Dear Anxiety,

You’re a thief

Always taking

Never giving

You’re deceitful

And dishonest

You’re a master manipulator

And you thrive on the fear you create

You’re a jealous thief

Stealing away happiness

And love

Even robbing old memories

Making them turn sour

You’re a callous thief

Full of pain you can’t wait to inflict on others

Desperate to infiltrate every last happy place

You’re a cruel thief

Taking away the innocence of childhoods

And destroying what should be carefree teenage years

Annihilating adulthood with haphazardly thrown bombs

You’re a cowardly thief

Preying on people in their weakest moments

Victimizing the same people over and over again

Taunting them repeatedly

You are words that haunt

You are living nightmares that plague

You’ve stolen so much

That all we can do is pull at our hair and cry in frustration

Shouting that turns into whispered pleas

To just leave us alone

Wondering what we need to do

What more we need to sacrifice

To satisfy you

Spending entire lives

Serving life sentences

Paying penance for what we can’t control

All because of you

You’re nothing but a thief…

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‘The Two Most Important Days Are The Day You Are Born And The Day You Find Out Why.’ Mark Twain

I was thinking how these last few weeks (months?) have consisted of me trying not to feel sorry for myself

Yet I have been failing terribly at that

Then I got a call from a former client

Who had been out of touch for a long while and had me very worried for his well-being and safety

He’s doing great and is being taken care of for the first time in a long while

Which he deserves

He sounded so…healthy

You’re probably thinking ‘how can she tell that via phone?’

After spending inordinate amounts of time with my clients

I know them like the backs of my hands

I know their painful stories as much as I can recollect my own

I cherish their achievements probably more than I do my own

And I can tell when they’ve changed

So seldom do we hear about change for the better

But this is one of those stories

Gone was that drugged-out-to-escape-reality voice

Absent was that voice that carried so much self deprecation and sadness

Instead

I heard notes of pride, happiness and the thrill of looking forward to a promising future

All the things we hope that s young person can feel

I hung up with him, feeling lighter than I have in a long while

It got me to thinking why these last few months, out of all my 36 years, have been so difficult

So full of me trying and failing to not feel sorry for myself

Full of heartache and sadness

I stumbled into realizing that I feel lost

Feeling lost looks a lot like not knowing what your place is in the world, in your family, in your career and etc

The opposite of lost is of course ‘found’

Which is defined as:

to discover, especially where a thing or person is, either unexpectedly or by searching’

So that brings me to this…

Do you believe we all have a purpose?

And what is purpose anyway?

It is defined as:

the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.’

So my question really is, what are the reasons each of us are here?

I don’t think of this in terms of fantastic elements like destiny or fate

More so as each of us has the power within ourselves to reach our full potential

Which in turn then meets a ‘need’

This therein becomes our purpose

However, we often fall short of reaching our full potential

Which could be a result of a myriad of reasons (none of which are pertinent right now)

Over the last several months I have learned that I am a person who needs to have a purpose

In order to feel happy

It’s just the way it is

I can’t exist in life in any less of a way

Maybe it would make my life easier if I could

In fact, I’m sure of it

But nobody ever said it would be easy, right?

I’m pretty sure that me reaching my full potential has to do with helping others

Through work

Through sharing my experiences

The method isn’t important at this moment

I guess what is important right now

Is that I need to figure out what will allow me to feel like I’m fulfilling my purpose in life

While accepting that I do obviously have some limitations

Because at the end of the day

I just need to feel like all of this

All of the pain, sadness, difficulties

All of it

Wasn’t for nothing

You know?

‘Hope Is Being Able To See That There Is Light Despite All Of The Darkness.’ Desmond Tutu

It’s an exciting time of year

It’s back to school time for a lot of people

Kids going back to school

Teachers and support staff heading back to work

A time for newness

Opportunity

Change

And me

Well I’m still home

Still

I don’t think I like that word anymore

It has such negative connotations

Like something is dragging on

And I guess this is

It’s sort of like living in purgatory

In between two worlds

….

I had to stop writing

I can’t seem to think about the kids or work without feeling so sad

The kind of sad where hot tears escape your eyes

Where it feels like you just picked a scab

And it’s red and raw and bleeding all over again

But it hurts so much more than the initial cut

Ugh

This isn’t where I want to still be

Still

Again that fucking word

Haunting me

Reminding me

I want to look back at my work memories fondly

Not with this gaping hole in my heart

Intellectually I know that I needed this time off

That I still do

There was and is a lot going on

That doesn’t

However

Stop me from wishing it didn’t have to be this way

I miss the kids I worked with

I miss the ones I haven’t even had the opportunity to have met yet

I miss getting to know them

Learning their stories

I miss finding ways to help them become better, stronger versions of themselves

It’s not entirely altruistic though

I selfishly miss seeing myself through their young admiring eyes

Looking at me like I held all the secrets to life

Looking at me with hope

Hope

I never managed to have much use of it

For myself

But always

Always managed to find even the smallest droplet for them

In this purgatory I find myself stuck in

I don’t belong in the work world

I don’t belong in the sick world

I don’t belong with the hopeful

I don’t belong with non hopefuls

I’m stuck lingering in between all of these worlds

With hope seeping out of my open wounds

Without a hope of saving a drop

But for those special kids in my heart

I’ll find a way

To save and keep a droplet of hope locked up tight

Just in case you need it…

Project Take Down Paxil 👊

I feel like I should apologize for being MIA lately

But I’m not really sorry

Because it’s for a good reason

It’s for me

Last Wednesday I dropped my Paxil dosage from 40mg to 30mg

I won’t pretend I was totally cool with it

I had a lot of reservations

But I also really wanted to do it

There were some shitty days obviously

Two days when my anxiety spiked to an uncomfortable level and I needed to take more Ativan

Several days where I had dizzy spells that came and went

But I survived

I can tell the following things helped:

Writing affirmations daily

Trying to stay busy

Doing a lot of introspection over the root of my anxiety

Now today I went down to 20mg

Last nite I was really starting to psych myself out of doing this

I kept thinking ‘woah 20 is a big drop from 40’

Then J. reminded me that I was going from 40mg to 20mg

I’ve been on 30mg and am stable there

Now I’m dropping 10mg again

Which I successfully did last week

I needed to hear that

It helped ease my fear

I made him write it out so I could print it

I’ve already reread it a few times

Along with some other affirmations

I need to keep reminding myself that I’ve already dropped 10mg and while unpleasant

I survived it

I’m still safe

I’m still here

And most of all

If I did it once

I CAN most certainly do it again

Changing the narrative helps

Taking the unknown and making it something familiar

Removes the fear

For anyone else out there struggling with anxiety

If I’ve got this

You’ve got this

Hard and uncomfortable as it is

We have what makes people into warriors

I’m going to remember all of the difficult things I’ve been through in my life

I’m scrappy

I am a fighter

Think of everything you’ve survived

I hope you keep fighting

Because I will too

That’s what warriors do

Here we go…again

After much deliberation

And talking with my doctor and psychiatrist

I’ve decided to try getting off the Paxil again

Although the first time didn’t go so well

I both want and need to do this

I’ve made a list of reasons why I need to do it

I won’t bore you with the details

I’m gonna try again

Differently

I’ll be tapering by 10mg a week

With the possibility of taking up to 4-5 Ativan a day if necessary

While part of me thinks this would be easy if I take all the Ativan

I know that it’ll be one more thing to wean myself from

So for now

They will stay be on my side

There if I need them

I’m trying a few other things

Like trying to be active and busier with other things

Physically and mentally

I’m also trying to go into this with a different mindset

I’m trying to remind myself this time around that I’ve faced many many challenges in my life

Some uncomfortable

Unpleasant

Painful

And I’ve survived

I hope one day this will be another thing I can add to my list of things that I survived

Wish me luck 🤞

The Odds

I find myself thinking in terms of:

When I get better

For example

When I get better, I’ll change my Paxil

Or

When I get better, I won’t feel so down

Or

When I get better, I’ll finish my degree

The list goes on and on

Sometimes it’s things exciting like travel

More often than not

It’s simple things

Like

When I get better, I’ll go for walks with Joey and my dogs

Ultimately

It always ends with me waiting for a time when I’ll feel better

Always waiting for a time that may never come

Then I think to myself

What if this is as good as it gets?

I mean

Really

And what if it is?

Does that mean I throw in the towel?

Give up

Admit defeat

And then what?

So I started thinking tonight…

And bear with me

This is wild

….

What if I just stop waiting?

…..

Dun dun dun

What if I stop waiting for a future that might never come?

What if I just start living like this is as good as its ever gonna get?

There is something so incredibly freeing about that

It’s difficult when the people around you encourage you to think of how much better things can get

As well intentioned as it is

It just doesn’t help

I’m so fucking sick and tired of waiting

I’m so tired of hoping

Fuck waiting and hoping and wishing

Maybe it’s time that I just start living

For today

I mean…Yeah maybe things will get better

But I just don’t want to waste my time waiting for something that is only possible (What is possible )

I like the odds of probable (What is probable)

It is probable (because there is evidence to support it) that tomorrow I will wake up

And feel as shitty as I do right now

But instead of going back to bed and waiting for a better day

I’ll just keep going

I’ll step out into the world and I’ll still feel shitty

But at least I will have fucking done something

And maybe for this to stick

I’ll have to keep reminding myself every day

That my life deserves a fighting chance

Doesn’t it?

That in order to really live

I need to remove both feet from inside of the grave

Any other way

And it’s just not probable

What I wish you knew

Once upon a time I saw a medium

Who told me that someone very close to me has been living their entire life with one foot in the grave

I thought to myself then as I still do now

That it was the most perfect way to describe this person

As a loved one of this person

It’s frustrating and maddening that they can’t shake it off

And see the love around them

Now as a person who can relate all too well

It’s frustrating for a different reason

The people around don’t understand

They don’t understand why that one foot stays firmly planted in the grave

They don’t see how hard it is to keep the other foot out of that fucking grave

They don’t get the difficulty making it through one day is, one function, one more appointment

I wish they knew…

It’s like constantly treading water to keep my head above it

My limbs feel exhausted

My brain keeps wondering when it’s an acceptable time to admit defeat and give up

My heart feels hollow

There’s a bone weary tiredness that permeates throughout every cell in my body and into my brain

I can go to sleep sometimes and sleep for hours

Wake up and feel like it’s never enough

Or I can lie in bed staring at the ceiling

Thinking that if I wished hard enough

I could make this all go away

I’m 36 years old

I can’t even remember a time before this

That’s fucked up

I mean

Surely I know there was one

I just can’t for the life of me picture myself in it

The present is like living in a post apocalyptic world

Where everything is bleak, tarnished and there is no hope

I can say for certain

This is not an enjoyable place to be

Living this way is not only exhausting

It’s also like having a flu you can’t shake off

No matter how many medications you’ve tried and doctors you’ve seen

Yet, even with the desire to feel better

The flu rages on

When you can’t remember a before

And you can’t see a future

The world becomes very narrow

It becomes the perfect setting for a dystopian society in a novel

Of which, one may want to read about

But no one wants to actually live in

It feels like I’ve become the main character in this novel

Searching for a way out

Up against opponents like doctors, employers, insurers

Trying to find allies

Unsure of who you can really trust

Like every good story

There’s a time constraint

I start to fear that I’m running out of time

I’ve read so many books where someone who needs help

Gets saved by a hero

In some form

I know that my story is different

There is no one coming to save the day

It’s just me

Still trying to find some way to fully live in this world

With both my feet firmly planted on the ground beneath me