Category Archives: Anxiety

Stuck.

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One of the things that I’ve discovered about my anxiety triggers, particularly within the last year, is that a large part of my anxiety issues have to do with communication. When I’m having difficulty finding the words to express how I am feeling, my anxiety will spike and I’ll just get stuck.

That’s where I’m at right now.

I feel like I don’t know what to say right now other than to describe how I feel when I get this way.

I like to use the word stuck.

It feels like there are words and feelings inside of me that are stuck somewhere, and I can’t seem to get them out. If I try to push myself to write or to talk, it feels like my chest and throat are closing in on me and whatever I’m trying to say just gets stuck on the way out.

I find I have the be patient with myself in times like this, it will pass and eventually the words will come to me easier.

Sleep It Off

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Sometimes when you start writing something, it ends up being not what you intended to write when you sat down to write about things. Like for example, the Zuccotti Park post was actually supposed to be about my shitty day that I spent in bed because I just could not deal with life.

I ended up being about what it was about because really that’s how I ended the night before… Obsessing over Twitter for about three hours before I was able to shut it off and go to bed. If you weren’t able to tell from that last post, the whole thing makes me anxious. Really fucking anxious. Like, doubled over and ready to throw up anxious. It was really a horrible and helpless feeling watching the news pour in. Despite the fact that I’m not terribly surprised, it was still pretty upsetting to me. It took me a long while to be able to unplug myself and get to sleep.

All I can say is thank the gods for melatonin supplements. They’re my newfound thing that I love. It’s a hormone that has something to do with circadian rhythms, and while I’m not sure how it works exactly, all I know is I take the pill and it makes me sleepy, but in a natural sort of way… and well, it’s made bedtime easier to control for sure. James brought me some a couple of weeks ago because his mom had sent them to him, and damn… the things work for me.

I slept fine, but man was I in one of those moods where I did not want to get out of bed, I did not want to deal with my life, and I just didn’t want to do anything.

I’m having money issues.

I’m currently out of work, trying to find a front end web dev (preferably Drupal) gig and not having a whole lot of luck… and part of is admittedly due to the fact that I’m not looking hard enough and that reading job listings tends to make me really depressed. Truth be told, I’m still pretty burnt out on the web work… I don’t really want to work more than 20 hours a week due to trying to keep my mental health in balance, and well… I feel like nobody wants me because of that. Sigh. It is what it is. Anybody need someone who’s a CSS expert?

I just had one of those days where the anxiety and the depression just took over and I pulled the covers right up over my head. I hate to admit it, but there are just some days where your best option is to sleep it off… and since I had the option, I did. I don’t really regret it either.

Stuck

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Here’s a good question for you… How do you write publicly about losing your voice as a writer without sounding like a total melodramatic fool? Because truthfully… that’s where I’m at right now. I’m wanting to throw a temper tantrum because I feel like I can’t string the words together to explain… well… anything, because I’m so afraid of what everyone else is going to think.

I’m really unhappy with the post I wrote before this one. I feel like there was so much more I should have said, so much more that I could have said. I wish I could find the words to describe what goes on in my mind, but I’m afraid if I ever did… everyone would just think I was crazy. Or maybe just lazy. Or some combination of both. I start having anxiety over talking about anxiety. But I also feel the strong call to talk about it, openly. Partly for my own therapeutic reasons, and partly because I think it’s possible that my story could help others, given the strength to tell it. I also feel vaguely narcissistic saying that.

I wish I could truly explain why I keep wanting to draw attention to how thankful I am to James for all the patience, hugs, and encouragement he’s given to me… but my words fail me here, too. I feel afraid to say too much for fear of embarrassing him by being too verbally affectionate, or by sharing something that he might feel is too personal to share about our time together.

I guess in some ways, I’m not sure how to be the sort of blogger I want to be. I grew up being the sort that just wrote about her everyday life, to hell with what people thought… but that just seems so much more difficult now that the issues at stake are more difficult to tackle than not wanting to do my homework and angsting about what church I want to go to.

I feel like I’m stuck, and I don’t know how to get unstuck. I find myself wandering around to every blog I can find and wishing I had somebody else’s horrible problems because it must be so much easier to write about trying to get pregnant with fertility treatments or trying to lose weight or the struggles of being a mother with an autistic child or… whatever. It all seems so much easier to me that if I was facing something like that, it would be so much easier to write about than what I’m dealing with in my everyday life now.