Self Care for the Incredibly Lazy

Howdy, peeps!

When last we spoke, I spoke of setting the bar a little higher than shitting on the toilet instead of on the floor. I am happy to report that, since then, I have not shit on the floor. Nope. Not even once.

I really should have been back before now to talk more about this, but… well… I haven’t been. Mostly because I have a mile wide lazy streak running through my soul. I’m trying to work on this, and some days are better than others. Let me fill you in on my bare minimum list of essential to-do items that do help. Maybe some of it will inspire you.

  1. Change your underwear. Even if you don’t shower. Bacteria accumulates in your panties, and a nice fresh pair will help keep the stench down. Also? It just feels nice.
  2. By that same token, put on a fresh pair of pants. Whatever hits your panties will, nine out of ten times, make it to your pants. Or… hell… if you’re in for the day, pants aren’t even required.
  3. Put on some deodorant. I promise you that lack of stench helps.
  4. Brush your teeth. If you can only manage one item on this list, make it this one. Trust and believe you will feel worse when you see the damage caused by not taking care of your chompers.
  5. Brush your hair.
  6. Try to get yourself a little fresh air and sunshine.
  7. Do not, under any circumstances, shit on the floor.

Once these items are accomplished, one of two things will happen. You will either be carried by the momentum they generate and you will engage in other productive activities or, alternatively, you still won’t feel it. In that case, provided you don’t have to go to work, park your ass on the couch and do something to grow your mind. Read a book or watch a documentary.

Hey, regardless of what our friends say, it’s helpful to know about serial killers.

My though process is that learning something new or adding to something you already know is productive.

Also, try to avoid social media. Social media only makes people in a certain frame of mind feel bad about themselves or angry at people they normally enjoy. Why do that to yourself? You deserve better.

Oh, and, hey, remember to congratulate yourself because you did some of the things, and you have the added bonus of not having shit on the floor.

stahp that…

Wow… I haven’t been here in a while. The “write” option looks kind of different. I’m not sure I enjoy it. How am I going to know where/when/how to do stuff? AND WHERE ARE MY OPTIONS TO ADD PICTURES???

Anyhow, I’ve been thinking a lot, here lately, about human nature. I’ve been thinking about this need we all seem to have to placate others, and we seem to want to do so with as little effort expended as possible. Me? I think we should be doing better.

Last weekend, my friend came over, and we drank a lovely magic mushroom tea. After all the intense “visions” phase passed, we sat in my living room, he, in my chair, I, on my couch, and we had the deepest conversations about life and humanity that I have ever had. We talked about personal accountability and how no one ever knows what that means on its most genuine level.

I feel that the act of placation does more harm than good. This need we have to band-aid the thoughts/feelings/experiences of others does nothing to help them serve their greater good. This whole “look at it another way” mentality is a real disservice to our communities as a whole. It really does nothing to contribute to the growth and evolution of the human spirit.

Our roles, as human beings, are to learn how to successfully navigate humanity, and if we’re constantly buying into the notion that we are heroic simply because we managed to shit in the toilet instead of on the floor, how are we growing? There has been indoor plumbing for years, and I think we need to set the bar a little higher.

Absolutely, the topic of mental health comes into play. I don’t like to ignore that fact because I struggle with depression myself, and I can’t even imagine having to deal with something worse than that. Life is a whole lot more complicated than the need for humanity to have a paradigm shift. It absolutely is. That’s why I believe in reincarnation. I absolutely do not believe that there is one soul that is not capable of “getting there,” wherever “there” may be. If you can’t/don’t get it this time around, maybe next time will go better for you.

I don’t say any of this from a throne of ultimate wisdom. I say it as one of you, no, I say it as one of us. I say it as someone who, some days, can barely get out of bed. Some days, I have to remind myself to remember to breathe. Some days, I can take on the world, too, though. Some days, I have the whole goddamn universe in my pocket. It’s important to remember that and not only talk about the things that bring you down.

So think about this for a while and get back to me. I’ll be back to talk more with you.

ch-ch-ch-changes…

I’m reminded of lyrics from one of my favorite songs:

“I’m not quite what I thought I was, but, then again, I may have been more…”

Almost a year ago, each and every aspect of my life not only changed, but changed dramatically. There is not one part of me that wasn’t completely and totally upheaved, rearranged, and left in a big heaping mess.

Some of this was my own doing.

Like my former job.

I had been struggling in that position for some time, and I simply couldn’t do it anymore. Once upon a time, when I did that job, I was able to feel like I was genuinely helping people. Policy changes took that feeling away from me and, subsequently, sucked the joy out of the job for me. It got to the point where I had a fucking FMLA case on file for the anxiety attacks I would have in the middle of the day while I was working. Part of me feels infinitely grateful that this was available to me, but, at the end of the day, I really had to stop and ask myself “should I need FMLA time and drugs in order to be able to cope with my job?” That answer simply had to be a resounding “no.”

So, I left a job I had for the better part of my adult life. I left good benefits, a lot of paid vacation time, great wages, and, more importantly, people I adored. I left for my sanity. That had to be more important.

Some of this was a joint effort.

My long term relationship ended. I don’t want to say too much about that because there are people out there who do not deserve to have this information. All it’s really necessary to say is that this devastated me for many reasons.

Never before had I been forced to walk away while I still was very much in love with someone.

Addiction is a bitch, and that bitch certainly took her toll. In an effort to try not to be an enabler, I stepped back. I thought I was doing that new-agey thing and “holding space” for my love (some of you know what that means. For those who don’t, Google is your friend). I thought I was loving without condition. I thought I was being there without being a nag, preachy, or domineering.

You can say “I’m here for you,” until you’re blue in the face, and none of it means anything if no asking is going on.

All of this was met with accusations of neglect and not caring.

Well… it’s done. Nothing I can do about it now but learn, grow, and move on.

I’m not talking about the parts that piss me off the absolute most about all of this. If you simply HAVE to know, ask. If I feel like talking about it, I’ll tell you. If I tell you as kindly as I can that it isn’t any of your business, try not to let that get you down.

So… Some of these things, I’ve handled pretty goddamn well if I do say so myself. It’s only a year later, and I feel like I can cope, and I feel like I can do better and BE better.

During this process, though, did any of you know I legitimately had a nervous breakdown? No? Well, that’s good. That’s kind of between me and my doctor, but you know, this normal reaction to everygoddamnthing about my life being thrown in a blender, tossed all around, and left in a fucking dirty, nasty heap for me to sort, rearrange, and clean up all on my own (I’m talking about my own, personal, internal and figurative mess) has cost me some relationships I used to value.

I’m sure I’ve let some people down. I’m sure this particular snapshot they’ve gotten to see of me and my life leads them to think I’m not what they thought I was. Well, guess what? This has led me to see that they aren’t what I thought they were, either. There are some “hey kettle” conversations looming that are far overdue.

Diminished in one another’s eyes is okay, but now it’s time to move on, and it’s also of value to recall, at pertinent times, who kicked me when I was down. Not in a grudge kind of way, but in that healthy way of knowing with whom I can and can not extend myself in any kind of meaningful way.

Yes, life has brought me a lot of changes this year. I’m not at the point, yet, where I’m thankful for any of the upheaval, but I’m getting there. Every day, I feel it.

Whether or not you see it, well, that’s on you.

All of the Blah

Well, I’ve officially been detoxified from Effexor for about a month now.

I know I promised updates regularly about this, but… well… I didn’t do that. I guess I didn’t feel like I had a whole lot to say.

Life feels a whole lot more clear now. Some days, this is good; other days, not so much. The thing is… I am coping. I am coping far better than I have any right to, and I am happy about that. I didn’t do this expecting sunshine and roses, so I am not let down.

I can genuinely laugh again.
I can cry.
I can be angry.
I can be happy.

Best of all? I can choose what to do about all of those things.

Quarantine has presented her own unique set of challenges.

I feel angry that I was just getting back into regular exercise at a yoga studio, and now the studio has closed under Ohio’s quarantine regulations.

Now, I could do yoga in my own house, and I have, but the problem is that I don’t yet have suitable space available for this. Doing yoga on my kitchen floor was not very… yoga-fying, to say the least. I mean, I suppose it shouldn’t matter, but…

Working from home… what to say about that?

I mean, don’t get me wrong… I’m incredibly grateful to have a paycheck coming in. You know what? I’m going to leave it there, for now. I’m still working, I get to do so from home, which means insurance is still available to me, and I am lucky because of that.

Social media is on my last nerve. I’m tired of keyboard experts, fear mongering, and division. This whole spirit of “if you do/don’t do this/that, then I hate you/don’t want you in my life/think you’re a horrible person” makes me really really fucking sick. It’s seriously worse than when Captain Cheeto was installed as Grand Poobah of the USA.

I’m tired of being the Rodney King of my circle. “can’t we all just get along?” Apparently not. Not when everyone is right.

State of The Dissy

I’m finding it difficult to share these days. I seem to have fallen back into the headspace of, “no one gives a shit.” It’s not really in a “bad” way, though. It’s more like something I can’t quite describe.

I’m down to 1 twenty-five mg tablet of Effexor per day. I quit taking the Clonidine with it, as it was making me tired.

All in all, I’m feeling like a reasonably competent human being. Every day isn’t perfect, but I feel like I can successfully navigate through what comes my way.

At first, I thought I may want to stop drinking during my weaning off period. I felt, a couple weeks ago, like I was getting a little irrationally angry, but I’m thinking that may have been more PMS related than anything else. I had my once-a-week vodka drink last night, and I was just fine.

Without the Clonidine, the feelings of vertigo are a little more frequent, but they’re nothing that isn’t manageable.

I’m still seeing the shrink. I’m trying to decide if she feels too basic for me or if I’m just looking for an excuse to not engage. I’ve been known to do that from time to time (meaning, every other damn time I’ve spent any time with a mental health professional).

She is heavily encouraging me to look for a new job. The one I currently have is not contributing anything meaningful to my life, and, in fact, it makes me pretty irritated every time I’m here. It’s also made worse by the fact that I can’t exactly cover my bills and enjoy my life on my current salary. I guess we will see what we will see. She seems to have a lot of faith in my intelligence and my ability to do better for myself. Me? I’m fraught with impostor syndrome.

My sista and I have been hitting up a yoga class twice per week. We’ve been doing a yin yoga class and a vinyasa flow class. I’ve done yin before, and I suppose this class is ok. Personally, I think, in order to get the desired result, longer than an hour is needed. But, it’s something fun to do with Barb. Maybe, one day, we can do some work with the dvds I have. You know, after I have space in my house.

So, that’s about all that’s new in my world.

At Least the Stormtroopers Aren’t Coming to Get Me… yet.

Once, a long time ago, I told one of my “doctors” that Prozac was not helping me. For some reason, he decided to try me on some hard core crap. I can’t even remember the name of it, but that medication taught me all about side-effects. I guess some folks out there may have found them amusing. Me? not so much.

One evening, probably about 30 minutes after taking my medication, I left work. After stopping at the local shopping center (shit, are they even called that anymore?), I went about my drive home. I drove under a bridge and came to a stop at a traffic light. As I waited to turn left onto the expressway, I looked into my rear-view mirror.

I shit you not…

I saw a fucking Stormtrooper walking toward me, all business-like with his gun drawn. I mean, not that he’d have hit me or anything… But still… fuh-reeeeeeaky.

This is not The Dissy you are looking for.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shook my head, and looked again. As luck would have it, it was just a dude on a white crotch-rocket wearing a white jacket and a white helmet.

Fast forward to current times and current events…

When I advised my doctor (different from the doctor mentioned above) that I wanted to discontinue the Effexor, she told me she was going to prescribe something called Clonidine to help with side-effects.

Now, when I am prescribed a medication I’ve never heard of before, I go out of my way to dig up ALL the information I can find about it. You know… because I want to know if my arm hair is going to fall out, or if I’m going to grow some testicles from my belly button.

Luckily, the information only said they may cause some hallucinations.

I kind of thought that was bullshit until the other night.

I keep seeing movement around me. Shadowy figures and images. Usually, it’s just the screen door blowing in the breeze or the clock changing time, but for that minute, there is something in the room with me.

That aside, my mood has been excellent. I’m not going to lie and say I’ve been joyous one hundred percent of the time, but I’ve been able to cope successfully with things like anger, loneliness, sadness, and happiness.

I am, once again, experiencing pure, genuine laughter, and, thanks to a bit of flirtation, I am starting to notice other feelings returning. (“hello, lady parts, how you doin’?)

Everybody Loves Joey.

But… that’s where I am right now. Jumping at shadows and gladly interacting with myself again.

On a Partly Sunny Day

“I’ve always known that the mirror never lies…”

I haven’t checked in for a few days. Part of me feels like I really haven’t had anything new to add. Part of me feels like I’ve dropped the ball.

I had my third visit with the new therapist. I’m sort of feeling like she is throwing basic shit at me. Shit that may not occur to someone who hasn’t made it a life’s pursuit of understanding what’s going on in his or her noggin.

But, we will play the game her way for now.

This week, I’m supposed to observe my inner dialogue and see what kind of themes I come up with. Ummm… derr…

I’m very judgy about some things, mostly toward myself.
I’m surprisingly non-judgy about some things most people judge harshly.
A lot of time I’m singing to myself, mostly songs I made up for my dog.
And I’m not the most forgiving person anyone will ever meet. Particularly toward myself.

Weaning off the Effexor is still going okay. Nothing horrible has happened. I haven’t shanked anyone. I still feel mostly tired. I’ve had challenges to my decision. Things have come up that may push me back into a funk or make me unreasonably angry. I feel like I responded at an appropriate level, and the most fun thing happened.

I realized I didn’t even really give a whole lot of fucks about it.

I’m thinking a lot of good will come of this.

I went to dinner with Tama and Mary last night. They took me out for my birthday. I really miss seeing them both regularly and spending regular time with them. I need to figure out how to correct that.

I have a lot of ideas and plans brewing, and I’m feeling very optimistic about the ways life is shaping up.

Today

Every night, before I go to bed, I do a guided meditation with Kim Eng. I have a series on Audibles called “Meditations for a New Earth.” I really enjoy all of the meditations, and I absolutely love her soothing voice. I love that they aren’t super-complicated meditations that ask you to visualize some complex journey/time/place/entities. It’s all very straight-forward. So allow me to recommend this to you. She does also have Yin Yoga and Chi Flow Yoga dvds. Those can be gotten through eckharttolle.com, though, I did find mine on Amazon for slightly less.

As this weaning off of Effexor project progresses, I’m finding a lot of differences in myself that are hard to put into words. Today, the worst thing is that I feel tired. I think it’s an effect from the Clonidine. As for my moods… they’ve been fairly stable. There’s a small part of me that is worried this won’t last, but I am able to successfully not allow that nagging little anxiety take control and ruin my day.

I keep trying to make it to a yoga class, but I haven’t yet. I’ve been putting in some overtime at work, and I also took Daisy-Lou toy shopping this morning before I came to work. She needs a new supply every couple of weeks or so. She flat-out destroys her toys. One day, I’m just going to shut up and get her a Bark Box subscription.

The bouts of mild vertigo haven’t happened today, which is a good thing. Not that they were so troublesome.

That’s really about it for now.

I’ll check in tomorrow when I’m more alert and awake. haha. Hallelujah… it’s almost time to go home and sleep.

Wait What??

Right now, I just really wish I had some chocolate pudding. Jello brand, sugar free, and with the layer of vanilla in the middle.

The other day, I saw an offer someone was extending. For a nominal fee, the person in question will re-blog your blog. What the actual FUCK? I am not down with this in any way, shape, or form. I think it’s one of the purest forms of bullshit I have ever heard of.

“here’s my money, now re-blog my bullshit writing and ideas…”
OR
“I don’t have any money, so please skip over my well-written, thought-provoking blogs.”

Is this the state of blogging these days? The very thought kind of makes me want to barf.

Actually, it really makes me miss MySpace. I had a wonderful blog there. I had a huge following, and when I was shared, it was because people liked, admired, or respected what I had to say or because I had amused them, and the same applied when I shared someone else’s material.

Enough of that…

Day three of weaning off Effexor:

I feel like I’m sleeping a little better, and, emotionally, I feel pretty steady. I’d say “good,” but I feel a little flat. I’m still not falling into any pockets of despair, and I can bring myself “up,” but I sort of feel kind of dull. Maybe it’s because I had to be to work at 10 for a few hours of overtime.

Physically, I feel okay. I do get a dizzy spell here and there, and I get the brain jolts on occasion. I thought the vertigo was going to be more of a factor, as I got a pretty good case of that yesterday. It’s very mild today.

The nurse practitioner I was seeing (who initially prescribed the Effexor) said I was having a hard time sleeping because Effexor is partially a norepinephrine re-uptake inhibitor, which means it will increase adrenaline in your system. It’s a sizeable difference I’m feeling with cutting the dose by so much. I’m sure it’ll continue to improve. I think that’s why I’m sleeping better, and I think it’s decreasing my anxiety.

I need to focus on finding natural ways to increase my energy. I need to get back into an exercise routine, and I need to make sure to eat well. Hopefully, the therapist and I can work out why I seem so neglectful of myself.

Today, I would continue to call this experience good. The telling times will be in about 5-10 days when PMS kicks in. muaaaahahahahahahaaaaa…

Tomorrow is Another Day

Yeah, yeah. I’m obsessed with Scarlett O’Hara. Well, maybe not obsessed, but she is definitely a resourceful woman, and I am infinitely inspired by resourcefulness. When I’m running at 100%, I fancy myself something of a resourceful gal.

Why, yes. Yes I should.

Anyhow, Happy Valentine’s Day to those of you who are celebrating. Lupercalia blessings to those of you who may be celebrating that, as well.

And here we are at day two of the great Effexor detox. I’m definitely feeling it a little more. There are periods of dizziness and lightheadedness. I am also feeling a weird sort of fatigue in my muscles. So far, none of this is particularly bothersome. It’s just there.

I tried to meditate last night, but I kept yawning. I remember yawning a lot when I first started, so maybe that’s going to be a thing for a while.

Emotionally, I’m feeling a little strange. As a whole, I feel okay. At certain points, I feel bad, sad, or angry thoughts try to slip in, and then they just stop, and I’m back to my even-keeled feeling. It’s very strange, to me, because I usually have to put effort into feeling better when thoughts sneak in.

When I woke up, I spent some time petting my dog. Then I sang a song to her. In this song, I reach into her mouth and play with one of her teeth. She loves it. Anyhow, I got to thinking about what a good girl she is because she never bites me, and it reminded me of my ex’s dog and how I was trying to train her to be gentle with her teeth. That, of course, reminded me of the breakup fight. In the act of being a petty shitbag, he told me I was never allowed to touch the dog again. (I should point out that I’ve touched that dog a LOT since then (well, maybe not a LOT, but every time I have seen her, I touch her)). That made me cry for a minute because I loved that dog. It was relatively easy to cry, so progress is being made there.

My Daisy-Lou licked away my tears, climbed up on the mountain of pillows, and she sat on my head.

Bottom line? It’s a good day.