Anxiety · Healing

Thoughts on 2017 and being overwhelmed

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Toronto Zoo, New Year’s Eve 2016

Any way you look at it, 2017 was a year of incredible change. Some of it was positive, and a lot of it was negative. The climate is getting worse, our neighbour the United States is ideologically tearing itself apart, powerful men are getting called out on their sexual privilege, people are withdrawing more and more into technology, and everyone everywhere is bemoaning the state of the world.

For me personally it has also been a watershed year. Not only did I make a brave and life-altering decision to move back to my hometown, I also turned 35 and in many ways said goodbye to my youth. For me this has been a year of confusion, uncertainty and instability. It feels like the foundations on which I once built my life are crumbling.

When I was growing up in the 1990s, in an era before the Internet changed everyone’s lives, there were certain things I understood to be universally true based on the model set by the Baby Boomer parents raising me and my peers. You grew up, went to university, and found a 9-5, Monday-to-Friday office job. You married and had kids by the time you were 30. Weekends revolved around housework, shopping, and going to the occasional party or movie. You spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with your extended family. In the summer you would travel, take picnics, go camping. In the winter you might skate or go sledding for recreation (I live in Canada). Travel to exotic places took a lot of saving and planning. That was the way things were, and always would be.

Fast-forward to 2017, and nothing I took for granted has remained. I am at a strange age. On the one hand, I live in the shadow of the Baby Boomers who were my role models growing up, the narcissistic, environment-destroying, racist, “you can skip work when you’re dying,” folks who have largely left the workplace in order to be incredibly self-indulgent and unproductive.  On the other side of me are the Millennials, the people who were screwed over by the thoughtlessness of the older generation, and now have decided the best way to cope with their situation is to work from home, bury themselves in their smartphones, and not acknowledge the fact that their lives are giving them serious mental health issues.

So where does that leave the people my age, the people in between these two generational juggernauts?  For the most part, I feel like the rug has been pulled out from under my feet. I was raised to believe that life was going to be a certain way when I was 35, and now that I’m here, I’m being told, “sorry, everything you trained for is wrong, the world is shit, you got nothing.”

And I’m not saying it’s all bad. The suburbs, the nuclear family, the 9-5 job, the racists, the sexists, and the xenophobes can all suck it as far as I’m concerned. Breaking down those expectations is great. But I’m feeling like I don’t know where I stand on anything right now. I feel like I’m living in a constant flood of information telling me all kinds of contradictory things, confusing me.  Everything I do is fraught with worry over whether I’m even allowed to be enjoying it or not. Is Christmas still okay?  Is this movie problematic? Is this book perpetuating stereotypes? Am I living my best life?

At the best of times, I am overwhelmed by change. But this year has felt like a personal tsunami. It’s so much, so fast, and as a sensitive person I am completely and entirely overwhelmed by it all. It’s like being dropped down a well and not knowing if I can even remember how to swim.

How to cope

So here is my plan for how to cope with it all.

First of all, I am going to listen to my inner voice. I have to let go of my fear of missing out and just follow the path that I think is right for me. I don’t give a shit about what’s popular on Netflix, or the latest food fad, or jumping on the new Twitter bandwagon, or whether I’m “just like everyone else.” The world has enough “everyone else’s.” It only has one me.

I am going to make a conscious effort to unplug more. Study after study has shown that people are happier the less time they spend online, and it’s true. Humans are meant to be connected in person, they’re meant to be moving, they’re meant to be living in the physical world and creating things.

I’m going to read more, because reading makes me see the world in a better light, and relaxes me, and it just makes me happy, damnit!

And last but not least, I am going to create. So often I feel like I have no voice in this world. Creating gives me the opportunity to speak through what I write and paint and draw. And that’s a beautiful thing.

Healing

Fighting to stay afloat

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Catalina Island, taken by me, April 2017

Looking back on all I’ve done this last year, I can say with a certain amount of pride I’ve done very well. I’ve worked very, very hard to stay on top of my anxiety. This summer I bit the bullet and accepted I needed to continue my medication. I exercised as often as I could, and took up swimming again after almost twenty years. I joined a French class at my local community college. I made a huge move so I could have a better life and a better job, and it has made a huge difference. I challenged myself to be more creative, and I’ve far and away exceeded my expectations: I took up creative journaling, learned how to knit, started painting, and even created a weekly sketching class at my library.
I’ve also made it my mission to learn more about myself and follow the examples of people who are happier.

In response to that, I’ve made some changes in my life and routine. I’ve tried to cut back on unproductive screen time. I’ve tried to get up at the same time every day. I’ve followed the suggestions from a book about highly sensitive people, and have incorporated more gentle activities, like petting my bunnies and sitting by the fire. I’ve forced myself to get out and socialize more. I’ve taken two trips by plane this year. I’ve worked to be more productive at my job.

And it hasn’t always been easy. I have been far from perfect. I know my eating habits could really stand to be improved, because I stress-eat and I’ve gained some weight this year. I still probably spend too much time online.

The thing is, even though they’ve been rewarding, doing all the good things has been hard. I place a huge amount of pressure on myself to not fall into the same old habits that got me where I was last year. This is why I have been fighting so much. Because every time I want to get cranky or find myself becoming stressed or anxious, I remind myself of where I was this time last year. And I now have it permanently tattooed in my brain, to scare me from ever getting that way again. Never again. Never again. Never again.

Twice in a lifetime is enough to experience those kind of horrors.

Healing

A light in the dark

IMG_0490Royal Ontario Museum, taken by me, January 2017

If you’ve been following this blog, you’ve probably noticed the long interval since the last time I posted.  We moved into our new house on Labour Day weekend and as much as I wanted to write, so many other commitments tied me up.

I have been doing better mentally since we moved.  The chaos of being in transition is over, and the future seems much more tangible. I love my new house.  It is everything I’ve always wanted.  I love my new neighbourhood and living in the city.  I love my new job (well, most of the time).  It allows me to be creative and direct my time.  I have met a lot of new people, and I have been doing a lot more art.  I have also started reviewing books for a professional journal and I even joined a knitting group (even though I’ve never knit before in my life).

Am I deliriously happy? No. There are pockets of joy, and times when I feel content. But then there are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, freaking out and convinced I made a huge mistake. There are times when I think about my old house and my old job and my old friends and I feel a huge wave of sadness. Even though my life has improved in so many ways, it’s like my mind hasn’t adjusted yet.

The spectre of last year hangs over me, always.  When I think of where I was a year ago, I know I’ve come a long way.  But I also know I have a long way to go.  Looking back on my teenage nervous breakdown, I think it was a full three or four years before I stopped having anxiety/depression relapses. I suspect it won’t be any different this time.  They won’t be “gone” forever but hopefully I can get them fewer and farther between.

The difference between then and now is that I am much more aware of my emotions and the need to take care of myself. So I want to keep writing about the things I’m learning and the things I’m discovering about anxiety, depression and sensitivity.  I hope this blog continues to be a resource for people who need it. A light in the dark.

Anxiety

Birthday pity party

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Tomorrow I turn 35, and I just don’t want to deal with it.  I usually like my birthdays, but I am greeting this one without a lot of enthusiasm and quite a lot of dread.  I don’t know how growing older doesn’t bother so many people.  It bothers me.  I can’t embrace aging.  I’m not happy about it.

I don’t like feeling that my best years are behind me, and there’s nothing to look forward to.  I have been through so much in the past year, and I hate thinking that might be all there is.  I hate thinking that I won’t look as good, and that my body will start to hurt in all sorts of ways I haven’t imagined.

It makes me angry that I have swallowed this whole “women aren’t valuable after 35.”  That I’ve internalized it to such a degree that I have been depressed about it for the last few days.  It infuriates me that men are just considered to be reaching their prime at this age while women are seemingly thrown out with the trash.

It’s maddening, in so many ways, that it should be this way.  Because I really have come so far, and accomplished and learned so much.  I should be celebrating.  I should be happy.  I should be saying, “fuck it, I don’t even care any more.  I’m the best!”  But all I can do is look back on my twenties with jealous envy.

I don’t even know what 35 is supposed to be like anymore.  Half the people I know have families and kids, the other half live alone in an apartment.  Some people are world leaders, some of them just play video games all day.  Everyone older than me can’t be bothered with technology and everyone younger can’t live without it.  This is 2017 and the world is super confusing.  I don’t even know what’s supposed to be what.  All the old rules are gone.

I’ve never been happy about growing older.  Ever.  The night before I turned 10 years old, I went into the bathroom and cried all evening.  When I was 16, I used to complain to everyone about how old I felt.  On my 21st birthday, I started having panic attacks and had to spend the day in bed.

I’ll probably be fine tomorrow.  I’ll have a good time.  But tonight I just want to curl up and feel sorry for myself.

Anxiety · Depression

Back on the meds

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Daisies, June 2017

Just a short update today.  I finally got in to see a doctor last week.  He said that given my family history and the fact that my mood has been so up and down, I should stay on the escitalopram indefinitely.

I am both relieved and devastated at the same time.  Who knew it was possible to feel both?

Depression

Regretful

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Painting by my mother

I don’t know that I really have a topic today, other than I just haven’t been feeling well.  I have been moved for six weeks and I still ache thinking about what I left behind.  I still don’t feel settled in.  I have been working for a month and I am tired all the time.  We are still living at my mom’s but we have bought a house.  I am exhausted from all the work that entailed.

I keep having this nagging, pervasive feeling that I made a huge life mistake.  We moved back to my hometown, which is in a really economically depressed part of the country.  Part of the reason we moved was so that we could do more and give back to the community that raised us.  But I worry that the poverty and lack of education will take too much of a toll on me.  Almost everyone who graduated with me is gone, moved to greener pastures like I was for the last ten years.  Everyone who is educated eventually leaves.

It is just a really depressing situation.  In the place I just moved from, I was always jealous of the people my age who had all their family and friends with them and almost no one left.  I did not have the privilege of being raised in such a town.  In the town I grew up in, the reality was that everyone leaves when they graduate.  Canada is peopled by the scattered population of the Maritimes.

I know there are lots of good things about living here, but right now I am in a funk.  I have already started to help people in my new job, but I worry I have given up my dreams of adventure and success.  I just wish I could feel settled and content.

I am turning 35 next month.  I don’t want to be old.  I don’t want to have made the wrong decision and doomed myself for life.

Anxiety · Healing

Journey off medication

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I have been trying to write for ages but I can never seem to steal the time.  Between my new job and house-hunting, I’m exhausted at the end of the day.

I have been trying to go off my anti-anxiety medication for good now.  Partly because my worries have subsided somewhat since I moved, partly because I’m on a waiting list to get a new doctor so I have no idea how long it will take to get a refill.

The process has been really frustrating because there is just so little information on what to expect going off the medication.  I went to a half dose for awhile and then a half-dose every other day, then (mostly) cold turkey the last week or so.  Some of the side effects are annoying but expected, like brain fog, irritation, dizziness, some anxiety, etc.

The biggest difference I’ve noticed is a huge weight gain.  This is what makes it so frustrating, because I can’t find anything online about if this is a side effect of going off medication.  I just know I’ve had a huge appetite the last month or so, like nothing I eat is satisfying me.  I’m trying to get more nutritious food and I’m actually exercising more than ever, but I can’t seem to curb my appetite.  I am trying not to cry every time I can’t fit into clothes I’ve worn for years or see the extra layers of fat in the mirror.  But I’m a small person and every extra bit of weight shows on me.

As a perfectionist this is so hard on me.  I’ve been doing so well fighting my negative thoughts and adjusting to my huge cross-country move and my new job.  But if one thing is off, like my weight, I obsess about it and feel like a failure.  I usually start the day with good intentions, but after a long day of work I inevitably crash and just want to gorge.  I’m not in my own house so I don’t feel like I have any control over the kitchen.  I am still settling into a whole new daily routine so it does through one’s food habits off, so I shouldn’t be surprised.  Still, it’s one more thing to deal with emotionally that I wish I didn’t have to.