Perfection Detection

Well, it is getting to be that time of year. The end of a long one, and the want to make the incoming year better than the previous. You start to plan goals. Almost always over plan those goals. Set goals that you can attain, but maybe you need to focus on the shorter steps first.

I have a new goal for 2020. To take random days off of work for absolutely no reason other than to take care of me. Every year I decide to “take care of me”, but, as with many of us, it has to do with physical health. Gym, group classes, better nutrition, so on and so on. I have never thought that it needs to be for my mental health most. I HAVE 32 FUCKING DAYS OF VACATION STORED UP! 32! I MEAN……….UGH! The thought of taking care of me gives me anxiety.

I struggle with inadequacy. Feeling inadequate in the career position that I hold. Feeling inadequate in my ability to be there for my clients. Feeling inadequate in helping the others around me that struggle. Feeling financially inadequate, emotionally inadequate, or simply…..inadequate to even get out of bed that morning.

I engulf myself in helping others so that I will feel more adequate about my life……my capabilities. But in turn, I fade. I ignore my feelings about myself. I isolate those discussions, I self-sabotage those around me so they will just not want to be around me anymore, and therefore, confirm what my brain is telling me. You. Are. Inadequate…..OVERALL.

Our brains are tricky organs. And when you suffer from clinical depression……Our brain is our absolute worst enemy. The devil, a liar, a part of you that you MUST have, but you cannot always trust. Your best friend, your loved one, someone you want to believe is good.

And there is no solution here. Am I adequate? Yes. But I also have some inadequacies. And instead of trying to have zero inadequacies, I need to just learn to embrace them.

Numbness

I have not felt a thing for weeks.
But getting up and going to work on time
I did what needed to be done, then rushed home.
And even the main streets, those ancient charmers,
Failed to amuse me, and the fight between
The upstairs couple was nothing but loud noise.
None of it touched me, except as an irritation,
And though I knew I could stop
And enjoy if I wanted to
The karate excitement and the crowd
That often gathers in front of funeral homes,
I denied myself these dependable pleasures,
The tricks of anti-depression
That had taken me so long to learn,
By now worn smooth with use, like bowling alleys in my soul.
And certain records that one can’t hear without
Breaking into a smile, I refused to listen to
In order to find out what it would be like
To be cleansed of enthusiasm,
And to learn to honor my emptiness,
My indifference, myself at zero degrees.

More than any desire to indulge the numbness I wanted to be free of the bullying urge to feel, Or to care, or to sympathize. I have always dreaded admitting I was unfeeling From the time my father called me ‘a cold fish,’ And I thought he might be right, at nine years old And ever since I have run around convincing everyone What a passionate, sympathetic person I am.

I would have said no poetry can come From a lack of enthusiasm; yet how much of my life, Of anyone’s life, is spent in neutral gear? The economics of emotions demand it. Those rare intensities of love and anguish Are cheapened when you swamp them with souped-up ebulliences, A professional liveliness that wears so thin. There must be a poetry for that other state When I am feeling precisely nothing, there must Be an interesting way to write about it. There are continents of numbness to discover If I could have the patience or the courage.

But supposing numbness were only a disguised disappointment? A veil for anger? Then it would have no right to attention In and of itself, and one would always have to push on, Push on, to the real source of the trouble— Which means, back to melodrama. Is the neutral state a cover for unhappiness, Or do I make myself impatient and unhappy To avoid my basic nature, which is passive and low-key? And if I knew the answer, Would it make any difference in my life? At bottom I feel something stubborn as ice fields, Like sorrow or endurance, propelling me.

–Phillip Lopate

My Tears Do Not Mean I Am Weak

Do not equate my tears with weakness.

The tears equate to the screams that occur in my head daily.

The yelling of obscenities I tell myself I am.

The tears are little verbal jabs that I tell myself.

Jabs that tell me I am worthless and pointless.

The tears are physical punches of anger that I pass out to all those that made them occur.

The tears are my apologies to myself for being……simply…….myself.

The tears are my anxiety laughing at me.

Cackling at the ability for me to look weak to those around me.

Smiling that I am not strong enough to push through it.

Laughing at my attempts to façade my life to those around me.

Similarly, the cuts provide strength and release.

A false sense of strength, but strength nonetheless.

The viral development that forms within me is released so that I can get back to being stronger.

That is what I tell myself, at least. Every time.

Crimson allows me to breathe deeply and feel the cleanse of my thoughts.

Released. Purged. Absolution.

The fog lifts and the tears dry just as quickly as they formed within my eyes.

So do not equate anything weak about me as such.

Because eventually, eventually, my strength will re-appear.

I.NEED.A.BREATH!

These past few weeks have been a super struggle. I am exhausted. I am emotional. All I want to do is sleep and cry. There are the few moments within the days that are good. But, a majority of them are just shit. I do not remember the last time I had such a struggle to get out of a funk. I do not want to go to the gym. I do not want to go to work. I do not even want to speak to people. I just want to hide any way possible.

Taking lots of breaths and just kind of letting my emotions happen is the best way I can figure I can get out of this. I know holding things in will only eventually make me explode, which just cannot occur.

I am disliking my job more and more every day and just wish I could stop all things around me.

I need a breath.

I need a day.

I need some time where I do not have to answer questions, about anything, for 24 hours. JUST. STOP. TALKING. TO. ME! I can’t even get a word in edgewise to myself in my thoughts.

I am overwhelmed.

I am lost.

I am anxious.

I just want to see where I went so I can get back to my normal.

Unfortunately, there is absolutely no light at the end of the tunnel.

Dear Chem Imbalance……..You Need to Vacate the Premises.

 

Look.

Can you please just get your invasion over with?

I get that you want to remind me of your being within my brain.

Believe me…..I have not forgotten you.

But is it completely necessary to overstay your reminding welcome?

I got things I need to be prepared for, man.

Life, you know, that thing that you always want me to no longer focus on?

Well, fact is, I kinda like it sometimes.

I kinda like participating in it.

I got goals. Plans. Believe it or not, even people.

So, if there is any way you could vacate my mind and allow those happy chems to return

I would appreciate it.

No worries, I still know plan on following.

Just keep your sad shit at a distance, will ya?

We Need to Talk…..You Need to Do You, Baby!

 

Finding your groove can be difficult. Your body does not agree with your plans. Your brain boycotts its job to move and follow through. And then there are the people. You know who I mean. The people that question what you’re doing. Why you’re doing it. What is the point?

“That is all you eat?”

“You work out how much?”

“You do what for a living?”

“How can you handle all of that?”

“Are you crazy? You must be, cause I could never do all of that.”

Well that’s good. Cause that is you, not me.

Fact is, we owe no explanations to anyone. Especially those that question our life choices. So, for the sake of this post, let me set something straight…….

I barely sleep.

I get up between 3:00am and 3:30am every workday morning.

I go to the gym from 4:00am-5:30am

I then do CrossFit from 6:00am-7:00am

Then I go to work until 5:00pm (sometimes later). My job is stressful. Emotionally draining. But overall very gratifying when everything works out well.

After work I go home (although sometimes I go running with friends). Then it is the fur kids’ time with me. Laundry, housecleaning, yard work, etc.

I get to bed around 9:30pm-10:00pm. Then produce a series of 20 minutes naps throughout the night before I start all over again.

The weekends involve Roller Derby, races, triathlons, the gym, yoga, grocery, more house cleaning, a movie, and so on.

School is done, so no more homework and thesis papers to develop throughout the week and weekend.

Now, still with me? You tired from it all yet? Me too. But I am allowed to be tired from it all. BECAUSE IT IS MY LIFE AND MY CHOICES.

Mixed in there are pet sitting for some people that need it, meal prepping for the work week, and an all- around need to actually relax.

I know what you’re thinking……

“Ummm, when is the relaxing?” For me, it is at the gym, at CrossFit, and sometimes at Al-Anon meetings so I can decompress from my job and continue to understand and develop skills to help my clients. But all that is irrelevant….TO YOU. Why………. BECAUSE IT IS MY LIFE AND MY CHOICES.

So think about how you respond to people who make these choices. Are they asking you to participate in their crazy life? If not, how about you simply support their endeavors. Their choices. Instead of criticizing them.

I know my life is crazy and dramatic. I will be the first to admit it. Which is why it is okay for ME to talk about my life as crazy. Fact: I make it work. I am an animal of routine. Of schedules. I am learning to say “NO” to some things that would overwhelm me……but if I say “yes” it is because I like it. I want to do it.

There will always be critics. Always be those that want to tell you how bad “xyz” is for you. But remember, those people have their own lives too. So take their criticism with a grain of salt (unless you can tell them to fuck right off), and continue to do you. Because there are people here for you. There are people that support you. That circle may be small, but it is there. And if someone is not worthy of being in that circle…..turn and walk away.

So if you need some support from me…….I am here. Much Love.

Why We All Should Brag (but especially WOMEN)

So, I just read this interesting post regarding Megan Rapinoe and some comments that were made about her “loving herself” (presumably too much in a braggy way) and I got kind of frustrated. The link below is a fabulous response to this assumed insult (made by none other than Piers Morgan) and I think it represents a good understanding of why it is important for women to let those around them know that they are proud of their accomplishments.

In a world where, still in 2019, it is the basic understood custom of a”woman needing a man” and a “woman being their for her man” as what is, we as a society need to realize that is BULLSHIT.

Fact: Women don’t need men. Likewise, men don’t need women. Does it help having each other? Sure. Is it a requirement? No.

Fact: Women can, in fact, perform the same actions as men if we choose to do so. And, aside from the whole giving birth aspect, this is also true for men being able to do that of women.

Men and women are treated differently, paid differently, expect different things of each other, and honestly, do we need this drama on top of the other drama we have in the world at this time?

Men are expected to be strong and stoic; women to be weak and over-emotional. I have attached another link to a YouTube video that I had watched of men reading comments that were written about female sports writers. The women were aware of what the comments said, but the men (those reading the comments to the women aloud) were unaware until they were to read them. Why do people have to be at a level of cruelty because they do not like the fact that a woman writes about sports. That a women interviews football players. Why is this something that is seen as uncouth in a man’s world?

Men can brag about what they can accomplish and it is “manly”. Women brag about their accomplishments and it is “cocky”. Just brag about your shit people, and let it be what it is!

I bought my own home at 24 years old.

I have an Associate Degree, a Bachelor’s Degree, a Master’s Degree, and am working on a second one.

I am State Certified to perform substance use assessments and perform substance use counseling.

I built a treatment court program from the ground up, and run the entire thing, basically, on my own. AND got the program certified by the state as a valid and productive program.

I AM FUCKING PROUD OF WHAT I HAVE ACCOMPLISHED IN LIFE, AND ALL WOMEN AND MEN SHOULD BE AS WELL!

Own it, people! You work hard at something and someone recognizes it, never call it “little”.

 

Also, make sure to read this quick article below.

Link re: Piers Morgan comments on Meghan Rapinoe

 

A

Drugs are Quick….or Why it is important for me to remember my meds……

No one likes taking medication. Whether it is one pill daily or multiple pills daily, no one enjoys adding yet another reminder of something into their day. Especially if you are Type A, like myself, once something new needs to be added, you then have to make sure everything else is still good with the “new addition”.

And sometimes it is okay of people don’t remember to take their meds, or if they are on a schedule of taking them only as needed. But my meds are not like this. Mine are daily necessities. Not only for daily function, but also for what I like to refer to as “everyone else’s safety that is around me”.

Weekends are hard. Those days are the two days of the week I do not have a consistent routine and schedule. And the days I do not take them, boy can I feel it. I am sooooo lazy. All I want to do is sleep. All. Day. Now, I know those of you that know me well will say that I should take advantage of it as I rarely sleep during the week as it is, but back to that Type A personality thing…….I could feel fine sleeping the day away, and then, come night time be up thinking (what follows is an actual running brain thought):

“about how fucking lazy my fat ass was all fucking day when I could have done all these activities and overall felt better about myself and my fitness goals, but noooo, I decided that I wanted to just sleep and sleep and now I can’t get any extra workouts or other stuff in because tomorrow is work and that schedule is limited and always full and now I gotta wait until next weekend where I can try this over again and now I need to make sure that I meal prep so I don’t eat like shit tomorrow and then just allow that to follow through the whole week and continue this until it all starts over again because I was a fucking idiot and did not do what I needed to do and DAMNIT WHY DID I NOT TAKE MY MEDS!!!!!!!!!”

So yeah, drugs are quick and wonderful for me, when I remember them. But the struggle is real, people, it is real. 

Much love……..A

Why I Complain About A Job I Love

I love my job. It is stressful, time consuming, emotionally draining (at times), but I love my job. I am good at my job. I love to see the progress my clients make. I love to get calls from them years after program completion to hear that they are still doing well. And I get sad and feel somewhat responsible, at times, when I see that they have relapsed and been arrested.

Not all repeat drunk drivers are alcoholics. Most of my clients are not what we as society assumes an alcoholic is. About 85% of my clients have lives that are discombobulated and mismanaged and simply are at a complete loss on how to even get on track. So they self-medicate. And yes, this can then lead to a more solid addiction. But it is getting even those that interview for my program to understand, this will comminute in a negative manner until they get things straightened out.

But it is the clients who come in for the interview, telling me they have no issues at all with alcohol or drugs and just made a stupid decision. Again. And some choose to stick to that story no matter how much discussion we have. And maybe those people are right. They were just stupid. Again. But then there are the few clients that come in, have no issues, and as we talk further they break down.

I am much different than most “classic” probation officers. Those individuals do the best job with which they are given the capabilities of. We deal with adults. There needs to be an aspect of responsibility taken on their end as well. But I am open. Blunt. I may not suffer from addiction, but I know what families’ go through on that side. I tell potential clients that with both perspectives being represented, we can look more comprehensively at their issues of concern. That it is okay to have been diagnosed with mental health issues. I myself have those issues. And it is not all rainbows and unicorns every day.

Yesterday, I spoke with a potential client who just finally broke down and said that I was, “a breath of fresh air” in regards to my understanding. That simply because she needs medication to help her function, that does not mean she is a horrible person. That I will work with her to help her achieve the success she wants to achieve. But I will not pull her along. Many times, these individuals are not used to hearing these things from someone in my position.

The stigma of mental health and addiction is simply out of control just as much as the addiction crises that we have in our society today. Yes, technically, these people are criminals. They have committed crimes. Crimes that could have easily injured or killed themselves or someone else. But these are people. Treating them with understanding of why they are in front of me, and how to make sure they are NEVER in front of me again, that allows for success. Not for everyone, but for most. And that is what I try to accomplish every day.

I watched a video once of some people who came back to thank one of their high school teachers for his teachings. They talked to him about their successes in life, and how instrumental he was in those successes. I have a sign in my office that quotes that teacher (who I do not know the name of) that I look at daily to remind myself that I do this for a reason. For purpose.

“If you can change someone’s perception of themselves, and make them better that what they thought they were, then you have done a good job”.

Watch Out…..

The strength in me burns with a blinding light, yet only appears on an eclipse timeline

I beat myself up everyday to then hopefully be changed by the night

There are days it does not work

There are days where the hate is so strong it keeps me from even seeing what I can see within myself

As if I am locked in a room, screaming, pounding to get out

But the hate within me keeps me locked away

Sure, I am stronger than I used to be

Sure, I have changed the perception of myself to others

Sure, I have still stayed true to my willingness to look myself in the mirror and tell myself that I will progress today

Sometimes, progression is simply being able to laugh

Sometimes, progression is a full on, knock down, drag out body beatdown to sweat out the toxins within my body and mind

Sometimes, it is getting out of bed with a plan to conquer the world and set it on fire

I am getting stronger and stronger everyday

Sometimes in small amounts

Sometimes in exponential amounts

So, watch out, even I do not know what will come of me in the morning

But I will work on it being epic in every way possible