Reassurance

The daily struggles with anxiety can leave a person feeling heavy hearted and sometimes very hopeless. I struggle and battle and succeed and accept anxiety on a daily basis and have been for the past 10 months. There has not been one day in those 10 months that I haven't experienced anxiety, even for just a minute, and I've often thrown myself into the investigatory role, seeking the answers to "why?". Yesterday and today are no different. Anxiety existed, but it wasn't at the forefront of my day. I carried on as normally as I possibly could, completing my goals and tasks for the day. Then, like an animal run out into the road, it was there, and it startled me. The adrenaline continues to resonate, as it did last night and now into this morning.

And quite literally, an animal DID cross my path as I drove, and as I did before, I slammed on the brakes. The opossum stayed put in the middle of the road as my car drove over it, not touching it, sparing it from death. I stopped, dreading that I had killed another innocent animal, only to see it's dark shadow continue across the road. What strikes me as odd with this is I had described the anxiety hitting me as though an animal had suddenly crossed my path. Is this a message? Or just a chance occurrence? I don't know, and I'm tired of speculating.

So I wonder, what caused this animal to cross my path?? What caused anxiety to cross my path?? I think the answer is nothing, it just happens. What reassures me is that there IS no reason, now, because for so long I sought for an answers to only learn that the answer is EVERYTHING. Everything in my life has caused my anxiety to do what it is doing. Everything from over-committing myself to the fights with Jesse to how I ate to the traumas I experienced as a child. Everything is responsible, so now it's time to start the change. I've made efforts in the past, but as usual we gracefully fall back into place of habit and comfort.

My reassurance is I KNOW I won't stay like this forever, although it may be a long long time. I'm not one to just accept that it's my destiny to fear everything and be stuck, in fact most of my frustration comes from how impatient I am with my recovery (a good sign, no?). And while everyday DOES have two handles (faith and anxiety), I am keen to picking up my day by both handles. I have faith in the Universe that I am capable of getting through whatever get's thrown at me. I carry anxiety so it doesn't carry me.

So for today, on this gorgeous sunny, overwhelming-to-the-senses day, I'll take the anxiety as it comes and embrace it. I'll practice my tools for when it gets tough, and I'll still come out of this day alive and well, just like I have for the past 10 months.

Ache

I'm aching all over...in my heart, in my head, in my body....the aching is ongoing.

I feel like the lights have been turned out and I'm forced to crawl through a room of doors, looking for the right one out. I've opened door upon door only to find myself back in this dark room of doors. Now I'm sitting here in this room, wanting to give up and just sit in sorrow on the floor. I'm sitting in this room, I've stopped feeling my way for the exit...I've stopped.

What makes a person wake up feeling like this? What causes this anguish? Where's the relief? I've asked God over and over to shine some light in this dark room, but am I not looking? I don't understand.

My head is pounding....from stress, from anxiety, from holding back the tears. I have no desire to do anything. I'm scared.

Of what? There's nothing to fear but fear itself, and that is precisely what I fear. It's as though I'm experiencing EVERYTHING and it causes me to become very overwhelmed with life. Even the smallest task has become the most daunting; the list of responsibilities is endless and I have no desire to even start on it.

If I only could make a deal with God....

Wasted

If there were ever a thing that I get belligerent on, it's my emotions. My raw, irrational, uncompromising emotions. So much of my life and energy is wasted on this substance; My emotions tear apart my foundations of sanity, they rip my family away from me, they make the ground disappear, they put out the light. And yet, I reach for the bottle every. single. time.

Friday was a big day for me. The first book signing: a phenomenal event. And what did I do? First thing in the morning, I reached for my bottle of "Get Anxious to the Point of Insanity" and took a BIG swig. It hit my head so fast, it took my heart a few beats to catch up, then it was up-and-at-'em with the adrenaline rush. What was I afraid of? I was afraid of the crowd, the faces looking at me, how I was going to feel, what I was going to say, if Jesse was going to have an emotional breakdown. Holy bejeebuz! The list was ongoing. Did any of my fears come to fruition? None but one came to be, and even then, it was a delayed response. Fortunately, I was wise enough to know that I might be having a bit of an issue with such a large, stressful event: I schedule my therapy session the morning of. GENIUS!!! My therapist saw how tense and scared I was and had me close my eyes and walked me through the evening to come, in what's known as "guided relaxation". I haven't felt that relaxed in MONTHS! It was gone! Holy smokes! I'm not dysfunctional! The crappy feelings of fear and hopelessness and wants of ending it all went away! And STAYED away!

Three things I learned that day that I keep in my head to throw in the face of anxiety:

1. It's JUST a Thought. Thoughts are irrational and impulsive and they are designed to come and go. That's WHY we can meditate, that's WHY not all of us are psychopaths (they're the ones who LISTEN to every. single. thought.). So I envisioned my thoughts coming up like clouds, or even storms when they're the nasty ones; but in the end, every cloud goes away, carried by the wind, and just as every thought does, too.

2. A Mental Hospital would turn me away. This has been a big one for me. I've had this terror of ending up in a mental hospital from all this anxiety. It took voicing this to her to finally get that I'd have to be running down Main Street naked, batshit crazy for them to even consider MAYBE I might need to be placed on a waiting list for some outpatient therapy...NEVER ending up in a mental hospital. And in fact, as she puts it, every person she's ever heard express that fear has NEVER ended up in one; it's the ones who don't know they need to be there that end up there (most times, at least).

3. Stress is the #1 Cause of ALL. THIS. SHIT. I'm sitting in my chair, tears rolling down my cheeks, and I'm expressing to her that I'm scared I'll be this way forever. She then instructs me to tell her what I do in one week. So I did, and here it is:

-Work x2 week with a MOUNTAIN of responsibilities (I've come to realize that this is the 5th Child)

-Home, continuously; ongoing marital problems + child rearing issues + animals and house responsibilities + bills = #1 Stressor

-School x2 week, consisting of 10.5 units (which I one handled like nothing before), which recently includes having to orchestrate a 1.5 minute dance, lead a group that is presenting a chapter to a class, finish a photographic project that I feel ZERO passion for, not to mention the financial burden that is still required in needing to buy mats for my final portfolio and more photo paper, and then a final paper on California Government for the elusive online class.

After reciting these lists to her, and by the look on her face, we determined together that my anxiety levels peak when I'm pushed against a wall with responsibilities.

Now, this got me to thinkin'. While the blow-out between Jess and I was paramount to the development of the extreme anxiety, I am now starting to see how the signs were present in the twilight of the event. I recall being anxious about going to SF for a festival, two weeks before, then feeling the pressure about the book deadline, three weeks before; the feelings of dread and hopelessness because I had recently come to the conclusion that ASL Interpreter was not for me, therefore leaving me with no career direction; also not to mention it was the first time we were enrolled in Summer School (BAD idea!); Jess and I were constantly fighting about his alcohol consumption and my constantly having projects. It's no wonder it didn't happen any sooner; I REALLY wasn't taking care of myself, which translated to I wasn't taking care of my family. Work was suffering, school was suffering, my homelife was suffering...I was wasting away by being wasted on my addictions: keeping busy to avoid thinking about everything that I'm faced with now.

Well now I'm paying the price, and I have to remember this. I. am. paying. the. price. Tonight, Jess and I sat down to figure out what our class schedules are for finals week. And, not to my surprise but DEFINITELY to my objection, our finals are on different days, which translates to us traveling to SR at different times, which automatically figured in my head as a recipe for disaster. I've convinced myself along the way that I'm too unstable and unready to drive myself to Santa Rosa, without anybody. Although I have done this before, it was a few months ago and I was REELING from anxiety even after it was done and over with. YIKES! The point is, thought, my immediate reaction was, "I can't do it. It's too hard for me to do. I'll have anxiety. I won't make it. I'll freak out in the car. I'll freak out at school. I'll crash the car from freaking out. I'll be too scared to move. I'm not safe if I'm alone." Soooo....see how damaging believing in irrational thoughts can be? At this moment, I'm feeling a pretty good amount of anxiety, not only over this, but now the anticipation of the weeks to come leading up to the event. Oh boy...I don't even give myself a chance to get it right!

There's this part of me that's strong, though, and it's reaching to everything that I know and everything that I've learned while recovering from this garbage. This part of me wants to sit down, meditate, guide myself through the experience, learn to live with the anxiety, be one with it and let it GO! I can hang on for another year. I can hang on for five years! As long as there's an end in sight, I can do this for as long as I need to, as long as I get out of it as ME, in this life. This obsessive behavior doesn't help anything; if it's all I ever think about, then no wonder it's all I ever feel. I sometimes wish there were something physically wrong with me, so that I had something solid to blame: but I don't, 'cause there IS no cause to it. It's. in. my. head. Always has been, always will be. Just got to remember to breath, recognize that they're just thoughts (and everybody has them), let them go and MOVE ON.

Breath

...in my nose, my belly rises; out my mouth, belly falls...eventually my brain will recognize that I am ok and it's time to stop the rush of needless adrenaline. Countless times I've done this today, and why? There is no reason why...

Admitting that the anxiety is in my head, not caused by an ailment of my body, it a very difficult concept to process. When something like this is wrong, I'll go searching for answers. Is it thyroid? Is it hormones? The only answer that I've gotten and will continue to get is NO. It's in MY head. But what's making my head react the way it is? What makes it take a perfectly GOOD day, where nothing bad has happened, no fights, no traumas, no nothing; just an ordinary day, and turned it into a mountain to climb? I believe in stress causing a great deal of ailments for humans, and at the moment that is the only root I can grab hold of.

I sat down and evaluated my stress and here's what I've come up with:

3-4 hours homes work every day

14 hours work each week

8 hours gone at school

Remainder belongs to the kids (first), social activities (second) and myself (third).

I'm feeling now that even the simplest commitment becomes another mountain to climb, whether it's simply visiting a friend or showing up for an appointment. Another big stressor I wasn't expecting to experience was the stress of success: my book. The big book signing party is tomorrow and I've felt nervous about it for some time. While I know this is normal, I am frustrated by the poor timing my brain has when it decided to tackle another battle with level 8 anxiety attacks. God, how I wish there was a magical pill that would wipe it all away...but if there were, I probably STILL wouldn't take it, 'cause I hate pills! I hate this! I'm soo SICK OF IT!!!!

I'm so sick of doubting myself, remembering times when I was fine and got through scary situations, and feeling like I'm going to lost it! Am I obsessing? Is this what an obsession is? I don't WANT THIS!!! I never wanted this!!!! I just wanted my family to function in a healthy way, not teetering on the edge of alcoholism and anxiety. I don't want my babies to grow up with a Mom this fucked up! I don't want to leave them, yet sometimes I feel like that's the only way I can get relief! I'm so so so so SOOOOO sick of it! I know I can experience normalcy again....but what did I do to get here? What happened?!

The seeds of hopelessness has be planted long ago and I'm trying to kill that fucking plant....how on Earth do I do that?! And why on Earth does every skill I have stop working after a certain point?! All my skills I've used to calm myself down worked great in the beginning....now, it's like they've become dull, almost to the point of being useless. Visualizing "STOP" or saying "I'm not going there" has helped me more times that you'll know....but now? It's like the anxiety grew in the time those skills worked and it waited for the perfect moment to railroad my off the tracks and into the dust.

All I can do it breath.....that's my only option.

War

As more days pass that I get to experience anxiety and the like, the more theories I come up with to help explain their existence. Sometimes I see it as an ascending spiral, spinning round and round, always revisiting those hard moments. Sometimes I see it as a war: moments of calm between the bombings of battles. I've won numerous battles, and now I'm marching my line into the fire, again, battling yet another onslaught of unexplainable anxiety.

I want to let it go and just move on with my life. I can sit here and ask myself "Why" over and over again, but what good does that bring me? I can sit here and doubt my abilities to overcome it, convincing myself that I'll be crazy the rest of my life. But, what I DEFINITELY can do is breath and tell myself that I can handle this and that it, too, will pass. And it does.

It usually starts in the morning, almost at the instant I wake up and remember I'm conscious and that I can start worrying about stuff. Hah! Then I close my eyes and envision myself somewhere beautiful and calming. After a few moments of that, I feel slightly better and can drag myself out of bed and start my day. I've done these things today, and although the tingling, shaking sensations have yet to leave my body, I feel strong enough to face my day.

This war, however pointless it may seem in the moment, I believe is neccessary for me; I ASKED for change, I ASKED to become a different person; here it is! The bridge between the old me and the new me, masked in a fog of uncertainty, fear and anxiety. A friend of mine once suggested that it might even have something to do with when I was practicing opening my chakras. I suppose it is logical to think that sometimes when we have so much crammed inside us and we start awakening it, it has a tendency to lash-out. And our minds, especially in times of change, function in such a way that protects it from those "dangerous" changes. Knowing all this helps me, tremendously.

I know I won't be this way forever. I know I'll be able to do the things I was once able to. I also know that I need to let these things go for now and do what my mind and body need me to do; rest, relax, and take refuge.

Maintain

I'm walking down Main St., Guerneville when it dawns on me I need to visit my buddy Sam and get my hair cut, so I travel to the corner of Church and Main where the ol' Bar and Salon is. You have to walk through this rank, dangy bar to get to what used to be a dual-level laboratory turned to modern slice-and-dice Beauty Salon. I walk in and EVERYBODY is SO happy to see me, kinda like the weird nurses and doctors in the dream sequence scene of Pee Wee's Big Adventure, big red smiles and crazy clown eyes, and yet I can identify everybody! Ahhh!!! SO Sam takes me by the shoulder and plops me into her chair on the lower level, which upon closer inspection one would discover that the lower level was in fact an empty shallow pool. Ok. Anyways, Sam starts in on giving me a TOTAL work over, including sewing fake eyelashes to my real ones, insisting that it'll give my eyes the much needed oxygen that they seemed to be lacking. On my face is Sam, sewing away, and at my feet is Owen, in drag of course, but not his usual dragness; fucking scary, Pee Wee clown drag. Uggh! He's painting my toes with clown-red color and Sam has completed one eye when I've just about had enough! I jumped up and made an escape for my life. I run out the door and all of a sudden, I'm standing next to the Primary Grade building at Guerneville School, and I'm Sheryl Crow. Ok, seriously? WTF?! I start walking down the concrete ramp towards the play yard, in that Sheryl Crow, catwalk style, when all of a sudden the entire yard is COVERED in mud and grass and is completely flooded. Suddenly, I turn into a horse and start romping around in the mud....then my puppy starts howling and I wake up in the MIDDLE of an pretty intense adrenaline rush.

No wonder I was keeping the panic at bay all day!

In hindsight, it's pretty amusing that I would conjure up a seeming meaningless scenario such as this! But I spent a could portion of the day ignoring the voice in my head that tries to hard to convince me that I'm crazy and I should be locked up. When I can't talk it down, I ignore it, so that's what I did today.

Today, the last day of Spring Break; I usually look forward to getting things back on track 'cause that means it's a break from my family and everybody has their respectable places to be during the day. But this year was bitter/sweet, because I finally got to experience that simple life and solitude that I've been desiring now for months; what a quick end to a truly enjoyable vacation.

My favorite things about this vacation:

-Playtime with my babies, especially playing Apples to Apples when the power went out

-Watching the infant sprouts of the beginnings of our garden emerge more and more by each day

-Chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate

-Getting to have the WORST period of my life at home, in bed, not in a classroom

-Time to sew

-Rearranging our home so it becomes just that: Our Home.

-Reconnecting with the hubby in our room, with a door that has a lock on it

-Having a full refrigerator and pantry

-Reading a book that wasn't assigned and FINISHING it

-Watching endless episodes of MASH till the wee hours of the day with my beloved

-Making myself a new bag...yes that's right. This one's for ME:

One of the CUTEST skirts-trajedies turned to new and improved awesome hippy girl bag, that's all for me, me me ME! It wasn't mine while I was making it, but I've decided that I deserve it, after all that work, not to mention just how far I've come these past 6 months.

Tomorrow begins the onslaught of getting back on track, into a semi-new routine, and finding the strength to complete homework again.

Anxiety is...

not knowing what's coming up the path ahead of you

not trusting life

not loving your home

not trusting your loved ones

not loving yourself

not feeling like you belong anywhere

not believing in yourself or that things will be ok

not seeing that there's a less than 1% chance of something horrific happening to you

not believing you can get through the horrific if it ever does happen

not slowing down

not saying no when you NEED to

not trusting in your own ability

not trusting your lifemate

not seeing beyond the fog

not in charge of me

not going to take over my life

not going to win

not a guest in my home...

Before and with God, but without God

"My Lord, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so." - Thomas Merton

I read this today in "The Mermaid Chair" and I found it so profound and comparable to what I'm experiencing. This morning, the anxiety tried to place it's stamp on the day, making its presence known every waking minute. In the past 4 months, I've learned that I have these "muscles" of thought in my mind and for most my life, I've been flexing them in the direction of surrendering to panic and negativity. Since the beginning of my recovery, I've been learning how to retrain these "muscles" to flex off the negative thoughts and feelings and literally swipe it away like the droplets of dew from the fog to a window.

The beginnings of the day are usually greeted with "what if?" and "I hope." These phrases don't help anything, but in fact are my muscles flexing into a negative, anxious state of mind. So today, I'm going to start off with the following affirmations:

"I CAN handle my anxious state of being today."

"This TOO will pass."

"Progress not perfection."

"Anxiety is grounded in emotions, not reality. Remember this when thinking with your heart."

"I am not in a dangerous place with dangerous people. I am safe and am capable of handling myself."

Perhaps much of what fuels anxiety is acknowledging it's even there in the first place! Sometimes my symptoms would get worse when I'd share with others how anxious I was feeling; maybe because I was telling myself I'm anxious and that I'm not stable and am unpredictable. Hmmm....food for thought, today.

"I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth...

....at any tiyeeiyyeeeiiimmmeee!!!! Oooooh Feel Free!" - Alanis Morrisette

Yesterday, come and gone, but still lingers in the air like the smoke from a cigarette. I had an incredibly challenging day yesterday, and sorta felt defeated and released at the same time. My ambitions to try and save this town continue to get stepped on, but I'm like a Bozo Clown; I bounce back harder with each punch to the face.

Community Garden:

To get a community garden together would require at LEAST Four dedicated people to help ORGANIZE it. This is beyond the grunt work of plowing the land, creating planter boxes and whatnot. THis is sitting down, agreeing to terms amongst the organizers and then putting it to action. The likelihood of this happening? Actually more likely than you'd think. It's just a matter of getting people together. But part of me is feeling like "oh shit, you're doing it again." Piling my stuff up TOO high again. Is the group going to rely on ME strictly because I'm the one that got us together? Oye. What to do?!?!?!?

Then there's school. I'm actually feeling excited about going back. I'm getting much better about going to Santa Rosa lately and am starting to feel like my usual, strong and independent self again. It helps tremendously that Jesse is going back to school, so I definitely feel secure. A little nervous about my new classes, but I've kept two old teachers who are familiar with me and my whole situation. I'm looking forward to getting back in the darkroom and making more art! I'm also looking forward to dancing with my girl Tia in HipHop2. I'm looking forward to having something to read, not that I don't read. Actually just started "The Mermaid Chair" and am liking it.

Jesse joined the wrestling team and it already having a blast! I'm so happy that he'd finally zoned in on something that brings him a sense of self-worth and belonging. I love that it fits really well into our schedules, so there' really no sacrificing on anybody's part. And the best part is when we're at school, I have a whole 2 hours to kill before he's out and we can go home. I'm actually pretty excited about that, too, 'cause what better way to knock out homework than to be stuck at school for two hours? I'm also happy about it because it gives me time to go job on the track, which I've been missing. I can even take a shower on campus! Wow, I'm more excited about it than I realized.

SO today there's no definite plans, except for a Historical Society meeting (which I LOVE!). I get to present a brochure I made and get some input. I'm feeling like things are rolling, I just need to learn how to balance on the ball while juggling. Nonetheless, accomplishment is inevitable.

Are these tears of morning?...

...or mourning?

Awakening this morning to a phone call bidding my presence at Funky Monkey in Santa Rosa, where children run like wild animals and parents (already in a heightened state of anxiety) maintain their sanity. The automatic response continues to be from the voice of my agoraphobia telling me I won't be able to maintain my sanity; I will lose it. "What if?" this and "what if?" that. Using my workbook, I have decided to counteract these statements; these useless, terribly untrue statements.

When a situation begins to present itself, I immediately think of how my anxiety can fit into the picture. However, what I notice is I don't give chance to the positive aspect of the opportunity and rather look at it as another instance where I'll be anxious and I will become exhausted from keeping myself in check. And because it exhausts me so, I become unwilling to try and instead find ways to make the situation not happen, creating avoidance. At what point is it avoidance?

Funky Monkey isn't going to happen today because my friend no longer wishes to go. I feel relieved, and yet guilty for feeling relieved because now I'm not going to be putting myself in an uncomfortable situation. Am I avoiding it? Or am I scrutinizing everything? I think the latter.

I read and have been told once a while ago that knowing TOO much about the issues in your head can be MORE detrimental than good, because then you can no longer behave normally; you'll always be second-guessing every decision or action you make. So I try to look back on how I've behaved before this breakdown: if I didn't want to go to Santa Rosa, I didn't go: end of story. If plans with a friend didn't work out, I sometimes felt relief: it's perfectly normal. I also felt anxious about going places but still went and got through it and never scrutinized so much over the little details of everything. It's so unnecessary.

So I'm going to figure out SOMETHING for today, whether that's staying and cleaning the house or going out for a walk with a monster or two or visiting a friend. I don't HAVE to have a plan for the day to feel like it's not time or practice being wasted. There's SO much to look forward to, so I'll concentrate on that instead.

I sure would hate to go to hell...

"...for thinkin' that I was right" - Spencer Bell.

Tonight seemed to be a rather "GODLY" evening. Feeling rather literate I picked up my "Mysteries of the World" book and got some good ancient Christian/Druid artifact and legend knowledge under my belt and was inspired enough to pick up the Annoted Bible Jesse got for his History of God class. Because I felt inspired enough to pick up the Bible for umpteenth time to attempt to read what the hype was all about I genuinely thought I would come across something wise or at least equally inspiring. Oh my, we are a creature asking for trouble, laid out in the fucking Bible! If I had not known what the Bible was and instead picked it up as though I wanted to read a piece of fiction, I probably would have been quite satisfied with the bizarre and unrealistically ridiculous depictions of human and worldly development. So, needless to say, I made it to the 3 verse of Genesis before deciding my brain cells were far too valuable for me to waste on this overbearing, man-glorifying testimony of the lowdown in back in the day. Jesus, save me from your father's book! And I'm sure in time I will be able to sit down and stomach the rest of the 3000 verses, however for tonight, I felt it was much better use to converse with the niece-creature about drugs and God and listen to some of my favorite underground music instead.

Today was probably longer than it was supposed to be, I felt. I had set out to do a few chores in town and it ended taking me twice to time to do half what I was supposed to, leaving me feeling like I'm accomplished SHIT! But I have; my pages are proofread and done and now waiting to be mailed tomorrow, once I finish a few minor details. But that's just it! The details! They're fucking crazy!

So I'm kinda hoping some certain individuals never see that blog post I wrote few nights ago, basically venting about the garbage bullshit politics of Guerneville. However I'm completely unwilling to give up my freedom to speak my mind (and honestly, it's not like it's something people don't NEED to hear, it's just not politically correct for ME to say it), so I'm taking that risk of them seeing it. Oh well.

I am often thinking that this strange thing, the Higher Power, is a key to helping me overcome my anxiety. So much of my anxiety got triggered when I started realizing how little control I have over most EVERYTHING in my life. Well then, what IS in control of all that? There's got to be SOME force behind the wheel keeping things on the straight and narrow. Oh, that's where the "GOD" thing comes in. But I have such a problem with that word; it has such a stigma in my life's history and I'm very uncomfortable using that word to describe something I feel doesn't deserve the stigma. Being of (supposed) Cherokee descent, I looked up the Cherokee word for "God" and found "U-nay Klah nah hey" (Creator of All Things). So "U-nay" is my little name for my Higher Power, for the moment. I identify much closer to the Native perspective on life, creation and the Universe than I do the Christian one.

So maybe if there is a hell, I'm probably gonna be there...only if I believe it to be true.

So tonight I'll leave you with some musicians I listened to tonight....I feel they're share-worthy.

Spencer Bell

MountainDawg

Cookie Bumstead & The Lonesome Space Cadets (my nephew's band)

Talk is Cheap...

...and that's exactly what I can afford.

In fact, talk can be pretty pricey. Just look at your cable and Internet bills: talk ain't cheap and it isn't getting any cheaper.

This picture is a painting I painted last Spring. It was inspired by the Hindu Goddess Kali. I am most proud of her because I felt she reflected the Kali inside me; the very energy waiting to burst out from within.

Deeper thought into the subjects of my mind as of late have revealed to me that it is not a love I possess towards Guerneville, but rather a love affair. Love is unconditional, unwaivering and unbroken. A love affair is raw, passionate, volatile and easily collapsable. And just like in any other relationship, you'll find yourself drifting together and apart throughout your time together. My conclusion of the moment is even if we were to move away, the deep scar of the this intrigued love affair will surely tear parts of my heart this way and that, making it near impossible to feel such a love again.

A sort of rekindling occurred today, making me realize that so long as a select group of individuals never A. Move and B. Die, Guerneville can be tolerable. I'm three days away from sending off the proof pages for the my first published book; a Historical photo book that I and my coauthor spent 6 months working on. It has been months since we've sat at his kitchen table, throwing jokes and insults at one another, all the while learning more history about the Town who's love affair we both share. If there is something I can't get enough of, it's long, stringing conversations about everything under the Sun with somebody who is capable of keeping up with me. So how can I leave?

For the first time in MONTHS, while sitting at that round, wooden table, covered with a lemon table cloth, I had ZERO anxiety. I mean Z-E-R-O. Not once did I even rouse myself like I so often do (just to "test" the waters and see just how strongly I can counteract it). I was focused on the book, focused on photos and on conversation. Nothing from the outside world intruded my headspace; the many thousands of worries I cope with every day were stopped dead in their tracks the moment they hit the door. If I were to pinpoint a drug, it would be communication. THAT is truly MY drug, and when I go without, I am truly ruthless at getting it.

I'm enjoying where my life is going right now. I no longer feel as though we're stuck in limbo, dangling in a net a thousand feet above the ground. Although nothing has come to a true fruition, I feel it coming; the urge to relax and trust in the Universe draped over me today and I was showered with gifts. My family, my friends, myself and a sense of peace.

I've also noticed a change in Jesse: he's happy, he's supportive, he's fun to be around. He's supported me so much through this anxiety crap, and even today, knowing full well I was anxious about him leaving to Santa Rosa, did without my request a courtesy that I needed him to do. I need to remember to give him more credit for this, to help encourage this positive behavior.

Happy "Holy-Shit-This-Treacherous-Year-Is-Over" Day!!!

1-1-11. Tehe, that's fun to type.

Had a good New Year's Eve, full of errands and helping sick people and trying to keep kids and adults from fighting. It was grand! But hey, got to play Wii bowling and watch "Despicable Me" for the 4th time in 24 hours. "Liiiiightbuuuuulb!"

SO let's get into it...When dealing with my anxiety, I usually associate the numbers 1-10 to determine how mildly or severely it's affecting me. So from this point on, I'll be describing my anxiety as a "Level 4" or a "Level 7" in order to help give a broader picture of that day's experience.

For a good chunk of yesterday, I was at a Level 3, which usually requires some deep breathing and a couple repetitions of a positive affirmation, but I had a couple really good distractions to keep me pretty level. The peak of my issue came after Midnight rang and my husband had to drive our friends home 5 miles away. For obvious reasons, I was quite anxious and stayed awake long enough for him to pull back into our driveway, safe and sound. Much of my anxiety is triggered when he leaves, however, being a symptom of agoraphobia, I am encouraged to practice this exercise often to where I am quite comfortable and secure when he isn't home.

Funny, never thought of it before: when he was drinking, he was unpredictable and unreliable. I awoke many nights to him either being gone or yelling for our dog at 3am, drunk off his ass. Ever since I've been back home with him, I haven't been able to fall asleep until he is inside the house. Strange how trauma conditions our brains...

One thing I've noticed is the lower my anxiety level, the less determined I am to actively recover. I think of this as being similar to taking anti-biotics: you'll start to feel better after a couple days and will then want to stop your course of treatment, however by doing so, you may be creating a much larger problem for yourself in the future. Wow, I just came up with that! What a great image, so I'll keep this image in mind when I'm starting to feel like everything is fine and back to normal. The key, however, is to not facilitate more anxiety strictly because everything is fine (hey Moms, does THAT sound familiar?).

Before I began my journey to recovery three months ago, these bouts of panic would overwhelm me and I'd wait anxiously for the sensations to pass and then move on with my life. However with this phase of anxiety in my life, that "finalizing moment" has yet to happen; rather, the anxiety has persisted, day after day, with small "eyes" of relief. Needless to say, it wasn't hard for me to start feeling hopeless and like a victim in all this. The question "Am I going to be like this forever?" circled in my head, like a vulture waiting for me. Then came the torture of looking back to prior days and feeling like what I was once able to do no longer comes to me with the same level of ease (such as going to the store or stepping outside my house) created a lot of stagnant energy. Hopelessness coupled with self-doubt is all you need to really lose your mind.

In Dr. Bourne's book, he describes the specific personality traits that create the perfect environment for anxiety to move right in. Of these, the most persistent that have been my biggest challenge are the "Perfectionist" and the "Critic." These two bitches insist that you're never good enough and WILL never succeed, no matter how hard you work, thus creating the perfect soil and bed conditions for the seeds of anxiety to grow. Statements like "you should" or "that was stupid" are sharp words when dealing with anxiety. Their other two sisters, "Worry" and "The Victim" chime in their two cents as well with their "what if's?" and "I'll never get better." So what's the solution? Believe in yourself and find the courage to change.

Change doesn't come naturally to humans, I think. We're conditioned to stay in our "conditioned state" by the electronic goings-on in our brains. When we start to build newer, more efficient pathways in our heads, our brains see this as a threat and go into overdrive to ensure these pathways fail. It is in this theory of mine that I believe I'm having the persistent anxiety. Also, it's not easy learning how to believe in yourself when you've spent so much time criticizing yourself. The process of dismantling self-criticizm and negative-self-talk is similar to learning how to grow new arms. But if I had lost my arms or had messed up arms and yet possessed the capability to grow new ones, you bet your ass I'd do it.

So in light of the New Year and the human tradition of "resolutions" I'll be following a path in which I'll learn how to love and accept myself for who I am, what I am capable of doing and that I can make mistakes just as gloriously as anybody else. I will turn my "What If's?" into "I can"; I will take my bad thoughts and transform them into positive realities for myself; I will empower my victim to learn that the world is NOT out to get her; I was will show my Perfectionist that sometimes it's the mistakes that enhance our lives. I am the phoenix and I am rising.

First Post: Expanding the Department

I've been wanting to try out this "Blog" thing for quite some time, but haven't because who the fuck would want to read about some whiney blonde in California who's having "issues." Truth is, I think there's something to offer by listening (or in this case, reading) other's experiences with the troubles you may share. For me, I have many experiences and I have many issues. We won't go into them all at once (where's the fun in that?!) but a biggie for me is (if you haven't guessed it already) anxiety.

Anxiety can be defined in numerous ways, from having a tense emotional feeling about something to not being able to leave your house for fear that you might "panic" in public. Anxiety is also defined by the phobias the person experiences, such as the example in the previous sentence, Agoraphobia. Really, any phobia causes us to have anxiety, but the FUCKED up part is anxiety can help us manifest our phobias. Oh JOY!

So now that we've got a little bit of background on how treacherous this bitch really is, let me give you the scoop on me. At the young age of 6 months, my mother once told me, my early onslaught with anxiety manifested itself as midnight screams of terror and an inability to control my "big emotions." As a young child, my parent's divorce and fractured parenting skills helped make Anxiety my best friend and for years was unable to sleep by myself. As a teenager, the "fuck-it-all" syndrome hit me steadfast and I became pregnant at 17 and kissed my freedom years goodbye. I hadn't thought about those horrid nighttime attacks until I had my first major one in Junction City, Oregon on I-5. My husband, my 4-month-old son and I set our sights on the Emerald City to start our new lives together, later to find that we were traveling far away from any sort of real "home." Being 18 years old and not knowing any better, I drove 10 hours straight with no breaks. Let's just say, my body was mad at me, and Anxiety took the wheel. That night began my continuous onslaught of battling what I defined as "traveling anxiety."

Most recently, however, I've come to learn, through books and my Mental Health professional, that I have suffered (and sometimes not just me) from Agoraphobia. Only mine was quite mild, since I was still able to leave my house and interact with people in public quite effortlessly. As you might have guessed, this has changed.

The Blow Out. The only memory that doesn't hold gut-wrenching pain of that day is my husband and I holding hands on the skating rink, holding each other up (as we so often do) and smiling. The rest of that day....well, I wish I had a time machine. The details are not important, but what happened that day was the day the I hope couples NEVER have to go through: crossing the line. There are many lines in a relationship: lines that get you upset, lines that hurt you, lines that betray you, lines that break you up. That day, these lines weren't just crossed, they were butchered, beaten, and slain (metaphorically speaking, of course). The end result is a shattered foundation that was once sound, strong and seemingly-unbreakable. When you lose all matters of reality in your life, you start to kinda lose it.

So lose it I did. It got harder and harder to leave home and venture out in the world like I used to, and when I would, Anxiety took hold of the wheel and drove me on crazy, twisting up and down roads. I tried battling her with pills: that just tranquilized the beast; she eventually woke back up and started her rampage again. I spoke with some friends who, unbeknownst to me, had similar issues and discovered that I'm not alone and that there ARE ways of getting back home out of this dark forest. I also learned of a book: The Anxiety & Phobia Workbook by Edmund J. Bourne, Ph.D. So far, this is the only book I've read on the subject, because I think it's the only one I'll ever need to read.

This week marks week #10 of active recovery from Agoraphobia. This is also the best I've felt since the Blow Out. I felt the urge to begin this blog because my normal journaling is moreso a conversation with the Universe, rather than an expressive log, such as this. And I can't write as fast as I can think, so I tend to lose a lot of thoughts that way. By no means am I doing this as a commercial effect on my life: this is purely part of my recovery towards being a healthy, happy, mentally-sound person.

Being stubborn by nature, I refuse to let this overcome my life. So journey with me, if you will, as I take you into my world.