Stressed and Sweaty: Summer in the City

For the past couple of months I have been lurching through life with an ominous [internal] black cloud floating over me. 

I have been off Zoloft for a while now – I ended that relationship in March due to the hurricane of emotions I was hit with every ten fucking seconds. Am I depressed? Sure… do I need a mountain of prescription pills to sustain life? Jury is still out on that one… are the feelings I am experiencing only here because I am not medicated? I am thinking no, confidently. 
No, this feeling is less “empty jar where my heart should be” and more like marbles rolling around in my stomach, bricks on my chest.
Work. 
Sigh.
Work.
It is like this weird game that I am somehow just realizing I am a part of. Sometimes I love it, and I live it, and its this thing that consumes me and I am it, and it seems like I cant get enough! Other times I am drained to the point of no return. Honestly, I am ashamed with the amount of time I spend thinking of hiding under my desk just to escape the noise.
Its like I am two different people all at once. Work Maria loves the chaos of the day to day, the busy-bee queen feeds off the high pressure environment, the ringing of the phones, the stupid customers asking stupid questions. I cant explain the satisfaction felt after assisting one of my team members with a difficult situation or completing a daunting task.
The other Maria, the one I am still struggling to get to know and understand, she is afraid. She knows she is not indispensable, she knows she can be replaced. She feels like she is juggling machetes, and that any second one will not be caught and artfully tossed into the air, if you catch my drift. She feels like she does not belong, that she is not capable, she feels her shortcomings outweigh her abilities.
After chatting with my therapist for some time I have come to the realization that in both my personal and professional life that there is this underlying need for not only acceptance but a need for being needed. 
I guess on some level I have always known that because I mean, come on, who doesn’t want to feel needed? 
Boundaries.
That is my problem. I take work home with me. Literally. 
Thing 1 : Mission to Mars – a select few of us were chosen to partake in the first ever mission to the future. What this means, I have no fucking idea. I was tasked, along with my fellow astronauts, to read a book about a ship [not a shark, as I later discovered after asking everyone about the “shark book”] and to bring back discussion topics for our next training session. 
Okay. That isn’t so bad. I like reading, books are cool, they smell good, and this one could potentially help advance my career and instill a new level of leadership I didn’t know I had. Cool. Bring book home. Read book in spare time. 
Thing 2 : EVERY-FUCKING-THING ELSE!! 
THE TEXT MESSAGES – THE EMAILS – THE PHONE CALLS – THE ANXIETY OF KNOWING I LEFT WHEN THINGS WERENT COMPLETED – DID I LET MY TEAM DOWN – SHOULD I HAVE STAYED LATER – SHOULD I HAVE COME IN EARLIER – SHOULD I HAVE TAKEN A LUNCH BREAK TODAY – DID I TAKE TOO MANY BREAKS TODAY – DID I SWEAR TOO MUCH TODAY – DID I DRESS PROFESSIONALLY ENOUGH – DID I – DID I – DID I – SHOULD I – SHOULD I – SHOULD I …. FUCKING JESUS A CHRIST!!!!!!!!!!!
See, I don’t know how to walk away and leave it at that. I don’t know how to leave work AT work, leave all my shit there so I can pick it up the next morning when I return. Do people actually do that? I do not believe that I am the only person who gets into their car and instantly starts panicking about “what the fuck just happened today”, “what could or should I have done differently/better/more[or less] of/this/that/20 other things”… I know I am not the only person who does this and yet… I know for a fact that the one thing that me and my fellow panic-ers have in common… we probably aren’t too happy. 
And then when the texts or calls come in, man, that triggers a new level of panic for me. Why have I failed my team? If I was better they would have the resources needed to answer these questions on their own and get through the day without having to call me. Or have I bred a culture of “neediness” where I wasn’t actually giving my team the tools required to excel, but only giving “just enough” so my team felt empowered but really, I was only crippling them enough for them to not notice how much I needed them to need me and I secretly and subconsciously created these crazy fucking roadblocks where people HAD to go through me for approval and answers???? 
WHAT DID I DO? AND… did I actually do this???
We are in the process of this Mission to Mars where we are learning more traction-y ways of being a leader/boss and going through LMA sessions. Now, this is not my first LMA rodeo, I have sat through the videos, read [skimmed] how to be a great boss, and filled out one of the LMA questionnaires for my boss, Scott. 
We sat down in a conference room on Tuesday, me and this new group of astronauts, and we watched the video – first time for some, second or thirdsies for others – and discussed. Scott rambled off some stuff about things and we went through the LMA questionnaire again. AND HOLY SHIT – I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE RIGHT THEN AND THERE.
I COULDNT ANSWER YES FOR ANY OF THE QUESTIONS. I was a no for all categories. 
And that made me cry. Not for myself, even though I have been known to be exceptionally selfish, but for my fucking team. Like, lord, what? Honestly, I know this last year has been somewhat of a blur both in my personal life and at work, and I knew that there were aspects of my work life that I really needed to narrow in on and re-group/re-focus on. I just didn’t realize how far off course I really was until I sat down and read that stupid fucking piece of paper. 
Aaand queue more waterworks. 
For those of you not familiar with LMA its basically like this: Leadership + Management = Accountability… and something like if you are a good leader and can manage shit your team will be successful and happy and respect you. The questionnaire asks things like “do you make time for your team and give them what they need”… 
So, based on my really shitty explanation of something a bit more complex than that I am sure you can understand why I was [am] so upset. 
It all makes sense now. This needy culture WAS created by me, my absence as a LEADER created a black hole. These people are just looking for someone to help them out and I was too busy being a raging ball of BITCH to actually give a serious damn. I gave a half-hearted damn, I was going through some shit, okay? 
Excuses are like assholes but whatever, that is all I’ve got.
How long can someone be “going through some shit”before its just “my life is shit”… and when do you know when you have crossed the line from one to the next? How will I know if I am succeeding? 
What does success look like?
When will going to work stop giving me anxiety? When will being at work stop giving me anxiety? When will leaving work stop giving me anxiety? When will sitting at home on the couch watching shitty TV stop turning into thinking about work and getting anxiety? When will a text message from work stop giving me anxiety?
Is it my job – or is it me? I am quite certain it is both.
I don’t know – I am not a mental health professional but at the same time I don’t trust half of em, so whatever.
I just want to be fucking happy. I cant remember what it feels like to be genyinely happy, and that makes me even more fucking depressed.
I feel like a damn idiot, going through the motions every day. 
Cheesy-toothy grin and a wave “hi hello good morning” “how are you? Oh me, I’m fine thanks for asking!” “Love your shirt today” “INSERT LAME STORY ABOUT ELTON THAT NO ONE GIVES A FUCK ABOUT BUT HE IS MY LIFEBLOOD”… cry at desk, cry in bathroom, cry while smoking, cry in a different bathroom…. think about eating. 
WORK
GO HOME
MAYBE SEE FRIENDS – joke and joke and joke – touch on one serious topic and go deep into self realization that I am shit, I know nothing about being a person – back to jokes and jokes and maybe food eating
GO HOME
MAYBE PAINT
LOOK AT ELTON
ORDER DELIVERY FROM PARKWAY PIZZA – SEE SAME DELIVERY DRIVER – FEEL LIKE SHIT FOR ORDERING TAKE OUT AGAIN
LOOK AT ELTON
SLEEP FOR A COUPLE HOURS
HIT SNOOZE *19* FUCKING TIMES BECAUSE I SET MY ALARM FOR 6 AM BUT CANT WAKE UP UNTIL 745
STARE AT ADULT ACNE IN MIRROR AND CRY
GET READY FOR WORK
PANIC WHOLE WAY INTO WORK – WHAT DID I FORGET TO DO
PANIC ALL DAY AT WORK – WHAT AM I FORGETTING TO DO
PANIC WHOLE WAY HOME FROM WORK – WHAT DID I FORGET TO DO
*repeat every day for 9 months with the exception of a handful of days
I am tired. 

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They say that breaking up is hard to do

Its not the breaking up that is hard. No. Its the inevitable hurricane of emotion that follows that is “hard to do”.

After my recent break up I was left feeling completely devastated. Confused. Lost. Sad. Angry. All of those swirling, icky feelings that are associated with breaking up. I was consumed by depression and a belief that “I’m worthless. I’m not good enough. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not”

In my heart I clung to the idea that perhaps it wasn’t real, that it was just a thing, he wasn’t serious, he would come around. He didn’t just fall out of love with me. That stuff was all just some bad dream and any second now he’d be here, wanting me, desperate to take me into his arms and love me forever.

Wow.

My head knew it was all too real. My head knew that it was the end – I had lost my love. All the dreams we had, the future we had created for ourselves, it was all gone and I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it.

I lied to myself for weeks. I told myself it’s not real! It’s not happening! I continued living in this deluded world where he was my soul mate and that he knew this, he felt the same way, and that he was dying to be with me, too. 

Why did I continue this lie for so long?

Part of it was sheer embarrassment. Do people see me as less than? Do they think I’m a loser? Here I am, pining over a man who kicked me out – booted me to the curb and said he was no longer in love and I am crying over him. Pathetic. No strong woman would be feeling this way! No strong woman would be laying in a pile of used tissue, sobbing over her phone and the worthless text messages he had sent.

I felt like an idiot. Was it all a lie? Was the past 5 years just some fucking joke? Did I make up this happy relationship just like I had made up the idea that he still loved me? Holy shit. Why did all of this happen? What did I do wrong? Did I not see the signs? Were there signs? I bet there were but I was too lost in love to notice that he was just lost? What could I do to change, to make it better? I begged him to love me. I went there. I said I wouldn’t and I did, I caved and I actually begged him to love me. That was low, so so so low.

Most of it was sadness. So much incredible sadness – I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was drowning – trapped in a pit of endless despair. I felt like a soaking wet rag being wrung out by a really aggressive person with strong hands. I was being twisted and life was escaping me. He was my love. My future. He just… was. And then he just… wasn’t, and I didn’t want it to be happening. I loved him so deeply. I never imagined a life without him because he said I didn’t have to, and he changed his mind.

Holy shit.

This whole amazingly crazy awesome cool part of my life was ripped away from me all too suddenly. I didn’t focus any of my time to really process what was happening. I started reading shitty blogs highlighting the top 8 things to do after a break up, the top 15 songs to listen to after a breakup, the top everything related to breakups that are supposed to help you feel like less of a worthless piece of shit. It was all garbage. I didn’t want to read shitty poetry and listen to shitty 90’s R&B and shitty shitty shitty.

It was all shitty.

And then. THEN.

I wanted to beat the shit out of him.

I wanted to drive my car directly into his fucking house.

I wanted to destroy his life.

Those feelings were fleeting, lasting a quick day, and then I realized it was just another dumb ass part of the whole grieving process. Whatever. Anger felt right. Anger always feels good on me. I look good in rage.

Acceptance. Sitting in my grungy pajamas on the guest bed in my old bosses house, watching Sex and the City wondering what I will do next. According to Charlotte [I think I’m a Carrie/Miranda hybrid] it will take me approximately 1/2 the time we were together to get over the loss of the relationship.

5 years = 2.5 years?! I mean… interesting. Right now it seems almost quite realistic. I still have trouble sleeping. I think of him throughout the day, I still hope for a call. I’m not still hoping but I am still hurting. Even though the relationship dissolved without me noticing I still love the man. 2.5 years seems so excessive. This is just silly.

2.5 years to accept reality? That sounds insane.

I feel like maybe some great pizza, friends and a shopping spree will help immensely. Will it take 2.5 years? I fucking hope not. Will it be quick and easy? No, and I am slowly becoming kind of OK with that.

Now… now I just have to keep on keepin’ on.

 

Ice cold!

Today was partially spent deep cleaning my bathroom. Then I ate and ended up watching Property Brothers & Love it or List it for about 2.5 hours.

I decided that I can’t decide if I hate it if people “love it” or “list it” more… depends on the episode. I can tell you that the nasty people with super unrealistic expectations when it comes to home renovation and budgets drive me batty!

How can you be that daft? I mean, really? How do you not understand limitations? I found myself arguing with the TV and making snide remarks about the guests on the shows. Seriously. Start thinking people! You simply cannot expect a brand new home without dropping a dime!!

sigh

Today is definitely -3 degrees and I haven’t left the house. I smoked my last cigarette last night and haven’t even left to go buy more. So, I’m either quitting or becoming exceptionally lazy. Both? Is that an option? Probably. I don’t know… obviously I understand the health risks associated with smoking, it’s just that I am not ready to quit. It has been said that the more attempts you make at quitting smoking the more likely it is that you are to quit. That’s good, because I have attempted quite a few times. Someday.

This is my view from my craft station. I kinda love it!

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Tunzo Funzo: A daily prompt blog

Show you fun… MY idea of fun…

If Hell froze over and for some reason I did not have to go into work tomorrow what would I do…

SLEEP IN! 

I know a lot of people, myself included on occasion, who take advantage of time off. Unexpected time off or not they wake up and seize the day, Newsies style.

With all the snow we’ve gotten I would most likely just want to stay in bed, cocooned in my blankets for hours. I am in desperate need of a crafting day and I did get a bunch of new paper to play with so I would most likely do this:

1. Wake up

2. Make coffee

3. Sit

4. Stretch

5. Drink coffee

6. Sit some more

7. CRAFT LIKE CRAZY – I have a few empty frames just laying about that I would really like to FILL with something. I have plenty of work that is just piled in random corners around the house. I could do that.

8. HANG pictures – in addition to the multiple empty frames I also have photos ready to be hung. Hardware and everything, just ready to be displayed. I just need to do it. It’s been somewhat difficult since my boyfriend/landlord [its the same person] is a little skeemish with the thought of holes in his walls. I mean, he’s owned the place for a while now so in my mind its time to actually live in it! Right? I’ve been living there for almost two years myself and haven’t hung up a single piece. I laugh about it because it seems so absurd to me. Why wouldn’t you put holes in the walls? I have never lived anywhere that didn’t have art hung in every available space. These naked walls give me gas.

9. Obviously eat… I like eating

10. Whatever the hell else I want to do! I’m a pretty simple gal. If I had a car there might be driving and/or shopping involved, because I LOVE shopping as much as I love smoking cigarettes!

I found this image on Google searching for “waking up” and I like it!

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/21/daily-prompt-good-time/

Motivation: there’s a time & place for everything

I have a very hard time pinpointing why I never do much of anything.

Do I lack motivation? Am I simply lazy? Is there a difference between lacking motivation and being lazy?

Why do I procrastinate? Why are all of my amazing ideas hidden in a Rubbermaid bin under my bed? Why do I never paint, draw, write, post my blogs, clean the bathroom, walk the dog, take bubble baths… the list is endless.

How does one motivate themselves? Is it as simple as repeating inspirational quotes to yourself in a mirror until you achieve your goal like positive self affirmations?

Do people have to learn how to become motivated or is it something you’re born with?

I honestly don’t believe my problem is that I lack passion. Well, actually, it could be. BUT I feel like I’m a very passionate person… I do lose interest in things rather quickly. Could it be that ADHD thing I was told I have??

I partially believe that my problem could be my lack of focus and space. I really don’t have a creative space. Each of the rooms in my home have a purpose (or general purpose) and none of them are really designed to facilitate any sort of creative outlet or artistic expression.

Do I need a desk? Would that help me? Or would adding a desk just help me hide more projects and more ideas to be forgotten about for years. Is the lack of a desk or art space just an excuse to be lazy?

I found an old torn up plastic grocery bag under my bed. I was curious and opened it. There were about 10 really ornately designed rusty old door fixtures. I have no fucking clue why I saved them. Was I planning to do something artsy with them? I dunno. There are a lot of old torn up plastic bags full of ideas I once had but have long since forgotten about.

I want to dream again.

I want to create again.

I want to be motivated. I bought a fucking week/month planner! I had hoped that maybe by somehow buying the giant thing that it would help me manage my time better so that I could MAKE time to do what I used to LOVE! I haven’t. It’s been two months, so maybe I’m just rushing things?

I haven’t felt “myself” in a long time. In all honestly I haven’t felt that spark since I moved out of Eugene’s place over two years ago.

I have thought long and hard about why that is and a few things come to mind, mostly shared interest in creating and functional space.

I just feel kinda lost right now, without real purpose. I don’t know what I am doing with myself anymore.

Hats, Scarves, Gloves & Boots

Morning seems to come earlier and earlier this time of year, especially when the cold comes with it. Image

Today is blustery cold. There is nothing to do outside besides freeze and DIE. Getting out of bed was probably one of the hardest things I have had to do in a really long time. Even the dog didn’t want to go out this morning and he is never concerned with the weather. Unfortunately, I get to work only to find out that I am not needed today. That is my life today.

It is actually warm here, in the training room. Comfortably warm. Nap warm. I don’t think I will ever leave this room!

I would love some coffee. I have some with me however  it is completely tasteless and blagh. Well, it is flavorful. I guess its all because I am a creamer kind of gal. Sugarless now, actually, I just really enjoy a splash of creamer in my coffee. MMMMMmmmm that milky goodness! French Vanilla, Vanilla, Hazelnut, Fat Free, Sugar Free… whatever! I love it! If you are in the Richfield area and happen to swing by my work with a bit of creamer I will smile at you and tell you a story about something while I drink my coffee. We can sit together in the training room and talk about life and our dreams and the days to come and what sort of goodies the future has in store for us. And then, I will ask you to leave, and leave you will because no one likes to overstay their welcome. You will go back into the cold tundra and I will stay, comfortably warm & tucked away, in the toasty training room.

Today will be a good day.

QUESTION: has anyone seen Sharknado on Netflix and IF SO – two questions – 1] what were you thinking? 2] was it entertaining?

Note how I didn’t ask “was it good”… to me a movie doesn’t have to be good to be entertaining. For instance, Joe Dirt… HA! Now, I don’t think anyone would call that cinematic gold [besides the Martini family & a few select others who happen to have a great sense of humor and a solid understanding of what it truly means be white trash] BUT it is a terribly entertaining movie! Terribly! I remember being SOOOOOO excited when Netflix added Joe Dirt. Oh, SO excited! I am pretty sure I blogged about it!

I can hear people giggling. The heat registers not only carry heat but sound as well. Not clearly though. It’s not as if I could sit here and carry on conversations with people in the next room but I can hear faint voices, pick up bits and pieces of things. I feel like a spy. I want to BE a spy!

Contemplations..

The internet… the world wide web… the one place you can be completely anonymous [unless someone tracks you down via ip address and what-not] and do/see/say whatever it is that your twisted little heart may desire.

Elton is doing this thing where he doesn’t realize that I am not trying to cuddle with him. I think he is so cute and I giggle as I write this but I really do want to pick him up and play “launch kitty” where he soars onto the floor from the bed… after I toss him. He is adorable and I love him yet I am terribly allergic, so if I don’t pay attention to where he is going [like near my face] I tend to end up with hives. Not breathing really isn’t fun. Him walking on my laptop isn’t fun either.

I tend to overreact. I don’t know if I have ever mentioned that before. I guess I am very sensitive, delicate and temperamental. It has always been a joke that if I were a dog I would be a poodle. Ill take that. Poodles are alright. They do stuff in the circus which has kind of been a dream of mine for a long while now.

 look at how classy and sassy that poodle is! Definitely diggin’ it!

I’d be a poodle. If Reed were a dog he’d be a lab for sure. Elton would be a German Shepard. I think Rocky would be something like… himself since he is a dog but if he were a CAT Rocky would have to be something liiiike a Savannah cat… big, wild, jump, loyal and loud!

So I totally overate tonight. It was epic and disgusting. I do it every so often. More often that I would care to admit actually but I am admitting it. I ate about 3-4 servings of waffle fries [exact quantity unknown] with MAYO and hot sauce… goodness I KNOW, I KNOW! DONT’ JUDGE ME! But you can judge me… I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about it. Anyways.. of course as soon as I finish stuffing my face we decided to go on a walk…?

Why did I go? Why did I do it? Between the horrible lung capacity from smoking [slowly cutting back, on my way to QUITTING] the obnoxiously full belly and the sore ass body from sleeping like a log I can honestly say that tonight I experienced the worst walk of my life. So far because I am sure I will have worse in the future, but this was the worst so far. Oh God, I was dry heaving and begging for mercy, begging for Reed to slow down, begging to sit on stoops belonging to strangers in our neighborhood, begging Reed to leave me, return home to grab the car and come get me… HA! How pathetic! It was a good 45 minute BRISK walk so I shouldn’t have been so close to death like I was. I blame it mostly on the fact that I gorged myself before moving. What a dumb idea. Why didn’t we wait? It’s not like we were on a time limit, or had a curfew or anything. Just in a rush to live!

So now I am in bed. With my sleepy time tea, loaded up on Melatonin, waiting for the computer to die so I can slink down further into bed and dream that I am laying on a beautiful white sandy beach near the ocean. With my  first deep breath in I will imagine the tide rolling up to my toes, with each breath out the tide will roll back out, with the next breath in the tide will roll further up my legs, then back out, further up my body and so on\, ebb and flow of the tide onto myself until I have fallen asleep or the tide has come so far up that the ocean has consumed me and I turn into a mermaid which is usually a sign that I am sleeping.

BYE