So You Found a Girl Who Thinks Really Deep Thoughts

WARNING: This post is random and disjointed.

I feel I should write more, but I get bogged down with the details, wanting my words to be linear, profound.  Instead my thoughts get disjointed.  I have scraps of paper with questions, phrases, small paragraphs.  Instead of trying to write anything cohesive, I am sharing my randomness.

Questions I ask myself:

Do most people with anxiety also have low self esteem or lack confidence?

I sometimes wonder if I have an antisocial personality.

I wonder if because I know I overreact if I give people more leeway than I should.

Paragraphs:

When things aren’t going my way, and I feel like I have no control, I feel this constant uneasiness. Discomfort.  Tension.  I need to compartmentalize and make things better. I can’t stand uncontrollable (in my mind) chaos.  Everything needs to be tied with a bow.  No loose ends.  I need to have the answer or the path to the answer at all times.

I vacillate between wanting to be more open and stand up for myself and then never speak and isolate in my cube.  I was probably initially diagnosed with depression because of this isolation and helplessness.

Are there really people that don’t think all the time?  Is that possible?  Is it possible to have just one moment of complete peace?  I can’t fathom that at all. (Apparently I’ve been spelling ‘fathom’ wrong my entire life.  Thanks, spellcheck).  Adult me is always analyzing every thought, every action, even in meditation.  “Am I doing this right?  I know there is no ‘right’, but am I on the right path?”  “Stop thinking.  Just listen.”  “Ok.  Am I appropriately listening now?”

Do I do anything solely for myself?  I think I do everything either to make others happy or in defiance of others.  Either way, everything I do is solely to elicit a response from someone.  I will never stop caring what others think of me.

I need to stop pulling out my hair.  Will more meditation help that?  I don’t have bald spots, but it’s definitely shorter in places.

What would happen if I deactivated my Facebook?  Would my anxiety and paranoia decrease?  Do all people with anxiety also have some level of paranoia?  My husband tells me that people don’t care enough about me to think about me as much as I worry they do.  He says this is how I am like Sheldon, that I think people are thinking about me, that they do things because of me.  He also has stated that he doesn’t believe I actually have a disorder.  I have to accept that he will never really understand.

My Pandora is on a Ryan Adams kick again.

 

 

Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Let go of your shoulders.  Let go of the space between your eyebrows.  Let your jaw drop open.  Let yourself be fully supported by your chair.  Feel all points where you make contact with the chair.  Notice any thoughts and label them as thoughts.  Let them float by without attaching to them. They are like clouds in the sky.  Let go of all that doesn’t serve you.  All we have is this moment.  Breathe it in.  Notice sounds, smells without attachment, without judgment.  Breathe in.  Let it go.

 

 

Namaste

 

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There’s So Much Left To Learn And No One Left To Fight

Keep in mind while reading this that I am fully aware of how absurd and totally counterproductive my thoughts are.

Last week I had a mini heart to heart with someone, and for the first time in a long time truly felt understood and not judged.  I was reviewing a case with my supervisor, and multiple times he commented that I was unusually quiet and wondered if something was wrong.  I denied anything being wrong.  After the case review we were randomly chatting, and he asked again if something was bothering me.  I stated that I felt that I can be annoying to my coworkers by talking too much and therefore was currently choosing to keep to myself unless someone wanted or needed to talk to me.  He stated he understood, but historically speaking, that strategy doesn’t work long for “someone like me.”  Someone like me being, in his words, a happy, bubbly person.  I may attempt to portray this personality to others, but, as my husband has told me, I am a very angry, resentful person.

Anyway, my boss basically said that attempting to keep to myself would most likely backfire on me because that’s not the type of person I am, and I was letting my fear of being disliked by my coworkers negatively impact my behavior and thoughts.  What we eventually got around to is that in my attempt to control my environment, I subconsciously yet purposely sabotage events and relationships essentially making everything I fear a reality.  When I said that I’m constantly trying to control situations because I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, he pointed out that most times there is no other shoe.  What’s more, if there is another shoe, am the one pushing it off the shelf.

I’m so worried that I’ll be caught off guard by something bad that I almost make it happen so that I have the control.  I’ll hurt me before you can hurt me.  Because if you hurt me, that will prove to me that I’m not good enough and I’m not worth NOT hurting.  So I sabotage everything good because of the paralyzing fear that it will go bad anyway.  Because I’m broken.  Or so I think.

But the thing is, I’m not.  Tonight while conducting a counseling session with a client very similar to me (anxious, self-sabotaging, belief of not being good enough) I had a mini epiphany. (Notice everything is “mini.”  Why is that?)  I’ve had this epiphany before, and I’m positive I’ll have it many times again.  I’m not broken.  None of us are really broken.  We may have flawed thinking.  We’re insecure, and we make mistakes, but none of these traits equate to brokenness.  They simply mean we are human.  As such, we are not perfect.  That is what it means to be human.

I am no less “good” than anyone else.  I may have a different thought process, a different work process, a different approach to life, but that in no way means that that other person is any better or any more “right” than I am.  In grad school I saw classmates stressing about papers and midterms.  I worried that I was not worried enough about these things.  My husband asked what my grades were.  When I told him my grades were A’s, he said, “Then I think you’re doing it right.  Did you ever think that the people who are so stressed are the ones that should change their approach?”  This doesn’t mean that my classmates were wrong.  It just means that I wasn’t wrong either.

Everyone is different, and everyone’s the same.  We all struggle just in innumerably different ways.  I will continue to make mistakes.  I will have many more moments of self-doubt, even self-loathing.  I will continue to drive my husband to the brink of lunacy with my clinginess and need for reassurance.

But I am not broken.  I am human.  And so are you.  And we are wonderful.

30 Minutes in My Head

Here is a snapshot of some of my thoughts within a 30 minute period.

8:45AM I left my work laptop at home.  I overhead coworkers asking a question; I know the answer but don’t want to appear like I’m eavesdropping.  I say nothing.  I peeled the gel polish off 2 nails on each hand, and now I have to meet a client.  I hope his mom doesn’t judge me.  And this backup laptop is VERY SLOW.  I need to get my nails redone, but I’d have to put it on my credit card, and that would be bad.  Snap, crackle, pop.  Seriously this laptop is annoying.  Or maybe just different.  Maybe if I got used to it I’d be fine.  Ugh, gotta poop.  Hope I’m not still sick.  Sometimes I wonder if the person at work that pays my bills just pays no attention or just doesn’t care.  They fired my last person for lack of productivity, but this person is much slower in my opinion.  Am I too judgmental?  I’m sometimes afraid of people. 9:10AM

Cleaning Naked

So I just cleaned my bathroom naked.  Why?  Not because I was worried about getting my clothes dirty or some need for cleanliness.  I had just gotten out of the bathtub and saw that the sink and toilet were needing to be cleaned.  I was worried that if I got dressed (which meant leaving the bathroom to get clothes) something would distract me causing the bathroom to not get cleaned.  So there I was nude scrubbing the tub, toilet, and sink, hoping the Scrubbing Bubbles wouldn’t get into a sensitive area that would cause mass discomfort.

This happens quite frequently.  Not the cleaning naked, but attempting to get something done without being fully prepared because I’m worried that if I don’t do it while I’m thinking about it, I will forget or get distracted.  If I can’t get it done, I ruminate on it until I can or until I get really irritated and just miserable to be around.  If I attempt mindfulness and “letting it go” until I can do something about it, I very often become distracted leading to numerous partially done tasks or completely undone tasks.  I forget to pay bills; I forget to get my license tags renewed; I forget my lunch; I forget to put on deodorant.  I’ve often wondered if in addition to OCD I also have AD/HD.  Is that even possible?  Or is it just that there are so many obsessive thoughts running through my head that I can’t possibly remember everything I need to remember?

I just know that I need to sweep the floors now, but I also have to pee, but I also need water, but I also need to pick up my husband’s socks, but I also need to find that $20 from yesterday which means I have to clean my purse which reminds me that I need to clean all my purses………

I need a nap.

Why “Margarita in pill form?”

I was never a big drinker.  At times some may have seen me a type of teetotaler.  Then I discovered Chipotle margaritas.  Not only were they delicious, but I noticed that after drinking one my “give-a-damn” went away.  I didn’t agonize over decisions like whether or not I should say what I was thinking.  I didn’t care.  I was calm.  I could enjoy things without worrying about what would happen next.

The problem with margaritas for me is that they have lots of calories.  As one of the major things I obsess about daily is my weight, AND to keep that same feeling of not caring would require more margaritas, I thought maybe I should seek another method.  The next time I went to my doctor, I asked if she had something that had the effects of a margarita in pill form.  She gave me a script for Xanax.

For the record, as a mental health professional I am wary of taking the Xanax.  It’s a PRN (as needed) script.  She gives me 15 at a time which usually lasts me a year, so by the time I’ve used them, the script has expired.  I struggle with the necessity of taking medication.  It’s still hard to accept that this is a real biological problem and not a deficit in my personality and character.  I don’t want to lean on medication as a crutch without making my best effort to work on my other “Coping Skills.”  I am working on accepting myself and the fact that I will need to work on this my entire life.  I am working toward “Mindfulness.”

So there’s the origin of this blog.  This is my journey as I continuously learn new ways to accept and cope with my anxiety and doubt.  Each post will be a little different.  Some will be narrative.  Some will be stream of thought.  The purpose is to attempt to capture my daily experience as accurately and REAL as I can.  I will falter.  I will annoy you (and me) and make you (and me) mad.  But that is real.

On a lighter note, after Lent (because I gave up alcohol for Lent), I will start posting a different margarita recipe that I’ve tried at the end of each post.  You know, because it’s in the title. 😉

Peace to all.  Namaste.

Another blog about mental illness? Really? How self-indulgent!

Yup.  That’s me.  In my lifelong quest to seek understanding from others and from myself, my OCD brain up and started a blog.  But I don’t care if you read it.  I don’t care if you hate it.  I don’t care if you even understand it.  Because most likely this blog isn’t for you.  This blog is for the people like me, the 2-3% of the US population that deal with the formal diagnosis of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and the millions of others without the official diagnosis that cope with intrusive thoughts every minute of every day.  This is not an educational blog.  This is not a persuasive blog.  This is my daily (weekly, biweekly) experience of my brain and how it functions in this world.  This is my attempt to let others that struggle know that they are not alone, and if in that attempt one person not struggling comes to a slightly better understanding of those of us that do, maybe even develop a glimmer of compassion, maybe begin to stop before reflexively saying, “Why can’t you relax?”, then I’ve accomplished something.  And that’s all I can ask for.

*It’s driving me “nuts” that I left a dangling participle.