A Rare Intimate Rambling

Lately I have been feeling some anxiety. Especially on the weekends. I feel I am back to square one and I don't know where it was I thought I was heading in the first place. I can attribute this feeling to a few things:

1. Turning 30
2. Being on the Pill (first time in like 10 years and it really did a number on me emotionally)
3. An important relationship turning out not how I thought would turn out

The combination all hit right around the same time. I'm not depressed, although I do feel sad sometimes. I feel the loss of something I thought I had and shared, but the reality turned out that none of it was true. That feeling of being duped, being used and unappreciated for who I am.... it hurts a lot but mostly it just confuses me. And creates anxiety.

I've never been a pill popper. Even through all I've been through, I've never taken an anti-depressant or mood stabilizer. That's not to say I've never needed one, but I never went down that road, thinking I could work through my shit with tears and a good therapist and supportive family. For the most part, I think I emerged well. Or at least, there is nothing hanging over my head.

But now, I find myself not slipping down the dirt hole of depression - which is how it's always felt to me, a deep dirt hole with footholds on the inside. I have been pretty far down in it, I have stood on a foothold and peered out, and I have stood outside but near the hole, wanting more than anything not to have to get back in but knowing what will put me there. Depression is a dirt hole to me.

No, right now, I feel like I'm on the other side of the field, a part I haven't seen in about a year. I'm on the other side, towards the woods. Just on the border, actually. I have almost no experience in this area. I run because I am scared. I don't know if I'm scared of something in the woods or in the field. So I run along the border. I'm not running from anything... I just know that it's best to run. If I stop and look around, will I get sucked back into the dirt hole? I don't think so, but it IS always on the other side of this field.

When it starts to get dark, the woods look scary, and I know I can't venture in. I also know if I just breathe deeply, I could probably wander in, step on a few branches and hear them snap, hear an owl, and slowly become at peace with the nighttime woods. But for now, I sit on the border, my arms clapsed around my knees, and I try my damndest to make some plans so that I don't have to sit there all night and wonder what's scary in the woods. The hardest part is when there are no plans, or plans fall through, and I discover I've fallen asleep on the border of the field and the woods, and I wake up, still undecided about what to do and still there will be another night like this one and how am I going to go on like this? So I get up and I run again, and I distract myself with phone calls and shopping and work and making plans and renting movies and cooking turkeys and having "new experiences".

I've never been like this. Normally I would be eating ice cream and ruminating over and over and over what happened and just wallowing in my sadness. But not this time.

I have visited this side of the field only once before, and that was a year ago when I was involved in a major highway accident. About four months later, I was diagnosed with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). What sucks about that is that I didn't really know that something was wrong. I knew it was odd for me to avoid thinking about something so upsetting (see above ice cream ruminating), but I really preferred to just push this one aside for a while. At least with depression, I knew I was sad, knew I could barely function, knew that what happened was reason enough for anyone to be sad, and I just needed some time.

With this anxiety bullshit, I have a hard time drawing that line, making a connection from, "ok, this happened, I feel this way, and it's normal for me to have this reaction to that event". I can't do it! With anxiety, it feels like an unrelated chain of events coming together (colliding?) into a brain message that tells me not to sit still, not to think about it, not to be alone, not to relax and enjoy my own company again. That is not me!

I was never a pill popper. I never wanted to get involved with meds, their side effects or any possible dependency. However. I spent a night at my mom's a few weeks ago because I could not stand to be alone and the anxiety was overwhelming. I drink very rarely, but I knew I needed a glass of wine just to stop my heart from racing and to sit calmly and be normal. When a glass of quickly sipped red wine made me feel not woozy or warm, but completely normal, I knew I needed something. And that something would not be more alcohol - due to my family history of alcoholism.

I work in pharmacy, so I knew I had a few choices. I knew I had to make a move fast, because the anxiety was really taking a toll on me. How long can one not eat, not sleep and not be jumpy at the slightest noise, and cry at the drop of a hat? For ME, that's not long at all.

A family member has had anxiety and panic attacks in the past, so I knew she had some pills. I only needed 4 or 5 to get me through the next few days. We cut them in half so the delivered med is 1/8 of what normal people take throughout the day. I didn't want to take them. Even in my worst depression, I never wanted to take a pill. But this became a necessity. During the week, I am mostly fine. Being busy helps immensely. I had always judged those other extremely busy people as people running from something or avoiding something. And why couldn't they just slow down and deal with their shit? Well now I see why. I feel like if I slow down too much, I'll either end up tearing my hair out, crying on my kitchen floor for two weeks or packing up for a month long road trip using only my next paycheck for funds.

Anxiety is a real bitch. I always felt lucky not to have it. In some ways it's better than depression, I am definitely fully-functioning. But I feel less mentally healthy, because I can't draw the line from cause to effect. How does turning 30, going on the pill (which I now believe was the main cause of me not seeing reality) and ending a relationship cause such emotional chaos? Fuck. I've dealt with a lot worse. And I'm certainly not weaker for it. So what the hell?

I have made some long term goals that should be completed within the next 2 years. I will be able to take a solid step towards those in the fall, when I begin traveling. That helps. Knowing that I won't be in this situation forever is nice, and knowing that I will be the one pulling myself out of it is empowering.

Just have to get through the summer.