I haven’t posted in a long time. It’s been an eventful couple of months, but, fortunately, recent weeks have not filled with the emotional dilemmas that characterize many of my posts. I am enjoying taking things as they come and being present with what is in front of me. There are many stories I could tell. I’m going to begin with the night when things officially shifted for the better.
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I apologize in advance for the vagueness. Much of this story involves the stories of other people, and their stories are not mine to tell.


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The Story

Most Tuesdays, I join up with a group for pub trivia. The team is coordinated by someone I respect a great deal. I like his sarcastic sense of humor and watching the way he takes care of and encourages his people. I find him to be a relaxing presence.

Most of the time.

The Tuesday after my December hospital stay, this was not the case. There was an awkward tension I did not understand. Knowing my emotions were already convoluted, I decided not to address anything that night. It was the right choice. At the same time, it did nothing to help my mood and definitely contributed to my heavy state of mind while writing my previous post.

A few days lately, the tension was resolved when he initiated a conversation to clear the air. I was relieved and understanding his experience was an important step in getting out of my miserable mind set. Combined with some other high-quality mood boosters (dinner with a friend, an unexpected phone call from my uncle, Christmas shopping with my brother), by the time the next trivia rolled around, I was a whole new person.

The night was much more jovial all around. Since I only had one more work day until Winter Break, I even joined the group when they went to karaoke after. It was a lot of fun until, suddenly, most people left. Only my friend and I remained.

I was torn because I’d been intending to leave soon myself. I hesitated because I could see his depression kicking in. I had seen him in depressed moods before, but this was my first time witnessing it take over. The change was drastic. I was at a loss. After all, he’d resisted me reaching out on prior occasions. Our friendship felt tenuous.

He, of course, said I could go. He’d be fine by himself. He was used to it.

At this, I became angry. I yelled at him. While I didn’t raise my voice and managed to keep my tone calm, I yelled at him all the same. I told him I’d rather stay here, get home late and sleep well, than go home now and lose sleep fretting about him. When he protested, I called him out on his recent posts telling people to “check on your friends, check on your friends, check on your friends.”

“I’m checking on my friend. You don’t have to talk to me, but I’m staying.” I sat myself on the same side of the picnic table, but scooted to the far end of the bench to give him space.

Being reminded of his own words quieted his arguments and we sat there awkwardly. A man came by and broke the remaining tension when he showed us a magic trick involving rubber bands. We talked for a while after that. Nothing serious or heavy; lightness was the medicine needed.
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Staying was right choice. Many things – small and large – came out of that night and will get told at different times and in different ways. For me, the most important was the confidence boost. Telling someone I’m staying because I know they’re not okay and I don’t want to lose sleep over it was maybe one of the most freeing things I’ve ever said.

I am most looking forward to potentially changing my meds to something that’ll let my emotions stabilize. I always knew depression was a possible side effect, but it wasn’t until my dosage was increased in mid-October that I became aware of the impact.

If you look back at my entries from September and early October, you can see that a lot was going on. I know I kept things broad and vague, but you can see that my thoughts were heavy. At the same time, I felt calm. Sad as I was, I was also calm.

When my dosage bumped up, the calm retreated. My emotions became bigger and more erratic. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the fight with my dad happened the week after the change,

The previous times the amount was increased, my mood would be off for a few days then settle down. This time, the off-ness has stayed. The mood swings aren’t quite so big, but I am still off. Having a break from them last week, then resuming has made it apparent the meds aren’t an innocent bystander.

The medication problem will be resolved soon enough. I can hang in there another month. The tricky part is that this has been a rough few months. There are reasons to be sad; things to face and things to walk away from. Knowing my sadness is being amplified makes it harder to decide what to do, what to address. Do I take steps now or wait until I’m feeling more level? I don’t quite trust that anything I do – either waiting or acting – won’t be giving the sadness too much power.

As I muddle my way through this, I’m trying to keep from isolating myself so much. Trying to be honest with people without over-sharing. Trying to not take things too personally or cynically. Trying to remember what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown.

I am tired and I am sad and this is not forever.

Hopefully.

Last Saturday, November 5th, I ran in the Screaming Monkey 100 50k. It went well! Way better than anticipated. I approached the race expecting to walk almost the entire 31 miles. I knew I was under-trained, and knew that pushing myself too hard would awaken all my worst symptoms. As luck would have it, early on, I found myself in a pace that I could maintain for almost the entire first half. I took my time at the aide stations, and sipped down plenty of Gatorade. The second half I walked quite a bit more, but was still able to run a fair amount. All together, I think I ran well over 20 of the miles. Additionally, I was only an hour slower during the 2nd half compared for the first. Yay!

​I’m really glad I did it, although I was a little surprised at how lonely I felt after it was done. Everyone there was quite friendly, but most attendees and participants were local. They had their group. If I was less tired and introverted, I’m sure I could have joined in with some of the people at the finish line. As it was, after showering, I just quietly ate my dinner while watching the 100 milers change up gear for their night leg.

Adding to my loneliness was my lack of phone signal. I was unable to send or receive any updates. When I drove out the next morning, I only had one message from my brother waiting for me. I was also disappointed that I didn’t hear from any friends. I’d sent a couple texts about heading to Shreveport, but nothing…

While driving through northern LA/southern AR, I gave myself a talking to. Because of my desire to avoid advice and keep myself from overthinking, I’d barely told anyone I was doing the 50k. Even the texts about Shreveport were vague and barely alluded to the race. One friend in particular doesn’t do well with subtle hints and needs directness. In short, while keeping things close was an important part of maintaining my nerves, it also made it harder for my people to support me. They had no idea I was wanting encouragement because I hadn’t let anyone know.

A harder pill to swallow was not hearing from my parents. In my last post, I talked about my conflict with them. As of the race, we still hadn’t talked. It hurt that they didn’t send me anything, and only reinforced the frustrating feeling that they were waiting for me to step up and resolve things. Talking to my brother, I learned my dad had regularly asked him if he’d heard from me. Dad never reached out to me, though. I was in my room when they got home from church. They didn’t knock on my door or even call out. That’s how it’d been for the previous week and a half.

After another day of silence (I took off that Monday), I finally talked to my mom Tuesday morning before work. It helped. She maintains that I’d been hard to talk to with my walking out of room (which is true), but took me seriously when I told her I was tired of trying to get them to hear me. I haven’t spoken with my dad yet, but I don’t overwhelmed with feelings about the whole thing any more. I also don’t particularly want to initiate a conversation, so we’ll see how that goes.

I’m glad I did the race. I feel lighter. Also, with it going so well, I feel more confident about hanging in with the other hard and confusing things happening right now. The experience is helping me learn to trust myself again.

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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.