I haven't written in a while. I've been going through a lot. January and February were horrible brain wise. My illness grabbed hold, and tossed me, flung me, emotionally beat me until I was literally praying for some, any, reprieve from it. Then March hit, and the horrible emotional grip started to ease. The majority of my March was amazing. I felt positive, energized, I had hope. Most of all, I began to feel like I was reclaiming a bit of the me that I've lost for years now. I was finally, finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
In March, I began working on my personal branding website for all of my various services and skills, to be premiered once I (fingers crossed) graduate from yoga teacher training. The editing on my book was finished, and I started moving into the next stages. I was working on more travel clients than I have in a while. I actually felt like I was capable in building what I want to build. Like I might really regain autonomy over my day to day again. I began to feel more independent again. I actually found myself occasionally making decisions and suggestions instead of just going with "whatever everyone else thinks" for fear of causing an issue. I found myself standing up for what I need, what I know is best for me, what I believe in for my life, even if I was only defending my cause to myself most of the time. I started making small changes each and every day. I also worked on reconnecting with my faith, which has been a lifelong process in which I've generally failed miserably, and I felt like I was getting somewhere. In addition to yoga and meditation and writing and my other self-work, this was helping me get through things when I did feel alone and hopeless at times.
And then, March started coming to a close. And the proverbial ceiling caved in. My emotional life came crashing down on me. I woke up one morning and all of that calm and piece and quiet self-worth I'd finally thought I was finding was gone. I don't know why, but it was. In it's place was sadness deeper than I've ever known, hurt, emotional pain, hopelessness, and yes, I'll admit it - anger, resentment, and bitterness, driven by the aforementioned. I say that because a note here: actual anger as a reaction doesn't last long at all naturally. I forget the stat, but it's something like after two minutes, if you're still angry, it's because it's masking another emotion like fear, pain, hurt, sadness, etc. Few people will admit this because it's easier to point fingers than take a deep dive into our own pain, but I'm a master at deep diving into my pain, so I'll own my anger. I woke up feeling like I was again a rat in a maze that didn't actually have an exit. Like a puppet in a show, being yanked around. Hope was gone, which is particularly devastating for someone who runs the Spread Hope Project. All the things I thought I could do, they felt like silly dreams. Like a little kid dreaming of being an astronaut, like a girl dressing up in her mom's heels and makeup and pretending to be an adult, instead of a grown adult who believes in themselves and dreams that they can actually accomplish.
I don't know what happened. Not entirely at least. I know, of course, that I have a mood cycling disorder that involves depression and anxiety, and that it can hit without a moment's notice. But I also know that it doesn't usually cycle in months. It's normally hours, days, a week at the most. I also know that part of what hit me is that you can't single-handedly change situations in your life that involve others, and that my trying to do so finally crashed in on me, and it felt like I'd been beating my head against a wall. If this doesn't make sense, here's an example: Say you work in a place where negativity and gossip is rampant, and you easily pick up on other people's energy. You can go in and be positive and cheerful all you want. But if you have to interact with other people who are negative and gossping all the time, and they don't change, you still work in a toxic environment. And yes, people will say "well you could change that by getting a new job." But sometimes it's not that easy. and besides, the job is just a random example that I chose. Sometimes, it's not a situation you can just change like you can a job. Sometimes, it's a whole bunch of things at once. You can't suddenly just be out of debt (unless you win the lottery), or make people believe in you and support you (emotionally not financially). You can't make friends suddenly have tons of time for you. You can't suddenly get tons of clients and build your own business so it's super profitable (no matter what those courses they sell try to tell you.. it doens't turn around like that). You can work your ass off every damn day, you can be the best person you can be, you can be willing to throw yourself in front of a speeding truck for people, and you still can't affect what anyone or anything else in the situation does. Sometimes there are pieces of life you cannot control, and when you're trying to change your life and things just. won't budge it's physically, mentally, and emotionally painful and exhausted.
Lately, I feel like I'm mentally, emotionally, and physically crumbling. It feels like each time I move pieces of me fall off. There are physical effects. I've had headaches and been nauseous a ton. I've oddly been losing sensation in my extremities frequently, and I'm not sure if it's related but that's super annoying/scary. I'm exhausted all the time. I am in constant physical pain. I don't even mention my physical pain really because I don't recall what it's like to not be in physical pain. And every single morning that I wake up it feels like there's a ton of bricks sitting on my heart. I spend probably at least an hour a day crying, often more. I'm getting to the point where I struggle to hide it. I know I am not living the life for me, and yet I feel like I'm tangled up in it, unable to make any changes. I feel so frozen in my life that I literally am afraid to do the tiniest things - like cook a meal or choose something to eat.
I feel like I just want to fade away, like some special effects in a movie where I become more and more transparent until eventually I'm just not there. Sometimes, I feel like disappearing quickly. Most days I feel like making drastic, massive changes in my life because I can't stand the crushing ache of pain every day anymore. But any way I slice it, this version of me, this crumbling, hurt, scared, frozen version of me that feels like a caged animal is not sustainable.
That's where I am right now. I know it's not super uplifting, but I wanted to give a life update. If you want to support me, please reach out. In person, not on a Facebook comment. Not with a "virtual hug" (please, please no virtual hugs, I can't explain but I'm practically begging you not to say this). But actually reach out. And please no cliches please. I can't handle it. It won't end well. I'm broken. You wouldn't give someone with a heart attack a cliche, so don't give me one either. Just be there to listen. Not one and done, not a perfunctory check in, but actually be there for me. As much as I need, as long as I need. I have a lifelong illness. I need people in my life who are prepared to be there for me through life as well.
Thank you for listening.
In March, I began working on my personal branding website for all of my various services and skills, to be premiered once I (fingers crossed) graduate from yoga teacher training. The editing on my book was finished, and I started moving into the next stages. I was working on more travel clients than I have in a while. I actually felt like I was capable in building what I want to build. Like I might really regain autonomy over my day to day again. I began to feel more independent again. I actually found myself occasionally making decisions and suggestions instead of just going with "whatever everyone else thinks" for fear of causing an issue. I found myself standing up for what I need, what I know is best for me, what I believe in for my life, even if I was only defending my cause to myself most of the time. I started making small changes each and every day. I also worked on reconnecting with my faith, which has been a lifelong process in which I've generally failed miserably, and I felt like I was getting somewhere. In addition to yoga and meditation and writing and my other self-work, this was helping me get through things when I did feel alone and hopeless at times.
And then, March started coming to a close. And the proverbial ceiling caved in. My emotional life came crashing down on me. I woke up one morning and all of that calm and piece and quiet self-worth I'd finally thought I was finding was gone. I don't know why, but it was. In it's place was sadness deeper than I've ever known, hurt, emotional pain, hopelessness, and yes, I'll admit it - anger, resentment, and bitterness, driven by the aforementioned. I say that because a note here: actual anger as a reaction doesn't last long at all naturally. I forget the stat, but it's something like after two minutes, if you're still angry, it's because it's masking another emotion like fear, pain, hurt, sadness, etc. Few people will admit this because it's easier to point fingers than take a deep dive into our own pain, but I'm a master at deep diving into my pain, so I'll own my anger. I woke up feeling like I was again a rat in a maze that didn't actually have an exit. Like a puppet in a show, being yanked around. Hope was gone, which is particularly devastating for someone who runs the Spread Hope Project. All the things I thought I could do, they felt like silly dreams. Like a little kid dreaming of being an astronaut, like a girl dressing up in her mom's heels and makeup and pretending to be an adult, instead of a grown adult who believes in themselves and dreams that they can actually accomplish.
I don't know what happened. Not entirely at least. I know, of course, that I have a mood cycling disorder that involves depression and anxiety, and that it can hit without a moment's notice. But I also know that it doesn't usually cycle in months. It's normally hours, days, a week at the most. I also know that part of what hit me is that you can't single-handedly change situations in your life that involve others, and that my trying to do so finally crashed in on me, and it felt like I'd been beating my head against a wall. If this doesn't make sense, here's an example: Say you work in a place where negativity and gossip is rampant, and you easily pick up on other people's energy. You can go in and be positive and cheerful all you want. But if you have to interact with other people who are negative and gossping all the time, and they don't change, you still work in a toxic environment. And yes, people will say "well you could change that by getting a new job." But sometimes it's not that easy. and besides, the job is just a random example that I chose. Sometimes, it's not a situation you can just change like you can a job. Sometimes, it's a whole bunch of things at once. You can't suddenly just be out of debt (unless you win the lottery), or make people believe in you and support you (emotionally not financially). You can't make friends suddenly have tons of time for you. You can't suddenly get tons of clients and build your own business so it's super profitable (no matter what those courses they sell try to tell you.. it doens't turn around like that). You can work your ass off every damn day, you can be the best person you can be, you can be willing to throw yourself in front of a speeding truck for people, and you still can't affect what anyone or anything else in the situation does. Sometimes there are pieces of life you cannot control, and when you're trying to change your life and things just. won't budge it's physically, mentally, and emotionally painful and exhausted.
Lately, I feel like I'm mentally, emotionally, and physically crumbling. It feels like each time I move pieces of me fall off. There are physical effects. I've had headaches and been nauseous a ton. I've oddly been losing sensation in my extremities frequently, and I'm not sure if it's related but that's super annoying/scary. I'm exhausted all the time. I am in constant physical pain. I don't even mention my physical pain really because I don't recall what it's like to not be in physical pain. And every single morning that I wake up it feels like there's a ton of bricks sitting on my heart. I spend probably at least an hour a day crying, often more. I'm getting to the point where I struggle to hide it. I know I am not living the life for me, and yet I feel like I'm tangled up in it, unable to make any changes. I feel so frozen in my life that I literally am afraid to do the tiniest things - like cook a meal or choose something to eat.
I feel like I just want to fade away, like some special effects in a movie where I become more and more transparent until eventually I'm just not there. Sometimes, I feel like disappearing quickly. Most days I feel like making drastic, massive changes in my life because I can't stand the crushing ache of pain every day anymore. But any way I slice it, this version of me, this crumbling, hurt, scared, frozen version of me that feels like a caged animal is not sustainable.
That's where I am right now. I know it's not super uplifting, but I wanted to give a life update. If you want to support me, please reach out. In person, not on a Facebook comment. Not with a "virtual hug" (please, please no virtual hugs, I can't explain but I'm practically begging you not to say this). But actually reach out. And please no cliches please. I can't handle it. It won't end well. I'm broken. You wouldn't give someone with a heart attack a cliche, so don't give me one either. Just be there to listen. Not one and done, not a perfunctory check in, but actually be there for me. As much as I need, as long as I need. I have a lifelong illness. I need people in my life who are prepared to be there for me through life as well.
Thank you for listening.
