Wednesday, July 13, 2005
unconscious accidents
Stress is a part of life. We all know this. Personally, I’ve always felt that I could handle as much stress as the world should want to throw at me. Lately, my opinion of these (perhaps fictional) capabilities of dealing with this daily demon has somehow gotten itself blown full of holes.
I get up in the morning, make my coffee, do the poog dance, watch the news, shower… whatever it takes to get those sleep hormones out of my system. Then, sometimes unprepared (ie. not sufficiently armed), I go to work. But the past few months it’s felt like I’ve been (how shall we put it nicely?) staple-gunned to the back of a wild boar that wants nothing more to do than fuck me dead and gone. I gotta be honest; that pig is starting to hurt my feelings.
It’s been three years since I started taking anti-anxiety medication (Lorazepam), quickly to be followed with anti-depressants (at the time, Zoloft). I’d been seeing a therapist since August 2001 and just about a year later, started the medication after going for a visit with a full-fledged shrink.
Point is, that while I’m no longer on anti-depressants (haven’t been for a loooong time), and I no longer see a therapist or a psychiatrist, I have in the last two months, started taking the Lorazepam again. Why? I’ll tell ya: there are days I get so FRIKKIN’ tweaked about shit that it causes a tightness in my chest and the soles of my feet hurt… so. In order to bypass this, I’ve been popping a pill before I come into work or taking one on my lunch hour.
Now, I understand there are people who have a serious need for medication (and don’t go getting all Tom Cruise on my ass) and that perhaps I don’t need it, but it’s a concern. My friend Mush openly discusses her bouts with panic attacks and it’s truly, brutally frightening. So yeah… the soles of my feet hurt and I can’t quite breathe in a normal fashion. Big deal. This is a drop in the bucket compared to what Mush goes through. But it’s still my freak on, and I’m not sure what to do with it.
Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I wrote this. I’m not seeking help or answers. I realize that this too shall pass and I’ll find myself back in my natural state of being. Maybe I just wanted to say that it’s ok to feel overwhelmed and frightened. It’s ok to get pissy, pensive, upset or downright angry about things. I’m still learning, but Taza (linked on my sidebar over there > somewhere) has some great things to say regarding the philosophy of do unto others. And if anyone needs a little calm, you ought to read her post of July 7th. Maybe we all need to learn about the Collective Conscious Intention Project… or at the very least, about conscious intention.
Who dat snappin' back? |
I get up in the morning, make my coffee, do the poog dance, watch the news, shower… whatever it takes to get those sleep hormones out of my system. Then, sometimes unprepared (ie. not sufficiently armed), I go to work. But the past few months it’s felt like I’ve been (how shall we put it nicely?) staple-gunned to the back of a wild boar that wants nothing more to do than fuck me dead and gone. I gotta be honest; that pig is starting to hurt my feelings.
It’s been three years since I started taking anti-anxiety medication (Lorazepam), quickly to be followed with anti-depressants (at the time, Zoloft). I’d been seeing a therapist since August 2001 and just about a year later, started the medication after going for a visit with a full-fledged shrink.
Point is, that while I’m no longer on anti-depressants (haven’t been for a loooong time), and I no longer see a therapist or a psychiatrist, I have in the last two months, started taking the Lorazepam again. Why? I’ll tell ya: there are days I get so FRIKKIN’ tweaked about shit that it causes a tightness in my chest and the soles of my feet hurt… so. In order to bypass this, I’ve been popping a pill before I come into work or taking one on my lunch hour.
Now, I understand there are people who have a serious need for medication (and don’t go getting all Tom Cruise on my ass) and that perhaps I don’t need it, but it’s a concern. My friend Mush openly discusses her bouts with panic attacks and it’s truly, brutally frightening. So yeah… the soles of my feet hurt and I can’t quite breathe in a normal fashion. Big deal. This is a drop in the bucket compared to what Mush goes through. But it’s still my freak on, and I’m not sure what to do with it.
Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I wrote this. I’m not seeking help or answers. I realize that this too shall pass and I’ll find myself back in my natural state of being. Maybe I just wanted to say that it’s ok to feel overwhelmed and frightened. It’s ok to get pissy, pensive, upset or downright angry about things. I’m still learning, but Taza (linked on my sidebar over there > somewhere) has some great things to say regarding the philosophy of do unto others. And if anyone needs a little calm, you ought to read her post of July 7th. Maybe we all need to learn about the Collective Conscious Intention Project… or at the very least, about conscious intention.
