Important Account Documents Enclosed.

There is an enormous amount of information at my fingertips. By at my fingertips, I mean contained on my iPhone, which my sister convinced me would be awesome. Also, it was nearly free (if you consider $35 for an Apple product free-ish), so I bought it. Occasionally, I'm glad that I did. Like when I'm running out of money in my bank account and I need to make sure that I'm not going to overdraw when I need to buy cigarettes. But who am I kidding? I'd buy them anyway, and pay the effing $25 fee if it really came down to it. 

Ugh, but I digress. The problem with all of this information is that it can be a number of things at any given time. Things like, upsetting, useful, engaging, inspiring, disturbing, and saddening. There are more. The way my phone operates, it's usually a number of these things allatonce. Bad for the psyche, unless I'm trying to find my way out of the proverbial paper bag. Except that iPhone's navigation blows monkey chunks. Not that I don't feel awful about the people in China working under terrible conditions to get these things to us. I do, SNL, I really do.

Some of this information is important. Like when I need to know about prescription drug interactions. Or when I need to know what time I'm taking my parents to the airport. When I need my mom to tell me, "Everything's going to be o.k." When I need a reminder that my appointment with the therapist takes place this Friday at 10 a.m. Yes, some things are important. But Verizon, you are misled. I decide what's important here, and Account Documents are not one of those things. And National Grid, you hold a higher rank than Verizon, but still, no cigar. End rant. 

I've been feeling emotional for the past couple of days. Just when I thought things couldn't seem more upside down, another thing would arrive--by phone of course--to wreak havoc on my perspective (and my false sense of control). I have also applied for a new job, which is making me incredibly nervous. I've been part-time for almost a year. I've been biding my time, waiting for the right opportunity to pounce on something full-time, and it's here. I'm worried that the increase in hours will do me in. I'm also worried that I won't get it, which under the circumstances, could put me out of even a part-time job. So I'm waiting, like an old lady at BINGO. 

I'm also dropping my mom off at the airport for a two-week vacation, which leaves my alcoholic dad alone with his demons for the same amount of time. Do I worry when this happens? Every fucking year. As for my anxiety, I'm putting it to rest the best I can. Instead, I'm going to feel a whole range of emotions in the healthiest way possible. As opposed to suppressing them because they're not convenient--for me, or anyone else.

just a tiny...

bit of compassion travels a long way. Everyone needs a little, every now and then. 

Life can take some pretty serious downturns when you least expect it. Sometimes it's due to circumstance or bad luck, but more often it's due to a sudden inability to make appropriate choices. Has your vision ever been clouded? Have you ever felt more optimistic about an outcome than you should have, or been too confused or afraid to make the right decision? I have. I could say it's unfortunate, but it's not. It's human. I am human. I should be o.k. with that, but sometimes I'm not. Sometimes I take everything terrible I've ever actually done, then add some terrible things other people tell me I've done, and stew on it. Season it with a little bit of stuff I think I should be doing right now but I'm not, and there it is. A perfect recipe for feeling like a lonely, abandoned, inconsequential human. 

Even right now, just writing this I hear the faint whisper of criticism telling me that I'm not being human the right way, or that I'm once again submitting to the anxiety that keeps me from really connecting with the people I care about. That I'm batshit crazy, and I deserve every bit of terrible luck and heartache that comes my way. I hear it, but I know deep in my gut that none of that is true. A broken person can in fact mend, and that's what I've been doing. 

The truth is, it sucks to be human. You have to feel things, and you're stuck with this innate desire to be searching for the meaning of said things. Sometimes you have to suck up all of your nasty, ugly pride and forgive. Like when someone you love dearly can't wrestle their demons and win. Even when you know they never will. Sometimes instead, you have to carry your guilt like a wet blanket that because you can never be forgiven, never dries.

I'm not sad anymore. I'm still anxious, despite the little pink pills that are supposed to make me less so. A year ago, I didn't want to go out anywhere, nevermind someplace where I'm not comfortable. And I wouldn't have dared to go it alone. I did all of this and more over the holiday weekend, and I'm satisfied with that, if not happy. It's small progress. Or is it? Compared to last year at this time, it's a giant leap. 

Now that I'm doing better on my own, I've been reaching out, looking for friendly faces in a world that seems to have gone mad. I'm finding some, and it's good.

Life is hard, because by nature we want to live it for as long as possible. We don't have to make it harder, but we do.

oh, this old thing.

Dang, I did it again. I put this bloggy thing off for other important things, like cooking dinner, looking for a full-time job, appointments with my chiropractor, etc., etc. 

Now what? Well, Thanksgiving is right around the corner. I'm mostly thankful this year that I'm feeling somewhat better overall (although I still struggle at times). I'm also thankful that I found someone who understands as well as anyone my anxiety "problem", which from here on out I'd like to call the anxiety challenge.

Often enough, the anxiety is a challenge for me, but a problem for the people around me. I admit that I don't like having a great deal of anxiety about nearly everything. However, sometimes I cry solely because I am human. Sometimes my worries are legitimate and should be acknowledged rather than brushed off as anxiety. This is where it becomes problematic for everyone else (and an even bigger challenge for me). They can't tell the difference between my emotions, and the anxiety-induced drama that can from time to time (and time again) rear its ugly head. 

This can be a difficult problem for them, but with a little training, maybe one they can overcome. So I'm going to ask them to look at it as a challenge with me. The worst part of calling it a problem is that it suggests there is a solution. The people around you start offering you all sorts of solutions, some of which don't even make sense. Like taking more vitamins, or trying that new drug they just advertised on TV. Solutions are final. They are usually easy to grasp, like cause and effect. Anxiety comes and goes. Sometimes there's a reason for it, and sometimes there is absolutely no reasonable explanation for it. And anxiety (the "problem") will always exist within me. Sometimes medicine is the answer, sometimes it's not. Sometimes a little bit of therapy goes a long way, and sometimes I need both medicine and therapy. There is no solution. Challenges, on the other hand, can be overcome. The anxiety may always be with me, but I can overcome it. I don't have to own it, or admit it to everyone, or even take responsibility for it (in the sense that I am to blame for it). I only need to be human, and healthy humans, by nature, fight to live. 

As long as we're doing that, I'd say we're o.k., even if we feel mediocre at best. Mediocrity is relative. One wouldn't say that a guy with no legs learning to walk on his hands is mediocre progress. Therefore, a girl with no control over her fight-or-flight response driving on the highway every damn day to get to her part-time job and back is fucking excellent progress.

Even so, I find this, and this guy wildly entertaining these days: