It Works When I Work It

I don’t know if i turned on a dime or if it was advancing on me and i just missed it.
Regardless, i’m not in a good place. I’m managing far better than i would have even a few months ago, but it still sucketh mightily.

I’m picking up on sick thoughts floating around up in my noggin, the kind that are based in my upbringing and old ways of dealing with such. I’m overthinking interactions with others, obsessing over each interchange, and worrying that i’ve said something wrong or stupid. My anxiety is coming at me from a number of places, and by that i mean manifesting physically. One is the yawning pit of worry that opens up behind my breastbone, another is the roiling ball of acid in my stomach, and the third is the band i feel squeezing my ribs, oh yeah – and that damned elephant is sitting on my chest again, demanding my attention.

In a matter of days i’ve been reduced to barely hanging on. Everything is too much. I can’t deal with everything that’s on my plate. I tried bitching about it on my social media, but it didn’t give me much relief. I’ve got to dial things back again. I’m going back to a bare minimum of functionality and seeing what i can reasonably accomplish while dealing with causes and symptoms of my current mental/emotional/physical state.

One source of anxiety that i can eliminate immediately is news/current events. Our province has been hit with a wave of new coronavirus cases, so i began watching the news again, which in turn led me back into some current events and then politics… And that’s getting noped. No more. I keep having to do this, but i’m going to try not to feel bad about it. I care about my family and friends and fellow humans, and i’ve always been a keen and regular consumer of local/national/world news. It’s not bad or dumb to care about these things – i can go back to it when my health is better. Once again i’ll be relying on my husband to tell me only what’s most important.

I need to talk to someone, but i’m not sure who. Normally i go to my husband and my therapist, but neither are currently an option. Hubby is dealing with some issues at work that have him all knotted up with anxiety too, and i don’t want to add to his burdens. Our income is going down, the government slowdown has thrown a wrench in our access to some assets, and we don’t know how screwed our economy is going to be when the smoke clears on this pandemic. My therapy had finally begun to ease in intensity, so i made the decision to put it on hold for a bit, hoping the money we save might provide a bit more cushion. There’s only a couple of people that i could talk to like i need to talk, and they’re dealing with their own piles of crap like the rest of us, so…

I’m blogging. It’s what i’ve got to work with, and it’ll just have to do for now.

Now to the thing that i don’t want to blog about. My health. I’m not well, but i don’t know how not-well, and i’m scared AF to find out. I live with chronic pain due to fibromyalgia, osteopenia, and various offshoots like restless legs, irritable bowels, myofascial pain and bruxism. I’m also going through menopause. I’ve had carpal tunnel since around 2001, but i lost a great deal of weight shortly after i was diagnosed, so that helped and as a result it’s been quite manageable. Until now. And it’s not just that in my hands, now. I don’t know if the fibro is worsening, or i’m developing arthritis, or something else, but my hands have become a daily misery. They’re stiff and painful and barely work for the first few hours of each day, then it eases enough to perform regular tasks, and then the pain returns full force before bed each night. The pain often flows into my forearms too, and i experience random but regular shooting pains, like electric shocks, throughout my body, and throughout the day. Nerve pain? I don’t know. I have a constant headache, but not my usual – it starts in the base of my skull, but rather than a band tightening around my temples, it shoots out almost exclusively on my right side. At times it greys my vision. I’ve pulled a muscle in my back and my ribs feel out on the left side. I’ve strained my neck on the right. Sciatica comes and goes. I experience dumping syndrome every time i eat, no matter what size my portions or what i consume. I’m never not tired. When my blood pressure isn’t too low and causing me to almost pass out every time i stand, my heart’s threatening to burst out of my chest due to anxiety. The fibro pain in my neck and shoulders hasn’t felt this intense since i was first diagnosed, i don’t think.
So yeah, i’m a mess.
I’m seeing my doctor this week.

Some things are crappy, for sure. However, i feel different. This situation seems different. I’ve been pondering what for some time now, and i think it’s me. I mean, in this blog where i am my own psychoanalyst that’s usually the answer. I’m actively working on self-awareness and healing, and i welcome change – it’s challenging and scary, but it’s good.
But still, that’s not quite it. This is different. I am different.

There’s a steadiness inside me that i’ve not had before. I’ve been babystepping for nearly 15yrs now, working towards a time when life happening no longer has the power to lay me low with the most mundane and regular of things. Fewer triggers, better function.
I should be a half step away from commitment. If all this had come a couple or 3yrs ago i think the chances are fair i’d be in care right now.
But i’m coping reasonably well, all things considered.
I could list everything currently on my plate, but i won’t, and i won’t because i know it’s not a good idea. I know it would drag me down. If you’re a regular reader you already know, and if you’re new, you probably get the gist. And you can guess if you don’t. We all have stuff. I have some physical and some mental stuff. I have the past, the right now, and wth-is-next.
Same as most of us.

I’m here, though. I’m in the face and present in most moments. I’ve switched a couple of times, but for mere hours, in total. I’m here for all of it. It’s stressful and i’m always tired and in physical pain. Yet i am not at the end of my rope. I see that, earlier in this piece i characterised myself as barely hanging on. That’s not so. I think part of the reason i feel so strange and unsettled is because i am NOT barely hanging on. I’ve got the rope grasped firmly and my feet are finding purchase rather surely.
Yes, i’m still dealing with a significant level of anxiety, but it is in keeping with current circumstances – it isn’t wildly out of scale. I’m not catastrophising. I’m not flailing. I’m staying the course and charting my path as the weather allows.

Well, i feel better. I’m in a better place than i thought.
I guess blogging works, when i work it.
I’ll try it again tomorrow.

Love and Peace,
~H~

IMAGE: Laura Nyhuis