching out and sliding through me. Becoming me.

I can feel it. The pouring. Warm suffocation.

Kelly once told me she worried about me because my normal is so borderline. I think about that randomly. I even thought about it this week. I overcome it–somehow–so often that it’s easy to forget. It’s easy to imagine it’s no big deal. That it’s navigable.

But I left the house to get R and I was okay. And then I was not. I was consumed with the slippery tentacles. The squeezing in my chest. The liquid slipping past eyelashes. The all consuming vast nothingness.

I kept hearing Beth say I’m doing good work and that voice telling me it’s a good lie. That the work isn’t real. That I hide too much to make progress. That I won’t ever unearth it. That I’ll never be able to differentiate between compartmentalizing and progress.

That there isn’t more than the emptiness.

And me–my voice and my mind–I can only….experience the darkness.

And know it’ll pass. Know I’m not okay. Know I’m not me and I have to wait it out. Know that I am fucking drowning. Know that it feels like a fucking split personality. Know that I have to bide my time. Know that I have to fight if the darkness wants to take action along with the thoughts.

It is fucking exhausting.

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I’m right there.

tec

I’m not really sure what’s up with me today.

It was a good day by all accounts. And yet, tonight I found myself eating. Hell, this afternoon I found myself eating. I checked in with myself. Nothing really felt off. But here I was, eating.

I snacked when I don’t normally snack. I ate more, even if not a lot, after I snacked. I noticed I was doing it and was, like, curiously detached?

I checked in with myself even!

And still, I don’t know what it was about.

If I’m being honest here, I want to say that I didn’t check in fully. But I checked in. It’s a start–in this strange land of practice.

It really wasn’t about quantity today. It was this odd, nuanced quality. I don’t know what the thing was that triggered the response, but today I just…I wanted to give in a little bit.

I wanted the comfort of the familiar.

Unfortunately, it’s a short-lived comfort and what little it worked a month ago, it works even less now.

I ate some after 7. I ate some after 8 even. I could have eaten all night. It would never have provided anything.

In hindsight that is sad, but at the time, the “sadness” or “mourning” of that loss were not feelings that registered for me. What I thought about was “what feelings triggered this?” I didn’t come up with anything. But I asked the question. Which means I’m learning. And eventually, even without an answer, I stepped away and went for a walk instead.

Then tonight I was going to go to sleep. And then I decided to pick up the kitchen a bit. And I committed to writing this post, but then I found myself getting ready to wash the dishes and I thought, “damn, girl, whatcha avoiding?”

And I don’t know. But I traded the sponge for the keyboard and showed up for myself.

I got it all down even if I still don’t really know what the “what” was.

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It took some time to survive you.

tec

I’ve been disconnecting my why and my who from my present the past few days.

I’m sure there’s a reason. I’m sure that reason is important. But I haven’t tread there yet. I haven’t come here to pick it apart.

I know part (most?) of it is stress. I know it’s some of the little behind-the-scenes stuff happening that is out of my control. Or was once in my control (sorta) and I didn’t fight then to turn overwhelm into action. And so now there are multiple overwhelm categories all sneaking to the forefront at once.

I could name them, but that is scary. I’m not there yet. Even tho I know it’s helpful.

So I’m checking them off slowly without naming them.

But even still, I find myself here, now, facing the fact that my why and my who have not been congruent with my relationship with food. And that’s okay. There’s no shame in that. It’s observation. And still, it’s my present truth.

And that’s not to say that has to be my truth the next time I eat or tonight or tomorrow. It’s just the truth of what the last couple days have looked like. And part of my personal development is that I’m self aware enough to notice and acknowledge these things, and then decide where I place my foot during my next step.

I’ve noticed and acknowledged the last few days. Of course I have! I no longer have the luxury of not seeing it. And still I’ve made the decisions that the ideal, future, healthy version of me would. not. make. And to make it worse, when I make the anti-me decisions, I tack on preposterous words like, “future me would give herself a break right now and eat this” and “future me would allow for self care to be this one cookie”.

FUTURE ME WOULD. NOT. SAY. THAT.

Future me would say, “find a different way, sister!” (Because future me will sometimes talk like Rachel Hollis and randomly call people sister.)

Future me would also take the time to write because it’s my therapy. Because it brings me back to me. Because it brings me closer to living and breathing my idealized me.

So I sit here writing. Because it’s important. It’s vital. I need it. And I take breaks for self care.

Today I took L to the doctor and re-set myself on a stress path. I need to solidify some research there and put pen to paper. That will help. Today I will also call the tax guy and re-set myself on that stress path. Actively being on those paths is a lot less stressful than knowing I need to get on them. My higher functioning brain knows this, but the whole rest of my being fights it.

And I should also talk to my husband and speak some stress paths because that may be helpful even tho I keep adamantly dragging my feet about it and it’s the very very last thing I want to actually do.

So. Time to jump.

adventures in quarantine, Adventures in running, Uncategorized

Keep my composure when it’s time.

tec

I jacked up my knee(s) a bit. I’m thinking it’s patellar tendinitis. Seems the most likely culprit.

The universe was like “hold up, li’l girl” and then instead of stomping about it–because that would have really hurt–I said “okay” and I complied without complaint.

I am no less committed to my dream, though I certainly feel the affects of this injury on my heart.

Yes, it sucks and I’m trying to honor those feelings in myself. I don’t want to dismiss or compartmentalize them. It does suck and I recognize that. But also, I have the tools and support to navigate it.

I will keep chugging along.

From the start I have viewed this time as both training and running. Training wants to be the focus. I’ll ice and rest for now and then I’ll start strength training, increase walking, and focus on endurance in other ways. This isn’t a hard stop. It’s just a speed bump.

I still choose joy. I am still a runner.

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It may be quite simple.

tec

What a strange and hard and beautiful weekend.

Friday was a long day after a long week. Saturday was me trying to learn to navigate in the face of all the everything….while also doing a 12 week goal challenge, maintaining my home, decluttering, mom’ing 24/7, attending virtual Al-Anon meetings, showing up for myself, backpedaling and flailing around in my progress, etc etc etc.

Saturday Chris and I successfully and safely walked through a conversation about overwhelm and needing help and support. Neither of us seemed to jump or get defensive and while I was reacting to the overwhelm, he wasn’t reacting to me and that brought us to a really great place.

I also talked to my sponsor on the phone for the first time. It’s something I wanted, but not something I felt “enough” to initiate. That’s an interesting thing for myself–not feeling my enoughness. I’m also navigating people and old friendships and new ones and common denominators and trying to feel a bit more whole. And I got to talk about that with someone who knows the right things to say back. Someone who is a good active listener and who can role model active listening. I need that. We talked for an hour on Sunday too. I could cry for how fulfilling it is.

Then Saturday night amidst all the pandemic and quarantine, we had a tornado touch down less than an hour from here. Downstairs we went at 10pm.

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Don’t let this happy face fool you. Just moments before, my sweet 75 pound pup had to be carried down the stairs because she was petrified.

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My favoritest girl. (And a trash run that needs to be made. Ha.)

The tornado (and R) helped me to realize that we need a better tornado plan. And I am ready to get back to work on the basement. I don’t know that it will happen soon, but I can at least put all that stuff in the car and make a trash run. Or I can start putting some of it out for trash little by little. But yes. No more basement stagnation, even with a bunch of other things going on. A five minute timer each day.

Overwhelm turned action.

Sunday brought us one last day of Spring Break downtime.

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The boys made a gingerbread cake and, later in the night–when it felt late and like the night should be wrapping up–S asked me to roast Brussels sprouts. I retorted, “help me then.” And he did! And we chopped together and took quality time and listened to Martin Sexton play on facebook and it was goodness and turned a hard weekend into pure beauty.

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The whole world is moving.

tec

It’s so funny to me. I write a post like my last one, which, as soon as I honored that feeling, the feeling was gone. But then I don’t post for a few days and suddenly it appears that I memorialized that one fleeting moment for days. It amuses me.

Welcome to Thursday. Spring Break is slowly coming to its end. We are in week three of isolation. Here is a recap because I haven’t talked much about it.

The first week was because of influenza A. I got sick first and then R. We were diagnosed on Friday, when Chris started with similar symptoms. The second week was an e-learning trial run (which had some super high highs and some super low lows), along with Chris getting hit hard by the flu and L being hit by a super high fever and no other symptoms. S managed to stay sickness free the entire two weeks, then went to Joe’s for the weekend. Week three found everyone feeling better, except L had some dehydration and digestive stuff going on, but he seems better ish with fluids and a probiotic. S stayed the week at his dad’s which gave R some much needed S-free time. She also drove every day this week, which helped her feel seen and loved and trusted. Being out of work has been rough on Chris, but he’s actually handling it really well. He’s been doing self-reflection and showing up for himself, which is what I’m always hoping for for him. We also got to spend some good time together this week, going for a walk, watching Heroes a few nights, and cuddling on the couch.

I’ve been showing up for me as well. Taking a pause when I need to and shifting mindset in the face of challenging times. I’ve connected with my podcasts and my army of positive voices. I’ve committed time to my goals, especially getting my site launched, which I am constantly backburner’ing. I feel stable, which really says a lot.

The kids go back to e-learning next week and it’s going to be challenging. S gets sidetracked and R isolates. It will take a lot of mental effort on my part to stay on top of helping them stay on top of their education. One moment at a time.

None of this is easy. But I certainly don’t have to make it harder. I get to choose my mindset. That means everything. I choose goodness. That means even more.

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Tell me I’m fine.

tec

This morning is rough.

I’m consciously staying in mindset mode, but it’s challenging.

I woke up so sore today. My arm and shoulder hurt so much. And I knew that constant ache had subsided, but with all the flu going on and all the e-learning and pandemic and self-isolation, it was just nice. And not necessarily a fore-front kind of awareness.

But today I woke up and couldn’t raise my blanket over myself with my left arm again and it all came flooding back to me. I remembered all those months–almost a year of them–of not having the use of my arm. Of being careful and guarded and in constant soreness. Always being reminded my body isn’t where it is supposed to be.

And then after ten months of physical therapy, they finally found a spot that trigger point release worked! And then I got the flu and my whole family got the flu and I couldn’t go to my therapy sessions and didn’t do my stretches. And that was all okay because suddenly I didn’t have the constant ache and I could function!

But I woke up this morning and I couldn’t pull my blanket over me. And I was overwhelmed by all the ways illness slowly steered me from all of my routines. I know I don’t have to stay overwhelmed. I know I can put overwhelm into action and turn the whole thing around.

Knowing it doesn’t make it easy.

I commit to my regular morning routine. I commit to my regular routine life. I’m going to put a podcast on and make sure that my ego-driven doubt and shame get drowned out. It’s not real. I’m going to make coffee and brush teeth and do the dishes. I’m going to take my daily medicines. I’m going to do a pass through of decluttering and disinfecting. I’m going to do my stretches.

Action bores suffocation.

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Hands of a clock.

tec

If you were to ask Chris how our week has gone as a couple, he would say that we feel a million miles away.

If you were to ask me, I’d say that he had some challenging days this week that kept him from me, and that I had a few hours one evening that kept me from him, navigating those days that kept him from me.

Last night, while we were running late and the cat was in the garage, making it inaccessible (the garage, not the cat…tho she wasn’t accessible either…), and I needed to get L’s carseat installed in the car and everything was all snowy and icy and slippery, and we were in a rush to get Chris to his meeting and get the boys to science night at the school, there was this incredible pause. He just came over and he put his hand on my face and the world stopped. And we kissed and nothing else existed in that moment. And no one would have ever been able to say he and I were a million miles from one another.

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Get myself back home.

tec

Today is laughably hard to navigate. Painfully, laughably hard. Like so ridiculously hard.

But.

Despite the knot in my stomach and the clenching in my chest and the tightening of my throat, I go on.

And truly, even this is so much better than the alternative of the life I used to live. So, I’m deeply full of gratitude. And also. Because it’s always both. I am deeply in the middle of this excruciatingly hard moment.

*20 minutes later*

I was gonna tell this heartwarming anecdote about the dog and how all she wants is to go outside, and she jumps on you and then refuses to go out when you open the door because she wants you to go out with her to play, but it’s freezing and snowy and you have pjs and slippers on. And she gets all too-playfully-bitey and she just wants you to meet her when she is.

And that’s kinda what this anxiety feels like. It keeps poking me and jumping on me and biting too hard because it wants attention.

So I sat with the dog and fed her peanut butter off a spoon, so both her playful and my anxiety could have some respite.

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And that was awesome for about ninety seconds.

Then R came in to tell me about her plans for the day. Originally her boyfriend was supposed to come over at 10:30, and then I was supposed to take them to the movies at 11:30. But my car (my freakin’-something-always-comes-up-with-it car) is making a sound right now that makes it too scary and unsafe sounding to drive. (The car place is squeezing me in at 2pm today, thankfreakinggod), so she navigated driving plans today and was totally on top of it (that’s my girl!), which then left me totally……not.

I want to be only grateful that she has the fortitude to continue forward. But here I am instead practicing the lesson of “both” and so I’m sitting here sad to be missing out on having her boyfriend here all day or taking them to the movies myself.

And then to top it all off, she told me how she’s been telling her boyfriend all the things she has never tried (he replied, “ohmygod, you lost your whole childhood!”) because I bought healthy food and she never had Trix cereal or Trix yogurt and we didn’t keep a cornucopia of Little Debbie’s in the house.

Sigh.

And it touches all my triggers, while I already feel triggered enough. And so I cried. Because it’s that kind of day.

(I feel the need to pause here and assure my husband that she wasn’t being mean or manipulative and that it’s okay for me to sit in a moment of uncomfortable and be sad. It doesn’t touch my self-worth in a permanent sort of way.)

So I cried and L came up to me and said, “you have snot?” and I said yes and he said, very concerned, “oh! You crying??” and I said yes and he said “why you crying?” and I told him I was sad and it’s okay to cry when you have lots of feelings.

And it is.

And also, holy heavy anxiety and overwhelm. Where the fuck is my blanket fort?