Skip to main content

Driving Myself Crazy but Not Knowing How I Got There??

One of the things my psychiatrist noted in her update to my insurance company was that I had been able to spend a few hours a day at my "desk" which seemed like a step forward.  

What she failed to note was that "at desk" time could be interpreted by the insurance company  as "doing something productive/can concentrate".  
The reality is "at desk time" is spent doing one of two things:

Writing here. (AKA brain dump)

Or

Flipping frantically back and forth between a series of websites in an obsessive compulsive sort of manner. 

  • What pets are up for adoption at the shelter now?  (Oh this is how I got three dogs....)
  • Any insurance requests for information?  Refresh, refresh, refresh.
  • Oooo look a 24 hour sale on cruises.
  • Wonder if they have posted any new animals for adoption.....
  • Are there vacancies at the campsite I went to last year?
  • E-MAIL CHECK---nothing ok so ....FACEBOOK CHECK.
  • Ohhh cute kitty video---and look at the puppies/elephants/sloths.  
  • Wasn't I supposed to be doing something?
  • Calendar check.
  • Doctor appointment on...wait where's my phone I might have a text.  
  • What hours is the donkey sanctuary open?  
  • WEATHER---OMG I almost forgot to check the weather.

  • This is a new one for me, and it happens 3 or 4 times a day...jumping frantically from one thing to the next in search of some sort of distraction from having to feel what I am feeling.

Last go round while Life sat on my chest, I found I could read some, albeit slowly (my foray into Brene Brown's Gifts of Imperfection was a crazy exercise in patience with myself--much highlighting and many rereads) and TV was my numbing friend---the computer--pffffffff!  Not so much.

This time, I can't read or watch TV.  I just cannot maintain the attention span.  

I get all settled in to read and then need a drink, and sunscreen and a pillow which is upstairs, oh look my bed is messy and I have an empty glass up here I will put in the dishwasher which is full of clean dishes and dammit that pots and pans cupboard needs to be better organized and 45 minutes later the ice has melted in the drink that I left in the laundry room when, distracted by the dirty dish towel I had to IMMEDIATELY wash before I forgot, I wandered down there mid pots and pans cupboard clean out to put it in the wash. (left my drink but brought something up from the freezer ---oh look, there's my book, but wait how did 3 hours go by---I need to make dinner.  Maybe.  


I also cannot drive---well.  Since last Wed I have run two red lights, jumped the curb once and gotten lost on the way home from my doc office.  Spouse has been driving me places now when he can.  Everything just feels so soft and out of focus and I can't find the edges to get a firm grip.   

I have been "arriving" places without knowing how I got there.  So THAT'S FUN!

The newest thing since the insurance company letter is the Petit Panic (My attempt to make mini panic attacks sound sexy.)  

The fight or flight chemicals fire random pulses of anxiety, flooding my body with ice water and  send tingles to my fingers and toes.   But with no danger in sight,  I am hyper alert; doors opening, dishwasher shifting cycles, my phone; I am jarred out of my body and it takes a few moments to settle back in.  The adrenaline has nowhere to go....

So I am trying to step away from all things electronic and get back to my small world deck life and garden to attempt to connect, literally, with the world and realign my physical energy.   Weird, as it came so naturally last time---finding peace in nature.

I will follow my doctor's advice though. Step away.  Spend time outdoors. Spend time with myself; peeking behind the locked door that is my heart and soul to see how I can find ways to soothe and nurture them.  

Time to find out what they need......


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Keeping Afloat in Darkness - When Robin Williams is Gone

A few weeks ago Robin Williams was everywhere you looked. People were desperate for details; to find the one thing that assured them that his situation was so different from theirs that they are safe; that it could never be them. But if you suffer from depression, the suicide of such a brilliant, successful, individual; part of our lives for so many years and responsible for so many laughs; looks like a leak in your boat. A friend asked me, "Ok but no one knows what the future holds.  Could he not see that?" For someone drowning in the dark spiral of depression, there is no future. There is only now. There is only nothing.  The boat is gone.  You are under. It is not about your spouse or your friends or your kids or career or fans or dogs or anything.  When the darkness squeezes it is all about now.  And now is nothing.  It is bleak and empty and so dark, you cannot see a bottom, or edges or surface ---just darkness. "Some...
4 comments
There is more good stuff--keep reading»

Being Enough

I am grateful that the chapters in The Gifts of Imperfection are short.  Each one overflows with concepts that ask you to reach down to your very core and dig around a bit with a sharp object.  Sometimes you have to pull back and take a break.  Like at the dentist...when you have to put your hand up...they let you close your mouth for a minute....you stretch your jaw....rinse maybe.  "You ok to continue?" You lie back, take a breath, try to get comfortable, open up, look at the outline of the hand holding the drill backlit by that horrible light...and nod. Not to say it is all bad.  But this chapter on Exploring the Power of Love, Belonging, and Being Enough made me uncomfortable in my skin.  I squinted a lot.  Really, really trying to get at what she was saying without having to feel what she is saying....which is not the purpose.  So I had to read the chapter a few times.  Then I fiddled around on Facebook and Outlook to avoid sta...
5 comments
There is more good stuff--keep reading»

Shame is A Full-Contact Emotion (Brené Brown)

It is a cool outside this morning and I have on my fluffy red robe as I sit outside and watch the birds flit back and forth from the fence to the feeder----arrogantly tossing aside imperfect sunflower seeds to get to the good ones.   The discarded seeds, some empty, some full, punctuate my deck, waiting for the squirrels, who will later claim this easy buffet. I am still reading Brené and The Gifts of Imperfection. Feels a bit like learning a new language ---I see the words---I hear the words---but the meaning is so diffuse...I need to read and reread and sometimes, even read out loud to make the words stick It is hard work.    And while the smooth cover of her book lies balanced on my palm, seemingly weightless, many of the concepts have a density that knocks me flat on my ass ---like a large medicine ball. CATCH THIS ONE!   Oooooooof!   I am down.    Eyes wide, trying to catch my breath, wrestling with the weight of hefty concept...
Post a Comment
There is more good stuff--keep reading»