Watch Your Language

Hey! Where the fuck have I been??

Oh… Doesn’t my title say “watch your language?”

Well, that’s not quite what I mean, though, it can’t hurt to clean it up a smidge.

So how have you all been? Me? I’m fairly decent and on the cusp of insanely awesome.

I’ve been doing a lot of inner work, and I’ve come to share some thoughts on that.

Wow… I really should have considered getting up from my yoga practice about 10 minutes ago and coming right in here to sit down and record all the brilliant ideas that I had regarding what I was going to say. Alas, I did not, so let’s just “alphabet soup” our way along and see what happens.

I have tried a great many things the past 15 years to recreate myself into … well … my self. My true self. The spirit within.

One thing I’ve found in the “wellness” community is that everyone wants you to subscribe to their way of learning, healing, and growing. Why? Because they will get money (probably lots of it) for whatever it is that they’re selling.

Look, I get it. Your “thing” may have helped you greatly, and you may want to share that with the whole entire universe, and we all have bills to pay. Another sad reality is that people don’t generally trust what they don’t have to pay for in some capacity or other. Generally, though, the end result of all that is that a lot of people may be helped, but the reality is that they may only be helped for a little while. The problem starts all over again, and what do the modality sellers do? They start with the infernal babble:

“you aren’t doing it enough.”

“you aren’t doing it correctly.”

“here… buy more sessions, buy this other book, come to this ridiculously expensive weekend event“

And thost things may all help again. For a while. Until it doesn’t and you’re left again feeling like a failure because we are all comparing our real-life experiences to the highlight reels portrayed in infomercials, advertisements and, let’s be honest, social media.

A couple things about all this:

1. Self improvement, growth, wisdom, and change are very much like a 12 step program. My alcoholic ex taught me all about AA and how important it is to “work your program.” What does this mean? It means that, once you see the need to change, once you accept that this has to happen, you show up each and every day, and you follow through. Once we initiate, we no longer have the luxury of saying “I don’t feel like it.” We get up, we go, and we do. 100% of the time, we fail because we falter.
2. One modality of change may work to jump start you. It may not work for you every day for the rest of your entire life. Over the course of our lifetimes, we are many different kinds of beings, and, unless you’re dead (figuratively or literally), you rarely wake up the same person twice. What does this mean? You have to be open to learning and growing in more than one way. Don’t be afraid to revisit something you may have previously discarded as “bullshit.” When Oprah made Eckhart Tolle famous, I ran right out and bought a copy of “A New Earth.” I read the first couple of chapters and promptly threw it in a bookshelf and dismissed it as garbage. Years later, the aforementioned ex pulled it off my shelf and was reading it. I asked about it, and he told me that he learned about Eckhart a while back and loved his wisdom. We then had this conversation about becoming the observer of our thoughts. I tried it, and it made me incredibly uncomfortable, so I chucked it in the bucket again. Finally, after diving into Hermetic philosophy, I read something about ego that reminded me of the part of “A New Earth” that I did enjoy. Instead of running straight back to that book, I opted for “The Power of Now,” and it’s amazing the paradigm shift I experienced. Why? Because I was ready to hear it, and I was ready to accept the ways it applied to me.
3. Focus on what words work for you. For example… I hate guided meditations where people tell me to “picture” something. I can never see the moonlit, primrose lined pathway they want me to walk along. I can never smell the lilacs they insist are present. I can, however, feel. I can feel that cool air on my face, or I can feel myself walking into that vast, warm ocean. Work with what resonates, and don’t beat yourself up for not being able to connect with what doesn’t resonate with you. You don’t have to be ashamed or feel like a loser because you’re not a visual person. You may be a sensory person. Maybe you are better with hearing. And since most of this paragraph has to do with meditating, let me just add… like most other things in life, meditation is a skill that must be practiced and built. No one out there has a mind-blowing, wonderful experience each and every time they sit down to meditate. If someone tells you they do, they are posturing.
4. If you can only embrace one thing today, embrace this: your journey is your journey. Stop comparing yourself to the highlight reels.

At the end of the day, everything I have tried has helped me to get to the next stage. Now that I know there’s no one correct way to do this life thing, I am finally starting to believe that there is no stopping me. As long as I watch my lauguage (work with what resonates), and as long as I work my program.

Self Care for the Incredibly Lazy

Howdy, peeps!

When last we spoke, I spoke of setting the bar a little higher than shitting on the toilet instead of on the floor. I am happy to report that, since then, I have not shit on the floor. Nope. Not even once.

I really should have been back before now to talk more about this, but… well… I haven’t been. Mostly because I have a mile wide lazy streak running through my soul. I’m trying to work on this, and some days are better than others. Let me fill you in on my bare minimum list of essential to-do items that do help. Maybe some of it will inspire you.

1. Change your underwear. Even if you don’t shower. Bacteria accumulates in your panties, and a nice fresh pair will help keep the stench down. Also? It just feels nice.
2. By that same token, put on a fresh pair of pants. Whatever hits your panties will, nine out of ten times, make it to your pants. Or… hell… if you’re in for the day, pants aren’t even required.
3. Put on some deodorant. I promise you that lack of stench helps.
4. Brush your teeth. If you can only manage one item on this list, make it this one. Trust and believe you will feel worse when you see the damage caused by not taking care of your chompers.
5. Brush your hair.
6. Try to get yourself a little fresh air and sunshine.
7. Do not, under any circumstances, shit on the floor.

Once these items are accomplished, one of two things will happen. You will either be carried by the momentum they generate and you will engage in other productive activities or, alternatively, you still won’t feel it. In that case, provided you don’t have to go to work, park your ass on the couch and do something to grow your mind. Read a book or watch a documentary.

Hey, regardless of what our friends say, it’s helpful to know about serial killers.

My though process is that learning something new or adding to something you already know is productive.

Also, try to avoid social media. Social media only makes people in a certain frame of mind feel bad about themselves or angry at people they normally enjoy. Why do that to yourself? You deserve better.

Oh, and, hey, remember to congratulate yourself because you did some of the things, and you have the added bonus of not having shit on the floor.

stahp that…

Wow… I haven’t been here in a while. The “write” option looks kind of different. I’m not sure I enjoy it. How am I going to know where/when/how to do stuff? AND WHERE ARE MY OPTIONS TO ADD PICTURES???

Anyhow, I’ve been thinking a lot, here lately, about human nature. I’ve been thinking about this need we all seem to have to placate others, and we seem to want to do so with as little effort expended as possible. Me? I think we should be doing better.

Last weekend, my friend came over, and we drank a lovely magic mushroom tea. After all the intense “visions” phase passed, we sat in my living room, he, in my chair, I, on my couch, and we had the deepest conversations about life and humanity that I have ever had. We talked about personal accountability and how no one ever knows what that means on its most genuine level.

I feel that the act of placation does more harm than good. This need we have to band-aid the thoughts/feelings/experiences of others does nothing to help them serve their greater good. This whole “look at it another way” mentality is a real disservice to our communities as a whole. It really does nothing to contribute to the growth and evolution of the human spirit.

Our roles, as human beings, are to learn how to successfully navigate humanity, and if we’re constantly buying into the notion that we are heroic simply because we managed to shit in the toilet instead of on the floor, how are we growing? There has been indoor plumbing for years, and I think we need to set the bar a little higher.

Absolutely, the topic of mental health comes into play. I don’t like to ignore that fact because I struggle with depression myself, and I can’t even imagine having to deal with something worse than that. Life is a whole lot more complicated than the need for humanity to have a paradigm shift. It absolutely is. That’s why I believe in reincarnation. I absolutely do not believe that there is one soul that is not capable of “getting there,” wherever “there” may be. If you can’t/don’t get it this time around, maybe next time will go better for you.

I don’t say any of this from a throne of ultimate wisdom. I say it as one of you, no, I say it as one of us. I say it as someone who, some days, can barely get out of bed. Some days, I have to remind myself to remember to breathe. Some days, I can take on the world, too, though. Some days, I have the whole goddamn universe in my pocket. It’s important to remember that and not only talk about the things that bring you down.

So think about this for a while and get back to me. I’ll be back to talk more with you.

For Money

Week 2 of the Daily Om writing course involves work.

For money, I am an insurance follow up representative in the billing department of a very large, world-renowned hospital system. That should make me proud. In actuality, it does not. To be perfectly frank, I have never worked in such a … well … toxic environment, and that really says something.

See, I started this job after the pandemic introduced itself to the world, so I’ve been working from home since day one. I’ve never experienced their “in office” environment, but if it’s anything like the “at home” environment… let’s just say I’m going to have to actively pursue other avenues.

Most of my adult life was spent in the medical billing field. I gained all of my experience from a good company that cared both about their patients and about the people who run their processes and make things happen… you know, the workers. Every day I worked there, I felt valued, appreciated, and like what I had to say mattered. Where I’m at now? I have none of these things. In fact, it’s not a matter of simply not having them. Personally, I’d call it less than zero. In my world, that is a possibility.

Life tends to sling shit around, so, for the sake of practicality and for the sake of my sanity, I had to leave the job. I walked away from a great paycheck, excellent benefits, people I loved being around, and feeling cared about. Sure, I was a cog in the machine, but I was well-oiled and tended to. Any accumulated grease and grime were of my own doing, and they had a lot more to do with me and my own personal issues than they had to do with what I did to make money.

When I left that job, I took some time off to see if I could figure out what I truly wanted to do. I ended up working technical support for a huge company. I spent exactly one year of my life walking retail workers through the process of restarting their cash registers. For a lot of reasons, it simply wasn’t my thing. See… in the medical field, sure I was billing outrageous sums to people who may or may not be able to pay, but in the daily battle with insurance companies and with the “powers that be,” I, more often than not, was left feeling like I was genuinely able to help others, so I decided to go back to that.

Currently, I’m left wondering if that was the grandest idea I’ve ever had. Not because the specifics of the job don’t resonate with me, but because of where I am.

People and their attitudes about other people and life, in general, matter. You’re never going to have a good and easy time in life when you encourage adversarial relationships with people and entities who can make your lives easier or more difficult depending on your approach.

There are a lot of avenues to this “work” topic I’d like to explore, so there will probably be several posts for it. For now, I’m tired of writing and am struggling for words. This is the last day of my long weekend, and I don’t want to spend it bemoaning what I’ve lost and dreading what I get to go back to tomorrow.

Have a great Sunday!

Stick A Fork In Me

I knew today would be fun. When I say “fun,” mind you, I mean the 180 degree opposite of the textbook definition of “fun.”

Now that we have that clear…

I’m tired.

I’m cranky.

I’m a bit lonely.

I’m tired of being broke all the time.

I’m tired of the people who will say “me too” to that last one but still have the ability to make changes in their lives.

I’m tired of staying home all the time, yet there isn’t any place I want to go.

Winter always gets to me.

I’m constantly cold.

There’s this “thing” in my head that I can’t quite put my finger on, but it is the source of my displeasure and discontent. I don’t know how to figure out what it is, turn it around, and make it work for me instead of against me.

I don’t even have a clear thought for this blog? How’s that?

ch-ch-ch-changes…

I’m reminded of lyrics from one of my favorite songs:

“I’m not quite what I thought I was, but, then again, I may have been more…”

Almost a year ago, each and every aspect of my life not only changed, but changed dramatically. There is not one part of me that wasn’t completely and totally upheaved, rearranged, and left in a big heaping mess.

Some of this was my own doing.

Like my former job.

I had been struggling in that position for some time, and I simply couldn’t do it anymore. Once upon a time, when I did that job, I was able to feel like I was genuinely helping people. Policy changes took that feeling away from me and, subsequently, sucked the joy out of the job for me. It got to the point where I had a fucking FMLA case on file for the anxiety attacks I would have in the middle of the day while I was working. Part of me feels infinitely grateful that this was available to me, but, at the end of the day, I really had to stop and ask myself “should I need FMLA time and drugs in order to be able to cope with my job?” That answer simply had to be a resounding “no.”

So, I left a job I had for the better part of my adult life. I left good benefits, a lot of paid vacation time, great wages, and, more importantly, people I adored. I left for my sanity. That had to be more important.

Some of this was a joint effort.

My long term relationship ended. I don’t want to say too much about that because there are people out there who do not deserve to have this information. All it’s really necessary to say is that this devastated me for many reasons.

Never before had I been forced to walk away while I still was very much in love with someone.

Addiction is a bitch, and that bitch certainly took her toll. In an effort to try not to be an enabler, I stepped back. I thought I was doing that new-agey thing and “holding space” for my love (some of you know what that means. For those who don’t, Google is your friend). I thought I was loving without condition. I thought I was being there without being a nag, preachy, or domineering.

You can say “I’m here for you,” until you’re blue in the face, and none of it means anything if no asking is going on.

All of this was met with accusations of neglect and not caring.

Well… it’s done. Nothing I can do about it now but learn, grow, and move on.

I’m not talking about the parts that piss me off the absolute most about all of this. If you simply HAVE to know, ask. If I feel like talking about it, I’ll tell you. If I tell you as kindly as I can that it isn’t any of your business, try not to let that get you down.

So… Some of these things, I’ve handled pretty goddamn well if I do say so myself. It’s only a year later, and I feel like I can cope, and I feel like I can do better and BE better.

During this process, though, did any of you know I legitimately had a nervous breakdown? No? Well, that’s good. That’s kind of between me and my doctor, but you know, this normal reaction to everygoddamnthing about my life being thrown in a blender, tossed all around, and left in a fucking dirty, nasty heap for me to sort, rearrange, and clean up all on my own (I’m talking about my own, personal, internal and figurative mess) has cost me some relationships I used to value.

I’m sure I’ve let some people down. I’m sure this particular snapshot they’ve gotten to see of me and my life leads them to think I’m not what they thought I was. Well, guess what? This has led me to see that they aren’t what I thought they were, either. There are some “hey kettle” conversations looming that are far overdue.

Diminished in one another’s eyes is okay, but now it’s time to move on, and it’s also of value to recall, at pertinent times, who kicked me when I was down. Not in a grudge kind of way, but in that healthy way of knowing with whom I can and can not extend myself in any kind of meaningful way.

Yes, life has brought me a lot of changes this year. I’m not at the point, yet, where I’m thankful for any of the upheaval, but I’m getting there. Every day, I feel it.

Whether or not you see it, well, that’s on you.

All of the Blah

Well, I’ve officially been detoxified from Effexor for about a month now.

I know I promised updates regularly about this, but… well… I didn’t do that. I guess I didn’t feel like I had a whole lot to say.

Life feels a whole lot more clear now. Some days, this is good; other days, not so much. The thing is… I am coping. I am coping far better than I have any right to, and I am happy about that. I didn’t do this expecting sunshine and roses, so I am not let down.

I can genuinely laugh again.
I can cry.
I can be angry.
I can be happy.

Best of all? I can choose what to do about all of those things.

Quarantine has presented her own unique set of challenges.

I feel angry that I was just getting back into regular exercise at a yoga studio, and now the studio has closed under Ohio’s quarantine regulations.

Now, I could do yoga in my own house, and I have, but the problem is that I don’t yet have suitable space available for this. Doing yoga on my kitchen floor was not very… yoga-fying, to say the least. I mean, I suppose it shouldn’t matter, but…

Working from home… what to say about that?

I mean, don’t get me wrong… I’m incredibly grateful to have a paycheck coming in. You know what? I’m going to leave it there, for now. I’m still working, I get to do so from home, which means insurance is still available to me, and I am lucky because of that.

Social media is on my last nerve. I’m tired of keyboard experts, fear mongering, and division. This whole spirit of “if you do/don’t do this/that, then I hate you/don’t want you in my life/think you’re a horrible person” makes me really really fucking sick. It’s seriously worse than when Captain Cheeto was installed as Grand Poobah of the USA.

I’m tired of being the Rodney King of my circle. “can’t we all just get along?” Apparently not. Not when everyone is right.

State of The Dissy

I’m finding it difficult to share these days. I seem to have fallen back into the headspace of, “no one gives a shit.” It’s not really in a “bad” way, though. It’s more like something I can’t quite describe.

I’m down to 1 twenty-five mg tablet of Effexor per day. I quit taking the Clonidine with it, as it was making me tired.

All in all, I’m feeling like a reasonably competent human being. Every day isn’t perfect, but I feel like I can successfully navigate through what comes my way.

At first, I thought I may want to stop drinking during my weaning off period. I felt, a couple weeks ago, like I was getting a little irrationally angry, but I’m thinking that may have been more PMS related than anything else. I had my once-a-week vodka drink last night, and I was just fine.

Without the Clonidine, the feelings of vertigo are a little more frequent, but they’re nothing that isn’t manageable.

I’m still seeing the shrink. I’m trying to decide if she feels too basic for me or if I’m just looking for an excuse to not engage. I’ve been known to do that from time to time (meaning, every other damn time I’ve spent any time with a mental health professional).

She is heavily encouraging me to look for a new job. The one I currently have is not contributing anything meaningful to my life, and, in fact, it makes me pretty irritated every time I’m here. It’s also made worse by the fact that I can’t exactly cover my bills and enjoy my life on my current salary. I guess we will see what we will see. She seems to have a lot of faith in my intelligence and my ability to do better for myself. Me? I’m fraught with impostor syndrome.

My sista and I have been hitting up a yoga class twice per week. We’ve been doing a yin yoga class and a vinyasa flow class. I’ve done yin before, and I suppose this class is ok. Personally, I think, in order to get the desired result, longer than an hour is needed. But, it’s something fun to do with Barb. Maybe, one day, we can do some work with the dvds I have. You know, after I have space in my house.

So, that’s about all that’s new in my world.

At Least the Stormtroopers Aren’t Coming to Get Me… yet.

Once, a long time ago, I told one of my “doctors” that Prozac was not helping me. For some reason, he decided to try me on some hard core crap. I can’t even remember the name of it, but that medication taught me all about side-effects. I guess some folks out there may have found them amusing. Me? not so much.

One evening, probably about 30 minutes after taking my medication, I left work. After stopping at the local shopping center (shit, are they even called that anymore?), I went about my drive home. I drove under a bridge and came to a stop at a traffic light. As I waited to turn left onto the expressway, I looked into my rear-view mirror.

I shit you not…

I saw a fucking Stormtrooper walking toward me, all business-like with his gun drawn. I mean, not that he’d have hit me or anything… But still… fuh-reeeeeeaky.

This is not The Dissy you are looking for.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shook my head, and looked again. As luck would have it, it was just a dude on a white crotch-rocket wearing a white jacket and a white helmet.

Fast forward to current times and current events…

When I advised my doctor (different from the doctor mentioned above) that I wanted to discontinue the Effexor, she told me she was going to prescribe something called Clonidine to help with side-effects.

Now, when I am prescribed a medication I’ve never heard of before, I go out of my way to dig up ALL the information I can find about it. You know… because I want to know if my arm hair is going to fall out, or if I’m going to grow some testicles from my belly button.

Luckily, the information only said they may cause some hallucinations.

I kind of thought that was bullshit until the other night.

I keep seeing movement around me. Shadowy figures and images. Usually, it’s just the screen door blowing in the breeze or the clock changing time, but for that minute, there is something in the room with me.

That aside, my mood has been excellent. I’m not going to lie and say I’ve been joyous one hundred percent of the time, but I’ve been able to cope successfully with things like anger, loneliness, sadness, and happiness.

I am, once again, experiencing pure, genuine laughter, and, thanks to a bit of flirtation, I am starting to notice other feelings returning. (“hello, lady parts, how you doin’?)

Everybody Loves Joey.

But… that’s where I am right now. Jumping at shadows and gladly interacting with myself again.

On a Partly Sunny Day

“I’ve always known that the mirror never lies…”

I haven’t checked in for a few days. Part of me feels like I really haven’t had anything new to add. Part of me feels like I’ve dropped the ball.

I had my third visit with the new therapist. I’m sort of feeling like she is throwing basic shit at me. Shit that may not occur to someone who hasn’t made it a life’s pursuit of understanding what’s going on in his or her noggin.

But, we will play the game her way for now.

This week, I’m supposed to observe my inner dialogue and see what kind of themes I come up with. Ummm… derr…

I’m very judgy about some things, mostly toward myself.
I’m surprisingly non-judgy about some things most people judge harshly.
A lot of time I’m singing to myself, mostly songs I made up for my dog.
And I’m not the most forgiving person anyone will ever meet. Particularly toward myself.

Weaning off the Effexor is still going okay. Nothing horrible has happened. I haven’t shanked anyone. I still feel mostly tired. I’ve had challenges to my decision. Things have come up that may push me back into a funk or make me unreasonably angry. I feel like I responded at an appropriate level, and the most fun thing happened.

I realized I didn’t even really give a whole lot of fucks about it.

I’m thinking a lot of good will come of this.

I went to dinner with Tama and Mary last night. They took me out for my birthday. I really miss seeing them both regularly and spending regular time with them. I need to figure out how to correct that.

I have a lot of ideas and plans brewing, and I’m feeling very optimistic about the ways life is shaping up.