Thursday, February 23, 2017

Anxiety and Some Big-Little-Things

*warning this post is written on very little sleep.

If I had to describe what it is like to have Anxiety, I would have to say that it is like watching a filler episode of your favorite television show only to have a news ticker consistently running along the bottom of the screen. About halfway through the program, you start to realize that it may not be a filler episode after all, but you've already missed integral context clues because you were so focused on the 20 or so snippets of text at the bottom of your screen.  suddenly, you start to replay the episode with the news ticker still going off. This action will became a mental  Mobius strip, sometimes lasting for hours. it won't always be as entertaining as your favorite tv show though. I can probably promise you that it won't be entertaining, at all.

Most people have to factor in the stresses of work, friendships, and relationships on top of all of that.
Sometimes, I think that the worst part of my anxiety is that I am home alone with it. I am able to pull up a chair and become comfortable with it on a daily basis. Just me and my old bud anxiety, randomly analyzing a conversation I had two weeks ago and convincing myself that my best friend hates me because they never responded to a text I sent 48 minutes ago. Everyone does that right? I am my own worst enemy.

When my anxiety gets too much, I shut down which causes its own set of problems via unfinished cleaning, unanswered letters or texts, and a whole lot of blankly laying around making endless lists but not having the motivation to finish them.

This month, I have accomplished a  few small things:
I joined a YA book club that is sponsored by my local library. It meets at several local bars around town. Books and booze induced courage make for a good time. I can be set on one glass of wine or Blood and Honey, thank you.  I've been trying to focus on healthy friendships and after gushing with another bookish lady about Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Gilmore Girls OTPs I managed to make a new friend.

I helped out a stranger by answering questions about the creation of a  crisis and emotional support line for people with disabilities. I stated that an aspect of my anxiety manifests through talking on the phone and they emailed me the question set.

I also messaged someone out of the blue about a favorite Comic Book. Social strides, I tell you.

I have mentioned before that I have issues with self esteem, because of this, I rarely leave the house without
makeup. I'm not a youtube beauty vlogger but I have to at least have foundation on. Last saturday, I was feeling particularly down and decided to just go out anyway. I recently ran out of makeup staples and had to go to Ulta without makeup. I always feel super judged going into a makeup store bare faced but I grabbed my products and made it out fine.

This  all sounds really trivial but  I should take stride in it instead of trying to invalidate myself. Maybe I will start monthly big-little-things posts.

Are there any tasks you feel anxiety about?
When was the last time you pushed yourself to do something?

Monday, February 13, 2017


I came home from a busy weekend and noticed the hashtag #disabledandcute (created by Keah Brown) was tending on twitter. I often feel that people with disabilities get overlooked especially when it comes to societal beauty standards. I have often mentioned to friends that once you transition from sick -but-possibly-curable child to adulthood there is a certain erasure that takes place.  I feel like I could count the number of disabled characters I've seen on screen or in literature on my own hands.

True story: When I started watching Breaking Bad on Netflix, I was so excited by RJ Mitte's portrayal of Walter Jr. that I googled if he actually had Cerebral Palsy, and promptly lost it when it was confirmed.  Boy, let me tell you how much that driving scene with two feet meant to me. I can personally testify that on the few occasions I was attempting to drive a car, that scene is the real thing.

I also lose "it" when hashtags normalizing disability are trending. Largely, because it allows me to follow and connect with other disabled people. I grew up in a very small area despite it being so close to Disney World and the area being taken over by tourists pretty much all year 'round. I remember the hour drive to Orlando vividly to receive treatments. When I was young, I would have to make bi-monthly trips to the doctor where they would flex leg muscles and joints, and then wrap them up in plaster casts. I would always dread this because I was afraid the instrument to remove the cast would cut into my leg but it was super fun to pick out my cast colors each time.Sadly, the hospital/therapy visits would be some of the few times that I was able to see other disabled people but was pretty much raised in a sea of normal the majority of the time. 

Not being "exposed" to other disabled people really messed with my own perceptions about disability as well as my own self esteem. Especially, in my teen years and more so as an adult. I became obsessed with appearing normal. I would always insists on wearing makeup, dislike photos of me in my chair or hide the walker best I could.  I think the most upsetting thing that I would do, was never wear shorts because of the lengthy scars from heal cord and hamstring surgeries. I eventually got over these things but it took me until my twenties and I still have bad days.

Up until the moment that I joined social media and the magic of the interwebs, I had befriended a total of four people with my specific disability or just disabled, period. Since that hashtag debuted I have pretty much followed every post I have seen and cannot stop smiling at my feed.  

So yeah, high five interwebs! You did good. 

Wednesday, February 8, 2017


I should start off by saying that compulsively starting things only to be filled with anxiety about continuing them has been my somewhat of a hobby of mine since I was fourteen years old. surely, this blog will be no different. I will probably start off by posting regularly and
then giving up on it only a few months later.  There are a lot of unfinished art projects, skeins of half used yarn,  and one excitedly-purchased-but-never-used Ukulele sitting around my house.
Given that disclaimer, you may be asking yourself why I would want to start posting my thoughts all over the interwebs only to further agitate my anxiety, yes?  Welp, I just turned 30 and am doing some sort of obligatory self-evaluation and introspection.

 I am disabled and have Chronic Depression, Borderline Personality Disorder and Anxiety. I was born with Spastic Cerebral palsy, with that combined with mental illness,  I feel like I am made up of half finished or modge-podged broken bits that were put together to resemble a human form.

I feel like I have struggled with the concept of being a "whole" person my entire life which might sound absolutely ridiculous and dramatic to most people abled-bodied or not.

Anyway, here are a few things I learned from my most recent introspective analysis:

I don’t know if aches and pains are more prominent due to this introspection  but my back (spine) hurts constantly. My right hip has been popping out of place for years, but now it seems like it does so with even the slightest movement or turning of my body. There is also a new throbbing sensation which is constant. My fingers ache as if I have been standing in the cold for hours.

Fun fact: apparently, I say Arthritis like Fred Sanford. As in, "I think I might have arthur-rite-us in my hands, my legs, and back. All over, really,"

   Continuing on, I also noticed that  I can no longer put on my right shoe by myself because I cannot tilt my foot at the right angle to put it in my shoe. Sometimes, I get so frustrated that I cry or throw those shoes halfway across the room .I tell myself how I am over-reacting and illogical when simple things send me into panic. I tell myself this is just my body getting older, but the truth is that the only time I feel half way okay is when I am lying in bed and even then there are still echoes of phantom pains.
 Still, laying in bed living vicariously through Facebook posts brings random bought of jealously because people are able to do things like work or attend classes.  People constantly say that I am lucky that I get to stay home all the time but the truth is, I would rather be anywhere else. The social construct of comparing myself to others is like throwing myself in a pit of lions, wondering why I got mauled, and then frantically trying to bandage my own wounds.If you combine all that with lack of energy and you can pretty much sum up that every day is a struggle in and out of my own head.

  So, long post short, This is me attempting to drag myself out of that pesky pit.