Worrying

W (1)“Don’t worry about the world coming to an end today. It is already tomorrow in Australia.” –Charles Schulz

Charles Schulz is great. My dad was a cop, and he had a cop friend who was friend who was friends with Schulz, so for Halloween, instead of passing out candy, my older brother and I would pass out old comic books with the covers torn off. Of course, we always sat around and read them first. It was a sheer blast. I related to both Charlie Brown (with all his worrying) and Linus (with his security blanket–I had one until I was like six lol).

Despite what my mom says about worry being like a rocking chair and therefore useless, I’m a worrier. From the time I wake up until the time I go to sleep I’m worried about something. And truthfully, if I don’t have something real to worry about, I imagine a “what if” scenario, because I guess I’m just a worry junkie. Now that’s just sick, right? Because who would want to be worrying all the time? Because let’s face it. Too much worry leads to anxiety, and nobody likes anxiety, not even me.

Worry works like this. Imagine you’re walking along a cliff. Your mind might think, “I might fall.” That’s helpful, because it keeps you careful, a thought like that. But, if you’re hiking along the same cliff and your anxiety is high, instead of thinking “I might fall,” you might think “I will fall.” We experience the thought as reality, almost inevitability.

There are ways to reduce worry thoughts, like letting go of control, and staying in the present moment.
So sorry again that this is so late. You only have to put up with me a few more days!
Ciao, Bella.
98worrying99problems

G is for: Glassy-eyed, Gone, and Drooling—Oh My!

spockSometimes, I think, if the disease doesn’t kill me, the cure will. Here you see a cartoon with Captain Kirk complaining to Spock about his mind-melding techniques; that he would have expected a little more than “the lights are on but nobody is home.”

The reason I share this is not to poke fun of people ratcheting up the electricity bill in their homes. Not by far. I’m showing you this cartoon because it helps me to talk about something near and dear to my heart; psychiatrists in the U.S. (and perhaps other countries) over-prescribe to their patients. Especially benzodiazepines. Feeling anxious? Here: Klonopin, Ativan, or Xanax should have you feeling comfortably numb in no time. I get it, okay? And this is not a complete and total indictment of psychiatrists all across the country. They are pressed for time. They have insurance issues to deal with, plus pharmacy reps coming in trying to sell them the latest and greatest drug out there.

deadhamsterSo no, this is not a slam post. That was just an observation. The title of the post is much more personal. I’m on pretty high doses of medication right now, trying to get me off a manic phase. (Yes, please God, now.) I’m thinking better, not in so many different directions at once, but I still have flights of fancy (Of course I can do the A-Z Blog month, despite not making all the flash cards for my Maybury Farms volunteer post! I can do everything). Never mind that I had no business signing up for the blog post competition. My mind, which knows me and loves me, also sees shiny things and wants to kill me. So we have this total love/hate thing going on.

When I first wake up in the morning, or even just before I go to bed at night, it’s best to not talk to me. I make absolutely no sense, even when I try my utmost. I imagine myself sounding like the teacher on the Peanuts cartoon show. So why do my closest loved ones stay by my side? Can’t they see that I’m so not worth it?

closedYesterday morning I actually turned to my mom and said, “What did you just say about pickles?”

“What?” she asked, not in a judgmental or an oh-you’ve-really-lost-it-this-time tone of voice.

I cleared my throat, tried to speak more slowly and articulate every word.

“What did you just say about pickles?” I asked again. It seemed really important to me, but—don’t ask me why.

“I didn’t say anything about pickles,” Mom responded, then she went back to her crossword puzzle, and I returned to looking at FaceBook and trying not to drool because—even though I’m constantly parched and thirsty from my meds, one of them gives me excess saliva. Oh, and it’s hard to swallow, so lots of times whatever I’m swallowing (sometimes just saliva ) will go “down the wrong pipe,” causing coughing and choking fits until I can drink enough water to get past it. I look drugged. For the better part of the day my eyes are at half mast, and it drives me crazy. I have to really work to make myself understood, and if I’m excited about a topic? Fuhgeddaboutit. 

I can count on a window of 2-2 1/2 hours in which to get any intelligible work done. That’s it. So it’s no wonder that, around 10:00, when it’s time to take my meds and my second wind starts to kick in, there’s a huge part of me that wants to scream, “I don’t want to take them and you can’t make me. Everyone is asleep, even the dog. No one is pulling at me for my attention. I could get so much done.” Which is why I stayed up past my bedtime last night, and sacrificed sleep for making more flash cards.

But—I see my shrink today, in a couple hours. I’ll go over all this with him. I don’t want to wander around in a drug-induced haze.

Hope it’s spring-like where you are. Feels wonderful here. I’ve made a commitment to go to the gym today, but I might change that up to taking Lucy for a walk.

Peace out. Take care o’ you. xx

Seven Steps to Change When That’s The Last Thing You Want

It’s the truth. Change isn’t easy. Ask the caterpillar who morphs into a beautiful butterfly. He spends all the time in a cocoon. No one asked him if he wanted to become a beautiful butterfly. Did they? He just became one, over time.

We don’t really have a choice, either. We change, or stagnate. Things that stagnate become stale, foul, sluggish, and dull.

If you really hate change, like some of us do, here are seven steps to help you get through in roughly one piece 😉 :

1. Put your worries in a God Box. Or a cookie jar, or whatever works for you. Just writing the worries about upcoming changes can release anxieties within is. That helps defuse them. It helps distance the worry so you can move on and plan for change instead of dwelling on it.

2. Rehearse in your car. Little changes can help you build up your resilience to bigger changes. So next time you are stuck behind someone slow, or a person swerves in front of you in traffic, PRACTICE. Breathe deep, remember other people around you have the same problems, they get inconvenienced too. It’ll help you respond to the bigger changes later.

3. Return to an old favorite. When we’re going through changes, it can help to revisit something that turned us on in the past, that we haven’t done in a while. It strengthens our confidence and makes getting used to the changes around us easier by half.

4. Read up on your role models. Pick up anything that inspires you, even if it’s a novel. A character from The Devil Wears Prada can help us realize change is possible and keep us focused on our goals.

5. Make a checklist. Just write three things on the list: Situation, Support, and Self (not necessarily in that order). Always be asking ourselves: What is one good thing about my situation?, Am I letting others support me? and third, What can I do to ease my transition? Personally I LOVE checklists. Making little checks and saying “done,” gives me a thrill. 🙂

6. Coping strategies. This could be as simple as taking up a new hobby like gardening to getting into therapy, getting a massage, asking friends for advice, going for meditative walks . . . use your imagination. The possibilities are endless.

7. Develop a 3-step plan. If, for example, you’ve decided you want to attend Al-Anon: Find a local meeting, Get a temporary sponsor, Begin to read the Big Book of Al-Anon

This has been modified and changed from the article: “Help! I hate change!” in Woman’s World magazine, July 16, 2012

Peace out.

Nobody’s Perfect, So Chin Up!

Thursday morning I saw my Super Sponsor and we decided to talk about the third step: Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him. 

Actually, I requested this step, because I’m having difficulty with “Let go and let God.” I turn things over to Him and then my mind gets on its hamster-wheel the things I’ve turned over to Him are back with me going ’round and ’round and I can’t make them stop.

Much of this, I knew had to do with my sister’s upcoming sentencing hearing, and it will be very difficult for me to be separated from her for whatever period of time, whether it’s sixty days or five years. My sponsor suggested that I need to do something after I turn my sister over to God. I need to either read in one of my daily meditation books, my Bible . . . or do something active, like take a walk, write, clean something, so that I don’t just sit there and GIVE my sister a chance to come back to me. You know? Let her stay with God. It’s too much for me to handle.

It’s not easy, and I fall many more times than I stand . . . especially after I came home from that to find that my sister had taken off and no one knew where she was. She took her purse and her cigarettes, but not her cell phone. She was gone for two nights. Nearly 48 hours.

Did I leave her entirely in God’s hands? 😦 I wish I could say I did. I prayed for her safety. I got angry. I fretted and cried.

She’s home safely, a bit bruised and worse for the wear, but at least she’ll make her probation appt on Monday and she’ll face up to her sentencing hearing on July 3rd. Nobody’s perfect. I don’t have any stones to throw. Do you?

We all try so hard to do the very perfect thing. All we can do is the next right thing. And keep breathing. Even if we meet God partly halfway, He’ll gladly meet us all the rest of the way. At least, that’s the kind of God He is to me.

Peace out.