Anxiety Attacks

It has been awhile since I have talked about my anxiety and my reaction to it. The reason has been that my anxiety has been under control for the most part. And when I have had a panic attack there has been someone there to help me through it. Yesterday though I had a doozy of one.
I was getting ready to go out when I suddenly stopped in the middle of the kitchen and began my count down. T.V. off, check. Computer shut down and turned off, check. Coffee maker is off, check. Have fed the cats, and than I became distracted. When I returned my attention to where I had been, I realized that I had to start my check list off from the beginning.
I made it through and gathered up the garbage to take down and away I went. As I walked down my brain began it to whir. I began to make connections between what I had done while standing in the middle of the kitchen floor, to when I stop suddenly at work, ennumerating the list of tasks that I have accomplished or still need to do, is all due to my anxiety.  I don’t always have anxiety attacks with sweaty palms, or a racing heart. I do feel a sense of dread, a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes it hard for me to swallow. Sometimes I forget the simplest of words, words that I use on a daily basis, and while I search, my mind wanders and I forget what I was saying. My embarassment is massive and at that time I wish that the floor would open up beneath me so I could fall straight down to the pits of eternal damnation rather than stand there like a total idiot.
Given that I love words, my inability to think of or pronounce correctly the right word, is an indication of anxiety within me. My only problem at times is trying to figure out what it is that has triggered that paticular bout of anxiety.
If work related it is pretty easy to figure it out. I make a mistake and even though I can correct said mistake, I feel awful. I fear that it will be enough that I may be spoken to. I go over what had been done and struggle to make sense of how I could have been that stupid. Made that big of a mistake.
In my personal life, it is not always that easy. Again some are, such as returning to work after a two week holiday. I use to always be afraid that when I went back in for my first shift I would be fired. The last couple days I would go over everything I had done prior to my holidays. This is the first year that I haven’t. But for the most part, I do not always know why I am having an anxiety attack, I only know that something is off within me and I need to counter it with my lists and double check lists to calm.
I am never going to be free of anxiety. What I am going to do is continue to find more tools to put into the self care tool kit which helps me to get through each and every episode.
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Flawless

I like to believe that I have no flaws
that I can get through my day without tripping
without stealing away
to drug my thoughts, my pain.
I suck them back with greed
they calm the beast within
and I cannot tell
I cannot send him running
I do not have the strength.
7,10 at a time
anything to obliviate
this heart of mine.
I feel too much
I love too hard
I try to make it all right
for everyone
but myself.
This pain that I fight
I have no idea where it comes from
I only know that this is not the right way
as I flush the pills
once again.
I need help,
I need assistance,
I am not as strong as I make myself out to be.
I hold my hand out
a silent plea.
Do not judge my sins,
hold me and aide me,
for it killed me to admit this.
Jay-lyn Doerksen
Dec. 3/17

My True Career

This is not truly a conversation with myself but a friend this morning. We were talking about my post from last evening and he was congratulating me on how I had handled the situation. That most would have shied away from touching on such a difficult subject with a prepubescent child.

I responded with:

There was no point in pulling any punches. With all that kids these days are seeing, hearing, watching and reading, how so much violence and pain is sensationalized and we become inured to it. I will not be party to making my child complacent. He needs to be horrified by violence, pained by the trials of the world that we are living in. (I added in a little more to clarify and paint a picture of what I meant)

It is my job to show him that the world is not always going to be kind but his kindness and his goodness will make a difference.

That is my job as his mom.

 

 

Relationship Goals

 

Relationship goals:

  1. Find a guy who makes me laugh.
  2. Find a guy who talks to me.
  3. Find a guy who listens.
  4. Find a guy who respects me.
  5. Find a guy who encourages me in my hobbies even when he does not understand them.
  6. Find a guy who encourages my passion(s).
  7. Find a guy who when I impose limits; accepts them without arguing.
  8. Find a guy who will hug me when I am sad.
  9. Find a guy who will celebrate my successes and failures. (Failures lead to future successes)
  10. Find a guy who will hold me while I ugly cry, barf into a bucket, or any other issue that makes me feel like shit.

These are my goals. Not for everyone I know. And really folks I used the term guy because I like men. These rules can apply every which way. (Except children and animals but that really should not need to be stated.)

This is a pretty steep set of goals a man must face if he wants to move beyond the friend zone with me. However I know what my worth is now. After years of setting my wants and needs to the side, I now realize where I stand.

And if my frog never arrives to be kissed, reverting to said Prince status, I will still live my life to the fullest, inspired and loved by those who do find their way into this story of mine.

 

Him

I see you looking
when you think I am not;
side glances
beneath your lashes.
I see you wanting,
needing the comfort I provide.
Yet I do not know
how to offer it without offense.
I see you needing
the love that I hide
because I am not sure
that what I feel is right.
You appear so strong,
so able.
And I know that you want to appear
as though it is easy.
I know how much you struggle.
I know how much you care.
I know how much you long
for that someone to hold you,
to tell you that things will work themselves out.
I want to be him.
I want to hold you tight.
I want to hold you close……
I want to melt winter’s embrace.
 ©Jay-lyn Doerksen
November 7/17

I am a bunny

***Image via Cartoon Network found on Internet.

I am a bunny

hear me roar.

What?

You say that I cannot roar?

That I am too tiny and too cute?

Do you not see the fierceness

with which I protect my heart?

Do you not see

that I am the provider of my family?

I am a bunny

see me soar.

Why?

Why do you say I cannot soar?

That I am meant to stay rooted to the ground?

Do you not see the dreams

that I create within this harsh world?

Do you not understand the hope

that I watch each day unfurl with?

I am a bunny

tiny and cute

fierce and determined

ready to embrace

the differences that life will share.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 9/17

Slothism

Picture courtesy of CITPrincess.deviantart.com (Found on Internet)
Sloth is one of the seven capital sins. It is the most difficult sin to define, and to credit as sin, since it refers to a peculiar jumble of notions, dating from antiquity and including mental, spiritual, pathological, and physical states.
Yes, I looked it up because I wanted to make sure that I was using it in the correct context. I am a sinner. I once practiced the sin of sloth. A sin so insidious that you do not even know that you are a practitioner.
I once used my days off and weekends to lounge around. Doing nothing more strenuous than a load of laundry because I needed clean clothing. I also used those days to recover from a hangover or malaise of spirit that was brought on by my drinking. It is not that I did not do what was required because I did, I just would not make a further effort. I existed, I was not living.
****I think I should insert here that while some of this is serious, some of this, such as my calling myself a sinner and mocking myself is done in sarcastic humor. It is how the voice in my head talks as I write. 
You might be thinking that this was only during the time of my depressive episode which lead to me going back on my medication. And yes, the malaise was lifted, but not the drinking. I was still hiding and in doing so, was continuing to harm myself. So while I was moving forward, the energy, the desire to do more was slow in coming. In July I decided to quit drinking because of, well, I have issues. I did have a couple during birthday celebration and on holidays.
I also discovered in mid-September that I have a fatty liver, which has been brought about by my drinking. It has also lead to my hoarding of iron in my body. I made another decision once I found this out. I am going to take a year off from drinking and see where my liver situation is and also because, well that is another part of this story.
In July when I decided to quit drinking, I discovered a few things. I could still write. That had been a huge fear. Another of them. The first had been could I still write without the emotional and painful upheaval that my depression and anxiety brought along with a burst of  creativity.  I could.  Next was without alcohol.  Would my imagination, my ability to create still be there?  And again, it was.
Next I discovered that I had a great deal of excess energy. I was always on the go. And I felt great. I spent a lot of time laughing and talking with coworkers and friends. For awhile I was concerned I was on a false high in the cycle of my depression, but as each week passed I realized it was that I felt clearer. My mind was working better. My memory was better. Everything and anything was providing me with inspiration to write.
And I began and stuck with a workout regime. I make it sound like I am spending hours in the gym, I am not. I have a stationary bike at home that I ride and I spend another half hour on toning exercises of my own design. Part of the exercising to begin with, was to help lower my blood pressure. Yet as I began to see results, as I began to feel even more energized and hopeful in every aspect of my life, I was struck by how different I am from even three months ago.
My girlfriends believe that I am possessed by some evil spirit. Since I have quit drinking my sleep patterns have changed. I am no longer staying up until 1 a.m. drinking my dreams and desires away. I now go to bed between 8 and 9 p.m. and I am up between 4:30-5:30 a.m. on my days off and late starts. Let me be very honest here, I am not getting up at 3 a.m. on the days I work at 5:30 or 6 a.m. to work out, I can do that when I get home.
I realized as I was cycling away this morning that I really like this new me. I enjoy getting up early and getting everything I need to do done early. Than I have my day to write, to read, to chat with my friends. I can put my feet up and sip my coffee playing games on Facebook or checking my emails. And I can do it without feeling any guilt.
This is a huge thing for me. Alcohol has been a very large part of my life. In the last few years it was how I coped with my problems. With my fears.  It lead to me making some dubious decisions. Alcohol also made me feel less. Less of myself. Less creative. A crutch and a parasite on my being.
It has been two weeks since I made this decision. Two weeks where I have not had a glass of wine. But the thought has crossed my mind. Eventually each week is going to pass and I will think of it less and less. I will continue to catalogue the good that has come out of this decision to quit.
1)So much energy that sometimes it is hard for me to stand still.
2)A desire to eat healthily.
3)A desire to exercise. Both for health and because omg I actually enjoy it.
4)Inspiration is everywhere.
5)I am more present. I do not look at the clock and count how long it will be until I can have that first sip of wine. Rum. Whatever it was going to be.
6)Creativity that pours from my fingers.
7)I like me. The every part of me. From my brain down to my toes there is no longer a malaise of spirit.
8)I can forgive. I no longer hang onto bitterness and past mistakes. They ate at my soul and that is not who I want to be.
9)I have realized I am not perfect nor do I need to be. I am better for all my little quirks and folliables.
10)There really is no ten but the list would look a little off without a 10th thing.
As I reread this I realize most of you are lost by now. Wondering what the hell my decision to quit drinking has to do with slothism. And you have every right to. This became one of my rambling conversations where a lot of things have been storing up and I finally figured out how to write them. I apologize.
My slothism took the guise of alcohol. It numbed me. Helped me to rationalize why I was the way I was. How I continued to feel the same despite having tackled my depression head on. It allowed me to be. It helped to shadow the woman I am. The woman I have always wanted to be.
I needed to be slothful. I needed to sin per se so I could repent (tongue in cheek) with a lifestyle change. I am not a religious person so this is my stab at humor. Snort or shake your head in despair I admit it is bad.
I am now the opposite of slothful. I am the friend who gets up early by choice while everyone else is still asleep. Not sure what the proper term for it is. My friends all tell me it makes me crazy. But they still love me. 🙂