I will not run. I will not run.

Why is it that running away always seems like the best option? Don't get me wrong, it by no means is, but that doesn't stop the desire to run the other way when shit goes pear shaped.

I don't know what happened to me. When faced with a challenge I used to excel. I might not have been great at whatever it was I tried to do but the thing was I tried and gave it my all. Anymore it seems like I just shy away and hide. I guess my fight or flight wires got crossed somewhere.

Either way I just have to try and not to run. Running will not solve anything. Running will only make things harder in the long run, the ever present and dreamed about big picture. I will not run is my new mantra, along with today WILL be a good day, although I managed to fail on that on not 3 hours after I adopted it.

Not every day will be a good one. Not every fight needs to be fought. But not every day will be bad either and I can't hide from every obstacle. Balance is what I need. Balance in my mind, in my work and in my home.

So I guess all I can do is take a few deep breaths, a 5 minute break to meditate and calm my self down, and then try and get back to work.

But damn is Florida looking like a nice place to hide for a while.

Things are looking up.

So, it's been a week on the meds and I can tell the difference. Granted it's not a big one and I still expect some pretty big roller coaster rides of emotions until it really gets into my system, but I will take any positive difference at this point.

I am happy. Truly happy and playful. I wasn't not happy before but I didn't feel this...carefree either. The fears and everyday worries that plagued me constantly have drastically declined. I do still have them, they do still pop in my head, but mentally smacking myself upside the skull to stop thinking like that is much easier. I have been realizing my worries earlier as well so they don't careen out of control, snowballing into huge issues. I can tell that my everyday outlook is changing as well. The negative thoughts are making way for much more positive and optimistic ones.

I still have issues and probably always will but I can look back on the last year and see just how bad I have let myself become. This has been going down long before I thought it was. It was so gradual of a change, so slight day to day differences, that I just didn't notice the cliff at the end. Thankfully I was able to grab a hold of the edge before falling and got help before to many fingers began to slip. It was close though.

Lets try this again.

Alright, so this whole blogging thing has been a major fail. No updates in months and really only because I knew if I posted it would be some self-hating dribble and I didn't really want to admit that I was having real issues. Having to type out and then read the shit that would have come out would have forced me to realize my issues and, well, anyone well versed in the world of denial will tell you that that just isn't good.

The reality is however that I have been suffering from anxiety attacks and just general issues for months, since summer really, and it all pretty much came to a head last week. I have realized that I, in fact, can't do everything on my own, I need to actually talk to people besides my husband, and I can't keep shit bottled up.

Truth of it is this is the worst that my anxiety has ever been. I can't remember the last real meal I had and I'm pretty sure that going days without eating anything isn't normal, especially when you don't realize that it's been days because you never actually got hungry. On top of the incessant worrying about little, really stupid, stuff (such as the fact that I managed to convince myself that my husband hated me because I dropped a damn pencil on the floor), the insomnia, and the feeling of a handful bricks resting right where my lungs are supposed to be, I finally admitted to myself that I might just need some help to get through this.

Thankfully I was able to get into my doc. He gave me some meds that I just started taking on Tuesday and already I can feel a difference. Its not big, I had major issues sleeping and woke up not being able to breathe still but when I got news that would have sent me into a tail spin (a whole other set of issues that I am dealing with right now) I didn't. I'm not sure if it was the actual meds or if it was just the fact that my mind knew I started taking them and is doing its own thing but either way I'm not going to fight it. I am still thinking that I might see a counselor or someone who is trained to help someone with GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder, what a freaking catch all name that is, lol) but that won't happen for a while. Right now I am just going to let the drugs help get me back on freaking track.

Basically I am going to try to actually start using this thing again, instead of just looking at the link on my bookmarks and thinking about maybe posting something. I am also going to keep trying to write the story I am working on, it has gotten mostly positive reviews so someone out there likes it. I have been surprised just how rewarding it's been to write like that. Nothing meaningful or deep, but just a story. Maybe one day I will think of something original that I can actually put my real name on it and not just an internet SN.

So it's about two months late but here's hoping that 2010 brings brighter days! or at least more days where I don't have issues breathing then not.

:)

Breakdown for one please.

So...things have not been going that well for me here in the wonderful world known as my life. I finally had the breakdown I have been avoiding now for weeks and yet again I realize just how harmful it is to hold all that shit in.

Short story is - I started smoking again about two weeks ago after hitting a wall and realizing that not only am I not feeling any better but I was now trying to pull away even from my books. I did this knowing full well that smoking is a major hangup for my husband but sadly the smoking helped pull me back on track. Sometimes I really do miss it. On Tuesday I found a major mistake I made at work. A $3k mistake. I have a panic attack on my way home, the first in years, and while I was able to control my breathing the entire time and I didn't pass out it was bad. Really bad. I have never missed my medication until that moment when I had nothing to take. This all scares me so I come clean to my husband who, in what has become something of an inside message for us, thumps me on the head for being stupid, and then hugs me and puts me back together. I really am lucky to have him. He knows just what to say and how, even if he doesn't realize he does.

After that night I have felt much better. Wednesday was rough with having to talk to my boss, but it all turned out ok and I have felt much better since. I really hope that Tuesday night was the bottom of this hole and I can move forward and continue putting myself back together.

All I can really hope for is that when I am ready to check back in, I haven't lost any friends.

I am not a patient person.

Why is it that you can break apart in a matter of moments but the healing and putting yourself back together takes days/weeks/months? Of course if I am honest with myself I didnt break apart in moments, it was a slow fall, but I dont feel like being honest with myself at this time. If I do that I might actually realize just how...broken I really am and I would like to think I am getting better.

Really I am getting better. The physical anxiety issues have lessened a considerable amount. Now its just getting my brain back on track. Or at least on a different track than the one its on now.

In happier news, we are now puppy parents! We picked up the cutest puppy last Wednesday and have been adjusting since, lol. Bear (H wants the name to be Bare ::eyeroll::) is a roadside drop that my sis rescued. We arent quite sure what breed he is, the guesses right now are Lab & Pit. Either way he is smart, sweet, and very much a puppy, lol. Pics when I have some.

I am so weird.

Why take some sleeping pills (alright, fine, it was just a Tylenol PM, but still) and then fight to stay awake? Makes no sense. None what so ever.

On a good note my dishwasher was finally installed on Sunday. I all but jumped for joy. It even does a fantastic job. Who invented the dishwasher? I need to know so I can find them and kiss them. That and the person who came up with Jet Dry. #1 and #2 on my current list of best inventions ever. Lol.

And I made our first dinner in the new house. Yes, its been a month since closing, but I finally got the kitchen put together enough to cook on Saturday. It felt good to get something done. Oh, I didnt even burn dinner. It wasnt anything special, Italian Chicken for chicken salads, but I was proud. Especially because we didnt know how well the oven temp worked. Our old oven ran about 25 deg hot so we had to adjust everything. This one seemed to be right or at least close. We are going to try a pizza tomorrow to test it again.

A minor setback with a pinch of fear

** Just an FYI - I am not writing this for advice, I am writing this for me.**

I have found that in times of stress I tend to withdraw from the world around me. I pour myself into my books and hardly come out to breathe, preferring to live in the fictional world rather then dealing with the real one. Not a very good stress response but hey, its me, its what I do.

Well this past week I realized that I had fallen into that again. Fallen pretty deep. I haven't been eating or sleeping hardly at all (and the little bit I do get isn't restful). I have pulled away from my friends, both online and in real life. I spend all my time reading, even at work.

I am scared because not only did I miss what was happening, and I had been proud for catching and controlling it in the past, but am unable to stop it from continuing to get worse. Also I don't know whats triggered it this time. I can look back on my life and see the moments where I would get like this. I can see what made it happen, even if it was just a yelling match with my mother. Normally it would just be for a day or two then I would get over whatever happened. Only once did it span weeks like it has this time, my senior year of high school when my BFF passed away from cancer.

I broke down and took a sleep aid last night. I feel slightly better today but the rock on my chest is still there, making it hard to breathe. I still opened my online book the second I got to work. I know it will take time to get back on track. I know I just need to take things a day at a time. I know that it very well might get worse before it gets better. But I have never been a patient person. I am angry with myself for being this way and, yes, I know that I shouldn't be. And yes, I know I should be in therapy. And no, I don't plan on going right now.

With all that I also know that I can get through this. I can and will bounce back. It will take time and work but I will get there. As bad as I feel right now I am still miles ahead of where I could be. I believe that you can not know true happiness with out knowing true sadness, can not know true contentment with out also being restless. I believe that you can not live in the extremes of these things but need to live in a balance. I just need to find my balance point again.

Writing does wonders. I feel better now and understand more then I have in the past month if not longer, if I am really going to be honest with myself. It will only get better from here even if I do end up taking a few steps back every now and again.