Tomorrow

Something weird has been happening.  

I am considering making two major life adjustments in the coming months.

I transitioned (fairly smoothly) from my dietitian of 3.5 years to my new one, 

who, like my therapist, is now stuck with me for the duration of her career.

I'm cooking real food at least twice a week.

I'm eating more veggies than I ever before.

(Yes, I know, I've been a vegetarian who doesn't like veggies.)

My career is blossoming at a rate with which I can hardly keep up.

And this week has been one of the busiest, most chaotic weeks of the year.  

Yet.  

Here it is.

Sunday.

A much needed one, as I finally have a day where I can stay 

in my jammies all day and snuggle with the Pup. 

And I'm sitting on the couch watching my favorite team play spring ball.

And I am thinking of the errands I want need to run.

Sunday afternoon.  In my jammies.

And yet I'm readying to go grocery shopping - my least favorite shopping behind clothes.

This is all positive, good, growth.  

At least that's what my therapist said.

So why do I feel like a stranger in my own world right now?

Positive movement = massive tears?

I know it's not gonna be instantaneous.

But when am I gonna be able to enjoy the positive?

When is it gonna stop feeding the depression?

Melancholy may make a good friend,

but I don't know how much more of it I can take.

Running

I run a lot even though I don't use my feet.
I realize that now.
I run when things are uncomfortable.
I run from change.
I run out of fear.
I run from sadness.
I run from anger.
I run from hurt and pain and discomfort.

And I run from my head.
My own thoughts.
And that's the hardest running of all.

Therapy.
In my mind, major disaster session,
though my therapist said all was fine.
The time to talk will come when the words are ready.
No time limits.
No pressure.

Except all of this pressure from me.

I tried to talk I really did try I came close too.
At one point I had wandered off into silence for a bit.
She asked if we were done for the day.
I couldn't answer in words,
but I did un-bury my face and uncurl myself from ball on the chair that I had become.

Then the tears came.
Lots of them.
So uncomfortable.
I tried.
The words were on my tongue but they couldn't escape.
It just wasn't happening, no matter how much I wanted to speak them.
I told Her I wish she had was a mind reader.
She laughed. Not that easy she said.

She's right.

Maybe next time.

I can't hold this secret for much longer.

Maybe next time........
Maybe next time.........

OverReacting

I don't know about you, but I'm really, really masterful when it comes to overreacting.  Like, I could have a PhD in overreacting.

Take today, for example.

The midwest got pummeled with snow.  I mean lots and lots of snow.  We're talking 12 inches (or more, in some areas!)  So Monday's therapy session was cancelled as the roads were impassable.  Totally and completely.   (I will add that school was cancelled, too!)

Then today comes along and brings sub-zero temperatures with even colder wind chills.
No worries, though, therapy was scheduled for this morning, the roads were clear, all good, right?

Wrong.


My car decided it didn't want to start.  Not even a slight roar of the engine.  So therapy was cancelled again.

What did I do?  Burst in to tears, sobbing uncontrollably, for quite a while, actually.  I was such a wreck, I couldn't even call my therapist.  We communicated by text, which is usually a rare occurrence, reserved solely for schedule changes.  Today?  I broke that rule.  I whined and cried and essentially threw a temper tantrum.  All via text.  Not cool on my part.  Missing therapy two days in a row?  In the state I've been in?  Not cool.  So not cool.

However.
Neither was my reaction.
I mean, in the grand scheme of things, missing therapy here and there is really no big deal.  It's a small blip in life.  As my therapist said "Missing your therapy appointment is a survivable event."  And she's right.  Except I didn't handle it well this morning.

And as I sit here, nine hours later, still waiting for the tow truck to come get my dead car, the horrible headache is still lingering from my morning breakdown.

Guess I know what I need to add to my "to learn" list this year.........

Looking Back....

I don't know if it's the season, or what, but today I journeyed back in time.... I found myself visiting blog posts from a year ago, and I think I'm pleased by what I've found?  Maybe?  Sorta?

A year ago today, I posted "Got Feelings?" on the blog.  The post was mostly about the fact that at that time, I was constantly fighting tears, and getting kind of sick of them!  The quote "I hate the moment when suddenly my anger turns into tears." was incredibly fitting at the time, because a year ago, I was still refusing to feel any anger.  I just couldn't let myself feel that emotion.  I thought I'd burst and be overwhelmed if I let myself feel anger.

Fast forward to the present moment.... yeah, I'm still battling tears, and I'm still pretty depressed.... BUT.... I have begun the process of learning to FEEL my FEELINGS.  All of them.  Yep.... even anger.  I still am working to identify some of these feelings, and the things that trigger them, but the good news is that I am actually able to feel them without exploding!  I think that's a pretty good accomplishment!

Still working on a lot, still dealing with a lot of the same crud, but at a different layer.  It's kinda like I'm reading and writing the next chapter all at the same time.  I'm rather glad that I chose to do a look back today, because I tend to focus on how much more work I have ahead of me instead of pausing and realizing that I really have come a long way!

Allergies?

I generally do not post these ecards that are floating around facebook and pinterest and the internet in general. 

But I couldn't not post this one.

It is SO fitting for my world these days.  It seems that allergy season has been extended for an indefinite length of time.  I mean, why else would I constantly be tearing up? 

Right?

One of those days....

Have you ever had one of those days where you look back on it as you unwind from the day, and are shocked at all that transpired?

That was my today.  The day flew all-too-quickly, which was rather nice for a Monday.  On the same note, it felt very disjointed because of external issues that cropped up, demanding immediate attention.

I was really looking forward to seeing my therapist tonight, to debrief, and hopefully get my head on a little bit straighter after the chaos of the past few days.  While it was a great session, and a great conversation, and I left her office feeling pretty ok.... I got in the car and cried my way home.  No words, either, to explain why.  Just an unleashing of tears that I can't explain.  I just wish they had arrived earlier, so that I could have been in therapy at the time and could have explored the possibilities for them with my therapist.

Some days just leave me wondering how I made it thorough the day in one piece, while still managing to plant some good in the world.  Today was one of those days.  I planted good seeds in the lessons taught at school today, and then my tears watered them all evening long.  Maybe that means they'll grow faster?

Challenge 8, Part 2: Learning

The other night I was invited to a friend's for dinner.  It had been a really long day, part of this crazy long week, and I was exhausted.  I knew that if I went to dinner, I'd not be good company, as I'd likely be slowly slipping into that place that I land in when I'm overtired.  The friend who invited me is one who I can lean on, and actually have in past emotional overload situations.

So when I was invited, I really, really wanted to go.  I knew that if I went, I'd get good food, and good friendship... which is great.  But I knew that I'd also probably lose it.  I don't want to do that.  I know how sensitive I am at the moment.  I know that I'm emotionally spent, and just want someone to wrap their arms around me and comfort me while I cry.  And this friend would have done that.  But I just couldn't do it.

This is one of those times when loneliness kicks in, and I wish that I had a significant other... Cause if I were in a healthy relationship, I'd have someone there for me when I need that kind of comfort.  And if I were in a healthy relationship, it'd mean that I'd have that kind of relationship with myself, too.  The one where I'd have learned how to comfort myself appropriately.  Where I've learned how to sit with and feel my emotions.  Where I'd have learned to let anger out without explosions and rage.  Where I'd have learned to feel the whole range of feelings, and not let them suffocate me.

Cause I know all of that needs to be present in my relationship with myself before I'll ever be able to have a healthy relationship with someone else.

I have a lot to learn...  I am willing to do the work.... I just don't think I'm there yet...

Challenge 8, Part 1: Learning

It's ironic that this week's topic is learning, because boy did I do a lot of that this week, and much of it was unexpected and happened in a way that I didn't realize I was even learning!

I know this quote is somewhat cliche, and a bit old school, but this was my week (except for the last line about being beautiful, of course.)  I found an inner strength that I didn't realize I had.  I was braver than I thought I could be.  And even more than that, through all the insanity, I remained calm.  At least on the outside.

See, this week was back to school week.  Time to set up the classroom.  Four whole days dedicated to setting up and getting ready.  But my room wasn't ready for me to set it up.  It wasn't even ready for me to be in until after quittin' time on day four.  Which meant that for four days, I watched my colleagues get their rooms ready.  I watched them excitedly open their classroom supply orders and put everything away.

And I wanted to cry.  I wanted to yell.  I wanted to throw a temper tantrum.  Cause my room was the ONLY room not ready.  Not safe to be in because of construction chaos.

Instead, I stayed strong.  I kept a brave face.  I made myself as useful as I could.  And when I did need to cry (which happened the whole way home each day) I escaped to my good friend's quiet classroom.  No one knew how upset I was on the inside.  And it seemed that the more upset I got inside, the calmer I became on the outside.  I've always been able to do that IN the classroom.  But this?  Even this was more than I expected.

So what did I learn?  That when push comes to shove, and strong is the only thing you can be, I can pull it together and be that. (And fall apart afterward.  Which for now, is gonna have to be ok!)

Hitting the Wall

Figuratively, of course.  But that's where I am.  I've finally hit the wall.

I've made it three whole days (which I know in the grand scheme of things, isn't very long) at school, busying myself as best as I can helping others get things done and get rooms ready, all the while, patiently waiting for my room to be ready.  And I have been VERY patient.

But today, I reached my limit.  I am a very emotional person, but I have been very proud of the fact that I haven't once cried at school over the situation.  Other teachers in somewhat similar situations as mine, have been in tears multiple times.  I'm the only one who still isn't in my classroom.  And had this been last year, the year before, heck, had this happened any other year, I'd have been in tears at school.

This year, instead, I'm holding it together at school.  All day long I'm able to stay upbeat and positive, and truly enjoying having time to be helping others.  Then I get in my car, and cry my way home.  I have cried my way to therapy twice this week, and cried my way home.  I cried my way to my nutritionist's office, and cried my way home.  And it's only Wednesday.

I have finally hit my breaking point, and tonight has been a tear-filled, messy, messy night.  I crashed into that wall hard.  And it hurts.

I know that by the time my students walk in on that first day (only 5 short days away) my room will be presentable.  It might not be up to my standards, but it will work, and when those smiling faces walk in, I will be smiling right back at them.

Challenge 4, Part 4: Self Respect

Please respect me as an introvert.  I'm trying to respect me as an introvert, too.

"The way you treat yourself sets the standard for others on how you 

demand to be treated.  Don't settle for anything other than respect."

"Respect yourself enough to walk away from anything that no 

longer serves you, grows you, or makes you happy."

"Cutting people out of my life does not mean 

I hate them, it simply means I respect me."

I wish I could give credit to whoever spoke the words above.  

My therapist has helped me see how powerful self respect is, and how hard it can be to uphold.  I have a very hard time being around my parents, as I am often the wrongful target of their anger and frustration. Now when the attacks begin, I leave.  When they confront me for leaving later, I can now tell them, just because I left doesn't mean I don't love you. In my head, the second part of that sentence is I am just learning to love myself more.  Like I said - a year and a half later, and 9 out of 10 times, I can remove myself from the situation that is not healthy or respectful.  Yes it's hard.  Yes I often call my therapist in tears as soon as I leave.  But it's a step in the direction of self respect.  And that's the place in which I'd like to live.

Don't Want To Think...

Arielle's Word-of-the-Day: TEARS

June Blog Challenge Day 19: TEARS

Tears

Why do I cry?

The constant threat
of tears

is getting old.
Fast. 

If tears are what

make rainbows

in our eyes

my world should be

filled

with color. 

Yet I often

choose

to live within the

extremes.
Black

or

white.

I want

a world

full of color.

I just wish
I could find it

with a 

few

less

tears.

© MGD, June 2012

I cry a lot.  Every emotion elicits tears - sadness, happiness, anger, excitement... The emotions have been plentiful the past few weeks, and this poem was written after a rather intense conversation one day last week.  I need frequent reminders that there really is a world full of colorful options, and I don't have to stick with extremes.  It's a good thing for me to be reminded of regularly, maybe one day soon I'll remember that my favorite color is purple, and not black or white.

Prompt: Tears can be healthy. Tears can be reminders of things past. Tears can be freeing. Beautiful. Tears can be a release. What do tears mean for you? Do you cry a lot? Not at all? What is it that makes you cry? Consider what feels right for you for this prompt.

Arielle's Word-of-the-Day: EMOTIONAL

June Blog Challenge Day 10: EMOTIONAL

My mom likes to tell this story about how when I was an infant, I never cried.  She even took me to the doctor because she was worried that there was something wrong with me since I never cried.  Well... I guess I made up for it, cause she ends the story by saying once I hit adolescence, I made up for the lack of tears as an infant and toddler, that's for sure.

An emotional mess.  Or at least overly emotional.  Both could describe me, though some would prefer to use the second description as it's slightly less mean, I suppose.

It's interesting... I was really, really good at stuffing my emotions and not letting them out unless I was alone.  Even then, I struggled to let any emotion out whatsoever.  I hated feeling my feelings.  I hated being emotional.  So I just stopped feeling.  That was probably one of the benefits of my ed, or at least it was in my mind.  It kept me numb.  Numb was good.  Numb didn't hurt.  Numb didn't cause emotional reactions to anything.

Once I began the recovery process, all hell broke loose.  I remember the moment when I started feeling things again, when my emotions made their re-entry into my life.  I think it was about five months into recovery, and I had regained enough so that my body was beginning to function slightly more normally.  It was as if I was given some magical tonic that unleashed the flood of emotions I had stuffed all those years.

It sucked.

It still sucks, actually.  I'm not a fan of this stage in the game.  I'm looking forward to the time when my emotions are not overwhelming or overblown, which is where they are now.  I have rather inflated responses to situations that don't need that strong of a response.  I know that.  I also know that one day, I will learn to feel these emotions as they arise, and will not overreact the way I do currently.

The reality of it is that I am a very, very sensitive person.  My whole body is sensitive.  You know that warning on medicines?  The one that says like 1 in 150,000 will have a reaction to something?  I'm that 1.  That's why one of my goals through this recovery process is to learn how I can handle my emotions appropriately for me.

Because of my sensitivities, my response may never be what others consider *typical* but you know what?  I think I'm ok with that. 

Prompt: Are you emotional? Do you wish  you could be? Do you respect people who are emotional or consider them  unstable? Does emotion have a place in recovery? Let your mind take off!

One down, three to go

It's been exactly one month since I tearfully said good-bye to a very important person in my life.  In just under three months I'll get to welcome this person back, and yes, it will probably be rather tearful too.

I feel like the month has crawled by.  A part of me really wants the rest of the time to go quickly, but even that is bittersweet, because around the same time this person comes back, I will say farewell to my class, send my students on to the next grade, and head into summer, anxiously awaiting what lies ahead in the coming fall.

Time is such a funny thing.  It reminds me of the riddle, "What weighs more, a pound of bricks or a pound of feathers?"  (In case you forgot, a pound weighs the same, no matter what you're weighing.)  It's been unseasonably warm here, though yesterday, it was unseasonably cold.  It's amazing, though, what time does.  If you think about it, 38 degrees Fahrenheit feels a lot colder in October than it does in April.  38 degrees is 38 degrees.  But time makes it feel different, at least to me.

In the fall, we've just come off of summer, and 38 degrees feels rather cold.  In the spring, we've just come off of winter, and 38 degrees feels nice and warm.

Does this mean that the time that is passing right now, is passing extra slowly because I miss this person way more than I care to admit?  Or does it mean time is passing quickly, because I'm already not looking forward to saying good-bye to my students at the end of the school year?

Time.  A funny thing it is.  Mixed with a little perspective it can sure make things complicated.

"Time is the longest distance between two places."

-- Tennessee Williams

Sadness

"The saddest kind of sad is the sad that tries not to be sad.  

You know, when sad tries to bite it's lip and not cry and 

smile and go "no, I'm happy for you."  That's when it's really sad." 

-- John Mayer

I'm sad.  I'm really, really sad.  And I can't shake it.  It's been building for a few weeks.  I knew the day would arrive.  I knew I'd be sad.  I just figured that since I'd been prepared for it for months, that it wouldn't be as hard.  But it was.  And the sadness?  That's even harder.

A friend of mine told me a story about her daughter.  When her daughter was 2, the family moved abroad for two years.  They came back to visit a few times a year, and each time they left, their little girl, so smart for her age, would never say goodbye.  Instead, she said see you later or something of the like.

I get it.

Saying goodbye hurts.  It hurts so much I can't put words to it.  But saying see you later is a lot less finite, a lot less hurt-filled.

For me, at least in this case, I don't think it would have mattered how I said it.  It was going to hurt.  A lot.  A lot more than I was prepared for.  Thing is, in the grand scheme of things, it's just a short farewell.  Just a few short months (15 weeks) until  that painful goodbye turns into a cheerful welcome back.

It's going to hurt for a while.  I'm going to be sad about it for a while.  I'm going to cry about it for a while.  All that might be perfectly normal for the situation, but I still don't like it.  I don't like that I spent my last 45 minutes with this person in tears, and not the pretty "dab at the corner of your eye with a lace hanky" tears.  The messy ones.  The  "I hate that someone is even looking at me cause I'm that much of a mess" tears.  Unfortunately, as much as we've been preparing for this day, this departure, there have been more messy tears than I care to admit.

Supposedly all this sadness and emotional stuff is a really good thing.  It means that I allowed myself to trust someone enough to care about them, and to let them care about me... which is why their departure hurts so much.  Both the sadness and the tears are natural and appropriate in this situation.  Supposedly all this is a good thing.

I think it's a load of crap.

I guess it's good that I have the next 15 weeks to deal with it. 

For now, this sadness and these tears just suck.  Anger was easier to deal with than this.