A Thousand Deaths

It is time to reflect.
I am feeling sort-of positive.  And somewhat negative...but only about two particular things:

money.
identity.

The positive stuff is great....which is what makes it positive in the first place.  I just got married.  Everything went very well after stressing over the what ifs.  I am attempting to learn a lesson from that.  A overwhelming downfall of mine, a trait that leads to panic attacks, is worry.  I worry about everything.  I am nervous almost constantly.  My stomach is full of butterflies and my heart races a few times a day. Some days are worse.  There are triggers:

not sleeping.
too much caffeine.
lack of money.
lack of time.
too much time.
hangovers.
lack of excersize.
driving in intense traffic.
being on a crowded subway.
being too hungry or thirsty.

So, in a nutshell, if I get a good night sleep and have only a cup and a half of coffee and the mail brings a handy surprise residual check and I have some work to do, but not too much work, and I have enough time to go on a long walk with the dogs after I visit the gym, and I was healthy the night before so I am feeling hydrated and I have fruit and veggies in the fridge that I can nibble on all day guilt-free, and though the work I am doing involves memorizing lines for an awesome job, I do not have to get on the subway that day and my car is parked in a reliable spot....

then I can almost be certain that I will not have a panic attack.

Can you see where I am going with this?

"A coward dies a thousand deaths, a hero only one." -Shakespeare

What was the point in worrying about my wedding for the past hundred days?  It was perfect.  It was better than I had hoped.  I am now happily married, and I feel more solid in my friendships and family.  The check did not bounce and the weather held. 

I am pretty sure I did not get more than 5 hours of sleep each night all summer.

If I just let things happen a little....
Fighting for control is futile when it comes to things like storm clouds.
Worry worry worry.

I could have just been excited for my wedding. 
I WAS excited for my wedding, but I could have been sleeping at night and bright during the day.  I did not need to talk myself into thinking I was seeing double while I imagined smelling burnt toast. I do not need this. That.

I will die a death.  One big old day will end it all.  Time will speed by and stuff will happen to me. It'll be bad.  It will be good.  I cannot keep dying all these little deaths everyday because things are out of my control.

What I can do is try my best to learn the lessons life hands me, and move forward towards a future a little less fearful.

Fearlessly?  That's doubtful. 
But possibly obtainable.

Explaining the Cleanse

I have no will power.  This has always been an issue for me.

I am currently putting myself through a raw food cleanse.  People keep saying "good for you."  Not good for me.  All I want is pizza, and no one who complains this much should be congratulated.

I am doing this because I want to go to Mexico without guilt and with confidence.

Part of me thought that I would get some clarity from eating healthier.  I do have clearer senses.  My sense of smell is much stronger.  The discarded Christmas trees on the curb are perfectly overwhelming. 

But I feel the same amount of crazy.

An ex-boyfriend of mine told me that I should go on anti-depressants.  I laughed.  I am an optimistic, positive, energized person.  I have a love of life and all things living.  One of my favorite things is to go into the world and look at the beauty.  It's free for the taking.

Also, this was coming from an overly self-medicated person who didn't witness daylight on the weekends.  I was not going to hear about my mental health from this particular dime store psychologist. 

Then I read this book.  Okay, full honestly: I read part of this book.  The book was given to me by my current boyfriend and recommended by his lovely ex-girlfriend (I actually mean that truthfully.  She is lovely and I adore her.)  It was supposed to help me with my anxiety issues.

The book did help.  It made me realize that not everyone worries this much or carries around guilt like it's going to redeem any wrongdoing.  It also made me realize that not everyone automatically assumes that they have made an ass of themselves when meeting someone new or talking to a group of people. 

I do that.  I am confessing something here.  I feel ashamed to admit it, like maybe you won't like me anymore. But it is true.  If we are friends, or even if we have just met a few times, I have felt insecure either with you or after being with you.

It haunts me.  I coach myself. 

-I try to think of things another way: "remember when you said that silly thing and everyone  laughed?" 

-And then the rebuttal: "but then you cut off your friend mid-sentence because you were too busy complaining about not being able to eat a whole pizza." 

Its a cycle. 

-Chin-up, Lightning! Ten good things are better than one bad!

-Stop calling yourself "Lightning."  You are the only one who appreciates it.

It's ridiculous.

The book helped.  I thought this was normal.  And I had to give the ex credit.  This cycle of doubt makes me sad. A lot.

Well, I am not on any anti-depressants, and I do feel pretty darn good most of the time.  I have problems feeling overwhelmed.  I have problems with anxiety. I will always have problems with willpower.

I have problems.

My head is full of positive thoughts.  It's pouring over with possibility.  I feel safe right now. The day was beautiful.  I ran through somehow wood-smoked air.  It smelled so good, and I am happy. Life feels good on me.

But I will publish this and the relief of sharing a bit of myself will turn into remorse. I will automatically feel absurdly judged and a little too human. 

Then I will go to Mexico in a week, cleansed physically, so I can feel positive about myself (in that regard.)