OMG! I DID STUFF!!!!

It's entirely appropriate language and punctuation to use.

Today was a typical Sunday. I stayed up until almost 3 am because I couldn't sleep; finally took a pill. Then I woke up at 11 am.  At least I slept for 8 hours, which is good for you, right?

I dawdled, knowing I had so much work to do that I'd put off since Friday (down heah in the South, folks take Good Friday off, including school and gov'mint offices, y'all). Almost all of what I had to do was work-related — a press release I'll get paid for as the contract progresses, and the work samples for the potential contract, plus updating my professional web site.  I also have my therapy homework. I just couldn't start.

I wrote emails. I checked blogs repetitively. I drank two large mugs of tea.

Finally, I ran out of ways to delay myself and I started. Nothing like a tight deadline to motivate one! And then something weird happened. I. Got. Productive.

Here's the list of what I accomplished today:

• edited a press release
• added 6 or 7 PDFs to my portfolio on my computer
• added the same 6 or 7 PDFs to my web site area
• updated my web site: made minor changes to 5 pages, major changes to 2, added 13 or 14 new pages, included all the correct links (and tested and tested), tested and fixed some more (uploaded and tested and fixed and uploaded)
• via email, asked for testimonials/recommendations (from probably 7 people) that I can post on my web site (have received 4 yeses and no noes)
• swept the deck, including the deck chairs and around the door
• took took the two large boxes that have been lingering in the living room out to the storage closet on the deck
• paid a bill
• boiled some eggs
• ate some eggs for dinner when I realized it was almost 8 pm

In between were at least 30 texts with friends.

I guess the drugs have kicked in.

I hold my breath

I found out, only within the past decade, that I shared a rather odd trait with my mother: I hold my breath when I am stressed. Given how much stress I've experienced the past several years, I seem to spend much of my life suffering from oxygen deprivation.

When I'm emotionally tense — which is most of the time — my muscles are tense. All of them. It's probably the only reason I have any muscle tone at all. If I'm going to die of asphyxiation, at least my core muscles have enough structure to keep me upright until rigor mortis sets in.

I don't notice when I stop breathing; I notice when I start breathing again, or when I need to start breathing again. This goes on all day, off and on. I have no idea if it happens at night, but I wouldn't be surprised. 

When I was little, I had nightmares fairly often. Sometimes they were about monsters, but one repeated for years. Each time, I would wake up, my heart beating so hard and fast I thought I could see it against my chest. My room was dark and my covers were over my head. I was absolutely convinced that a huge black dog was sitting next to my bed, waiting for some movement, some sound, that showed I was awake. Once that happened, I knew it would pounce on me aand rip my throat out. So I would breathe as shallowly as I could and I would hold myself absolutely still. I probably didn't fall back asleep so much as pass out.

When I grew older, the big black dog changed into home invaders, but the concept was the same: any indication I was awake would result in a horrible death.

By the time I was in my mid- to late-30s those nightmares were infrequent, and I rarely have them now. But the feeling is the same: if I don't succeed in whatever I think I need to do, whether it's act like I'm asleep or make enough money to support myself, I will die a horrible death. I have to make the macabre observation that now it appears my nightmare occurs in the daylight.

I'll admit that dying doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore, now that Mom is gone, but that might simply be because I'm not staring into the eyes of Death at the moment. A horrible death, however, is still to be avoided.

It's easier to tell someone else to breathe. To tell myself to breathe, I first have to be aware that I am not doing so. Maybe I need a small looped recording, some sound chip I can wear in an earring or a necklace. Over and over will be a voice, a calm and relaxed voice, saying "Breathe, honey. Just breathe."

Temporary

Having my belongings packed into moving boxes indicates to me a temporary state, a state where I know I'm going to move again. I have lived out of boxes since 1991 when my now-ex-boyfriend and I moved into a house that turned out to be dirty and too uncomfortable to live in. In our next apartment, we kept boxes packed in the second bedroom, even tho' the apartment was more than comfortable. If I had lived there alone I might have kept it. But I left it when I left him. Perhaps we knew the relationship was, by that time, temporary.

When I bought my first house, I left a roomful of boxes packed, taking up the space in my second bedroom for far too long. Then I moved them upstairs so I could at least inhabit that bedroom as an office and a comfy place to hang out, with a twin bed in the corner where I could look outside into my back yard. I lived there for eight years — hardly temporary. When I moved almost 300 miles away because everything had changed, all I cared to take with me permanently was that house, something I long for even now 10 years later.

I used to be so good

When I was younger, I was a morning person. I kept my living space — bedroom, dorm room, apartment, house — clean and organized. When I made a commitment, I met it.

When I started having problems with anxiety and depression, particularly in my early 30s at the Job From Hell, I started calling in sick when I didn't want to do something, mostly because of severe anxiety or depression. I began backing out more and more. It became more routine for me to break a commitment rather than to meet one. 

Over the course of a couple of decades, I became a person different from the person I knew I was. Knowing this added to my feelings of depression.

When I determined that I would change my life, I determined that I would change that aspect, too. And I did ... for awhile.

I called in sick a couple of times to a new job last summer, and I'm not sure why. Stress. But I got back to doing better. 

Then I was two weeks late for a project quote because I let my mental state command me. And today I backed out of a meeting and let someone else keep notes for me. I have yet to talk to her about it because I slept for four hours this afternoon — another way I have of avoiding what pains or stresses me.

I'm late on every one of my bills and those of the estate's. I owe money to the Steps to cover their tax burden from one of our bequests. I not only didn't get my taxes done, I didn't manage to file for an extension either.

I can barely breathe.

At this rate, it wouldn't be difficult for me to simply take to my bed for a few weeks. Except that I do need to at least pretend I'm looking for work. 

Dear god I hope the house sells soon. I don't know if a bit more financial security will make a difference in my personal integrity or not. I'm not sure what will.

Positive thinking --- what do I want?

The owner of a blog today gave us a topic to discuss and apply to our own lives.

"Think positively – and by positively, I mean simply “I want this,” instead of “I don’t want this,” – about one specific thing you want for one week. Then, next week, we’ll check in, and see what kind of progress has been made.?

I considered this and realized I was up against two of my issues: being positive, and asking for what I want.

When it comes to being positive, I've come to a place where what I think and say tends to be a negative: I don't want to run out of money, I don't want to be unemployed, I don't want to be depressed. It's like saying "don't forget your keys:" your mind skips the "don't" and hears "forget your keys." Kids do the same thing, so it's recommended that you start statements to them in the positive: "remember your coat."

As for asking for what I want, I run into a couple of difficulties. First, if I ask for something big, like enough money that I don't have to work if I don't want to (such as by winning the lottery), I then tell myself that many other people need it as badly as or worse than I do, so what makes me so special, what makes me think I deserve that? The other main issue is thinking maybe the Universe doesn't want me to have what I want. I am a non-diest and I don't believe in a pre-planned life or destiny/fate.  Yet, I am having problems because I think the Universe is playing against me, which then makes me feel that it is hopeless even to try, to want, to wish — impossible to win.

I've spent the day not being able to state my want for the week. Plus, there are SO many things I want; however, most of them require me to do something, and I will cover under a different experiment.

Here is one want that has to come from outside of me. I want to be offered work within the next week, where I can work at least part-time from home often, and that pays me my preferred rate.

I've written this and sent it out to the quantum particles of the universe. I'll come back in a week and let you know how it goes.

That sinking feeling

I did nothing today. I take that back; finally, at the end of the day, I put the dishes in the dishwasher and started it. I shook out the toaster crumbs. And I wiped down the parts of the counter I have access to, as well as the inside of the sink. And I only did that because there are these small brown insects flying around, bothering the shit out of me. I want the place cleaner before I complain to the office.

I haven't checked on the as-yet-unplanted plants in a few days. They are probably dead and I'll need to replace them. I haven't even sat out on the deck in the recycled-plastic adirondack chairs I bought in January.

I didn't leave the apartment.

One of the sites I visit, JulieLand, had a very interesting tarot card and explanation on it from last night.  It talked about having a scarcity mindset, among others things, and that spoke to me. I am practically screaming with anxiety over the scarcity of money in my life right now. In fact, I'm so anxious and downright terrified, that I wondered if I wouldn't be better of dead. No, I'm not going to hurt myself. But I've been wondering what's the point of my life anymore?

I have no family that I grew up with anymore: my entire nuclear family is dead, and my extended family is no family. I haven't spoken with most of my extended relatives, some of them for almost 2 decades.

Yes, I have friends who count themselves as family, more or less, and I have new friends who care. I know that there are people who would grieve if I died. But I have no real safety net. If I run out of money, I am out of luck. I have never been this close to absolute broke before. It's not like I even have expensive things to sell.

I've been out of my primary profession for long enough that I don't know the current tools, work-styles, and language anymore. And I don't want to work there either. It burn me out so much, I think it might kill me this time. At the same time, I need work.

The potential new profession is in its infancy and so far I'm not actually making money. Part of that is my fault — I haven't been learning and I lack the confidence to sell myself at this new work. I have almost nothing to show potential employers or clients. And because I am so stuck by depression and anxiety, I'm making no progress.

I am failing because I cannot function. And my failing is contributing to my lack of functioning. I'm in a death spiral.

I'm not a major part of anyone's life, except for my BFF. I'm the only one who knows him almost entirely. I'm the only one he can be himself with.

I cannot reach out for help or comfort when I am like this. I am sinking and I don't even feel like calling for a lifeline, because there is nothing that I feel as compelling me to live for.

i won't hurt myself: that would damage so many people and I cannot do that. But I'm not sure I would step out of the way of a speeding truck, either.

I know what I'm supposed to feel and think. I just don't.

I blog, therefore I ... blog

I'm posting daily, even if I don't feel like writing anything, because I'm cautiously stepping back into the concept of commitment. I used to handle commitment quite well, but that's not been the case in quite some time now.

First, there was discovering an employer does not proffer the same commitment to their employee — you — as they expect you to give to them. Then there was the boyfriend who changed the terms of his commitment — without telling me. When my life grew more difficult, my ability to commit faded. I am now very good at either avoiding commitment or at canceling.

This blog is the beginning of regaining that aspect of integrity.

And all of this is a lead in to the fact that today has been a dreadful day and I don't want to talk about it, but I did want to keep up my unbroken string.

So, good night. Enjoy whatever you are doing with whoever you are doing it with.

Delayed actions

I sat in therapy and cried today. At the end of the session, I pointed out to my therapist that she was now in a very exclusive club. I have rarely gotten even teary in other therapy sessions and with other therapists. Today I was in tears for most of the session.

She suggested that I not worry about accomplishing anything right now. I am so depressed that I feel proud of myself when I take a shower and put on actual clothes.

I know that for people who have never experienced this kind of depression, it is very difficult to understand. I was trying to explain it to a friend today. He's one of those people who turn adversity into motivation. He wins. He succeeds. He is trying very hard to understand what I am going through.

The main thing that I can articulate is that my cognitive functions are almost completely cut off from everything else. I'll think "I could pick up a little around here" and ... nothing happens. I don't move. I simply move on. "I don't really need any more ice cream," I think to myself as I open the freezer, dish ice cream out, and sit down to eat.

So my therapist isn't expecting any homework from me right now. I'm really not capable. But I see my new psychiatrist tomorrow and both my therapist and I hope that she can help me get my brain chemicals squared away. Because I am not functioning.

Besides, my money isn't going to last that long.

Hypothetically Positive

One of my past therapists suggested a behavioral way to affect my mood when I am depressed. There is a corresponding cognitive aspect, as well.

When I was feeling down (and at the time, it was always), I was to smile, to make sure my posture was good --- shoulders back, head up --- and pick up my feet when I walked, rather than letting them kind of shuffle. These are behaviors most of us have when we feel positive and cheerful. (And I do find that when I am feeling most depressed or anxious, my head is bent way down, I look at the ground, and it requires much effort to not only bring my head up, but to keep it up.)

Cognitively, I was to consciously make positive statements to myself. If I found myself making a negative statement (I'm such a clutz!), I was to find a way to state it more positively (I may not be a ballet dancer, but I can get where I'm going!). These may not be the best examples, but I'm having difficulties making positive statements out of negatives right now, which is weird because I had a fairly good day. Except for eating all that chocolate. Why do I even buy it?

A friend of mine has been working on changing her mindset to a more positive one, and she says it seems to be working. I vaguely remember it working for me in the past. Therefore, I'm going to work on it. 

A sample of negatives I want to make more positive:

• I have no control over my eating and can't stop eating all the sweets in the house.
• I'm fat, and I'm stupid for not doing what I need to do to get healthier.
• I'll be alone and lonely forever.
• I'm lazy and I'll never find new work and I'll always be poor.
• I never pay my bills on time. I'll have bad credit and never be able to buy a house.

Now I'm just depressing myself. If this is what's going on inside my head (and there is more), then no wonder I'm a wreck. I need to spend some time thinking about how to reframe/reposition these statements. More fun for me.

I accomplished many things today: I ran errands; I bought some things I needed for the house and for personal needs; I bought an iced tea machine because I just don't make it myself --- this will be a lot easier; that damned candy, some of which is in the fridge, so I didn't eat it all; priced out things I'd like, such as curtain rods for the living room and bedroom and hand mixers; and I just shopped without buying. I saw pillows that would look great in my bedroom. I some perfect ones for the living room. But ... I'm not earning money, so it makes no sense to spend money on non-necessities (the iced tea machine is so a necessity; it's cheaper than buying pre-made tea or soda!). I've been thinking I should consider buying a simple sewing machine so I could make things for the apartment, instead of buying them. Right. Not like me to try to load myself down with too many things to do or think about.

So I will work on being more positive, and I still have my therapy homework to do. 

Is there something in your life that you could frame in a more positive way? Do you want to be more positive? What are your strategies?