Friday, May 5, 2017

Mortal Combat: Catlytt vs. Anxiety... FIGHT!

Hello all, 

It's been too long since I have written. We have much to discuss. 

The past few months have been emotionally hard for me. I don't have a particularly good reason, but I have been struggling with my anxiety in a very overwhelming way. To ease the struggle, I have been filling my spare time with bad habits. I've been drinking too much... getting high enough that I cannot function... finding other ways to free my mind and my body from the constant feeling of butterflies in my stomach, racing thoughts, acid reflux, and intense, chronic fatigue. 

So I apologize to you, my dear reader, and myself for not respecting my body and mind as Daddy's priceless treasure and caring for myself as he cares for me. I have sorely neglected my duties. 

They say that bad news always comes in threes. It's been a little over a month now, but I had a week that totally wrecked me. It was a work week, so it was already fairly stressful. Master texted me on a Wednesday morning.

"My mom got diagnosed with lymphoma."

WHAT!? Who texts that sort of thing? So I called him and I was met with an almost disturbing calmness and a matter of fact acceptance(I was crying). 

Reeling from that discovery, Thursday, I got a call from the county jail. One of my best friends had just gotten arrested. He used me as his one call. The man has been going through a horrible divorce and his ex is a witch. She found a way to ruin his life, yet again. Angry and in protective mamma bear mode, I called his girlfriend. I called Master. I was livid that his ex was yet again able to grab him by the balls and do something like this. 

Monday: I called my mom to chat on my way to work. 

"Did you hear that your cousin had a stroke?"

WHAT?! 

"Last night, her husband called us this morning." 

My heart was racing... How could that happen? She's 36! She has five kids and a husband that need her. This is horrible. I got to work at 0700. I talked to my boss. By 0830, I was on the road north. I spent the morning at the hospital with her, her husband, and my uncle who few in from Montana overnight. 

She's alright. Thank goodness. She has a few lasting deficits which are resolving. The upside of this is that she is now getting the therapy that she needs to cope with her life and the massive responsibilities that she is always carrying.

Needless to say, I have been run ragged. Something had to be done...

I completely tapered myself off of my ADHD medication. I have been suspicious for some time that it was contributing to my anxiety (It is a stimulant, after all). This has significantly helped. I've also been very deliberate about taking time, every 2 weeks, to take time for myself: go get a manicure, a massage, something relaxing. It's starting to make a difference and I can feel the tension that has been a constant in my life beginning to unwind like a spring. 

An exciting side-effect of taking care of myself... is that each time I make a decision to prioritize my mental health, it opens up additional possibilities. 

For example, I have been going to the gym. I haven't been consistent enough to really call it a success yet, but I have noticed something that I hadn't noticed before. Last time that I tried to use exercise as a stress management technique, it made no noticeable difference. I think I was just too far gone. When you're in the middle of suicidal depression, lifestyle changes don't seem to help that much. This time, it's different. I actually feel amazing after I go to the gym. I didn't go first thing in the morning yesterday and I had a pretty crappy mood day, until I went to the gym in the evening. It completely fixed it.  

I'm feeling encouraged, for the first time in a long time. Thank you, my lovely readers, for waiting so patiently. 

Much love,
cat


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