Tag: stress

tempest.

.Reading time 3 minutes.

As I have mentioned before, I use a pseudonym to stay anonymous on this blog, and that name is Tempest. This of course, comes from Shakespeare’s play, The Tempest, which starts out with a pretty fucked up magical storm. I picked this name for a pseudonym because more often than not, I have a pretty stormy personality. It usually applies more to myself than to my situation..until recently. Because damn, if I’m not in a storm right now.

I have written quite a bit recently about my move from the dirty South up to the Northeast. It’s been a bit crazy, and I have definitely gone through a whirlwind of emotions. I’m sad to have left behind the place I’ve called home for the last several years. I almost feel guilty for leaving my friends, even though I know I did it for the right reasons.

I know I’ve said it before, but holy shit I’m terrified that I’m going to just fail and fall flat on my face up here. I don’t know if I will really meet people, people that will have my back. Knowing coworkers is one thing, and I have some great friends that I’ve made over the years that started as coworkers. But what if I don’t meet anyone that I can really connect with? What if I make the same mistakes with friends and relationships that I’ve made my whole life? What if I end up not only alone, but ridiculously unhappy?

One of my biggest fears is feeling like I will never really fit in anywhere. That I will always be the odd one out. I will never truly belong.

These are the thoughts going through my head during this uprooting. These kinds of thoughts, on top of the fact that I am still trying to get settled, spending a shit ton of money on furnishing a new place, and trying to find a groove in general. It’s a lot. Oh, this is all happening whilst I am still working my old job and my new one, by the way. I’m hoping there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully I will start to see it soon.

change.

.Reading time 4 minutes.

I suspect I will be posting a lot more in the coming weeks, since I have so much change ahead of me and will need to go on a few rants here and there.

Tonight is my final night in Atlanta. Phew. It has absolutely not sunk in yet.

I have been reflecting today on how I want to use this upcoming fresh start to my advantage. I have this golden opportunity to start brand new, and to really be the person I want to be. The question is… who the fuck is that?

To tackle this question, I’ve come up with three main focus areas for my new life.

One of the problems I find myself running into is that I don’t really know how to let myself let go sometimes. I am lacking a chill zone. I like to plan, I like things to go accordingly, I like when things fall into place. But the thing about life is.. it doesn’t really like letting that happen. And then I end up stressed out, anxious, worried, pushing people away, getting myself into a funk and… for what? Step one in new life: Chill. The Fuck. Out.

Another recurring theme in my life is my problems with interpersonal relationships. I used to think this was just romantic relationships, but I have recently realized I have issues with pretty much all relationships. I am great at making friends and being very social, but I am not so good at connecting with people on a deeper level. This is partially because I keep a pretty solid wall up to protect myself, which does work but… while it keeps me safe, it also keeps people from being able to get to know the truly weird and wonderful me. Step two in new life: Be who I really am, and if people don’t like it they can suck it. 

The third step is the hardest. I am deathly afraid of ending up alone or not being cared about. I say I am happy being single, and in a lot of ways I am, but in many ways I feel like I’m always looking for that next great love. However, I also know that before I conquer steps 1&2, I am not ready for it, and all I am doing is setting myself up for failure if I try to force it. I. am not. ready. I know that. I can’t let things flow, I am not open. As mentioned above, I know this, and am ready to take the steps to get there, but logically, I need to be alone. I need to be alone to experience my life and what I want out of it before I try to bring another person in at that level. Step three in new life: stand strong by myself, for myself. 

My next post will be from another state!! Woooo!

xoxo, Tempest.

departure.

.Reading time 3 minutes.

So hey, I’m moving in like.. 3 days. When do I get to FULLY freak out? Now? Is now okay?

Realistically, I have had about 1.5 solid panic attacks this week. One real good one, the other I was able to catch and kill before it really took hold. Now, as I sit here and wait for Salvation Army to come pick up a ton of shit, I am finally starting to feel a little tiny bit okay with everything. It is definitely going to be really hard the next few days, but I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And with that, I decided maybe it was a good time to jot down a few reasons to be excited! Read More

mom.

.Reading time 5 minutes.

When I started this blog, it was meant to be a release for me… a way to get things out and off my chest. For the most part, I’ve done that, but I have been holding off, for one reason or another, on writing about a very important sad hurtful tough emotional subject, which is my mom.

My mom passed away in 2013. I had just turned 27. I had just gotten divorced. I had just watched my mom battle with and eventually lose the battle to cancer. I wasn’t there when my mom passed away, because I lived about 7 hours away. In the days before her passing, my mom was put on hospice, so we knew it would be coming fast. I had planned on coming up that weekend to be with my family, but something in my gut told me to head out early. I was on the road, about 3 hours into my trip, when I got the call from my sister with the news.

The hardest thing about my mother’s death actually wasn’t the part where she left this earth. It was the months and years preceding it that she spent.. leaving. My mom had a rare blood cancer that caused a lot of organ issues, including kidney failure, resulting in the need for a kidney transplant, and bone pain. Patients typically lived 3-5 years. My mom lived survived 8. I can’t say lived, because after a few years, when the pain began to become more than she could deal with, she spent most of her time in bed and on various pain medications. It became hard to deal with the situation and seeing her attitude and personality change.

There are a lot of things that happened in those years that have shaped the person I am today, some good and some bad. I hate that sometimes it is hard to remember the good, because so much of my adult life was spent with the bad. Nevertheless, when things get tough, I can’t help but be reminded of my mom’s spirit and how strong she was for me before she got sick.

My mom had a spirit that couldn’t be tamed. She was the strongest woman I knew for most of my adolescent years, even though she had her faults. She was always ready to face a challenge and find ways to overcome them. As an adult now, I often think back to times in my life when my mom shouldn’t have been able to pull off the things she did. She left home young, got married and had kids young, but still managed to achieve her career goals. When money was tight, she still found ways to give everyone in my family extravagant gifts at Christmas. When her credit should have been shot, she still found a way to keep a roof over our heads. I know it had to be tough and she had to be stressed out, but we never saw that, and she always came out okay.

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It’s been almost 4 years since her passing, but I still find that in certain situations, there is nothing more that I want than to be able to call up my mom and just talk. I hate that in the last few years of her life, I couldn’t always do that, because of the toll her condition and the medication had taken on her, and I wish nothing more than to be able to have those pre-cancer years back.

Right now, I’m going through a huge life change, it is definitely one of those times that I just want to talk to my mom. To ask her, what would you do, what should I do?  To vent about the things that I’m sure my friends are sick of hearing about, but the kind of things that moms never get tired of listening to. To share in my success in my career. To show her I’m working hard to become a woman she would be proud to call her daughter, every single day.

tempest.

PS. If you can call your mom, hug her, tell her that you love her, go ahead and take a moment to do so.

anxiety.

.Reading time 3 minutes.

I’ve mentioned my anxiety maybe once or twice already on this blog… I think. Over the past year or so, my anxiety has peaked, but this has caused me to come to terms with it and recognize where it comes from. Now, when I say “anxiety,” I am not talking about that normal, anxious feeling that everyone gets when they’re stressed out. I’m talking about Generalized Anxiety Disorder. It’s a thing, people!

I was only recently diagnosed with GAD after a series of really bad panic attacks. By the way, if you haven’t had a panic attack before, that shit is terrifying. Heart racing, sweating, blacking out and running halfway across your house before you realize what’s going on.. it’s scary. After talking to a counselor and finally a doctor, they confirmed that what I’ve always thought of as a high strung, super Type-A personality was in fact signs of having GAD. A LOT of things finally clicked.

Since then, I’ve worked really hard to recognize what causes my anxiety to peak, and deal with it however I can. I am often attacked by what I call the “Anxiety Monster.” This is when my brain decides, “Know what? Fuck reason, we are going this way today!” And I decide that the person who hasn’t responded lately has probably been abducted. That pain in my side is clearly a deadly condition. And, yeah, my curling iron was probably left on and will inevitably burn the house down.

Also a note here, it is extremely hard to have strong interpersonal relationships when you struggle every day with anxiety. Listen up: if you have anyone in your life that wrestles with this, understand that is really something that is hard to overcome, and while it may be almost impossible for people without anxiety to understand… try. It means the world when you do. I’ve tried to start showing people I care about that I appreciate when they try to understand, or make concessions when they know the monster is rearing it’s ugly head.

While I don’t think that this is ever something that can be “beaten,” I do think I am making some progress. I’m trying to be better at communicating how my brain works (which, even I don’t understand half the time) with the people I care about to maintain friendships and relationships. I’ll keep working at it and make sure I keep the people in my life that are willing to understand and meet me somewhere in between.

Until next time, please excuse me while I make sure my flat iron is unplugged.

xoxo, Tempest.