I had someone yesterday tell me I was her Spirit Animal. Funny thing--it's not the first time I've been told that. I have visible nerdy tattoos (Harry Potter and Sailor Moon) and I wear what makes me happy (Lisa Frank or Black Milk leggings). The honest truth is that I try to be my own Spirit Animal. What can I do to make myself the happiest, no matter the mockery I may be? No matter that others may not understand me.
This stems from a different place than I think people expect. It's been over four years since losing one of my best friends to cancer, but his death continues to push me. It's one of the things that I use to remind myself to work, grow, and take chances. I do more than I think I can, I continue to commit myself to things that scare me, all in the service of being better than yesterday. I'd rather be tired tomorrow than not try something today and regret it. I was talking to someone recently about their fear of missing out, and I realized that's not my issue. It's not that I worry about missing out on something; it's that I worry about not trying something. It's a subtle difference, but I'll try to explain. I don't worry about missing all the things I don't know about; I worry about missing out on the opportunities right in front of me.
For example, I just returned from a work trip. I'm exhausted. It was a great trip, but travel is always tiring and stressful for me. I had tickets to go see Andrew WK on his speaking tour tonight. I got home last night. I've hardly seen my husband and I haven't even unpacked. I bought the tickets a couple of months ago, and didn't even consider not going. I don't care if I'm tired; I think Andrew WK's positivity and wisdom is exactly what I need in my life right now. It also brought back memories of my close group of friends, as they're the ones who introduced me to Andrew WK. This led me to thoughts of my friend who passed away. This is both painful and joyful. I miss him so much, but I know he'd be glad I had the party spirit tonight.
I work to make myself the happiest and the best person I can be. I know that I will never achieve "perfect" happiness, as I will never achieve perfection. I am a work in progress, and fully aware of it. All I can do is make decisions that will better me, that will make me happy, and that will help others. This is how I choose to make the world better--by always making myself better, and by just not quitting.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Awareness
Being aware of your own weaknesses doesn't always mean you know how to manage them or improve them. For example, I can feel when my anxiety is growing and spiraling, but that doesn't mean I can fix it. I start pulling my hair, have constant stomachaches, and am generally restless and fidgety, but I seem unable to resolve it. And in fact, sometimes that knowledge makes it even more difficult. Stepping back from myself and seeing the anxiety build and not knowing how to change it makes me more anxious. This simultaneous experience/observation brings me to the verge of tears and leaves me more tightly wound than the "original" anxiety.
My subconscious thought process becomes something along the lines of:
If I keep myself busy, I won't have time to be anxious/observe my anxiety. If I'm watching something on TV and on my phone, I don't have time to think about what I'm feeling. If I'm running on the elliptical machine and working on sheet music, there's no space for me to reflect on every error I've made over the last 34 years. This is more than just considering a misstep and learning from it; I make a concerted effort to do that. This is a spiral over one sentence I may have said 10 years ago without thinking through the outcome of those words and then utilizing that experience (and others like it) to determine that I am, in fact, a terrible person, unworthy of the love of friends family, and my spouse, and undeserving of my career.
When I put that all down and re-read it, it sounds crazy. That's what it's like to be inside my head. I really feel that way and am always looking for ways to re-center and relax myself. This too shall pass, right?
My subconscious thought process becomes something along the lines of:
If I keep myself busy, I won't have time to be anxious/observe my anxiety. If I'm watching something on TV and on my phone, I don't have time to think about what I'm feeling. If I'm running on the elliptical machine and working on sheet music, there's no space for me to reflect on every error I've made over the last 34 years. This is more than just considering a misstep and learning from it; I make a concerted effort to do that. This is a spiral over one sentence I may have said 10 years ago without thinking through the outcome of those words and then utilizing that experience (and others like it) to determine that I am, in fact, a terrible person, unworthy of the love of friends family, and my spouse, and undeserving of my career.
When I put that all down and re-read it, it sounds crazy. That's what it's like to be inside my head. I really feel that way and am always looking for ways to re-center and relax myself. This too shall pass, right?
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
Simplicity
At least I can say this: the waves of anxiety are ebbing. I'm still tense and wound up, but not nearly to the same extent as I was the last few days.
I mentioned recently that I was dealing with the anniversary of a close friend's death, and because of that, we were watching videos from high school and college. That, partnered with my binge of Stranger Things, has put me in a wistful state. Not in a "I wish I was 17 again" way, but in a yearning for a simpler time in my life. Maybe it's just because I'm getting older, and every day puts me closer to 35. I find myself longing for the time when I didn't have a cell phone and when summer break still existed.
I adore my husband and my job, and I certainly don't want to be in high school again. As I write this (from my smart phone, to which I am frustratingly attached), I think about when we were unavailable. When riding bikes aimlessly and walkie talkies were the coolest.
I think, that rather than viewing that time through rose colored glasses, I will work to find that same freedom and joy in my current life. In the same way I want to relax as fully as my cats do, I want to experience pure freedom and excitement the way a child does. I know I can do it.
I mentioned recently that I was dealing with the anniversary of a close friend's death, and because of that, we were watching videos from high school and college. That, partnered with my binge of Stranger Things, has put me in a wistful state. Not in a "I wish I was 17 again" way, but in a yearning for a simpler time in my life. Maybe it's just because I'm getting older, and every day puts me closer to 35. I find myself longing for the time when I didn't have a cell phone and when summer break still existed.
I adore my husband and my job, and I certainly don't want to be in high school again. As I write this (from my smart phone, to which I am frustratingly attached), I think about when we were unavailable. When riding bikes aimlessly and walkie talkies were the coolest.
I think, that rather than viewing that time through rose colored glasses, I will work to find that same freedom and joy in my current life. In the same way I want to relax as fully as my cats do, I want to experience pure freedom and excitement the way a child does. I know I can do it.
Monday, August 1, 2016
More anxiety
I can feel it. It's the tipping point in between barely keeping it together and tears. On one hand, I want to unleash it so I can move on. On the other, I push to keep myself in one piece. It doesn't help that I've not slept much, but being exhausted doesn't seem to make me sleep any better. So it remains right under the surface; the panic, the despair, the pain. If I can maintain another day or so, it'll be okay, I think.
Sunday, July 31, 2016
Anxiety
Oh, boy, am I feeling the anxiety tonight. It's one of those episodes that shows up out of nowhere to remind me of every single thing I've screwed up or every sentence I spoke without thinking about. As much as I am able to recognize these moments when they happen, I still struggle to talk myself down. I feel my chest getting tighter and have difficulty breathing, and my stomach hurts, all while my brain continues its slideshow of my lowest moments.
the funny thing is that I can step back and see this happening, but I can't pull myself out of it. I know I'm not a terrible person, and I mess up (like most of us do), but in these moments, all positives fall away while I immerse myself in a cycle of the lifetime of mistakes I've made and why they make me an awful person. I've been getting back into meditation, which is something I still have to work at. I'm hoping that as I continue to involve meditation in my life that I can use that mindfulness to manage my anxiety.
I think that this is always going to be work for me, but all I can do is work to be better than yesterday.
the funny thing is that I can step back and see this happening, but I can't pull myself out of it. I know I'm not a terrible person, and I mess up (like most of us do), but in these moments, all positives fall away while I immerse myself in a cycle of the lifetime of mistakes I've made and why they make me an awful person. I've been getting back into meditation, which is something I still have to work at. I'm hoping that as I continue to involve meditation in my life that I can use that mindfulness to manage my anxiety.
I think that this is always going to be work for me, but all I can do is work to be better than yesterday.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Quiet
I love rehearsing sheet music while running on the elliptical. It takes so much coordination (of which I have little) and therefore occupies my brain in a way few other activities do. I'm constantly working to find the "quiet" for my own brain. It's rare that I'm not buzzing with thoughts, and I know quieting that isn't really supposed to be work. For me, though, meditation is work. I enjoy it, but I'm always fighting myself for peace. Again, I get it. Let the thoughts wash over you, but don't follow them. I just haven't mastered that yet.
If I'm not doing at least three things, I almost don't know how to function. Maybe that's part of the problem with the internal chatter. Or maybe that's how I think I can soften the chatter. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't so anxiety-ridden. It's not simply thoughts; it's a continual review of anything I've messed up on in the last 20 years and how those things make me a terrible person. Then I continue to relive those choices. "Why didn't I say this instead?" "Why haven't I learned to slow down before I speak and get myself in trouble?" That's why I hate the middle of the night. I'm alone with my brain, and it doesn't let me forget anything. When I could be resting and replenishing myself, I'm busy beating myself up.
A deep-seated fear that the people close to you will leave you does strange things to your brain, which is why I think I send myself into a spiral so easily. I'm constantly giving myself reality checks, but it isn't enough. I have to work to be better at cutting myself slack and learning from my mistakes. How can I take these events and use them to be better tomorrow? How can I give myself some mental rest, rather than laying awake and rehashing every negative action in my adult life? I teach "progress, not perfection," but I'm terrible at leading by example at that. Man, even in that sentence, I'm criticizing myself. The idea that I see myself as less proficient at allowing myself to not be perfect is silly and kind of hilarious. I guess at least I see that and am aware of it. Through that, hopefully I can begin to find the quiet space in my mind.
If I'm not doing at least three things, I almost don't know how to function. Maybe that's part of the problem with the internal chatter. Or maybe that's how I think I can soften the chatter. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't so anxiety-ridden. It's not simply thoughts; it's a continual review of anything I've messed up on in the last 20 years and how those things make me a terrible person. Then I continue to relive those choices. "Why didn't I say this instead?" "Why haven't I learned to slow down before I speak and get myself in trouble?" That's why I hate the middle of the night. I'm alone with my brain, and it doesn't let me forget anything. When I could be resting and replenishing myself, I'm busy beating myself up.
A deep-seated fear that the people close to you will leave you does strange things to your brain, which is why I think I send myself into a spiral so easily. I'm constantly giving myself reality checks, but it isn't enough. I have to work to be better at cutting myself slack and learning from my mistakes. How can I take these events and use them to be better tomorrow? How can I give myself some mental rest, rather than laying awake and rehashing every negative action in my adult life? I teach "progress, not perfection," but I'm terrible at leading by example at that. Man, even in that sentence, I'm criticizing myself. The idea that I see myself as less proficient at allowing myself to not be perfect is silly and kind of hilarious. I guess at least I see that and am aware of it. Through that, hopefully I can begin to find the quiet space in my mind.
Monday, July 18, 2016
Loss
We've all lost loved ones. It's part of the human experience. It's how we process things that differs. This is a day that makes me more thoughtful about this subject. This would've been the birthday of one of my best friends, but we lost him to brain cancer far too young.
The thing that resonates the most with me is how strange it is how quickly someone is gone. We have such a short time together, and it doesn't matter how much time you have with someone you love, it's not enough. And then in the blink of an eye, they're just gone. And in the low, quiet moments when I think about Greg, the "he lives on in your memory" doesn't really help. Let's be honest: there are times when than sentiment is lovely, but there are times when it doesn't matter. He can't answer my calls, he can't complain about my taste in movies, and he can't laugh at me for my lack of car knowledge. He's gone.
These moments are when I'm grateful for technology, because I can look back on text messages, Facebook messages, and all the videos Michael made. For me, that's how Greg's memory continues. Michael and I watch the old videos, and we still find stories to tell that the other hasn't heard. We laugh over all the silly things we did and marvel at how much older we've all gotten. Time can be sneaky.
My mid-30s have been a time of small revelations. Mostly they're silly things: I don't like celery and have been lying to myself my whole life. Today, though, I had the realization that if it weren't for Greg, I don't know if Michael and I would've started dating. Some of you know that I have a core group of friends, and we've been tight since high school. Greg was friends with everyone, and he was the one who helped pull me into the group I still call my best friends. Without that, Michael may still have been ignoring me, and who knows where I would be now. It certainly wouldn't be as wonderful as the life I share with Michael.
I think the other thing that gets me about today is that it's bracketed by the birthdays of one of my nieces and one of my nephews. Those kiddos are awfully dear to me, and there's something incredible about their birthdays being on either side of his.
Many of you know that I process a lot of things verbally. I'll go on talking about something to work out a solution or to understand what I'm feeling. It's not that I expect you to respond, it's that I'm working things through out loud. It's how I move on from something, and it's why I have very few secrets. I'm just not good at keeping things to myself. I suppose that's what this is all about. I need a place to dislodge all of this from my brain, and I suppose this is the best place.
So what, then, do I take from this? As always, it's a reminder to be better. How can I be as good of a friend to others as Greg was to me? How can I use my own pain to help others through theirs? At the end of the day, that's all I'm looking for: to help others and leave things ever so slightly better.
The thing that resonates the most with me is how strange it is how quickly someone is gone. We have such a short time together, and it doesn't matter how much time you have with someone you love, it's not enough. And then in the blink of an eye, they're just gone. And in the low, quiet moments when I think about Greg, the "he lives on in your memory" doesn't really help. Let's be honest: there are times when than sentiment is lovely, but there are times when it doesn't matter. He can't answer my calls, he can't complain about my taste in movies, and he can't laugh at me for my lack of car knowledge. He's gone.
These moments are when I'm grateful for technology, because I can look back on text messages, Facebook messages, and all the videos Michael made. For me, that's how Greg's memory continues. Michael and I watch the old videos, and we still find stories to tell that the other hasn't heard. We laugh over all the silly things we did and marvel at how much older we've all gotten. Time can be sneaky.
My mid-30s have been a time of small revelations. Mostly they're silly things: I don't like celery and have been lying to myself my whole life. Today, though, I had the realization that if it weren't for Greg, I don't know if Michael and I would've started dating. Some of you know that I have a core group of friends, and we've been tight since high school. Greg was friends with everyone, and he was the one who helped pull me into the group I still call my best friends. Without that, Michael may still have been ignoring me, and who knows where I would be now. It certainly wouldn't be as wonderful as the life I share with Michael.
I think the other thing that gets me about today is that it's bracketed by the birthdays of one of my nieces and one of my nephews. Those kiddos are awfully dear to me, and there's something incredible about their birthdays being on either side of his.
Many of you know that I process a lot of things verbally. I'll go on talking about something to work out a solution or to understand what I'm feeling. It's not that I expect you to respond, it's that I'm working things through out loud. It's how I move on from something, and it's why I have very few secrets. I'm just not good at keeping things to myself. I suppose that's what this is all about. I need a place to dislodge all of this from my brain, and I suppose this is the best place.
So what, then, do I take from this? As always, it's a reminder to be better. How can I be as good of a friend to others as Greg was to me? How can I use my own pain to help others through theirs? At the end of the day, that's all I'm looking for: to help others and leave things ever so slightly better.
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