Game Face

Hiiii.

 

Ever wonder what would happen if you weren’t around? If you weren’t there to fix things? Or in some cases screw them all up? It’s the screw up moments that make me think about this the most.

 

No, let’s get this straight. I have no bad intentions, and all I mean from this is sometimes I think I could be of better assistance to the world if I had just stayed in my bed. Yeah, maybe a few things wouldn’t have gotten done that should have gotten done. But on the flip side, there is a lot that wouldn’t have gotten so royally messed up either.

 

I have to do a semi-annual performance review at work, with this upcoming one being my third in my current department and all I ever have to say is that I need to improve on my efficiencies and the amount of mistakes I make. I feel like not a day goes by at my job that I’m not apologizing for messing something up. And that’s not just because I’m an obsessive apologizer. Yes, I did just make up that word. You’re welcome to all my obsessive apologizers out there. I know that I hold myself to unusually high standards, but if I didn’t who would I be? How would I have gotten myself to the position I’m not at in life?

 

I truly do believe that I am who I am for a reason. That’s all there is to it. And like it or not, I’m not going to change for anyone or anything.

 

So, on all of my bad days, weeks, months, and years, my only option is to get up, put on my game face, and go. You gonna come with me?

 

Love,

Me ❤

Warrior

Hiiii.

 

So, I had super mixed feelings writing this post. Part of me felt like doing a hair flip. And the other part of me felt like I wanted to crawl in a hole and cry.

 

Let me preface this by saying that I do not work at a school, or for the government, or for any institution where this could cause me to get fired…I think.

 

So, I am a very open person (hence, the public blog I write about my Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder) and this applies to work as well. I help a lot of our employees (who technically are my students) who suffer from anxiety by providing them with anxiety fidgets and other coping skills to help them combat their issues throughout their employment, and honestly in life in general.

 

A student who is preparing for their licensing exam approached me this week about coping skills. They said, “How do you combat all of the adversity you face? What do you do to help keep your anxiety at bay? I’ve seen you keep your cool in times that I could not.” I was awestruck, and it took me a hot minute, but I conjured up the best response i could. I simply stated, “Time. Just time. I’ve been dealing with this for as long as I can remember and have been diagnosed for over a decade. I figured out how to handle my shit over time and by making A LOT of mistakes.” There is no recipe that works for everyone when it comes to anxiety and/or depression. I gave him all of the tips and tricks that I could think of. All of the little things that help calm me down. The deep breathing, the positive mantras, the essential oils, the rescue remedy, everything. I don’t know if any of it will help him, but he doesn’t have 12 years before his exam to learn how to wrangle this beast, so I armed him with the quickest and most effective solutions I could think of.

 

But that’s the part that NO ONE remembers. Last week, I wrote about wearing a mask ALL THE TIME and the one time I take my mask off, it’s like I’m a leper who should be burned at the stake. Each year that I get further away from my cutting, my medication issues, my weight issues, everything, the stronger I get, but the more forgetful everyone around me gets. They forget the struggles, they forget the issues, they forget all of the stuff I hide on a daily basis. It’s almost like people think that I’m fixed. I’m cured. I no longer have depression and anxiety.

 

Now, I’m not a complete selfish idiot. I know it’s human nature to forget what’s not right in front of us, but for me, my depression and anxiety are NEVER not right in front of me. They NEVER go away. My symptoms, my struggles, my issues, my insecurities; they’re all right there. And they always will be. I truly don’t expect people to think about my issues all the time, ’cause damn would that make for a super depressed world. I just wish people knew that this doesn’t just go away. That for most of us, this will NEVER go away.

So, no. I’m NOT a survivor. I’m a W A R R I O R.

 

Love,

Me ❤

Mask Off

Hi.

 

Yes, I did choose that title because I listened to Future on my way home, and NO, this post is NOT about what he raps about. It came on my Spotify for a reason, and I thought it would be appropriate seeing that Halloween occurred this week as well. So, let’s get to it.

 

Ever feel like you’re so…EXTRA…that you can’t keep your cool. You’re extra sad, extra mad, extra overwhelmed, extra any negative emotion you can think of that you LITERALLY want to explode. Or implode. Either or. That was me today. It’s been a LONG week. So, long, that it’s honestly felt like two work weeks worth in one. And it’s been like that for a few weeks now.

 

It’s safe to say that I am a “Yes Woman”. And I’m fully aware and acknowledging of that. I do NOT LIKE saying no when people ask me to help them with something. If I think it’s at all possible, I will say yes to help that person out. Well, I mayyyyyy have taken on one too many things this week. Even when I woke up today, I was done. So, by the time I actually got to work, I was SOOOO done. I managed to somehow get through the day without totally blowing up or breaking down, but my mask was DEFINITELY off. And people could tell. I pride myself on being able to “black box” things and help pick others up 99% of the time, but that 1% that I can’t, it’s completely obvious. And I don’t know how to change it. I’m either hiding everything or nothing.

 

It’s so freaking cliché, but there’s a quote about being the one who helps pick everyone else up, even when YOU’RE the one who’s broken the whole time. I feel like that’s me. And that 1% of the time when I can’t be the one to pick everyone else up, it’s like I’m being too much to handle. I’m being unreasonable. I’m being too EXTRA. And that’s really freaking hard. People don’t realize the weight I carry by wearing my mask every damn day. And the one day I can’t seem to hold it up to my face, you judge, you get upset, you huff and you puff, and you show your disappointment. Not only is my depression making it hard to want to put one foot in front of the other, but my anxiety of letting everyone down and letting them see me is almost unbearable.

 

So, to the one who wears their mask every day, I’m telling you IT’S OKAY to take your mask off. Scream into the steering wheel, cry into the pillow, punch the punching bag. IT’S OKAY. Let it out. Forget about those people who judge you, scorn you, or become disappointed with you. If they can’t/won’t be there for you on your % days, they don’t deserve you at your 99% days.

 

So, don’t bottle it up. Let everything out. End that % day and fall asleep before you fall completely apart. Then wake up the next day and get back to your 99%. Let’s do this.

 

Love,

Me ❤

Rookie Year, EVERY Year

Ever feel like your stuck in your rookie year? I can’t be the only one, right? The only one that constantly feels like this whole adulthood thing is just a bunch of rookie years piled one on top of the other. Like, being the freshman on the team. The ones who do the clean up of the field after practice. The ones who fill the water bottles. The ones who do the grunt work. Well, unless you’re me. Then you do that freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior year. Because I HATED being a freshman and I didn’t want to make anyone else like I did when I was their age. I also have this thing where I don’t like to tell people “no”. So, there’s that.

 

Regardless, it’s EXHAUSTING being the rookie all the time. And as a perfectionist with a NEED to constantly do things, well, perfect, being a rookie SUCKS. I hate feeling like I can’t do anything right. I FINALLY feel like I have things under control, and then a mistake pops up. And then another one. And another one. And another one. Just a snowball fight of mistakes being thrown RIGHT in my face. The more people tell me “it’s alright”, the more upset I get because I know it’s not alright and I always am afraid of what mistake will be the one that ends my employment? And all the while, my anxiety is through the freaking roof. Which, honestly, causes me to make more mistakes, or be more forgetful. Then I feel depressed. My depression tells me that everyone else thinks as little of me as I think of myself. It’s been true and it will always be true.

 

And the self-doubt is never ending. I keep telling myself that I should have the hang of this by now. I should have my life straight by now.

 

But I don’t.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE learning, growing, and becoming the person God made me to be. I’m just having trouble becoming who I was made to be because I never feel like I have a grip on the present. I spend ALL my time preparing for the future by reflecting on the past. I need time to STOP. I need everything to stop for one freaking minute. Just one. So, I can take a deep breath and listen to what I’m being told and where I’m being guided to. But that’s not possible. I just feel like I’m stuck in this never ending cycle of self obliteration. One where I don’t have time to build myself back up after I’ve been broken down. So, I put together what I can and keep trying to run on empty. When is this going to end? Maybe the better question is WILL it ever end? Or will I be stuck in my rookie year forever? God, I hope not.

 

Love,

Me ❤

Ripping Off The Bandage

Hi there!

 

So, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been on here. It’s been quite a while since I’ve shared my struggles. My triumphs. My happy times. My not so happy times.
Well, boy has a lot happened. I have been thinking what to say to get started all week. I’ve been thinking about what I want to say. What to write about. What to share. And even in this moment, I have no freaking clue what to write, but my heart is still being tugged to share my words. So, that’s what I’m doing. I’m ripping the bandage off the wound I’ve had covered up for over a year with the hopes this might reach you. The one who’s been feeling alone. The one who’s been feeling useless, unworthy, used, abused, hurt and any combination imaginable. Well, I’m here to let you know, for real, that you are NOT alone. You are NOT useless. You are NOT unworthy. You do NOT deserved to be used, abused, or hurt. Ever. So, here goes nothing.

 

I started this post by reading through all of my old posts and at first I felt embarrassed because, well, that’s how I feel about anything I’ve done. I rarely feel proud of something I’ve done because it could ALWAYS be better. We’re human. I’m human. But I don’t like to hold myself to human standards. Ever feel like you’re not enough? Yeah. Me too. Like all the time? Yeah. Me too.

 

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we push ourselves to work three jobs? Why do we push ourselves to ALWAYS say “yes”. Why do we let ourselves work over 50 hours a week, every week? Well, my friend, we do this because it’s our only mode of survival. We work ourselves to death because we’re scared of getting let go if we say “no”. Then, once our bodies shut down, we succumb to the idea that we’re failures. Cue the panic. Our anxiety TELLS us we’re failures. And that’s where the black hole opens. It opens up to our depression. And the depression TELLS us we’ve always been failures and we’ll always be failures. Why even try? Why even get out of bed? Whey even go to work? What’s the point. Everyone would be better off without us.

 

Then we talk to our psychiatrist that we see on a monthly basis and tell them we need more meds, because the meds are the only thing that’s worked. And, well, they tell us no. Well, damn. If my psych won’t even help me, then WHAT AM I DOING HERE? WHY AM I EVEN TRYING? They tell you that you need therapy. But you don’t WANT therapy because therapy means missing work. Missing work means work piles up. Work piling up means being fired. Being fired means losing the house. Losing the house means losing my family. Losing my family means the end of my everything. Again, cue the panic.

 

This is MY LIFE. Every damn day. I pray on it. I ask others to pray on it. I pray that one day I won’t feel this way. One day I’ll believe people when they say I’m enough. One day. One day. One day.

 

Today is not that day, but damn it feels good to be back. THIS is my therapy. Writing to YOU, whoever you are, is my therapy. And for that I thank you. Same time next week? Cool. I’ll be there. Until then, take care.

 

Love,

Me ❤