Thoughts on the State of Things

I skipped yoga class today to give my body a bit of a break.  My body was asking nicely but persistently, like a polite six-year-old wanting ice cream, so I took the path of least resistance and opted for a day off from the studio.

I’m instead spending the morning doing domestic things and sipping chamomile tea to calm my anxiety so that I can have coffee and remind myself of the difference between caffeinated energy and a panic attack.

My anxiety has been growing since I read an article about Donald Trump’s ghostwriter.  I don’t make a habit of reading the New York/er/Times/Post, but I started because of this astoundingly hipster marriage announcement that was just … a delight to read.  A true delight.  I am at a loss for words, but not at a loss for ALL the available side eye to provide to that couple.

But the article about the ghostwriter …it’s given me nightmares.  Actual nightmares.  I want to inform myself by looking up the platforms of both candidates, but I cannot do it.  I feel this awful loathing toward informing myself on The Real State of Things, because if I see something that I don’t like, I alone do not have the power to change it immediately.  For those of you who have an irrational fear of something like…checking voicemails, or your bank account, it’s that same feeling.

Everyone I’ve talked to, or read (their tweets / posts / etc) are in some state of mixed terror-ennui, with a healthy dose of WTF.  I thought about Pokemon Go (and its inane fun to collect small things that remind me of how much I loved Tamagotchi), and then thought about how people are disgruntled and saying it’s a distraction from what’s really going on.  I thought about #BLM and #ALM and how people of any color are just killing people for no reason other than hating the color of the other person’s skin.  I thought about how things like this have happened for so long but only recently (in the scope of humanity’s timeline) that it’s been so widely publicized.  I thought of how I may only hear the same sentiment because I – like so many others – am friends with, or follow, people with similar interests.  It makes sense in some scale: you don’t associate with people who are adamantly not like you, or against things that you enjoy.  Excuse the broad brush, but if you’re a recovering alcoholic, you aren’t going to hang with your college buddies that only play beer pong or do bar crawls.

I started wondering… how can we mix everyone’s ideas?  How can someone Uber-Right talk with someone Uber-Left, and keep it to an intelligent roar?   How can someone, trained from childhood that the right thing to do is kill someone with different religious beliefs, have a discussion with someone who has different religious beliefs?  How can someone of one color who hates someone of another color have a discussion about why they feel that way?  Not a fight, not a riot, a discussion.  I’m not saying change the beliefs, I’m saying let’s change the approach.  Ask questions.  Why do you feel like this?  It’s not everyone …who feels this way, against your beliefs.  I just want to help.  I just want it to not be so awful.

I thought about starting a thing of just talking to people with vastly different opinions of mine, with a goal of having a discussion.  It might change their perspective, it might change mine, but we’d both come away with different points of view.  We could agree to disagree, if we really couldn’t find anything in common.  I think I’m open to that.  If one person, for example, a person of one race that really hates people of another race, wanted to talk about why they felt that way, I’d be interested in talking with them as long as they attempted to have a discussion and not a shouting match.  One by one.  We can do this.

I thought of the lifestyle changes I’ve made recently and how they’ve helped me, and then I read an article about how wellness and self-care are bullshit to help us not pay attention to large-scale issues.  Which might be true, and which did not a single bit of good for my anxiety, but I’m trying to think of it this way:  I know how I feel when I take time for myself, and that INCLUDES reading cheesy motivational stuff.  I tell people about it because I feel great, and I want them to experience the same feelings.  And I know how I felt before, which was not great.  My new positive-ish outlook then gives me more energy and more motivation to help others, and if I can put just ONE person in a positive mood, maybe they’ll help or motivate someone else.  Maybe that ONE person will be nicer, and someone else will notice.  Maybe someone will be in a good enough mood to discuss tough issues and change someone else’s ideas on bad things.  It might start a chain.  It might not, but you never know.  All I know for certain is how I feel.

Here, have some background music.  And hopefully a good day.

 

 

 

Not A Solution, But At Least An Answer

Diagnosis, at present, is labyrinthitis.

You know… if I’m going to have a shitty disorder, it might as well have a cool name. Or something.

In any case, it’s nice to see that I’m not crazy, that this really is a thing. It doesn’t make it any more pleasant, but at least it’s real. It also is nice to understand why it feels like there’s a ……radio next to my head. Or something. Sounds are higher pitched right now and everything sounds just a little on the metallic side. Loud noises are really tough to deal with. Randomly it will just feel like someone came up behind me and shoved my head off to the side.

The whole thing is very much like a low grade sort of drunkenness. I’ve got good days and bad days. The good days are where I can function normally and have very minimal nausea or tiredness; no walking into things.

The bad days feel like a constant low key motion sickness, with a lot of brain fog. It’s hard to visually focus on anything and feels like I just stopped spinning around for no apparent reason. I’ll bump into things at random, have trouble with motor skills, and find myself staring into space. Conversations are kind of difficult. My words get mixed up, or I can’t get sentences out properly. My typing goes to hell and lots of things get misspelled if I’m not careful. I really, REALLY want to lie down and take a nap. It’s frustrating because there’s nothing to see – it’s one of those “invisible illnesses”. The bad days have bumped up my depression quite a bit.

The best part is that my job is a front desk job, and on the side I do e-marketing/SEO/web development/social media/etc stuff for the company’s website. Clearly nothing that involves typing or talking with people. :((

It’s really awful. It isn’t permanent though, but can last anywhere from 8 weeks to a year.

What’s not awful is knowing other people are going through this.

Currently awaiting a referral from my doctor for an ENT specialist, so we’ll go from there.

Bright note: I’d much rather my hearing go than my sight. It’s the little things.

Of Hurricanes and Graphite

My social networks are a huge conglomeration of everyone I’ve ever met, and some I haven’t. Primarily it’s a West Coast feed, as most East Coast people I – for some unknown reason – have kept on to pseudo relate with. Excluding a select handful, any East Coast peeps still in my periphery are there for entertainment value or to remind me of how far I’ve come. The majority of their feeds are hidden from my daily view not just because of terrible grammar but because of their extreme lack of giving a fuck.

LIEK, OMG! SOMETHING! IS! IMPORTANT!!!!

I don’t care about your new purse. I don’t care about your drama. I do care about why you’re still a waitress (not a manager) at the same diner you worked at 15 years ago, and why you’re going on 30 with your priorities being more “Which club should I go to next and what bus will still run after 11pm” instead of “Will I ever get a driver’s license” or “Will I ever move out of my mom’s house”.

Their feeds are hidden because of stuff like this, copied verbatim (edited for names/addresses):

——————————

“It cud always b worst.”

“I’m face book how lol comment me back”

“Lol!!! A drunk aint shit”

“Ok cuzzo…squad up….lol…”

“Is blessed…bout to start my Sunday Din din…sauteed in C.Of.M. bone/skinless chkn breast..mac and cheese..green beans…stuffing and yams..yummy:)!!”

“Im gna say this once!! ANYONE WHO WANTS TO SAY SMTG ABOUT ME OR WANTS TO KEEP LYN TO PPL ABOUT ME U CAN CALL ME OR SEE ME IT GOES FOR EVERYONE!! DONT BITCH UP NOW BITCHES…”

“Hey its me XXXXX’s niece i had to log on for him but i wanted to put the word out on his profile for everone he said if anyones waiting or trying to get in touch with him can write him at THIS ADDRESS XXXXX XXXXX ###### Depart of corrections Green Rock Correctional Center [edited address]”

“Yoo….to all my yurp squad n yace squad members we will be performing at the XXXX XXX in the city in july….hit me up or XXXX n let us know if u tryna perform…..”

“Now its time to take care of me!! Not everyone else excpt my kids.. So every one else can kick rocks and fuck off!!!”

“just lettn it be known to certain ppl… im actn up today!!! Past week…lol”

“Its not what we do that defines us, but how we rise above every situtation tht may be thrown are way!!!!!”

“dont blame me for what u cant acheive im jus me and do me ill slap a b*****””

“I’m 30… N still sh*tin on u! I am me… Lol somethin u’ll never b so hate on haters! ;D” (Seriously, that is the title of one of her photo albums. All bathroom mirror angle shots.)

“MY HATERS ARE MY MOTIVATION. YOU CAN SAY WHAT YOU WANNA SAY ABOUT ME BUT ONE THING THAT YOU CANT SAY IS THAT IM A BAD MOM. BEEN DOING IT FOR ALMOST NINE YEARS NOW AND MINES DOESNT WANT OR NEED FOR A DAMN THING. SHE WILL HAVE BY ANY MEANS. BELIEVE THAT. SO GET YOUR INFO STRAIGHT BEFORE YOU TRY AND TALK ABOUT ONE OF THE WORLDS GREATEST MOTHERS. PEACE AND BLESSINGS HATERS”

“FUCK ALL OF YOU HATIN ASS BITCHES AND NIGGAS. NOW RUN TELL THAT”

“washing clothes today and spending time w/ donna i enjoy coming up here its relaxing….cant wait to go to grams tonight and spend time w/ my family miss u dad and sissy hope u guys are doing well…”

“on our way to gram and paps for dinner our favorite day of the week sure wish u were there mama. on our way to stop and see u at the cemetary love u our angel”

“JESUS IS ALWAYS A FRIEND FOREVER, ITS THOSE DEVIL FRIENDS WHO WILL KILL YOU AND FORSAKE YOU…JESUS COMFORT FEELS IN FOR HUMAN ABANDONMENT….JESUS”

“Each & Every Saturdays ALL NEW! #1 SPOT CLUB BABE’LON A.T.L (MNL) & DEM RADIO BOYZ OF THE JUICE WILL BE IN THE BUILDING HOSTED BY: JROC & KAJ BOOGIE (NO SWEATS NO TEES 1$ SHOTS FREE DRINKS @12 IN VIP FOR LADIES VIP IS AVAILABLE! *POWER HOUR 1030-1130 DON’T BE LEFT OUT FOR VIP SATURDAYS!”

——————————

Anyway. The short version is that A) Facebook is turning into Myspace and B) reading all that hurt my brain. If you’re updating your status via phone, just take a minute to give a shit, that’s all. It’s not hard.

Before that rant, the point I wanted to say is that all my East Coast peeps are up in arms about the hurricane a-comin’ and I’m having a really hard time even considering telling people (individually) to stay safe, because it’s 90 degrees in my house and I’ve been sick for like, a month.

Growing up, storms – mild and bad – were a part of life. You batten down the hatches, you put things away, you have your flashlights in working order, and you sit on the porch to watch the storm roll in. When it’s rolled close enough thankyouverymuch, you head inside. If it’s really bad, you head down to the fruit cellar. You wait, you read, you go to bed when the last hint of daylight goes away. You get through it. Trees fall, basements flood, roofs get torn off. Glass breaks. It’s scary – for real – but it stops eventually. There’s something to be said for the smell of rain, before and after a storm.

Not saying that people shouldn’t prepare, or be cautious, or worried. They should do and be all of those things. But I don’t have the mental energy right now to do what so many others are doing and start the whole “OMG BE SAFE BE CAREFUL” on everyone’s Facebook or Twitter or where have you. I’m just drained. The media is playing up all the fear. So if everyone could just take a step back and realize that they don’t need to start a riot, that would be nice.

Consider this your mass “Hope you guys get through it alright and there is little to no damage. Best of luck.” post.

Speaking of getting through it, my illness relapsed today, which was lame. That whole no sugar or alcohol thing is tougher than I thought, because a beer sounds AWESOME right now.

Actually, Oreos with a glass of cold milk sounds even MORE awesome, so there’s that.

Then I found Oreo Cupcakes With Built In Milk Cups and almost died.

Counting to 5

Today I had to go to the dentist. It was less than pleasant, but much needed.

You know how the chairs kick back and you’re fairly comfortable, except for the part where they dig around in your mouth with sharp objects? Let’s just say that for about an hour and a half, it was me, reclining bound angle pose, and counting. If you temple your fingers and carefully touch the tips together, mentally counting each one in one long exhale – 1/2/3/4/5 complete exhale ~ inhale, hold ~ 1/2/3/4/5 complete exhale, the time passes very quickly.

Excluding a small panic attack and some uh, more than mild discomfort, yoga helped. An instructor once mentioned during savasana that if you are keeping the soles of your feet together (like in the bound angle pose above), the energy recirculates in your body. I don’t know how true that is, but it works for me, and that’s what counts.

Anyway.

My mouth hurts, but feels much cleaner. That has to count for something. This week’s goal: find a new dentist, get off the medication. I’m drained from all of the antibiotics and whatnot I’ve been taking for the past two weeks (but at least the general feeling of sickness and nausea is gone). My clarity …isn’t. I’m not drowsy, I’m exhausted.

Tomorrow’s goal is to either go to yoga class or walk on the beach in the morning. Most likely opting for a walk, as the Tuesday night class is a little more strenuous than I’m quite ready for.

Slowly but surely, I will be back. There are miles to go before I sleep.