The Transition Spiral

For a year I was able to work from home. At the time it felt like a dream come true and I was very content with not having to commute an hour to and from work every day. I loved being able to be casual and have a flexible schedule. I wasn’t as drained mentally and physically. I was also able to save a lot of money because I didn’t have a car.

Then my job called me back.

This was disappointing because I had been told I could permanently work from home. But changes at work necessitated me going back.

My boss tried to make it better on me. I got a raise to cover the cost of getting a new car and I got a new office with a window that was completely redecorated. They even made sure to include a little shelf that turns into a desk for when Jess comes to visit as well as a lamp so I don’t have to have to turn on the fluorescent lights. It was a nice touch and showed me they were really trying to make my return to the office less miserable.

But the one thing they can’t fix is the depression spiral that’s followed. Even though I’m still on my meds and still going to therapy, it’s still so draining mentally and emotionally to have to be “on” all day. I now have four new people I’m in charge of and most of the time I feel like I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.

Everything is overwhelming. Even the dumb small things that shouldn’t be hard. I dropped my keys when I got home today and had a slight meltdown because it was just ONE.MORE.THING that I had to do.

I was telling the therapist how lonely it all gets, being in charge of everything all the time. I never get to turn off. At work I’m in charge of everything as Director of Operations. This means clients and co-workers and my boss are coming to me constantly with demands on my time an attention. The amount of stuff I’m expected to know is suffocating and there are several times during the day where it gets hard to breathe.

Then I come home and I have to be in charge of everything here. I have to do the cooking, cleaning, making the money, paying the bills, coordinating Jessica’s schedule and rides, staying involved with my friends, taking care of the dogs and recently trying to help my grandmother with the financial shitstorm she got herself into. It’s always something.

ALWAYS!

There’s never a time/space where I get to just breathe.

I thought I would try to create this time/space by planning a vacation. Now that I can delegate some stuff at work and have someone capable of filling in for me, it’s actually possible for me to have some real time off.

But then it just turns into another overwhelming task to take care of. Where to go, where to stay, how to get there, what to do when we get there, who’s going to watch the dogs, how am I going to pay for this? There’s so much searching for flights, hotels, etc. Everyone acts like it’s supposed to be fun but it isn’t. I just want to curl up and cry because I don’t know how to make this happen.

And it all ends up just highlighting the alone. I’m so alone. At the end of the day it really is just me having to hold it all together. All of it. And I’m supposed to be happy and thankful all the time. I have to have constant gratitude because I know it could all be (and many times has been) so much worse. I am so extremely fortunate to have a great job and supportive friends and a relatively self sufficient daughter. On paper and from the outside my life looks great and I know it’s completely tone deaf for me to be complaining.

But I’m just so tired.

And I’m so lonely.

Where do I go when I need a break? Who holds me when I need to cry and assures me that everything is going to be okay? Who pays the bills when I just can’t look at one more screen? Who cleans the house when it’s taking all the energy I have just to stay alive? Who plans the time off I desperately need to take? Who helps me plan for the future so I can stop being so scared of it?

Where does the strong person go when she’s tired of being the strong person? Where does she go when she needs to put down the burden she carries alone?

So here I am again. Back where I was pre-Covid. Overwhelmed, exhausted, anxious and circling the drain with no idea how to pull out of it.

Might as well go to sleep.

The Fire is Me

My journey into this round of therapy has reached its one year mark. The hard thing about therapy is just learning how to do therapy. A typical session is me whining over some surface issue (work mostly) for 55 minutes and then at the end of the session mentioning something that hints at the deeper issues just to say “well that’s all our time”.

It’s an avoidance maneuver. I know it. My therapist knows it. Thankfully she’s been super supportive about it and helping me learn how to get comfortable and feel safe enough to start doing the hard work. She asked what I was scared of and I told her I’m terrified if I go into the dark stuff, I won’t come back out. The last time I was deep in those old wounds I almost didn’t survive. There’s so much more at stake now and I’m not willing to risk this precarious stability I’ve built.

But then I read the book “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel van der Kolk. Apparently this book is having a moment right now. It was recommended by someone in my book club and I put it on hold then forgot about it for a few months until I got the notification that it was my turn to listen to it.

It is not exaggerating to say that this is the most important book I’ve ever read/listened to. It’s also one of the most difficult. Listening to detailed accounts of other people’s trauma is definitely triggering and there were many times where the book was too much and I had to put it down. But ultimately I got a lot out of it and when I went to therapy last night we talked about it. I was glad she’d already read and liked the book. It offered a good starting point and for the first time I felt comfortable pulling back some of the layers to get to the core of my issues.

I’ve never really felt right about calling my experience “trauma”. To me trauma felt like a singular event with a clear before and after that happens and derails someone’s life. But what I learned from this book is that growing up in an environment of extreme and long term stress without a sense of safety is a trauma that has long lasting physical impacts on the mind and body.

This book helped me understand that thing that’s been eluding me. The “why” of my situation. Previously I wrote about how the problem was I know what the goal is, I know what I have to do reach the goal but I just can’t do the thing consistently for long enough to make progress. Last night was like this epiphany where I put together that my entire life has been in a constant state of fight or flight. All those stress hormones have been flooding my body and wrecking havoc since I was a child. The dangerous and toxic behaviors were all just ways to disassociate from that chronic feeling of always having to be on guard. I always knew they were ways to escape my feelings but I never could wrap my head around just what feelings I was trying to escape.

My life was always on the defensive moving from crisis to crisis putting out fires. When I was younger it was trying to navigate the explosive environment I grew up in. When I got older it was trying to managed relationships, cope with poverty, finish school, find a job and keep my fragile tether to the world from breaking. Over time I learned how to use that constant state of fear to propel me forward in hopes of escaping the environment that kept me afraid.

Last night it dawned on me that there’s no more fires. There’s no more crisis. I’m safe and there’s no more danger to escape. This is all unknown territory and the brain doesn’t like unknown. The brain craves familiar and retreats to the “comfort zone” to find it.

Without an external danger to focus on, the threats have been coming from inside the house in the form of uncomfortable feelings and negative self talk. My brain goes back into fight or flight mode against these feelings/thoughts and escapes to the thing that provides comfort and feels safe and familiar. For a long time now that thing has been food.

This all brought me back to my original issue when I started therapy. The original problem was knowing what needs to be done, knowing how to do it, having every resource to get it done but still not being able to do it. Why?

Without the fire, without the crisis there’s no fuel to move forward. There’s no sense of urgency because the only thing at stake is me and for the longest time I haven’t allowed myself a place of priority in my life.

In the book he talks about “notice that” and “what happens next”.

I’ve noticed I am the fire and now I have to make a plan for what happens next.

Now it’s time to start really doing the work of processing the trauma of the past and learning how to welcome the whole spectrum of my feelings instead of hiding from the painful ones. My therapist is going to help me work on mindfulness and getting to know myself as a full person. My nutrition coaches will continue to help me develop a healthier relationship with food. My CG trainers will continue to help me develop a healthier relationship with my body. My friends will continue to cheer for my wins and offer a safe place for me to lean on when I struggle.

Healing is not linear and I know better than to expect drastic changes immediately. I know this is a process that I’m going to have to trust. I know it’s not going to be easy. I’ve done so many parts of this so many times but I think this is the first time I’m actually starting in the right place; working from the inside out.

What if…

I feel like I’ve spent my entire life just trying to survive. Now I’m scared that I will die before I ever get the chance to really experience any joy of actually living. Every day has just been trying to get through the basics of scratching out a living and keeping life held together enough to make it to the next day. I haven’t had the privilege of planning too far into the future because I’ve always just been focused on getting through the day.

I had planned on this year being the year I actually tried to travel. I put the vacation time on the calendar, ordered the travel brochures, researched places and made some plans. I was so excited then gradually it all just started to fall apart. Between significant changes at work, one of my dogs needing an expensive surgery, the other dog being terrified of people, and then more significant changes at work, it just kept getting pushed back and back and back again. Now I don’t think it’s actually going to happen.

Every now and then I’ve been able to eek out a tiny bit of recreation and joy but there’s always this undercurrent of foreboding. This underlying fear and panic just below the surface that this little bit of enjoyment will come at some higher cost down the road. And that little slice of joy that I’m able to carve out is never quite enough to sustain or even take an edge off this overwhelming hopeless feeling.

Like really what is the point of it all? Why am I trying so hard for so long and still feel like I’m getting absolutely nowhere?

It’s so lonely over here. It’s just me trying to make it all happen and I honestly don’t know how much I left in me. The only thing keeping me tethered is my daughter and the dogs. The only thing that gets me out of bed is knowing they are depending on me for everything. But who do I get to depend on? Who do I get to lean on? There’s no one here to help pick up any of the slack. I’m responsible for everything and it’s exhausting. My mind is tired. My body is tired. My soul is tired.

And it feels like no one understands. No one in my life really understands what I’m going through. I don’t think anyone really understands how lonely and isolated I am even when I’m with a circle of friends that I really enjoy being around. Even in that circle, I still feel that comparison envy barging in pointing out how charmed their lives seem with their life partners, fully functional children, pets that aren’t neurotic, and dual incomes. I know everyone has their struggles, but how wonderful it must be not having to go through them completely alone.

So here I am at work. Pushing this vacation time back to November, knowing the road trip I had planned is probably not going to happen. Crying because it’s just one more piece of life that is out of my reach and unattainable.

Honestly, what’s the point?

Dear Younger Me

My therapist gives me homework assignments to work on in between sessions. One of the first ones was to write a letter to the people responsible for a significant amount of the pain in my life but that turned out to be really hard for me so I shelved it. Last week she suggested that I write a letter to the younger version of me since that might be a more positive experience. So I figured I would just blog it.

Dear younger me,

There’s two ways this letter could go. The first (and most tempting) is to write about all the things you should do differently to make life less difficult. The second is to write about how to through the very difficult life that’s ahead.

Since I can’t go back in time to actually make different choices, I’m going to pick the second option and tell you the things I wish someone would have during those tough times.

The first thing you have to know is that this isn’t your fault. Before you were even a thought, the dye was already cast. You were born into bad circumstances. You couldn’t have controlled this any more than your mother or her mother could. Unfortunately it’s going to be 40 years before you’re able to really know the “why” and that still won’t be enough to completely erase the damage, but it will help you to understand it.

The second thing you should know is that even though it’s going to take a really long time, you will eventually build an incredible life. I know it’s impossible to believe that you’ll ever be happy, but I promise you that it will happen. It won’t happen in the way that you dreamed. You’re not going to get rescued by a long lost family, or run away and create a new identity and you won’t meet a prince charming. Instead you’re going to work hard and persevere and claw your way to independence. I wish I could tell you that it will get easier, but it won’t. Eventually you’ll understand that better doesn’t equal easy. Life is always going to be hard, but you’re going to be a woman that rises to and overcomes every single challenge that comes your way.

I want you to know that you are going to survive every single one of those heartbreaks that steal your ability to breathe and function. You will eventually learn to be okay in the loneliness and you’ll raise your standards so high that your solitude will be your sanctuary. You will learn how to demand your worth and how to wait for someone that really deserves all the love you have to offer. And if that someone never comes, you’ll know that it’s still going to be okay.

You will out grow the friends that aren’t good for you and eventually you’re going to find the best circle of women that will become the family you never had. They’re going to love and support you in ways that sometimes makes you uncomfortable because you’re not going to be used to that kind of genuine love. And they’ll still be loving and supportive and understanding when you have to pull away and retreat for awhile to rest and recharge your soul. You’ll look to them as role models and use them as the template for creating your best life.

During the darkest of times when you’re on the edge and wanting to jump, I want you to be proud of yourself for continuing to live. Choosing to stay alive will be the hardest choice you’ll make but it will be the most rewarding. There is so much love and so many happy days waiting for you. Your pain is valid, but it’s also temporary. One day you will come to terms with the pain, unpack it and learn how to put it in the past where it belongs. You’re going to learn how to accept spoken apologies and the unspoken ones that come only through changed behavior and understanding “why”.

You’re going to choose to be a mother. It will be unexpected but it will not be unwanted. It’s a decision that you will make with your whole heart without a second thought even though you’ll be terrified of being a bad mom. Even though you will struggle with motherhood early on, you will end up raising the most incredible young woman. You will do whatever it takes to make sure she never has to experience the pain you felt as a kid. You will be tender, nurturing, encouraging and attentive. You will push her and challenge her to be her best. Even though she will be born with special needs, she will grow up not knowing it and everyone she meets will be blown away by how smart and talented she is.

You’re going to feel like your life is full of regrets while your growing up but as an adult you’ll realize that every hardship taught you something. When you look back at all your choices, you’ll find only a few that are genuine regrets. You will find gratitude for even the hardest experiences and you will learn how to walk away from things that aren’t meant for you. You will find stability and learn how to fiercely protect your peace of mind.

What I want you to know and have faith in more than anything is that you will survive every single thing life throws at you. Not only will you survive but you will always come out stronger, smarter and more determined.

Meeting in the Middle

Early last year I did some work with a life coach and found the experience really helpful. I was able to learn a lot about goal setting and creating strategies to achieve them. I knocked out a few projects, but when our time was over, COVID hit and it didn’t take me long to back track. Back then my big issue was the inability to finish things. At the time I was studying for the CFP and having the hardest time getting the class done. With the help of a coach I was able to get through half of the first class.

Fast forward to the end of last year and it became apparent that I was not okay. The life coach offered a bartering deal for us to work together again and we decided we’d start back up again the beginning of 2020.

At the same time I started seeing a therapist, taking Wellbutrin, and some vitamin supplements to address some serious deficiencies. The idea being that my doctor would help me work on my physical problems and my therapist would help work on my mental problems and we’d hopefully meet in the middle with a happy functional me 🙂

When I picked things back up with the life coach he made it very clear that therapy and coaching don’t always mix because therapy is helping you deal with the past while coaching is helping you deal with the present and when you’re trying to do both at the same time it can be difficult. I assured him that I was able to compartmentalize the two because we’d be working on different things. I figured he would help with the projects like getting back on my fitness program or finishing my class and my therapist would help with the big stuff like my anxiety and depression.

I meet with them both bi-weekly but alternating weeks so I make sure to have a meeting with at least one of them every week. This helps me stay on track and avoid long gaps of not having anyone to help me work through stuff.

All of this brings me to the last couple weeks.

Where I’m at in therapy has finally met up with where I’m at in coaching. They have both identified that I know what my goals are, I know what I need to do to reach those goals but I’m absolutely paralyzed and unable to do the thing. I tend to give an all out 100% effort in the beginning when it’s new but as soon as it becomes a challenge or doesn’t give immediate results, I get bored and quit. Then I stay in that mode until I get so frustrated that I create a new plan and try again. This cycle repeats itself over and over again and results in very little progress towards my long term goals.

My therapist has helped me identify that I have trouble committing to myself because I struggle to love myself. And while we’re digging deep into Pandora’s box of why I feel so unlovable, my homework has been to be nice to myself and remind myself that I’m worthy of love from other people and from myself.

My coach has helped me identify that my brain doesn’t know the difference between negative comments that come from other people and negative comments that come from myself. The reason I’m always feeling so tired and run down is because my internal dialog is so mean. He said he knows I’m the type of person that would cut a toxic person out of my life quickly and I wouldn’t put up with someone dragging me down. But in this case I’m the toxic person and I cant cut myself off. I can’t escape from myself so it’s a nonstop onslaught of mental abuse and it’s coming from me!

I’m basically gaslighting myself! Wow.

I’m setting goals and developing strategies to reach them, but then in the background I’m also saying stuff like:

“You’re never going to get there.”

“You’re just going to quit, so might as well not try.”

“You’re lazy”

“You waste so much time”

Then all this internal abuse turns into external stuff like:

“I can’t stick to a plan”

“I’m too tired”

“I’m not the kind of person that can commit to anything.”

“I’ll start over Monday/next week/next month.”

When I was talking to my coach today I originally thought my issue was social media and thinking maybe that was the thing that was getting in my way and even though it is dragging me down, I’m still reluctant to give it up. After working through the stuff above, I realized the reason that I can’t seem to throw away social media is because that’s the only source of encouragement for me. My facebook friends cheer for my accomplishments, and motivate me to keep moving forward through all the difficult things when I just want to give up.

My coach asked me what my life would be life if I treated myself the way I treat the people I love. He asked me what would be different about my life if I stopped the negative self talk. I was honestly at a loss because I can’t remember a single day in my life that I wasn’t tearing myself apart over something.

A quote I heard from a friend many years ago has always stuck with me.

“Love is a verb.”

Love is an action. It’s something we choose to do.

My therapist is asking me to be more aware of times I love myself, times where I’m choosing to show myself love. My coach is telling me to practice loving myself, do specific actions to love myself.

I do not expect the next part of this journey to be easy. There’s almost 40 years of programming inside myself that has to be rewritten from scratch. Even now I’m ready to say something that anticipates the failure like “I know there are going to be days when it’s hard to find anything about me to love.” I’m not sure how much of that is rooted in the realty of this is a process and there will be stumbles and how much is coming from the negative part of me that expects me to give up when it turns into work.

My coach suggested that I start and end my day in gratitude to myself. Even though this makes me really uncomfortable because it seems so self indulgent, when there are people with much bigger problems than me. But he reminded me that I’m not using my time to solve those people’s problems anyways, so I have nothing to lose taking the time to solve my own. Can’t help others if your own cup is empty.

So my homework for the next couple of weeks is to spend the first and last 10 minutes of the day completely on myself. I’ll write in my gratitude log things about myself that I’m grateful for in the morning and then at night I’ll praise myself for the things I did well. Positive behavior reinforcement works for dogs and kids, so maybe it can work for myself.

In therapy I’ll continue to unpack the things in the past that I’ve been hanging onto and work on letting them go. I’ll continue to dig into the “why” of things so I can have a better understanding of how I got here. In coaching I’ll continue working on the “how” of things to map out strategies for moving away from this space and into a more positive and healthy relationship with myself.

My nutrition coach will keep helping me have a better relationship with food and my CG trainers will continue encouraging me to get back into workouts (Summer Challenge starting in a couple weeks!). My friends will keep cheering me on and being the role models I look up to.

It really does take a village and I’m eternally grateful that I have such a loving circle supporting me while I rebuild myself.

Harry Potter & The Girl Who Asked for Help

They say the hardest part of fixing a problem is admitting there’s a problem. This is not the case for me. That’s the easiest part for me. I know there’s a problem, I know what the problem is. I even know how to fix the problem because I’ve paid several professionals to tell me how to fix the problem.

The hardest part of fixing the problem for me is sticking with the solution long enough to see results.

I can follow my meal plan for a couple weeks, work out a few times a day, and stick to my time blocking for a week but when that doesn’t result in immediate tangible results I get overwhelmed and quit. I don’t quit permanently though. I only quit until I’m overwhelmed with the things I wanted to change in the first place. Then I buy a new journal/tracker/system/pen (anything that makes it look like I’m getting my shit together) and set out creating a new plan.

Because that’s the problem right? It’s nothing to do with my lack of consistency. It’s the plan! It has to be something wrong with the plan otherwise it means there’s something wrong with me. Right?

But this time the quitting felt different. The hopelessness hit harder. And that was scary.

For the first time in a long time, I couldn’t see a path out of the dark and I knew it was time to get help.

I have my primary care doctor, personal trainers (Camp Gladiator) and a nutrition coach to help me with the physical health. I have an executive coach that helps me with my career development. Even though these people are highly qualified in their field, they’re not adequately equipped to help me address the underlying root of my issues.

For this I need a therapist.

After consulting my insurance company and finding out they aren’t going to cover a damn thing till I meet my ridiculous deductible, I started feeling really low. I wasn’t sure how I was going to afford this, even though I knew it was the exact piece of the puzzle that I needed.

I remember Harry Potter was playing in the background when I was reviewing the list of therapists my insurance company sent over. Dumbledore had just finished telling Harry that help would always be given to those who ask for it.

So I scheduled a consult with a therapist and trusted that help would come.

A week later my boss told me I was getting a 10% raise effective January 1st.

I remember reading in The Alchemist “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” I swear that never felt more true than in that moment. It was the first time all year I felt like things were falling into place.

Tonight I had the initial consult with my new therapist.

We start working together tomorrow.

Texts in the drafts

I unlocked my phone and opened my messages because I had something on my mind. But each time I started to write it out, I felt like it wasn’t something that person would want to hear. It felt rude to just dump my issues out on someone without warning so I thought about texting a simple “do you have emotional bandwidth to talk me through something?” but then I felt like people would worry about me and feel obligated to reply “yes” even if they didn’t. So I closed my phone and cried.

Crying happens a lot these days.

2020 has been an absolute shit show and somewhere in the middle of it all, I’ve lost of my tether on everything. All my goals and plans for reaching them just evaporated.

This fall feels familiar. The dark suffocating embrace of emptiness that I’ve managed to avoid for years is back. I’m having a hard time finding the point of it all anymore.

I can’t remember the last time I was happy and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend that everything is okay.

An obvious truth hidden in plain sight

I’ve deliberately refrained from blogging about my most recent journey in physical health. When I started in January, I wasn’t certain I’d be successful. I wasn’t keen to leave another record of another failed attempt to get my life together. My blog and book shelves are full of optimistic attempts that ran out of steam after a few days/weeks/months.

This effort has been different.

Yes I say that every time.

This has been my most consistent effort, even if it’s been full of stumbles lately.

In January I signed up for an 8 week challenge. I couldn’t afford so I put it on a credit card. The person with the best results got their money back. I told myself I had to get the best results so I could pay off the credit card charge. Over 8 weeks I had a trainer that gave me personalized meal plans and work outs. I was pretty religious about following the meal plan and I worked out twice a day every day. In the end I lost the most weight and won the challenge. The high of winning was indescribable. The recognition and praise were intoxicating. I got some skinny jeans, posted pics and basked in all the likes and comments that rolled in.

But the high was short lived.

I signed up with the monthly coaching. I have an accountability group that’s so supportive. I have an amazing trainer that I probably don’t deserve. He pushes me and encourages me. He gives me all the tools to be successful, but I’m still failing.

Miserably.

I saw a post online that said something to the effect of “You can eat right and exercise but if you don’t fix this shit going on in your head, you’ll never be healthy.” And that’s where I’m at now.

I’ve been skipping work outs and eating whatever the hell I want. I haven’t been logging my meals. I haven’t entered my weight. It started with birthday parties and holidays around Easter. Then it became weekend “I deserve this” treats that turned into depression/anxiety binges.

Today as I sat in the car crying and stuffing my mouth with chips and m&m’s I finally really saw myself. I think I’ve known this for awhile, but knowing and admitting are two different things.

My eating is the self abuse I can get away with.

If I got stressed at work and pulled out a razor to cut myself, my co-workers would (rightfully) freak out and intervene. They would call me out and do whatever it took to stop me from hurting myself. Because that’s what we’re supposed to do.

But when I get stressed and run down to the vending machine for two bags of chips and m&m’s, no one says anything. No one tries to pull the snacks from my hands. No one intervenes to tell me stop sabotaging my meal plan and workouts.

In this day and age of body positive anti-fat shaming, no one tells you shit if you’re over eating. So much of our social construct revolves around food. We eat to celebrate, we eat to grieve. We give food to communicate love and appreciation. And it’s not like we’re giving carrots or bringing baked chicken breast to the pot luck. No, it’s the cookies, cakes, candy, and good old fashioned comfort foods. It’s the wine, beer and snacks. It’s where we get a sense of community.

So take all that and imagine how hard it is to get over an eating disorder. It’s not like drugs, or drinking or cutting. With those you can just stop doing them. Sure it’s hard as fuck to stop doing them, but you don’t have to have them to live and be part of society.

You do need food though.

You can’t just stop eating. Because then you just trade one compulsive eating disorder for another.

Learning how to have a whole new relationship with food is hard. It’s everywhere and it requires this mental battle all the time. I literally scream at myself mentally. I cry a lot when I eat now. I don’t enjoy food anymore. None of it. Not the good for me stuff or the bad for me stuff. It’s pretty depressing and I’m not really sure where to go from here.

I keep trying to get back on it. I keep reminding myself of the things my trainer told me. “Self discipline is self love” and “if you quit you, you’ll be back where you started and back when you started, you really wanted to be where you are now.”

I can feel myself spiraling out of control. I can feel my grip on my metal health slipping and it’s scary.

So much of my life is in a free fall right now and I’m getting lost in it all.

I haven’t quit yet though.

Tomorrow I’ll wake up and try again.

At the end of the day that has to count for something.

 

 

 

Delete

As usual it’s been awhile.

As usual I’ve stumbled back into some feelings that need a place to go so here we are.

How is it already almost the end of the year? I still feel like I’m in exactly the same spot I was 10 months ago.

I’m in this place where nothing makes me happy and I feel guilty about not being content with how blessed my life actually is. From the outside looking it, I don’t really have much to complain about, yet all I’m doing lately is complaining.

I have my home, but maintaining it is too much work.

I have a great career, but it’s so overwhelming it’s not longer fun.

I have the best daughter, but she’s a young adult and I have no idea what I’m doing.

I have dogs that I love, but they destroy my home and limit my freedom.

I have supportive friends, but the comparison envy makes it hard to be around them.

I have goals, but I have no drive to work on any of them.

Everything feels like it’s not enough and too much at the same time. Even this blog has gotten overwhelming and I just want to say fuck it and exit the tab. What’s the point?

I have these little bursts of motivation, where I get fed up and demand me to stop being like this. Stop being a spoiled brat that’s always wanting more than you have. Stop being lazy and putting everything off till later then getting pissed off later comes knocking on the door and nothing is done. Last night I took out the goal planning pages that I printed two months ago and never did anything with. I made some goals. Solid goals that seem pretty doable. Complete the Minimalism challenge. Stop using credit card for stupid shit. Get a second job. Limit social media and other time sucking distractions.

Make an effort to be more consistently intentional with how I spend my time.

On the way here I had to literally tell myself not to stop at the corner store for snacks. It’s the dumbest thing! Why am I like this? I’ll work out in the morning, eat a perfectly healthy and balanced breakfast and then stop at the store for two bags of Sweet Chili Doritos before I get to work. $4.09 / 900 calories. Stupid.

I spend all day on Sunday cleaning/prepping/planning for a week that’s going to be totally on point. Then by Wednesday I don’t care anymore and it all goes to hell. Then by Friday I say next week will be different.

But it’s never different.

Ever.

I decided today would be different. I skipped the chips. It’s strange how I miss them. Why do I miss chips? Is this withdrawals? Can you be addicted to chips? How sad.

I deleted the facebook app, OkCupid dating app, and a couple addictive games that are a complete waste of time and contribute to hours of unproductive scrolling. I deleted over three thousand pictures that I’ve been hanging onto for who knows what reason. I never really look at the pics in my phone. Anything worth seeing I already posted somewhere. Delete, Delete, Delete! That was my mode today.

I think I’ve reached for my phone over twenty times since I started this blog. I took all the apps off my home screens. There’s nothing but my calendar, the text button and the phone call button. Each time I scroll, it reminds me of the goal to be intentional and stop looking for way to procrastinate.

I read this quote when I was looking for a Motto statement for my goal setting sheet.

“Technology has become a crutch I’m using to get through an uncomfortable experience. Its a way of putting off the work but still convincing myself I’m doing something worthwhile. Aside from talking to my family, none of it has been worthwhile. In this instance technology is a distraction that is keeping me from feeling uncomfortable, from thinking too deeply, from doing too much. The biggest culprits behind the endless scrolling:
– Boredom
– procrastination
– emotional discomfort
– self sabotage
– self loathing or dissatisfaction 
– habit
– looking for someone or something to inspire us.

Always pay attention to what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Use it as a tool, not as a crutch.” 
― Brooke McAlary, Slow: Simple Living for a Frantic World

I can’t think of the last time something hit me so hard.  I immediately added the book to my list of things to read.

I’m not going to kid myself into thinking this is going to be some turning point and everything is going to magically come together, but I do think today was a good first step.

Today was admitting there is a problem and making the decision to work on fixing it.

 

Me, a Haiku

A dormant orchid

Exploding into full bloom

Again, she rises