Sunday morning musings

I woke up this morning crying. Looking deeper, I realized I was grieving for everything this illness has cost me and those around me. I feel guilty for imposing this on those I love. Laying in bed, I watched the guilt and pain and shame swirl around. And then I let it go and focused on scritching the kitty who had climbed on top of me and was furiously kneading away. I let the present pull me away from that morass.

I saw my illness as an aneurysm. My job is to clamp off the many blood vessels that feed the monster: physical activity, art practice, therapy, work stress, home stress, family stress, money stress, PMS/PMDD—so many factors it’s easy to be overwhelmed. Pick one and focus on it…

PMDD

Research shows a possible link between ovulation and PMDD. It occurs to me that there are new medications on the market that supress ovulation for months at a time. When they first came out, I thought it was ridiculous to be on the pill simply to not have to deal with having a period. And it is! But, it’s a very reasonable treatment consideration for someone like me. Next steps? Book an appointment with my family doctor to discuss it. Research these birth control pills online.

Family-wise, it’s a long weekend for us. House cleaning is in order, but needs to be balanced by play, including outdoor time.

I feel myself getting overwhelmed. Just thinking about all the things that need doing, my brain goes into panic mode. So ta for now.

Rising Tide

Now that I’ve developed some awareness around the issue of fear, I’m much more likely to recognize it in my day-to-day life. Right now, I have it in spades—my heart is racing, adrenaline released, on the verge of panic scared. Of what? Every day life. Of making the thousand of little decisions necessary when raising a young child. Of I don’t know what.

Of course, to focus on what might happen next only engenders more fear. Every day, time to sink back into the moment and just do what I’m doing. Eventually, this too shall pass. (Including the fear that it won’t.)

Somehow, universe, I’d really like to learn how to take that energy and use it for creation instead of destruction. At least I’m currently in limbo instead of active destructive mode—hey, more progress! Yay me!

Meticulous kindness, how do I practice that in the here and now? Let’s go find out…

Overwhelmed

That about sums it up these days. My brain has a very difficult time getting organized these days. It’s happened before at various times. When I sit down before a pile of work—rational mind tasks—just as I contemplate where to start first and what order to do things in, you know, prioritize, my brain freaks out. The anxiety builds very, very quickly until it reaches a panic state. I have learned how to stop it from escalating fully: stop, breathe, come back into this moment, and do something else. I can handle individual tasks: pay the rent, write a cheque, whatever. But figuring stuff out, my brain boggles.

I think I’ve moved past the denial stage, grieving seems to be the work of the present moment. I was a National Merit Scholar Honors scholarship recipient majoring in Astrophysics at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute when I was 17. I used to be very, very good at this. Maybe I will regain that ability again, as has happened before. But at least I’ve recognized what’s happening, which is the positive step.

And that’s why I am letting go of who I was and learning to celebrate today’s victories: getting the livingroom cleaned up, successfully planning and preparing a meal. Riding the waves of emotion as they come. Doing a design that thrills somebody. Playing with Brianna.

It does occur to me that most if not all parents of young children feel overwhelmed—I am not alone in that. But my inability to focus on large amounts of technical data and organize it is what makes me disabled from my former profession of technical writer. It’s entirely possible that it will never come back. Given that today, right now, it is not part of who I am (self). I need to learn how to function in the world of this and that. Chop wood, carry water.

Where do I go from here? I really don’t know. Forget the five-year plan, I’m working on 5 minute plans.

Ah, the patter of little feet. Time go be mommy. :)