The stories we tell matter.
I think I realized I was an introvert at some point in graduate school (inorite?). But, in my defense, I did forensics (of the public speaking variety) competitions all through high school and I majored in theatre in college. I’ve… Read moreOde to Loving My Inner Introvert
A woman sits under a fuzzy blanket, trying to will the world away.
A woman opens a can of soup and puts it into a bowl. She puts the bowl in the microwave to heat. When the microwave dings, she opens the silverware drawer. She rummages around, then pulls the cutlery out piece… Read morePlay a Day: Spoons
A Woman at a bank puts items in a safety deposit box. She leaves. A personification of Anxiety follows her. Anxiety: Are you sure you put the envelope back in the box after you checked inside it? Woman: Yes Anxiety:… Read morePlay a Day: This is what anxiety feels like
Still getting back in touch with my sexuality at the moment. To catch everyone up to speed, I’ve been on birth control since 2010 to control pre-menstrual symptoms. I always had rough periods, even as a teenager. The kind which… Read moreEbb and Flow
Once I’m feeling overwhelmed, it starts to feel like nothing will ever change and my options for making a difference in my own life are limited. All I can think of are the reasons I can’t do things or why even if I tried it wouldn’t matter because of course I’m just a failure and incompetent at life.
In other words, my brain lies to me.
Stress also makes me feel tired and fatigued, which makes me able to do less because I lack the mental and/or physical energy.
Which only feeds the cycle more.
Because my brain can then say, “See? You can’t even do your laundry or keep up with the dishes or clean the cat box. How will you ever manage X, Y, or Z?”
Then, the stress and guilt from not being able to do even the simplest adult tasks piles onto my other stress and makes me feel even more that I ought to just stay in bed with the covers pulled over my head forever.
I was bullied mercilessly growing up. It wasn’t until middle school when I was in class with the other smart kids that I started really having any friends. Having someone to defend me meant a lot, even though the teasing continued. Yes, I am smart. Yes, I am fat. Yes, I do have hairy legs. Yes, my accent was different from that of my classmates. The difference is that none of those things actually (should) impact my ability to be loved. None of those things make me an inherently bad person. And that is what no one ever told me when I was 12 years old.
Overall, life is going better for me. Being in therapy is making me realize how far I’ve come with developing coping mechanisms, and that’s positive. I am slowly creating the kind of life I want. Just more slowly than I thought.
I’m still not where I want to be creatively. It’s just hard to have the brain space to think about crafting performances when I work so much. And I have some creative people in my life, but I’m not surrounded by a creative community like I was when I was in school. It feels harder. I am rusty and less brave or willing to make mistakes as a result.
A lot of things are changing right now, and hopefully for the better. Old roommate moved out, and new roommate moved in. Still a few loose ends to sort out over the next several days, but I am much more… Read moreCh-ch-ch-changes
I’m happy with some parts of my life right now, and I try to be grateful for what’s good in my life. But there are other areas where I’m very dissatisfied. I’m not trying to throw myself a pity party…. Read moreTrying to Make Sense of It All