My brain is a real asshole sometimes.

Now, I know one of the main rules of a blog, especially a new one, is to post a lot. Not an annoying amount, but at least twice a week to keep your name out there. I completely get that and feel like a dip because I haven’t posted in so long.

But my brain just refuses to work in the way that it is supposed to.

I’ve sat down and tried to type, with ideas swirling around my head like mini tornados, but as the words came out, they sounded like something a toddler would have written. So I deleted them all in a fury of indignation, beating the poor delete button until it begged for mercy.

I have been a mess of anxiety lately. With every day that brings me closer to school starting, the noose tightens just a tad more; I am almost positive that I made the wrong decision in which major I chose, and unlike undergrad, I can’t dick around, jumping from one to another. Now, my therapist has reminded me a few times that this is my M.O.—I freak out at the start of anything new, imagining the worst possible situations and outcomes. But even as the logical part of my brain knowing this, the emotional part is sending up white flags in surrender, thinking that grad school was not indeed a great idea and I should instead spend my life at the same job I am working at currently. Of course, that job does nothing to help my anxiety. The minute I drive into the parking lot, I feel myself tense up, not knowing what I will be stepping into. Will I be walking on eggshells so I don’t piss anyone off? How many clients will yell at me about something I have no control over? Etc, etc—you know how it goes.

Add onto that that I am dangerously close to 40 and my life is a shambles. I have literally no space of my own, which is really starting to get to me. Thinking about it, there aren’t even many parts of my life—physically or mentally—that I have much control over. I know that this is my own doing, and if I didn’t get married to an alcoholic, or if I got a real degree right after high school, or if, if, if…there are a dozen of these. And I know that living in the past does nothing for the future, but as I hit this milestone, I can’t help but obsessing over it all.

To a “normal” person, these things wouldn’t be horrible. True, they may bum this normal person out, but it wouldn’t be all that horrible. But for me, it’s affecting every aspect of my life. I have been fighting the depression that accompanies anxiety, but I’m growing exhausted. I want to isolate myself from this scary world. I want to sleep, but I haven’t been able to, and I wake up constantly during the night. I don’t want to hear about other peoples’ issues, and even if I wanted to talk to someone about mine, I know I have no one. I want to shut out the demons. I need the headaches to go away; they haven’t been this bad in two years. I want to be able to produce solid writing again, not whiney “poor me” posts. There’s no way I will be able to accomplish #1 off my goal list if my brain won’t cooperate.

But here I am, still working on the blog. After I am done here, I will go and paint some Kindness Rocks in the hopes that even if my days are sucking, maybe something I create will help someone else’s day be a bit better (I guess that’s the point of this blog as well.)

For those of you with anxiety and/or depression, what are some of your surefire tricks to push past those demons?



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