Life’s Beautiful Stressful Rewarding Journey

It’s true what they say:

Sometimes in the middle of a crazy messed up mistake ridden life, comes a fairytail.

Ok, “they” don’t say exactly that but for me it’s true…sort of. Things don’t usually just come to you and they certainly don’t stay if you don’t learn how to foster them and grow. To get right down to it, you need to change in an uncomfortable way. Don’t be disheartened though, it’s only uncomfortable because it’s not what you are used to.

Surrounding yourself with those who have achieved your vision, goals, and/or dreams is a critical piece to achieving them yourself. You not only learn from their journey but you create a board of advisors for your own journey. 

For me, emotions were like a ginormous (see what I did there ;)) boulder blocking my way out of the cave of darkness. I kept trying to move the boulder from every different angle, only to learn that another way out was just around a different corner. Emotions crippled me because they guided my life. My emotions told me to be angry when I wasn’t treated fairly. They told me to quit if things didn’t go my way. That I should tell someone they are wrong if I feel they are. 

They lie… Emotions lie!

Emotions kept me from making sound decisions that would benefit me in the long run. 

After I learned a little emotional intelligence, life snapped together and became the most amazing fairytale. I never could have dreamed of this life. Somebody pinch me! I could tell you all about it but I still don’t believe it myself. What I do know is that the outcome was worth the stress and hard work of relearning life.

Not allowing yourself to give into becoming overwhelmed or angry is as rewarding as it is hard.

The sun will rise and set no matter what. I can scream all day and make myself and those around me miserable or I can make my list and move forward; either way the sun will rise and it will set. I choose to be happy somewhere in between. I have no control over how others live or how they treat me or one another; I don’t want to either. Truth be told, I want to be more like my golden retreiver 🙂 always smiling and loved beyond belief. 

Work Stress Work Stress Work

I’m in a fishbowl. Routine has been disrupted, stress is piling up, the pressure I’m placing on myself is too immense.

I wanted to die yesterday. I literally wanted to die. My brain was shutting down and I couldn’t speak right, I was dizzy, and clumsy, and disassociating.
Why am I telling you this? I don’t know, maybe someone else has felt this way and will send some love & light my way.

I finally asked for help to lighten the pressure and the load of preparing a home for the realtor to come take pictures on Thursday and subsequent open houses. I’m sitting here writing as a break from all the work. I’m drowning and being selfish by even recognizing that fact. Other people are busy too and nobody has time to help within the next 3 days and that’s ok too. It’s my job to do and burdening others just adds to my anxiety and guilt.

My husband is drowning in work & traveling the next 2 days, my son is dealing with a new diagnosis and a life forever changing. I have his public school demanding a meeting with me to get an explaination for my sons absences (4) so they can “provide him support”. Where were they when they significantly contributed to the cause of this breakdown? Oh, wait, causing the breakdown doesn’t pay but putting a label on him and providing support after the fact does pay.

We both have appts with doctors. He has work on top of school and doctors. He finds recognition and a sense of accomplishment at work.
I have a list that is 3 columns and fills an entire sheet of paper with everything that is supposed to be done by thursday.
This friggin Thursday!

Each time I feel this way, I think “OMG, why do I feel this way again. That’s when I remind myself that I have felt this way before and am still here. This too shall pass and the sun will rise and set with or without my efforts today or tomorrow. So, for now, I rest 😉

Love With A Side Of Klonopin

I really REALLY love my husband. He’s my biggest fan! #anxiety #PTSDchat pic.twitter.com/HysbDWs3Bv

— my purposeful mind (@chunkingminds) March 20, 2016

Reflecting on my weekend, I feel like it lasted two weeks. The days just fly by and yesterday was a snow day for the family which meant it lasted longer. I love having the family around but I really appreciate my week days alone too. I was incredibly overwhelmed on Saturday which made it hard to get moving, but just when I thought I would give in to sadness and lay around and feel crappy all day, my mother and brother in law called and would be at my house in an hour. WHAT?! Ok, time for a shower and OMG the house…I have construction tools and baseboards and rocks all over! OY! I was literally having a serious meltdown. Panic attack, oh hello, there you are again. It’s been what, like a few days at least since I was fearful enough to see you. I don’t like you and I want you to know that if I never saw you again I would celebrate. Just sayin’

My husband grabbed my Klonopin and handed it to me with water. “Relax. I got the house, you get the shower 😉 ” How did I get so darn lucky? I mean, have you read 5 Ways To Help Your Wife With PTSD? He really lives it out and thinks about it enough to always be a step ahead of me. He really really thinks about my well-being and my journey and what may come next and how to help me experience new things without fear. I can’t do it, so I don’t know how he does. He has a superpower, for sure.

He went to the grocery store and handled dinners, while I got lost somewhere in my head. Not sure where but, by the end of it all, I managed to pull myself together enough to accomplish one of the many tasks I have on my growing list. I sat down and put some rocks on a wall. I built an entertainment center about a year ago and a weekend job turned into a year long job but so be it. Slowly but surely.

I still have sanding and painting to do, but I haven’t quite wrangled up my manic romance yet, but once she kicks in, you will see a finished product. I managed to get the column on the right (next to the rocks) trimmed out all pretty last week though. YAY!

The hubby is home this morning to make sure that I get in the shower and don’t give in to the reaper. He knows how hard the slightest change in my routine is for me. He sees it so clearly and has such compassion. I credit him with so much; without him I wouldn’t be here.

 

Overwhelmed And Climbing

Yesterday I smacked myself in the face with a 2×4…no, really! I am desperately in a serious hurry to whip my house into shape within the next week. Realtors are calling to look at our house and my husband is going through the process of rounding up a list for the mortgage broker. North Carolina by summer is the plan. Warmer weather and no more snowblowers! It all looks like one big huge Mt. Everest to me.

My anxiety is at MAX. Panic has set back in and I can’t seem to ‘work’ when others are around because of it. Nightmares have come to help panic out, and I am struggling with meals again. Just when everything is so perfect, it all crashes down on my head. In this case, in my face. Half my face is swollen, I look ridiculous! On top of that I am working with one finger down. I accidentally cut into half of my right index finger and I can’t even type with the thing. On the positive side, I’m learning a new typing style.

Being a one-woman machine is so hard. I can’t maneuver everything on my own but I have to. I am putting up crown moulding, baseboards, trimming out doors, mudding & taping, sanding and painting. I pretty much do it all…when I can.

That’s the thing about bipolar, we are rockstars when the mania juice kicks in! People are like, “omg, she can do it all”… yeah, for a hot second until the reaper pays a visit. The reaper follows panic and mania around like an ambulance chaser.

I call my writing days, my days off. Usually I hit one room at a time and make my chunking list. Sometimes though, even making a list is a battle. That’s when i take my day off and write. I listen to my husband talk with his family and others on the phone. I wish I could do that, but the phone is overwhelming to me most days. I will say something wrong and then the end of the world comes down like a torrential rain. The world has ended many times. 😉

This too shall pass.

Workplace Culture Makes Me Crazy

Common workplace culture isn’t conducive to facilitating success. Period! Human Resources hands you a packet after a series of interviews and tells you that you should take a half hour lunch, get up every 20min and getting enough sleep at night is critical. It just doesn’t work that way though. Google recently put out their research study on workplace culture. It’s a long read but they found some fascinating information on group behavior.

I have been preaching this for years; you can talk about workplace culture, you can hire executive coaches, perform team-building exercises, etc. etc. What it comes down to are actions. You are provided an iPhone or Blackberry, not so that you can be flexible when life beckons your presence (as HR doc’s may claim), it’s so that you can work 24/7, 365.
I learned that culture from being awakened at midnight when an e-mail came in, requesting an immediate response from an EVP.
When on my wedding day I was answering e-mails while walking out in my wedding dress for pictures. I think the photographer even had to crop out my iPhone in one!
I could have easily not answered those e-mails, but there was a fear instilled, from observations, that I would have received a lesser year-end bonus, been passed over for a promotion, or simply looked upon as unfavorable. It’s those hidden, intangible, totally unintentional lessons that we learn; the non-verbal, body language cues, the social relations, that truly rule the workplace culture.

“The ignorant mind does not question appearances to determine if they are correct; it merely accepts that things are as they appear.” ~Dalai Lama

If your power performers are instinctively motivated by ego they will lack structure in their own schedules, create bureaucratic structures and roadblocks which stifle free thinking and communication. This type of behavior defines the values of the organization. Sorry, but your values driven mantra and HR paper is garbage if the true culture doesn’t reflect them. It’s the lack of proper hiring and oversight that breeds this unintentional culture and its dangerous. Perhaps, lethal!

Health problems associated with job-related anxiety account for more deaths each year than Alzheimer’s disease or diabetes.  The American Institute of Stress states “Increased levels of job stress as assessed by the perception of having little control but lots of demands, have been demonstrated to be associated with increased rates of heart attack, hypertension and other disorders.” People are dying, and that it’s costing BILLIONS of dollars. It’s killing people! 

Did I mention ridiculously expensive? According to Forbes; workplace stress is responsible for up to $190B in annual U.S. healthcare costs. We have proven that workplace culture (or lack thereof) is a problem.

What am I getting at here?  If mental health awareness is to really take root in our society, we need to start embedding it in our cultures. We can start by fostering empathy and open communication in the workplace. Holding executives accountable for setting an example of a healthy workplace culture each and every day. It will trickle down!

If people who have no history of PTSD, Bipolar, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, panic attacks, etc., are dying at the hands of their employers workplace cultures, how can you expect those who have mental health illnesses to possibly be able to integrate?

What If I Told You?

You have no idea who I am. You have known me for years and you have no idea who I am. You think you do, but you only know what I choose to show you. If you had taken an interest, I may have let you in, but you haven’t taken an interest, so you stay on the outside. I want to tell you, but I don’t know what it would solve for me. I may feel an emotional release for a moment, but then what if you didn’t react the way I expected or intended?

• What if you still didn’t come by to say hello, maybe have dinner or check in with your grandchildren?
• What if you didn’t recognize the absolute heart wrenching pain your son has gone through and how he has traversed a 99.9% deadly ongoing sea of rapids and come out a different man?
• How he has supported a wife that lay on her deathbed 20 times over for the past 4 years and helped keep her alive.
• How he used up his vacation time sitting at my bedside instead of driving me to an emergency room.
• How he protected your grandchildren from seeing the pain.
• How he managed to thrive in his career through it all.

I don’t know how to tell you without expecting something in return. I don’t know how you could possibly understand. I don’t know if I could understand if I were in your shoes.

Maybe being 100% unashamed isn’t about telling people what you have, its about accepting who you are. I’m still navigating this part of my journey. Suggestions and experiences welcomed 🙂

Hiding Behind Her Smile

Sitting there with a smile on my face that I have learned to make stick. I’m dying inside, Klonopin is my best friend right now, but I want to run. I stay in the same spot, chair back to a wall and just smile. It never fails that the seat across from me or next to me is quite utilized. They want to talk to me. “what’s new?”, political stuff, no religious talk. I have learned to keep the conversation off of myself and speak about all of the beautiful attributes of those around me. Its easy for me to pick out beauty in others and it keeps people from getting too close to personal questions. It’s me that I struggle with, not them. It’s the lies that eat at me. I don’t want to tell them that I have had horrendous experiences and hand over my list of diagnosis. I really don’t, but then again, I do.

They speak of how unfortunate it is that someone we love has bipolar and how much they love them and do for them. I stand there in silence. Bipolar is a big deal, it’s hard. Sometimes manageable and sometimes not. I get it. I have it. I have comorbidities that bounce off of each other like that ball in the racquetball room. It’s hard to catch. I stand there alone….again. The silence from shame.

I want them to see my struggle so that they stop unknowingly minimizing what my husband and I have gone through just to walk into that room. It’s not their fault, the shame I feel sits with me and me alone. I want them to know so that my shame will end, but it won’t. I’ve worked hard to hide it all and I will keep going. My husband is worthy of knowing me and as he gazes across the room at me, he sees through it and smiles. In those moments I think he is proud of my strength. It makes my glued on smile worth it every time.

Finally, it’s over. Yes, hugs all around and the cheek kisses and genuine appreciation for being able to be with each of them. As we get into the car to leave, he looks at me and says “everyone kept telling me how beautiful you are.” You did a great job tonight. His way of acknowledging my sincere effort and the collapse I will have the following day as all of my strength was just drained from every fiber of my being. Hiding from my mother-in-law, and my husbands entire family each and every time I see them.

How do I move through this…

 

Photo: Sia

Today I Choose Love

It’s been an up and down week for me. In general, I am exceptionally positive when I am feeling quite the opposite. I still recognize my feelings/mood/whatever, but I know that in order to feel better I need to surround myself with my end goal; positivity and love. That includes treating myself like I love myself even when I don’t feel like it. In these moments I think about how I would treat my daughter if she were feeling down. I would encourage her and love her. I’m a firm believer (in my situation) of faking it until I make it.

• I smile from point A to point B. I probably look like a total weirdo, but eventually as people begin to smile back, my smile becomes genuine.
• I put in my beats headphones at night and turn on Vortex Success Gratitude  . I turn it up loud and think about my desire to feel grateful for even the smallest of things. I only know it works because I feel better and my family tells me that I seem happier. It works for me.
• I take the deepest breaths I can possibly take.
• I make a long list that includes a shower and try to get 2 of them done and feel good about it.
• I F* myself over and prepay for my Aerial Yoga class. I really don’t feel up to going but once I’ve paid $25.00 in advance, I go. It’s unique and I never regret it.

I’m not saying, “hey you should all try this”. We’ve been there and done that with therapists and everyone else who thinks they have great ideas but have never felt what we feel. I haven’t felt what you have felt/feel. I’m just reminding myself of what works for me and even this week I managed each of these. Truth be told. I want to feel better, but my primary motivation isn’t even for myself, it’s because I feel really bad for those around me! If I can’t do it for me, I really try my best to do it for them.

My daughter is the little girl inside of me that was gentle, kind, and so immensely loving and sensitive. I look into her eyes and think about how I was treated at that young age (she is 10).  Who do I want to be to her? Do I want to be the person who causes her the most heart wrenching pain. Do I want to take a joyful childhood away from her by taking her mother from her? So I make choices. I make choices for my family. I make the choice to feel my pain and go through my ups and downs so that they don’t have to go through worse.

There was a time when you thought anything was possible; nothing has changed! Today I choose love.

How Can I Be 100% Unashamed?

My goal: 100% unashamed and 150% inspirational to myself and those around me. I’m still lying because I’m still scared. I’m afraid that every emotion I have will be attributed to my diagnosis and/or my trauma. I’m afraid that future opportunities will be blocked because people will judge me. They judge others with diagnosis and experiences like mine, right in front of my face. I usually then ask if they are a christian and then the heavens open up and all silence breaks loose. We all sometimes need compassion reminders, including me. Ok, I’m judging and should move on. 😉

Most people just aren’t worthy of knowing me that intimately. Judgmental on my part, I suppose, but I think you need to earn that right. I have told my husband absolutely everything, but only because he earned that and more. He worked hard to understand my fears and my emotions and he read and studied  every diagnosis and it took 2 long years for him to see me and love me for who I am as opposed to who I allowed him to see. I don’t know that I could go through what he has gone through with me.

Over and over again I tested him and probably emotionally tortured the man. (I admit it). He stood strong and instead of getting angry when I provoked him, he would look me in the eyes and with the most compassion I could ever feel, say “how can I help you not feel this way? What can I do?” I was always left speechless and at the very same time he would be heading my way to wrap his arms around me. How can you fight with someone who sees your pain and loves you through every ounce of anger they are supposed to have? I threw my most powerful, push him away so that I don’t have to be vulnerable, super power his way! No man has ever endured that super power.

He showed me and continues to show me that he loves me unconditionally. The beauty in it all was how much he taught me. He taught me to feel love, to feel compassion, to comfort and most of all, how safe and healing it can be to be vulnerable with someone who will not use it against you or hurt you. But the world isn’t like my husband.

So, I beg the question, is it necessary to tell your family and others that you have X and experienced X in order to be 100% unashamed? I guess it would, in order to be 150% inspirational, right? How do you tell others who won’t necessarily understand, be compassionate, and nonjudgmental? I’m honestly asking….

 

Facebook, I’m unfriending you!

Oh the horror!! “you can’t just get off of Facebook! It’s connected to everything. How will you keep in touch with people?” I know, I must be a crazy and terrible person for even considering it and I would love to apologize but I simply can’t. Even the pros agree with me.

The bottom line: Facebook, you make me feel bad. I just had to evaluate what added value in my life and it wasn’t you.

You talk incessantly about politics and religion and every single issue that people disagree about. You get everyone fighting and I have to bare witness to the whole ugly mess. When I send you beautiful pictures with positive words attached, you have people so worked up that making a negative out of a positive is quick fun. I end up feeling bad about being happy! When I post about something I bought, I get lectured about how many people I could have helped or that I should have bought something different or better. If I repost a political joke, all hell breaks loose and its WWIII!! And the thing is, I’m not alone.

I tried to stay friends with you; I went full-on high security with zero search ability and it still didn’t help. When I unfriend the mean ones, you pave the way for them to find me again anyway. When they learned they had been “unfriended”, it was game-on and not in a good way. Worst of all, the angriest ones aren’t even friends and family! They just feel the need to use you like LinkedIn (who, by the way, is much more professional than you).

I’m tired of feeling stressed out every time I look at you and I’m taking great lengths to replace you. I have decided to go back in time like billionaire John Paul DeJoria and actually write a letter! I went out and bought the most attractive stationary & pens to make it eventful and I use e-mail to send my pictures, just to avoid you!

It’s not me Facebook, it’s you! This is goodbye and please don’t try to make me use you to sign into other apps just to get me back. It’s kind of sleazy.