Blue

The summer bummers are still here.  Oh wait, is it still spring?  The great mood swing of spring, then.  I can't tell if things are getting better or worse.  There will be a couple of days when things seem hunky-dory followed by a day or two of muddling through. 

I felt this way last summer so I just need to remember it didn't last forever then and it won't last forever this time either.  And I am functioning.  Fundamentally sad, but functioning.  And I also had five really great months in a row before this.

Hang in there, right?

It's really frustrating to do all the right the things (eat, exercise, take vitamins, etc., etc., etc.) and to try so hard all the time and still suffer brain scrambles.  And it's that kind of bad attitude that has made me a little lax in taking good care of myself.

Builds character, right?

So in the meantime I'll just shine it on, invite the gloominess to stay as long as it needs to, and know that this too shall pass.  Hopefully by June.  I have big plans for June.

Bobaloo picked up his bass guitar over the weekend, maybe he can help me write a blues song.

a heart-shaped leaf from my morning walk

a bubble from the weekend

Since the last time I was here...

...I turned 31.

this is me being 31.

...the trees in our yard began to bloom.  It has snowed, rained, and hailed around here.  I am excited to get some geraniums for the patio, they seem to be the only flower I manage to keep alive. 

Pray don't talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else. And that makes me quite nervous. -Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

...Bobaloo made this recipe for meatball sub hotdish.  Move over macaroni and cheese there is a new comfort food in town.  We made ours with meatless meatballs and dang, this thing is good.  For real.

...April and now May have been proving to be a bit difficult for me.  I think the season change triggered some junk in my head.  My days are spent oscillating between listlessness and and restlessness. 

April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain. -T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

...In other words, my brain is having a hard time connecting the dots.  Again.

...But when my noggin starts acting up it seems to be a good time to take on some creative activities, so that's the plan.

...I haven't been a complete mope.  There has been plenty around here to keep my busy.  Bowling, books, museums, deviled egg competitions, music shows, movies, sunny patio days, etc.

Well, that about catches me up.  What have you been up to?  I hope your spring has been a gentle one.

A Glimpse of a Bad Day

Welcome back despair.  How have you been?  Same old, same old?  Good for you.

Me?  I’ve been content and awesome and satisfied with how hard I work to keep you at a distance.  And then you had the audacity to show up and fuck things up.  Pardon my French, but I think after all of the crap you put me through; you can have a few curse words slung your way.  So, fuck you.

Last week I felt the anxiety swelling up and making a heavy knot in my stomach.  A little later the sinking feeling of worthlessness crept in and my skin started to crawl.  And by the end of the day there were tears and I was the worst person in the universe and nobody loved me and I was a waste of space.  I felt claustrophobic in my own body and wanted to get out of it.  I wanted to be out of my skin.

The sky was falling.

I picked up an anti-anxiety prescription the next day and numbed out.  I took deep breaths and did my best to remember that the sinking feeling wouldn’t last forever and that I have people who love me very much.  And my body and my soul and my skin are blessings.  Blessings I have been charged to care for.

And just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

**Things are back to being hunky-dory**

Hang in There

I was around 10 years old the first time I had the feeling that I wanted to go to sleep and not wake up.  That was the first time I remember feeling so sad for no good reason.

Most of the time my depressive episodes are manageable.  I try to embrace them and know that this too shall pass.  It can be a blessing to have very temporary emotions, knowing it won't be long before the sadness goes and is replaced with gentler feelings.

At the ages of 19, 25, and 28 I went through my most serious bouts of depression.

Looking back, those were tremendously stressful ages for me.  A lot of life changes were happening, making me much more susceptible to break down.

And I did.  And it was scary.  And it's something I hope I never get used to.

When I was really struggling, someone told me to hang in there.

And I did.

And that became my mantra.

When getting out of bed was too much of a goal for the day.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

While trying to find the energy to go to work for at least a couple of hours.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

When I drank to feel better, knowing tomorrow the shine would wear off.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

While everyone and everything was overwhelming and scary and merciless.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

When I hurt the people I love most.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

When I felt I had no purpose being here.

Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there. Hang in there.

Over and over, I would silently recite those three words. 

I remember hanging on like hell to whatever shred of hope I could muster up that day.  And slowly, but oh-so surely, things got better.  And days were brighter.  And life got sweeter.  And I grew happier.  And living became easier.

And when I think of everything I would have missed,

I am so thankful I hung in there.

May 7

  Wow, the challenge to Blog Every Day in May is really providing a lot of opportunities to share my neuroses with everyone. Today's topic is the thing(s) you're most afraid of, so here goes.

While I am thinking about my vast and varied list of crap I am irrationally afraid of, it’s hard to pick out what would be at the very top of the list, but I’ll give it a whirl.

 

Needles!

 

I can't even stand the thought of getting blood drawn or an immunization.  I am queasy and crawling out of my skin just writing that sentence.

Ick.  Ick.  Ick.

When I was three my mom picked me up early from daycare and brought this little lady along.


 Puffy the Puffalump (creative, I know)

I should have known that along with the new friend, Mom had some shenanigans up her sleeve.  She gave me Puffy and buckled me into the car where she explained we were going to the doctor’s office for some booster shots.*  By the time my mom got me into the doctor’s office I was so anxious about having to get shots that I worked myself into a fever and we had to schedule them for another day.

I am a fainter.  When I was a junior in high school we were watching a movie that involved immunizations.  After about three minutes of seeing people get shots I got that good old woozy feeling and passed out right then and there.

I had to get a TB test for a job and when I asked the nurse if it was going to hurt, she replied, “Well, it’s not a hug.”  I cried.

The last time I had to get blood work done, one nurse had to hold my arm down while the other took my blood out.  There I was all grown up, being held down, and sobbing in the chair.  It was pretty pathetic.

Tattoos?  Bring ‘em on!  Not a tear will be shed, but tell me I need to get blood work done and you get the full on freak-out!

*Why do we use the word shots? Can’t we think of something friendlier, like love pokes, pleasant pricks, or joy jabs? Never mind, everything else sounds dirty. 

May 3

  I'm keepin' on keepin' on with the above challenge to Blog Every Day in May. Ambitious I know, but there are topics posted for every day. Go check it out. Today's topic is Things that make you uncomfortable so here goes.

I could write an entire book about things that make me uncomfortable.

Having anxiety certainly presents its fair share of things that make me uncomfortable.  Most uncomfortable moments deal with issues of space or not being in control of my surroundings. 

Sometimes those issues creep up, sometimes they don’t.

Some instances of being uncomfortable in no spectacular order:

* Recently I walked over a bridge (sort of ran because it was rather high up) and could not and would not get back over to the other side.  Bobaloo walked back to the hotel to get my Pops to come pick me up in a car.  I knew in my heart of hearts the bridge was not going to suddenly break and I knew I wasn't going to accidentally fall off, but nonetheless I seriously cried over this:

This is the pedestrian bridge, for real yo.



* Every once in a while riding on the highway in the passenger seat of a car can be a horrible experience.  I am not sure if it’s the speed or the other drivers or the fact that I am not driving but some days it’s just too much to handle.

*  Every 8-12 months I get on an airplane, freak out, and vow to never get on another plane again, forget about aforementioned vow 8-12 months later, lather, rinse, and repeat.

*  Eating in front of strangers is bizarre and uncomfortable, weddings are a nightmare.

*  The self checkout at the grocery store is an endless source of anxiety for me which is weird because I usually prefer to interact with machines rather than people.  I think it's because the fruit and vegetables get priced wrong with the scanner and the scary Overlord of Groceries has to come over and boss me around.

*  Experiencing new things by myself isn’t my strong suit.  It’s not the new experience so much as the not getting lost on the way there, finding where to park, what if I wrote down the wrong day or time, expectation management, I don't know what's happening, what if I start panicking, am I breathing normal, etc.

Long story short, I make me incredibly uncomfortable.

Resolutions I

When I was going through my 2-year bout with holy heck-I am so sad-anxious-who am I?-what does this all mean?-why can’t I fit?-is my mind going?-better question where is my hair going?-is this worth the trouble?-what the heck is happening to me?*, it was so busy in my head that I stopped everything else. I was motionless and no matter what I tried, I could not move forward.

About a year ago I came back to the land of the functioning; it hasn’t been fully until recently. 

I have taken most of this last year to heal. Restore myself, reconcile to my people, and rejoin the commotion of everyday life.

I don’t have it all figured out. I am still working on it. And that’s okay.

When you panic, it’s your body telling you to slow down and resolve whatever needs resolving.

My life had to come to a complete stop for me to get the message and it turns out there were some things in my life that needed resolution. Taking a Xanax is easy, dealing with shit and holding it together is not. 

It has taken time. 

There has been a lot of gathering, sorting, recognizing, understanding, and finally, removal of shit.

Everyday chores and routines were too difficult to deal with so I just didn’t. Everything and everyone was overwhelming.

I have a few close girlfriends who are successful in their careers, have happy social lives, nice houses, and raising kids on top of that.  When I would visit them during this time I couldn’t help but think to myself, how can someone possibly have the energy for a life like theirs? How is your countertop so clean all the time? You grocery shop, cook dinner, put the mail away, and hang out with your kids? You host brunches on the weekend? You go to the mall, get your hair done, and vacuum all in the same day? How do you do this? Was there a grownup class I missed? How do you find the energy?

How do you do this?

I felt incompetent.

My girlfriends are amazing.

I had just failed to recognize that they were living life.

I was not. 

When we were getting ready to move to the new place, I prepared to move into a new head space. The steps forward have been gradual, but I am moving. That is the important part.

I go to work every day. I take care of the dog. I feed the fish. I make the bed. I do the dishes. I clean.  I pay bills. I tell Bobaloo not to fall asleep on the couch. I have even started helping with dinner on occasion. These things are very small but they make my life.

Almost a year later, I am very proud of this life.

*Sorry to get so technical.

The Ketchup Incident

I am not sure when everything changed. I was shy when I was little and kind of nervous as a teenager. I always thought my unease with the world would be something that I grew out of.

My anxiety has only gotten worse, especially in the last couple of years.

Anxiety is tricky and awkward when navigating the world and people. I have been stressed and cried at the UPS store. I have had panic attacks at work and at King Soopers. If I am in a new situation with a crowd? Forget it. Plane rides at the moment are out of the question. My heart gets agitated. I get uncomfortable and upset.

A while back, Bobaloo and I were watching the Bears game and my eyes started welling up because I couldn’t find the nerve and got flustered about the idea of having to ask the waitress for ketchup. Bobaloo got me some ketchup. We often refer to this as “the ketchup incident.” I think that was the first time I realized how bad things had really gotten.

So if I am having a bad day and let Bobaloo know that I had a ketchup incident, he’ll know exactly what I am talking about. The problem with anxiety is that without it, I like meeting new people in new situations. I like going to concerts and being a part of the crowd. I like traveling.

I am anxious but not scared.

I have tried pulling myself up by the bootstraps, pulling it together, putting myself out there, and bucking up. None of these things seem to be very effective. I have tried different medications with varying degrees of success.

How do you ease worry and tension in your life? How do you keep the ketchup incidents at bay?

Slapdash San Diego Thoughts (in no particular order)

My time in San Diego is winding down. I am excited to be all packed up and to leave. I am not excited however, to actually do the packing or drive twenty-one hours. It’s strange how mobile I consider myself in my head; in reality I have a lot of stuff. I can’t help it, I am sentimental and it is easily to acquire a menagerie of furniture, books, photo albums, and clothes. Stuff. It’s weird how much I enjoy my possessions. Not that it is treasure from Pier One Imports or anything fancy like that. When I first came out here, besides my husband, the thing I missed the most about Colorado was my couch. I loved that sucker.

I am happy we were able to check out some stuff while living here. In some ways it has been like a weird two month vacation except I go to work.

Do you know what I find most fascinating about San Diego? No matter where you stand in the city, there are dozens of frozen yogurt shops in a two-mile radius. As a fan of frozen yogurt, that is amazing. That shit doesn’t happen in the Midwest or in Colorado. Sure you have your Dairy Queen, Coldstone Creamery, and whatnot but it just isn’t the same. I am really going to miss that.

I enjoy missing things; it means there was some joy or love worth checking out and worth being missed. I am glad that I am going to miss San Diego a little bit. Not just the frozen yogurt, the Trader Joe’s, or Ikea. The hustle and bustle of the city is great. Although there is a little more bustle for my taste than there is hustle, the general vibe is awesome. I am a fan of cities that have great public transportation and SD is awesome, trains, trolleys, busses galore plus most areas are pretty pedestrian-friendly. Yield for the peds, man.

It happened.

I am now closer to thirty than to twenty.

One year older, and a hell-of-a-lot wiser.

Beware of Foreshadowing

So, a proverbial change of heart has taken place and some decisions have been made. I called my dad today to wish him a happy Easter and to tell him that after a lot of thought, we are moving back to Denver. I was expecting for him to advise me to stick it out and hang in there. But instead, he said something along the lines of at least we have the courage to make mistakes. And more importantly, life is full of ups and downs and the key is to have more ups than downs. Sometime during the three and a half years of living in Denver, it became home without us even realizing it. We have gotten our apartment back, now all we have to do is get our lives back. Hopefully, there will be many ups in our future. Happy Easter!

Looking for Answers

I am full of questions. I cannot help it; there is just so much strange information out in the world pleading for me to get my informative hands on it. My inquiries know no confines.

I tackle global issues. How far would we have to go in the ocean to reach international waters? I ponder diversity. Why are there never white people working at sushi restaurants? I delve into holy contemplation. Why do we celebrate Easter, again, and where do the eggs come in? Even cuisine is not safe from my inquest. Who came up with the idea of frozen yogurt? Did they have a beef with ice cream or something? Why has no one invented beer flavored frozen yogurt? I’d eat that.

More often than not, my husband shoulders the brunt of my queries in the car on the way to somewhere. After attempting an answer the following conversation usually takes place:

Him: I guess I don’t know, wait, how am I supposed to know?

Me: I don’t know. You know lots of stuff. I thought maybe you’d have read it somewhere.

Him: Where would I have read about the creation of frozen yogurt?

Me: I don’t know. I was just wondering. Maybe you’ll read about it somewhere in the future and remember that I was wondering.

At this point he usually just shakes his head and we move on.

The strange part is that I don’t necessarily need an answer and it is not likely that I will not wiki it when we get home. In my opinion though, they are valid questions to throw out there. Someday I am going to win a big screen TV in a bar trivia competition or something. We’ll see who’s laughing then.

The stranger part is I have a picture in my head of my husband reading in a waiting room and learning the answers to all of my questions in some magazine. I wonder what magazine it is.

Whose got the funk?

I haven’t felt like myself the last two weeks. With the move, Bobaloo going back and forth, and the newness of San Diego I feel like I am in panic mode or survival mode. You wouldn’t know it from the outside; I appear to be very cool, calm, and collected. Well, as cool as I can be.

Lately, just getting through the day expends so much disorderly energy that I a have nothing left in my tank when I get home. I just want to sleep and not think about anything. I am not sad, but I am not altogether happy either. I guess, just sort of existing.

Realistically, everything is fine. I have no more or no less worries than I did in Denver. Maybe it is all of the change.

Hopefully, this weekend will snap me out of my funk. My little brother Kyle is in town for spring break and we are headed to the beach!

Personally

I am happy with the decision move to San Diego thus far. The climate and the few things I have checked out are phenomenal. I have met a few characters out here who are warm and friendly.

It's been a little rough at the new job. I am weighing my situation and options. Yesterday, panic attacks ensued, things went very sour very quickly.

I received a few pep talks yesterday. After a rough Monday, I went to get a beer and met this gentleman from India who advised that as long as I had a clear concience I am doing the right thing.

My concience is a little cloudy. I feel a little uncomfortable doing what I do. My dad said to keep a stiff upper lip and see the writing on the wall.

At this point, I am doing my best to hang in there and am trying not take shit from anyone. Which is totally not my personality. I take things personally.

Maybe I should go work at Seaworld. Shamu is awesome.

Routines

It is hard to start new routines. I am in a quasi-routine right now. Both feet are in California but my heart is still in Colorado. It's different. I am alone and have all the time in the world to write, but I do not. I haven't found my writing routine yet; my ritual.

I used to have a job that slowed down mid-morning and I would write my entries up and post them at around the same time everyday. They were quality entries (at least to me) and I could not wait until it was time to get started on that day's entry. My situation at my new job is quite different. No blogging allowed.

Although it doesn't matter too much, I feel like I have so much in my head and cannot figure out where and how to get it all out. I am having a hard time differentiating between if I am stressed out and anxious or if I am loca en la cabeza.

Perhaps, when I have furniture it will be a little more conducive to writing. I miss my couch.

On a brighter note, I am exploring. Getting around town with no worries is a pretty awesome feeling. Our little apartment is cute and the middle of the city. I am excited to be a city dweller. The noises, the hustle and bustle, the street parking, everything! I was able to take a two-minute drive last night to the harbor and look at the boats and the ocean. What a sight. I am excited for all of the upcoming adventures when Bobaloo gets here. Until then, tonight I begin the hunt for the perfect slice of pizza.

I am officially in California on an adventure that began six days ago.  I will be blogging with more frequency when I have a place to live.

Here are some things I've learned the past six days:

1. It doesn't matter how old you are, sometimes you still need your mommy.
2. Just because you've gotten A's in school doesn't mean you get an A in life.
3. Cacti are really, really cool in the desert.
4. Marriage is awesome and it sucks to be away from your spouse for an extended period of time.
5. I drove forty miles on a five-lane highway, had a rough first day of work, and made it back to where I am staying without taking a Xanax, crying, or being scared.  Sometimes confidence peeks out when you least expect it and more importantly, when you most need it.
6. Just because technically you don't have home doesn't mean you still can't miss it.
7. California is as beautiful as I remember.

Well, I should have time to tell all my stories this weekend.  Later!

Have you ever tried having an intervention while you were drunk? I don't recommend it and I am terribly hungover.

Make New Friends

Friends are a peculiar thing. I have known most of my friends longer than I have not. When moving to Colorado, I was terrified that my bashfulness would not allow me to make many new friends.

In Minnesota, my friends were the most devoted and dependable companions and we watched each other grow into varying degrees of adulthood. My old friends have telepathy, a sixth sense where they know that I am thinking of them. For example, yesterday I wrote about my best friend growing up and later in the evening she texted me. I have not spoken with her in months. In the morning, I merely thought about a very good friend and she called because she saw a commercial about Colorado.

My best friend is the greatest. We usually email or Facebook back and forth. She sends me stuff when I most need it. She somehow knows when I am having a bad day and a goofy email card will magically pop up in my inbox.

I have often felt bad since moving here because I am awful at keeping in touch. I send Christmas cards and that is about it. I hate talking on the phone. I also feel guilty when I am meeting new friends out here, as if I am slowly replacing the old ones.

I remember a song from Brownies:

Make new friends, But keep the old, One is silver and The other’s gold

My friends that I left behind are truly gold. I miss them terribly on days that I am down in the dumps and especially on days of great cheerfulness. I miss the little nuances and inside jokes of their lives and they miss mine.

Since moving to Colorado, I have met amazing friends. I do not even know how it happened. They just kind of trickled into my life. Although I have not known them long, they are here physically and provide much warmth in times of loneliness. That is what makes them gold.

Grumblings and Ramblings

I am feeling a bit tired and salty as of late. So in that vein, here's a list of the top 8 irritations in my life:

1. The guys who work at Valvoline (no, I don't want a stupid air filter).
2. Waitresses in a hurry and make me order something I don't want to eat.
3. People who say "thanks much" or write "thanx" instead of "thanks." It's one extra letter!
4. People who call only to put me on hold.
5. Slow baristas.
6. $180 Textbooks.
7. The Gap.
8. Blank pages.
9. Writing when there's nothing to write about.
10. Writer's block because I haven't been anywhere or done anything lately.

I am kind of dissapointed in my posts lately. They have been barely mediocre. I started up another semester at school and am taking many writing classes so I am hopeful that from now on my posts will be both thrilling and thoughtful! My first creative writing assignment was to write a short story in exactly one hundred words. I encourage you to give it a whirl; it is kind of fun. Here it is:

The man could not believe that after thirty-five years it was over. However, by the gray in her face and the snarl in her hair he could tell it was true this time. The cold way she told him to get out left him exasperated, yet relieved.

He ambled down to Market Street and made a decision. The man pulled of his sullied fedora, reached into his pocket, and pulled out creased dollars. The money passed to a man selling yellow roses.

The man walked back up the street to her knotted wooden door and knocked. She was already gone.

**Now that I read the story again, it is kind of a downer. I need happier posts, I think

***For a happier post on inauguration party hilarity check out this by The Bloggess.

Stranger in the World

Normal has always been an indefinite concept. Through time, it has gotten even more perplexing. For example, I know that my life used to be normal and now it is not. Still, if it is not normal, what is it what is the word?

Worse yet, his life used to be normal. Now it is not. I do not know the word for that either. Nevertheless, I know it is my fault.

After meditating on this strange world, for a moment I realized that perhaps “strange” is the word I am looking for.

What a long way from then to now, from there to here. Do I want to go back? Can I get back? Perhaps before, my life was normal and now it is strange. Our lives are strange.