Vocabulary Vixen

June 29, 2009

Cleaning House

Filed under: Health and Well-Being — VocabularyV @ 1:38 PM

This is where things indeed get tricky.

I have spent an enormous amount of time and effort trying out various “diets” and “exercise programs” all in the name of Crash and Burn later. I start any new idea or creative impulse out the same way: REALLY well. Too well. AndthenIfallofflaterwhenI’mbored. But, I do recognize the need for a decent diet and exercise, it’s just difficult in my extremely chaotic life. …This said as I just finished a DELICIOUS home-made spinach salad, topped off with a large helping of cookies. Damn it. I need to keep the fucking sugar out of my house. Or “my” sugar out of my house. Hubby can eat what he wants, I get dangerous with sugar-laden goodies.

I just plain and simply don’t have the focus to STICK to a damn “program” or “way of life”. Impulse usually wins over “discipline”. Yes, I’ve read all of the “tips, tricks, and hints” out there for “trimming the tummy”, or “whittling the waistline”, or any other cutesy euphemism for trying to feel better about what I see in the mirror. I operate in extremes, and general moderation, in anything, doesn’t work so well for me. I know I feel better when I eat better. I just don’t know how or what the hell to cook on those days that I’m just plain tired, stressed out, and a bowl of cereal and/or ice cream is much more comforting to me as an Autopilot Zombie than putting together a simple salad.

One thing that I WILL be doing today is either running or riding my bike, something I have been absolutely and utterly unable to do because it’s Allergy Season has wrought chaos upon my psyche here in the midwest. It’s especially bad where I am for some reason or another. I’ll be posting about my ALLERGY ALERT: DEFCON 4 soon. My focus today is on food and body. Such naughty words!

I want to tone my body. And just feel good about myself. Some days, I’ve got it. Others, I don’t. It also depends on medication levels, where I am in my menstrual cycle, what I’ve been eating, how I’ve been sleeping, etc. I just want to be healthy. No matter what size I am, I just want to be healthy. I know I’ll likely never be a Super Studdette, like a few of my friends, because creating and maintaining a food and exercise program goes in File 13: Damn Near Fucking Impossible. The key word(s): Damn Near. I also wondered and/or thought it would be impossible to ever post regularly to my blog. I’d assumed that I’d create it, REALLY want to do it, and then get bored with it and never go back to it again. Well, here I am. Why? Because I was inspired. I was inspired by Dooce and The F Word. And so I turned it into a habit on my regular internet prowling. It took awhile since I’d initially created it, but such as life, and such is me.

Maybe I’ve been making the exercise thing too damn hard?

Perhaps it just needs to happen. And automatically. I need to make the habit, and just do it for the sake of doing it. Turn it into second nature. Don’t worry about scheduling a specific time in the day to do it. Don’t worry about turning it into a space shuttle launch. If it’s raining, then run inside on the treadmill. If the allergies are pissing me off, run on the treadmill. That’s what it’s there for. There’s no doubt that it makes me feel better to run. And do so on a regular basis. Perhaps trying to put these huge goals in mind has been part of the problem?? Perhaps I just need to do it, and that’s final. There’s no need to be obsessive about it. I can use a healthier “addiction” anyway, but without the chains and pressure of an Ultimate Goal: To Lose Weight Or Else. The weight will come off. Or the fat will come off. I’m at odds with the scale at this point in my life anyway. Perhaps one of those “body fat scale” contraption thingies would be more useful to me at this point than just an arbitrary number (=TOO MUCH, FATTIE!!). Maybe that would be easier to track? I’m not sure at this point.

One thing is indeed for sure: I spend WAY too much time addicted to fucking around on the internet. Perhaps some of this energy could be used elsewhere.

Maybe I can adjust what Autopilot Zombie thinks and does with some minor tweaking. Autopilot Zombie (AZ) doesn’t care about what she’s eating. Just what’s very easily available. Hence, our need to constantly eat out and whatnot, because I’m too stressed out/busy/unfocused to sit down and cook. Besides, I don’t *want* to cook, because that requires *effort* that I would rather go to other pursuits, like writing, reading, RUNNING, etc. Hmmm…………………….. The next question: What will HE eat that I can eat and/or tweak as well for my vegetarian diet?? All of these are good questions that will require a little bit of thought to answer.

For now, though… Instead of a nap, I’m going to peel my ass off my chair with a spatula and go for a run. The allergies are mild today (it’s only the the point of my teeth itching, so I’m good!), the wind is blowing, and it’s not hellishly hot and humid outside. If I “wait for later”, I won’t go.

So maybe the best time to go is right after work? Then I’ve got the REST of the day to screw around!!! Woot, woot!

June 26, 2009

A side of comedy

Filed under: Health and Well-Being — VocabularyV @ 12:19 PM
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Here I am, still writing. I had to take a day off because my ISP canned our internet because they had not received the payment in the mail. It would have been A LOT EASIER had their internet payment page been WORKING! But, it wasn’t. I, being the conscientious bill payer I am <snortgiggle>, decided that I would instead mail it so that way I didn’t forget about it. Seems reasonable. Why should I want our internet cut, even if temporarily? I *CAN* quit the internet at ANY TIME I want, I just don’t want to at this moment in time.

So… enter Wednesday night. I dropped my dear husband off at work, went to do some cleaning and dusting at the coffee shop (I am a supervisor now!! …of inantimate objects…) I came home a couple of hours later and TRAGEDY! THE WORLD STOPPED TURNING AND TIME STOOD STILL!! No, not really. Not for the rest of your internet-bill-paying folk. So, I called the ISP. After all, I had mailed the bill off last Saturday and it seemed perfectly reasonable for them to bring my damn internet back so I could get back to doing nothing productive on it. I called them, and since they had not yet received the payment, they had cut my service. I was peeved. It was sort of one of those “last straw” type of deals, where I’d been having a hard day and that was it! No more Ms. Nice Guy Gal. I let ’em have it. I ranted on the phone for 45 minutes about their useless website, and how they would HAVE the payment had their website NOT gone down last SATURDAY before I left town when I was initially intending on paying. Okay, not really. The conversation was reasonably pleasant. I was peeved, but I made my point, and moved on.

…The world continued to turn. People went about their daily lives, and I decided that I would read a book instead of doing anything computer related. I finished Things I learned about my Dad” a collection of heartfelt essays edited by Heather B. Armstrong, the lovely, intelligent, and gifted mastermind behind the most popular blog on the internet: Dooce.com

No, I’m not getting paid by anybody to promote this woman. What I appreciate about her writing and her blogging is that she’s honest. She’s been honest from the start, and I think that a lot of us little guys down here can definitely relate to her day-to-day activities

And oh, how I love ADD. One moment, I can be perfectly happy on one train of thought, and then SHOOM! It’s out the window and a new train of thought is entering my head. It actually turns into quite the train wreck most days, but WHEN I REMEMBER my medication, things go a lot better. I can function. I don’t have to spend ten minutes looking for my shirt, keys, and hair brush before I leave. I just spend five instead, but five minutes well spent on being relaxed and “in gear”. The key, though, is because I’m so forgetful, is making a point of taking the damn meds. It’s a struggle a lot of days, but when I do take them, I am that much more thankful that I am a fully functioning human being. All engines are firing, everything is Go For Launch, and I’m not in a constant state of brain-puttering. I can go from senile young ‘un to super-genius capacity in a matter of 20 minutes, and it is Wonderful. I had actually worried for a long time whether or not I was indeed losing it, or if I was experiencing very early-onset Huntington’s Disease. Nope. Just ADD. I just happen to have three things working against me in diagnosis: #1, I’m female. Females are notorious for being under diagnosed. #2, I’m pretty freakin’ sharp. I still managed to pull a B average in high school AND earn a college degree without really ever finding out about the ADD. #3… what was that again? Oh yeah. I was not, and am not, hyperactive by nature. There are many different layers in a diagnosis for AD/HD, as there are many different layers for diagnosis for many other disorders out there. I had always assumed that I wasn’t hyperactive and I was able to focus on things (that I enjoy immensely) that I didn’t have this weird “ADD” thing that was being thrown around as the diagnosis du-jour for the decade.

Once I got to college, everything fell apart. The only reason why I got through college was a lot of elbow grease, sheer, hellbound determination to FINISH, a little bit of wit, and some very kind teachers. They saw I was bright and I did enough work to eek through with a B/C average. But, I always fell into that pattern. That pattern of “Things are Interesting, so I’m gonna work REALLY hard to do REALLY well… And then things aren’t so interesting… So I’m not going to study/do my projects until the deadline is RIGHT HERE, and then I’m going to race like hell to finish and turn in something that I”m overall not satisfied with.” Such as the story of my life. I still struggle with this, but there’s a name for it now, at least. I forget sometimes and get really frustrated with myself and the world. I then have to calmly remind myself that THIS is ADD in Action. And that the “symptom management” part is something that I’m working on, slowly but surely.

Of course, I write this as I’ve got a large project to work on that needs to be finished and I can’t seem to get my brain to motivate itself to finish. I’m bored with it. It’s a grueling process, and I’m annoyed that A.) It’s taken this long to do. And B.) It’s not finished. This is also part of the ADD, and I’ve GOT to just buckle down and DO IT, but that, of course, is akin to MOVING A FUCKING MOUNTAIN right now. Just like putting my fucking socks away. Or doing my dishes. It doesn’t take a lot of time or effort, I know this. I also know that once I do it, I’ll be relieved. It’s just the GETTING THERE is the REALLY daunting part. I’ll eventually do it. I hope I can nail myself down today and do it, but I’ll put that in the Can ‘O Hope that I’ve got for WAKING UP FIVE MINUTES earlier every morning and going to work ON TIME… Even though I see the blatant hypocrisy with the other supervisors that are consistently and continually late. I think that they have it pretty FREAKIN’ good if that’s my ONLY issue. I’m TWO minutes late every morning. The store isn’t even open yet, and guess what?! The store still opens on time every morning. Everything is there. I know what I’m doing, and I’m quick about it, even when my neurons are firing through cold molasses. I have to quell that overpowering voice that says to me every morning: “Just five more minutes…” That little voice is killing me. It’s killing all chances that I have of ever getting that promotion. I don’t have the will to quell it that early in the morning. It’s pretty powerful. Maybe I’ll kick it in the nuts tomorrow…

June 23, 2009

It’s okay to cry

This is my mantra as of late. I have spent a good lot of the past two weeks crying. I’ve spent a lot of time being ashamed of that crying, but it’s a release. It may not all be done, but I am calmer now. I am calmer, and I am happier. That could be the medication dosage finally being correct, but I managed to stay calm and even crack some jokes at work today, which I’ve had an incredible difficulty doing. Not being able to crack jokes is akin to taking away air for me. It’s been THAT rough. Things are getting better, though, I can feel it.

I’ve decided that I will NOT be ashamed to cry. I will NOT go quietly into the night. I will still be here. I will still keep writing. THAT is what I like to do. I will still create. I will still be here to contribute. My little corner of the net is pretty small right now, but I’ve got light, and that light will grow as my voice grows louder. I will eventually write a book.

My Mission: Mental Health. If I have to traverse hell and back over and over again to get there, then so be it. I’m stubborn. I’m determined. And I’m done. I’m done with the needless suffering. I am done with suffering without a purpose. I am done avoiding my issues by keeping too busy. I’m here to grab the bull by the horns and make a better life for myself. There’s GOT to be something better.

When I finally *do* procreate (eek!), I need to set a good example to follow. A buffer in the event my own children inherit this faulty brain chemistry of mine. I can hope and wish and dream all I want, but the brazen reality is that this is something that there is no control over. I know that my mom didn’t want this sickness for me. She did not want me to suffer as I have and do. There are things that she did due to her own mental illness that made it more difficult for me, but I don’t fault her for it. I am allowed to feel angry about it. I am allowed to feel like the wrong things were done. And I am allowed to carry the knowledge that yes, mistakes were made. They came at a great cost, but whilst fumbling around in the dark, there’s not a lot one can do. Nobody’s perfect. I appreciate the good that my mom’s done in my life, most certainly. I have for a long time. I haven’t, however, acknowledged how shitty is was being a family member of somebody with mental illness. It sucks. It sucks beyond belief, especially when completely left in the dark as to what’s going on and why. And then when I developed my own “Quirks”, nobody really knew how to handle me. Ouch. But, I still stand by my mom (and dad), and recognize that they did the best that they could with what they had. And it’s okay. It’s okay to cry about it. It’s okay to laugh about it.

It’s okay to just be. And I’m alright with that for the moment.

Now, where did I put the Prozac?

June 22, 2009

Nuclear-Free Zone

Filed under: Reflections — VocabularyV @ 10:15 PM

…Ha ha, yeah, right. I’m keeping the blast radius contained, at least.

I’ve been in slow and steady descent for two weeks now, and it’s kind of sucked. I think that there is a faint glimmer of hope, somewhere. But wow, it’s been difficult. Things are getting a little easier, but I came to a lightning-flash realization today: It’s Time to Leave My Job. I’ve worked at, and loved this coffee shop for two years, but it’s going to be time to move on soon. I just wish I could do it right away like my coworker that just put his two weeks notice. It gives me some time to sit down and sort things out for a minute before I do anything rash.

I came to this realization today not only as he told me that he put his two weeks in this morning, but as I was doing my best to quell the anxiety attack in action on this oh-so-cool midwest summer day. So cool, in fact, that the ONLY way I could have sat outside was naked, in the shade, and lying in the grass. Obviously, that’s a no-go. So, I’ve been hiding in the air-conditioning when possible.

I also realized (especially last week) that my issues are too big to fit inside one therapy appointment per week. That one kind of slapped me in the face, but after a few weeks of going to therapy, and being thoroughly miserable and NEEDING somebody else to talk to later on in the week, I took the bull by the horns and scheduled another appointment. I call it “extra maintenance” to ensure avoidance of a complete and utter nervous breakdown. I’ve had the complete nervous breakdowns. I’ve had the utter nervous breakdowns. The combination of the both: “complete and utter” WILL land me in the hospital. At 26 years old, I’ve managed to stay out, but it’s been fucking rough. Especially over the past year when I’ve met more heartache than my heart could possibly hold. It’s been a whirlwind of a year and a half, and while there’s been lots of good, there’s been an unruly amount of bad. Some days, I wonder how I made it this far and how much farther I’ll make it before I’ve completely lost it.

Mental illness of any sort blows fainting pygmy goats. I’ve said this before, and I will probably say it many times before I die. I will probably be old with grandchildren, and I will tell them this very thing. Some days are a lot tougher than others, and it takes a lot of good to drown out the little bad that seeps in and poisons everything. I wish I could take a month-long hiatus from life to sit down, sort myself out, and regroup. I am not able to do that because there are a lot of bills that need to be paid. My dear and wonderful loving husband drives a bus for the college right now, and while it covers the bills, it doesn’t cover much else. It really just covers his half of the bills. I am not expecting a lot from life. Life hasn’t  given me a whole lot to go on but a loving family and some good guidelines to follow (avoid playing too heavily with fire, be careful of the highly-addictive substances and behaviors. Except the internet. You can quit any time). I guess that that’s all I can ask for. That, and can I get some new brain chemistry? One that doesn’t require a sanity-jolt every day?

There’s a glimmer of hope. I saw it, over there! I’ll walk toward it for now and see where that leads me.

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