Heartless Fiend on a Sleepless Night

STRESS! Stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstress

stressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstress

stressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressstressSTRESS!

Nothing really stressful happened until around 6:30 PM, but for some reason every-day life got the better of me today. Clearing crap off of Megan's (my) computer took so much emotional concentration. It drained me, which frustrated me, which put me in a bad mood for the rest of the day. The hard thing about frustration is that it's really good at masking other emotions, so it's hard for me to figure out how I really feel after one of these episodes. It's four in the morning and I'm so empty that I'm not even tired. I have to force myself to think about how I felt today because I'm not sure. All I know is while I was signing up for a gym membership, the guy in the office offered me a free month to help ease my immediate financial burden, and then I had a panic attack. It was really short and super pathetic.

Sometimes I feel like people think I'm putting on a show to gain their sympathy. As nice as Joe was, I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm crazy (a lot of other stuff happened and our 30-minute consultation turned into an hour-and-a-half-long MESS). Or super manipulative. I'm sorry that you feel that way, Joe. I assure you, my erratic behavior is a result of my being emotionally disturbed (that's not crazy, right?). I am seeing a therapist, though, so I might not even try to kill you in your sleep.

Yesterday I ran out of gas on the freeway. It was odd to be trapped alone inside my car as the traffic whizzed eagerly by and Cornelius (my car) trembled in fear. The isolation and the danger and the time issue should have cause me considerable distress. It didn't. I tried to sort through my feelings, send a little brain man to thumb through the index cards I have on file in a rusty old cabinet and tell me exactly what it's like to learn that a final is two days sooner than it should be and to lose all hope of being seen as a punctual person and to have reckless semis zoom within feet of my head. I guess he didn't get the memo, though, because I was just as blank then as I am now. This makes me feel crazy almost more than anything else. Here I lie, calm, collected, wide awake, with not a care in the world, while somewhere just below the surface is a soul-sized knot of worry and fear and gross emotional smoothie. I guess it makes me feel crazy because I'm so out of touch with myself. I'm so not in control.

There are moments like the one at Anytime Fitness wherein everything explodes out of me at once for no reason at all, and then there are times like this when I can't seem to feel anything, not even the horrific panic that sometimes paralyzes me. I don't know whether this is just my brain trying to make up the difference, but I don't like it.

I mentioned earlier that I'm afraid of losing the battle, of losing myself in the sadness. Well, I don't want to lose myself in apathy, either. Just make me a robot. At least that way I can shoot lasers out of my eyes and be much better at math.

The only other thing I really did today was a spot of visiting teaching, and thank the Lord for that (the visiting teaching, not the utter lack of productivity). I have to admit, I thought that I could get along with Sephra because she is quite an agreeable person, but I never thought we could ever really be friends. She just didn't seem like my type, you know? I am SO happy to say, however, that we have quite a few things in common! For example, we're both bookworms who suffer from college sucking all of our leisure time out of our schedules syndrome, AND we both love British TV shows! I'm so glad there's another Doctor Who fan in the ward! There is no bond quite as strong as the one forged when nerds discover another nerd's deepest nerdy nature. Here's hoping for a never ending friendship!

I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father who knows me and who loves me enough to answer my prayers. It's kind of awesome to take a step back, away from the demands of life, and to discover that I have just exactly what I need. I'm in a really difficult situation right now (though I found my calendar, so I'm confident I'll screw my head back on soon). Even so, I've been blessed with the right people and the right circumstances to see me through. Basically, God is my Q and He's given me some pretty freakin' sweet gadgets because He wants me to 007 these shenanigans, minus the booze and the killing people.

This is good- the stony surface has cracked and a trickle of hope is shining through. I feel a bit better (but still NOT TIRED! Kill me!).

Anyway, Jim Dale and I have a date. I'munna see if he can't maybe put a little spell on me and read me to sleep. Fingers crossed!

~~~

Recorded 4/27/10

If this is me as an insomniac, can you imagine me as an alcoholic?

Briefly

I was cast as the nurse in Romeo and Juliet!

Whoo!

This is my first real part in a Shakespeare show, it's kind of a huge deal to me, and I couldn't be more excited! My therapist will be happy to hear that I have something to work toward. I'm SO HAPPY that I have something to work toward. Someone thinks I'm talented! That means so much to me!

It's a-fixin' to be a good summer.

:)

Ready, Set...

I went to see some kind of therapist today (not sure whether he is a psychologist or psychiatrist or what the difference is), and I don't know why I didn't do it sooner. It didn't take him thirty minutes to diagnose and put together a rough treatment plan for me. Turns out that when you let anxiety issues go unchecked, they can develop into severe panic disorder, general anxiety disorder, and mild depression (adjustment? Adjusting? Something like that). So that's the official word.

As hard as it was to walk into that office, fill out that paperwork, and actually see the man (I'm sorry, his name escapes me and my toes are too cold to come out of hiding, so I can't super sleuth and figure it out), I feel better now. Better, even, than I felt after my visit with Nancy. The thing is, all this time I've been battling some huge, imaginary creature that existed only in my mind and my most terrifying moments. But now this thing has a name (or three). It's a reality, a thing, an object, a conquerable and visible foe. And now I have a professional on my side who can help equip me with everything I need to keep my sanity in check.

I set up the next four appointments (all the way through May), I signed a fee waiver form, and things on this end seem to be looking up. I just really, really, REALLY want to get better. This was the first step in the right direction that I think I've taken in a long time.

On that happy note, I kind of wanted to DESTROY everyone in UVU and its administrative process today. It took two hours for someone to tell me that although the school made a mistake, it was too late to fix it, so now I have to pay $216 lest I won't be able to register for any other classes ever. I don't know where I'm going to find that kind of money. I do think the Lord will provide (see? Positive thinking. I can keep that up.. I hope).

What a crazy, emotional day. Lou and I ate ourselves sick at Fuddruckers in an attempt to drive away the jitters and the frustration and the anger along with the hunger. It mostly worked (largely because neither of us had eaten all day and the food devoured our unrelated grumpiness). I still felt a bit blue when we got home, though, so we took some blankets out into the back yard and napped there in the weak April sun. It was hard to be moody, all curled up under a down comforter and the perfect blue sky while Ingrid Michaelson and pear blossoms drifted through the air. I fell asleep (and squooshed my food baby) for a good hour.

The main thing that I recognized today is the importance and power of a good support system. It's okay to have a few really good friends and a lot of understanding acquaintance-friends. Depth is important, but breadth is so comforting when it seems like I need to go home and rethink my life. This way, anywhere I fall I have someone who will stand beside me and help me scrape myself off the pavement.

Today kind of sucked, but there were some really good moments. My room is clean, my mind is clearer than it has been in months, and I feel like although I'm just getting started, I'll get there eventually. And I know that I have some great friends who will comfort and guide (and feed) me along the way. That's a pretty good place to start, if you ask me.

~~~

Recorded 4/22/10

Parking Lot Happy Thoughts

I skipped class today. It was the first time all semester that I didn't go because I didn't want to go, the first time I let my reckless, irrational self overrule my spineless, guilty (yet responsible) self. Remorseless. I don't know whether that's because this illness has robbed me of my moral compass, or whether this is a sign of some small triumph. I hope it's the latter. With all my soul I hope I'm not losing my way. the thing that scares me the most about my current condition is the possibility of interference- it's already messed with with my head. What if I become so messed up that I can't feel the Spirit anymore? But maybe that's just my poor damaged brain talking.

It feels good to turn my future over to someone else, to not have to make decisions that could impact me so negatively. I saw a school counselor today (Lou took me. I would have bolted if she hadn't pinned me to my chair). Nancy was very kind and understanding. She helped me sort out this semester and with a few swift mouse clicks, set the rest of my life in motion. As silly as it is, this one little thing, this moment wherein I let someone else take care of me entirely made me feel so much better about the path I've chosen. I still have this suffocating weight squeezing the life out of my chest, but something about me is now fixed, set in stone, solidified. That one small measure of calm is like an anchor. It steadies me. I feel like this long winter can finally end, like I can return to the summer of my life. The sun is warming the earth and the Lord is brightening my future.

This isn't a magical end-all answer. I still have so much to do, even before the end of the semester. I haven't been cured, by any stretch of the imagination. But now I know that it's possible to take one small step. I have been led into a brighter patch of the world, one that leads to a bit that is brighter still, and from there things will be alright.

I don't spend much time being sad. I think that's part of my problem. I can't deny this emotion any more than I can stop myself from being happy. One of my other fears, though, is getting stuck in the sadness.

The parking lot has emptied around me.

A beblossomed breeze whispers in through my open window.

My new cardigan smells deliciously like Kohl's.

I think I'll go home and open a can of peaches, maybe have a bit of toast.

~~~

Recorded 4/19/10

Breakdowns and Breakups

Lou is a good friend to me. She's honest and open, she cares about my well being, and she makes me want to be a better friend (not in a bad way).

Also, we can watch The Swan Princess as a sing-and-speak-along. That's pretty big.

Deep- expansive, fathomless, reaching, inviting, enigmatic.

Enigmatic purple sky stretches tantalizingly beyond my comprehension. It's like the night holds some great secret, whispers of it caught on the breeze or in the shimmering of the stars.

Drained. Robbed, really. Tell me, are you overreacting or has my heart turned to stone? I don't feel guilty.

Went way out on a limb, risked everything to reach for you, lift you up. Maybe your tears clouded your judgment, I don't know. Total refusal of my proffered hand seems irrational at best.

Gimme a break, it's 2:30 AM.

~~~

Recorded 4/16/10

The Best Day of the Week

Have Sundays always been this awesome? If I had a day like this every week, I wouldn't be having such a hard time.

Man, Lord sure does know His stuff. Today I skipped out on singing for another ward (though I listened in on the talks), taught the Relief Society lesson, and held choir practice right after Sacrament Meeting. It was a TON of stuff to juggle,and I nearly gave up on it. My trust in the Lord somehow overruled my anxiety, though, and I am so grateful. I am miles away from yesterday, and I never want to go back. Certainty and peace and love flooded through me at every turn. I can't contain my joy!

The bishop gave me three tickets to conference. I'm taking Shell and my dad. I've never been to a general session, so I am super excited! We'll be sitting where our nosebleeds will get nosebleeds, but it doesn't matter because we'll be THERE!

I couldn't express my gratitude for today it I had all the time in the world. It's like my heart has been zapped back to life, like all of the color and sound have returned to the world. I don't know what tomorrow will be like (I am performing a scene and I'm not memorized yet), and to be perfectly honest, I'm afraid of feeling miserable as I have been for the last few weeks. But in my ever-changing world of influences and decisions, the one sure thing on which I can always depend is the Gospel. I've heard it said a million times, and I'll say it a million more because right now I can't be sure of anything. Last night, however, when I opened my scriptures, though the words meant nothing to my angry and impatient mind, an undeniable confidence in its truthfulness reverberated through me. Every minute of every meeting today was filled with that same indescribable, palpable happiness. Whatever I do, however I feel, I will always know this church is true.

~~~

Recorded 3/28/10

When It's Quiet in the Kitchen, My Mind Is Abuzz

Somewhere in the middle of my internet perusings, I realized I was home alone. I looked around, slowly taking in the scenes- vignettes of a temporarily abandoned life. Tape dispenser and sheet music, half-empty mug of milk; counter full of crepes and dishes; backpack, contents spilling out on the floor. They wait, perfectly still, silently anticipating the moment when life and object occupy time and space together. I felt out of place. Then loneliness occurred to me, matter-of-fact. Another vignette. I could sit, statuesque, patient. On hold. Solitary. Waiting for life to come my way.

I bothered Lou until she couldn't handle it. Minor panic attack. Unfocused, scattered thoughts then, suddenly, shallow breath, tunnel vision. No. Not now. I won't give in to my anxiety. And it was gone.

I know who I am. I know what I like to wear, what kind of music I like, my favorite color, what I can cook best, how to talk to people in sticky situations. I know what makes me happy. I have religion in my life. Things are about as stable as one can expect for a twenty-one-year-old college sophomore. But in these moments of absolute stillness, of being thoroughly aware of my situation, I feel lost inside myself. Disconnected. Isolated even from my best friends, from my own mind.

Popcorn- friendship food. It's hard to eat a whole bag alone, so this one took pity on me and left half of the kernels unpopped. Dysphoria, it transpires, isn't allergic to popcorn. It won't die easily.

There's something wrong. It might be me, or it might be my friends, or it might be me. I can't shake this feeling. I've changed. Last summer was bliss. Single, happy, doing everything right: church, school, travel, family. Scripture study- real study- every morning. Beauty in everything I saw. This year is the polar opposite. Nothing has changed except me. I can't feel what I used to. Not the same way. This is what happened: my emotions fancy themselves identical twins, and they've decided to try a swap. Anger for love, sorrow for ecstasy. Very funny, guys.

Maybe it's more like my chest is a blender, and the incessant churning is actually an emotional smoothie in the works.

I hate not being in control of myself.

I chose happiness, which responded with indifference.

My fingers are numb. Vignette: chilled green water, expectant paint brushes, hopeful paper plate, unfulfilled acrylic bottles, yellow towel. Jim Dale prattles on, unaware that I am barely listening.

Lost inside myself- life lives itself. I am a spectator. I watch it go by, watch its confidence (I am so unsure).

Look, I don't know what I'm saying anymore.

~~~

Recorded 3/27/10

The Day I Lost It in Salt Lake

FHE today-went to Salt Lake, obscure caravan of cars. The rain, so uncharacteristic of the springtime weather, drizzled over roads, over cars, over minds and moods. Lighthearted conversation in the back seat. Buzzing, buzzing small talk, information, life plans, stories. My brain overloaded. My body overreacted- nervous, angry, frustrated, sad ball of energy and anxiousness filled my chest, overflowed into my eyes, into my throat. I didn't cry (it was a near miss).

Parking garage- possible death trap. Endless maze of ramps and turns and cars and pillars. Everything echoes, everything is swallowed up. Maybe I'll be swallowed up, keep driving into the very bowels of some monstrous concrete demon, never to be seen again. We stopped on level 3. "Maybe next time," yawns the beast threateningly.

Elevator. So many bodies. Moves so quickly, so many sick faces. My stomach dropped out around level 1. Confusion, noise, panic- panicked laughter. Back down to level 1. Hello, stomach. Nice of you to catch up again. Care to join us? No vertigo. Good. Empty elevator.

Lobby- awkward. Social situations aren't my forte. Gaze out the window (stunted window- robbed of its potential, denied the possibility of ever swinging wide again. Locked, trapped, stuck) at the magnificent temple. Castle. Palace. Stretching high into the heavens, bridging the gap. Mottled by the aforementioned rain. Stained. Beautiful. Perfect. Peaceful, even by sight. Quiet chat. Bad memories- not mine, but important. Announcement. File slowly into theater. Bodies. Confusion. Hesitancy. Family? Ward? Politely inclusive? Let's sit over here.

More announcements. Beautiful broken English. She'll be writing home to her family this this week. The lights dim, the bodies hush, though minds keep whirring- I can almost hear them. Red velvet curtain slides back, doors close automatically. Music swells. Movie begins. Something stirs inside me. Why am I crying before the movie has really started? Silly. Lame. Pathetic.

Pain, ridicule, torment, death, hardships. One man, one people endured so much. So much, they cracked, they broke, they died. Bodies aren't people. Bodies break. Strong people, people of the Lord, survive. Joseph Smith died- murdered, martyred, shot dead. He survived his test. Good man. Great man.

Something inside me stirs. God knows me. He knows what it'll take to make me break. But He wants me to be strong, to be brave, to endure, to live through. He gives me what I need. Christ was broken, beaten, crucified. But He lived through. He lives now. That little ball of anger, sadness, heartache, rage, anxiety- it dissolved. Nothing was left but my tears. Fear- gone. Worry- absolved. Pain- gone. Instead, I hope. I hope in a melancholy sort of way because I know that I'll break. Some day, it'll be too much. Some day my mortal shell, my body, my stamp on this earth will be gone. But the purest love sings through my soul. I know things will turn out just so. There is no end to my spirit. There is no end to God's love or wisdom. Broken I may be, but perfect I may become. That is the plan. that is the truth- my future, my hope.

Lobby again. Hushed conversation. Souls touched... by what? Song? Script? Cinematography? Spirit? Doesn't matter. Beautiful broken English testimony (another story for her letter). Beautiful message. Beautiful city lights blurred by careless motorist. Glimmering streets, rain-slicked, reflective. Freeway. Church. Home. Shower. Bed. Prayer. Love- every side filled with, painted by, bursting to share.

~~~

Recorded 3/23/10

We've Never Been Formally Introduced

I find that writing things down helps me to sort through my emotions. My little Miss Fix-It journal listens quietly to my pen as it rambles on and on through the patient white pages, and my mind empties, and sleep comes more readily. But in a journal, thoughts are fixed, immovable. While it is tucked safely away in my bag, Miss Fix-It can't tell a soul of my heartache or my solace. So the purpose of this blog is to create a place where I can untie the floppy green ribbon, transpose my musings, and unleash some small part of myself into the void.

It just helps to know that someone is listening to what I have to say. An audience somehow makes these words more real.

So! Settle in, grab your beverage of choice, and together we'll explore my innermost thoughts, deepest fears, greatest longings, and maybe a few bad jokes.