Changing Shape

I think the hardest part about changing my habits, especially my internal, mental habits, is the effect on the relationships with the people closest to me. While I know they love and support me, they are so used to my old ways of responding to the world that they don’t know how to handle my new responses. Their reactions can make me feel like they’d rather I just return to my old self. My new shape is uncomfortable for them.

I get it, especially when I am in a messy place of not having any clue what I am doing. Living in a new way is way more difficult and confusing than advertised. It’s not enough to get rid of bad habits and negative thoughts. They need to be replaced with something better. In my experience, that takes a lot of trial-and-error, intentional decisions, and many, many mistakes. It’s miserable at times and the reason Real Change takes years of work.

If you’ve read any of my previous entries, you already know that the past 2+ months have been emotionally tumultuous. I 100% understand that my moodiness is challenging to be around. Amplifying this, I work with teens who are easily triggered. This requires me to maintain a stoic and positive demeanor in front of them. While I can definitely express frustration over certain situations, an air of peaceful neutrality in necessary. As a result, when I get home, my temper is feistier than usual until I have a moment to release the restrained emotion.

So, since the end of September, I’ve been dealing with some hugely emotional circumstances in my personal life, while managing the stressful learning curve of my new job. In all honesty, while things have been rough, I think I’m doing pretty well. At least, I can see how I’ve grown. Even though I have periods of intense anxiety, I’m able to navigate my way to the calm place. I don’t feel ashamed of setbacks at work, and it doesn’t take me too long to reset after I get home.

However, all of this is being done in front of the audience of my family. They’ve noticed that I’ve been moody, but they don’t have a frame of reference to know that this is better. They never personally witnessed the angsty, temperamental stress-ball that arrived home from SLPS all those years. I’m a hot mess, yes, but I’m more like a compost heap than an exploded pressure cooker. Good things are happening and there’s potential for more.

I’ve tried talking to my parents about what’s going on, but they don’t seem to want to know. At least, they don’t want to know the real stuff. Griping about a bureaucratic coworker is one thing, but attempting to talk about how I’m facing a crossroads central to my identity? Nope. Every time I’ve alluded to my deeper concerns and bigger triumphs, the subject gets changed.

I’m not sure why they don’t want to hear what’s going on, but I do know they’ve been worried about me. Among other things, they returned to fretting over my food allergies and what I can eat. Over a year ago, we had a frank conversation about how I can handle my allergies. They are my responsibility and I will ask if I need help. I don’t need outside intervention. I reminded them that my least favorite part about my restrictions is being put in the position of having to repeatedly reassure others that I’m fine. This includes dining companions apologizing over my limited choices or people sharing stories that begin, “I know you can’t eat this, but…”

I suspect they returned to this old concern because, in their minds, it’s a safer topic. A safer way to show they care. I’ve talked to them about it and they’ve backed off, but it really hurts my feelings that they’d prefer to focus on a non-issue instead of learning about what’s actually important to me.

I’m also hurt because I’ve talked with them at length about my struggles with feeling disregarded. Not by them specifically, but in other circumstances. I’ve been open about stepping away from people who refuse to hear me. I would’ve hoped that they’d understand, especially in light of my private nature, that if I bring up a more personal topic, I want to be taken seriously.

Right now, things are not good. It’s Sunday and I haven’t seen either of my parents since Thursday afternoon. I was venting about something admittedly minor that touched on some bigger frustrations. My dad was completely unsympathetic. Basically, he condemned me for having the same kind of temper that he has. I’m sure I sounded annoyingly petty and childish in my rant, but his words to me completely crossed the line. I’d already been feeling like he just wants me to be cheerful and pleasant, and this just confirmed it.

My mom wasn’t involved but I don’t want to talk to either of them. I’d been working up the fortitude to address the smaller slights, but this is too much right now. I feel hypocritical because I keep advocating for conversation and addressing conflict. At the same time, I am tired of being put in the position of trying to get people to listen to me. And, in this case, I can’t address what happened Thursday without going over all the backstory they avoided learning about over the past several weeks.

I don’t know what I am going to do.

The past two weeks were a roller coaster.

A naive part of me expected the decision to choose calm would mean I would feel calm in all situations. This is not the case. Despite choosing calm, I have not felt calm much of the time.

I am generally resilient and able to go with the flow. My semi-detached attitude has served me well in this respect. However, as I’m being more intentional about investing in my desired outcomes, the negative thoughts have been increasingly noisy. I started to feel panicked that I was yet again being a fool for even think about wanting things. It got to the point early last week I about had a meltdown in Walmart because the very kind associate was unable to replace my watch battery. A simple errand and I can’t even get that?!

I’m learning – again – that decisions like this are ongoing. They are made every day, every moment. While on my long run yesterday (the last before the race in two weeks!) I realized that choosing calm is less about remaining chill and more about facing what makes me anxious.

An example of this is that I worried a lot last week about some messages I’d sent a friend. I knew they had all kinds of life happening and did not expect a response. At the same time, in the silence, I started wondered if I’d over-stepped my bounds. I feared would be seen as pestering instead of encouraging; burdensome instead helpful. I was also concerned that I was making unnecessary allowances and minimizing myself again.

So, after my run, I sent a short note clarifying my intent. I felt better. They’re still working through their stuff, but they have a little better understanding of my style of support. And I have a better idea of how to show them encouragement.

This is something I’m want to do more of: intentionally act upon the thing that is troubling me. I find that most of my problems are me worrying about something I try to rationalize as no big deal. Well, it must be some kind of deal or I wouldn’t be thinking about it so much.

Sometimes the troublesome thing is subtle. Talking again about the race, this whole time I’ve been thinking about needing to run it, while allowing myself to walk as much as I need. Another long-run revelation was that this is setting me up for disappointment. While I would love to run the whole thing, that isn’t feasible. The reality is that although I can run for quite awhile, it also leaves me vulnerable to more neuro issues and other symptoms. I will reach a point where I can’t run any more and will just have to walk.

However, I can walk quite briskly for long periods of time with almost no problems. I can drink water without stomach issues and don’t experience double vision. Why this is the case is beyond me. My fast walk isn’t much slower than my slow jog, but there you go.

So, I’ve decided to approach this race as a fast-paced hike where any amount of running is a bonus. This way, I’m less likely to cause my body to glitch out. It’ll be more enjoyable and more relaxed.

I feeling calm and confident tonight. I know anxious times will be in my future. Here's to choosing well!

 I am in a writing mood but don’t know what to say. This is a time of waiting, which often means there’s not a lot to report. Yet, things are Happening. Changing. Developing.

I still feel calm. Not 100% of the time, but remarkably so. Often these in-between times are a source of anxiety, my head filled with circular thoughts that will not stop. Something is different this time. Despite being fully aware that things may not go the way I would like, I don’t feel flustered by those possibilities. I am where I should be. This is a new feeling and I like it.

I am choosing the calm.

The calmness is carrying over into my thoughts about the race, now 25 days away. I am woefully under trained and that’s okay. I’m doing what I can and I believe I’ll enjoy the experience. I’m already enjoying just running to run. I didn’t realize how much the shame I was experiencing for not being as healthy as my pre-seizure self until I started leaving those thoughts behind. It will be good to let go of that completely.

I am choosing the calm.

My new job is, well, new, and I’m starting to get a handle on what I need to do. As to be expected, the bureaucracy is a bit much. My fellow teachers are great, but some members of the support staff are misreading quieter style and thinking I need help when I don’t. A lot of this is intensely frustrating and needs to stop. At the same time, it’s nice to see how much more confident I am as a teacher than in years past. I am able to keep my cool and not lose sleep. Things are improving. Mostly.

I am choosing the calm.

​ I felt calm around you. I felt many other things as well, but calm...calm stands out. It was grounding, giving everything else more substance. Excitement without getting ahead of myself. Sadness without despairing. Comforted without worrying I’m being burdensome. Concern without fretting. Around you, I felt naturally present in the moment in a way unfamiliar to me.

I’ve felt many things since you told me your news. You’ve chosen yourself for all the right reasons, and my respect for you has multiplied. You’ve chosen to face what’s in front of you, and, cheesy as it sounds, I feel proud.

Looking at you, I feel nothing but supportive.

Looking at myself...*sigh*...

I have a long history of people taking me for granted. It’s honestly something I don’t like to think about. Yes, I’ve gotten to a point where I can talk openly about the deeply rooted insecurity that I’m not worth remembering. But taking a collective look at the stories that gave that root life? No, thank you.

Those stories are the reason I feel anxious and distrustful of people’s motives. They’re the reason I keep a distance. They're the reason certain situations make me cringe so hard with shame. They’re reason that, the day after we talked, I was ugly crying in my car, nearly panicked.

It was happening again. Another person I liked and cared about was moving on and leaving me behind. I’d fulfilled my role.

Yet that’s not what happened. In those other stories – the stories I don’t look at but they shape life my all same – in those, the other parties never saw me. Not really. You saw me, though. You considered me as you faced yourself and started taking the necessary steps. You didn’t avoid me. You didn’t lie, deflect, or make excuses. You were honest.

I don’t know what is next, but I do know I want a new narrative. Yes, these things happened to me. Yes, they are painful to recall. Yes, there are risks. It is time. I know it is time because once I decided to tell these stories as they are, the panic subsided. I want to tell you my stories. I want to hear yours.

I feel calm about you. That’s worth paying attention to.

I have not been training well for the 50k. Between the heat and starting a new job, it’s been hard to maintain a schedule. Not to mention that I just get tired. A good workout sometimes means I can’t do much else the rest of the day. Alternatively, a busy day at work can leave me too glitchy to feel safe working out. Any routine has to allow room for my symptoms.

It’s not all bad, though. I can run 10 miles reliably enough, and I’m having less trouble with reflux. Also, a change in medication has improved my symptom management. Yes, they still show up (Saturday I cut my run short because of double-vision) but, I’ve really been testing the limits lately. I’m actually impressed with how little they’ve interfered.

I want to do these next few weeks well. On a practical level, I want to plan better lunches so that I can do a simple workout when I get home. Needing a snack slows my momentum and I end up just lounging until I go to bed. I don’t need to do anything fancy, but I want to do something daily. Friday or Saturday can be my long day.

I want this experience to improve my relationship with my body. Not so much in an “overcoming limitations” kind of way, but more in accepting what I can and cannot do. I want to be comfortably present within my body. I want to move on from the disappointment I’ve been feeling since I got sick. I’m not sure how this race will help with this, but it appears to be the way forward.

I have no expectations of awesomeness. I hope to finish in under 8 hours, but under 10 will be great if reflux and other issues make an appearance. Finishing is the goal, and I know I can do that.

I love running and will keep running, but I haven’t enjoyed the pressure of the looming deadline. I’m glad I’m doing this but I’ve learned I want a more relaxed relationship with running.

Truthfully, what I really want is a more relaxed relationship with myself.