Success!

I am a planner

I am an initiator

I am strong

I am a finisher

I am in motion

I am building character

After taking the first two of my four finals I felt some dread toward taking the last ones.  It wasn't that I felt I wouldn't do well.  I knew the material.  For some reason I became petrified of finishing the semester.  I didn't want it to end.  I was used to the subjects, the workload, and the professors, but it wasn't that either.  I couldn't put my finger on it. 

I had no choice but to take the remaining finals, so I waited until the last possible minute.  I thought if I could distract myself with other things, or sit and do nothing, then time would move slower and I could pretend it would never end.  Everyone in school was so excited for it to be over, but I grew distraught.

After I took the finals I went home and waited for the relief and calm to kick in, but it didn't.  Everyone congratulated me on a job well done.  I've never successfully finished a semester going full time before.  In fact, the best I've done is take two classes at once.  Any other attempts have been met with failure.  Granted, the first time I tried full time I was 17 and had just tested out of high school early.  The second time, when I tried 3/4 time I got a kidney stone, and the third time I got mononucleosis.  There are two other times where I attempted half a workload and passed only one of the classes because I panicked.  Then finally last fall I took two and passed both.  So yes, it's a pretty big deal for me to finish a semester going full time.  Especially taking Accounting, Botany, Math, and Communication.  

I found out a few days later that I got all 'A's.  I should have been ecstatic!  Instead, I ended up lying on the couch for four days without eating, sleeping, or showering.


Because of the agoraphobia I've been working through for a few years it's a miracle I even made it to my first day of school.  There are so many people on campus!  I started this semester pretending to be an outgoing person.  Now I am an outgoing person.  I faked it until I became it. 

But there's this sick part of me that worries I'm taking myself too far.  I'm afraid I might not be ready.  I almost never finish anything.  If I'm actually ready and able to succeed at full time that opens up the floodgates to more challenges I'll have to face.  On top of school I planned and executed a wonderful Christmas program and lost 19 lbs. (in a healthy way).  Crap! If I can do all that at the same time let's pile on more!

No...please no.

 I laid there wallowing in self doubt, telling myself I might not be ready for all of this.  If I become a "finisher" then I have to keep moving forward, and every time I finish something there will be more expected of me.  For someone who didn't step out her front door for over a year just three short years ago I have to wonder if I'm ready to take this step.

I almost talked myself out of signing up for next semester, but in my weakened state I had a moment of ironic clarity.  I knew I didn't think clearly when in a depressive state, so I decided to stay on the path I had already lain out for myself.  If I really was in a full mental breakdown spiral I still had plenty of time to drop out of the classes without receiving penalties.  So that's when I registered for classes in my PJ's with an empty stomach and a nice filmy sheen.  I'm taking Business Statistics, Introduction to Philosophy, Geography, and Principles of Microeconomics.  I reminded myself - as I still do - that there isn't any pressure right now, because I'm not even close to that bridge yet. 

I can either be sad and depressed because I'm not going anywhere with my life, or stressed half the time with bigger mood swings while I accomplish my goals, meet people, learn about business, love, family, relationships, and most importantly become a strong, independent, emotionally healthy individual. 

Fine.  I guess I'll go with the second one.

I am a planner.  I set goals and plan for my future.
   
I am an initiator.  I start working toward those goals as soon as possible.
  
I am strong. I stay on my path, even when it gets rocky.
  
I am a finisher.  I accomplish those goals at a manageable pace, without dragging them out.
   
I am in motion.  I pick new goals to work on when I finish previous ones.  

I am building character.  I am growing as a person as I walk this path. 

Process - Not Product

I am enjoying the process

During the semester I spent a lot of time saying to myself "I'll be able to breathe after this test," "I'll breathe when I finish this paper."  Eventually it was "I'll breathe when the semester is over."  

Then as soon as it was over I was recruited to start off a singing flash mob of Joy to the World.  So I said to myself "I'll breathe when that's over."  

I'm the choir director in my church and for almost three months I've been working on the big Christmas program with my choir.  As soon as the flash mob was over I said, "I can breathe when the Christmas program is finished."  

We have a relative staying at my house for Christmas.  She isn't exactly the kindest person and it isn't an ideal situation.  I've been telling myself "I'll breathe when we're done cleaning the house so she doesn't make everyone miserable," "I'll breathe when I know she won't make backhanded insults at me and my loved ones," and then "I'll breathe when I can get out of the house and spend time away from her," and "I'll be able to really breathe when she's gone."  

Then I started noticing a pattern.  I know right?!  It took me long enough.  When do I get to breathe?  I can't live like that!  Oxygen is kind of important.  How am I supposed to enjoy learning so much in school if I'm focused on what happens after?  How am I supposed to enjoy the experience of being in a flash mob with my mom if I'm anticipating it being behind me?  How am I supposed to feel satisfied with my Christmas program if I'm not taking the time to enjoy the company of the people who work so hard to help make it happen?  And finally, how am I supposed to enjoy Christmas if I'm letting so-and-so get to me?  I am the one who dictates how I feel.

I was focusing too much on the product, while ignoring the process.  I just learned about process vs. product in my communication class.  I thought I understood it, but it really struck home in the last week.   So I'm taking the time to be grateful for the experiences I have - as I'm having them.  

Furthermore, if I don't spend my time enjoying what I can from these experiences then what happens when I'm faced with similar circumstances in the future?  I might be faced with starting school again and think "it will just be stressful and my life will be put on hold," instead of "I learned so much and met so many new and interesting people!"

The next group project I have to do - whether it will be with a choir or others - I might think "it was so stressful and took up so much time and energy," instead of remembering how close I got to the people I was working with.  It was definitely worth it, and I got to see some of them grow more sure of themselves.  I like to think I helped them blossom.  When I think of that I want to dive right back in. 

By trying to spend my time hiding away from this visiting relative I'm not giving her a chance - or myself the opportunity - to look at the positive things she does.  Sometimes her redeeming qualities are hard to see, but they are there.  In the future I might steer clear of an individual just for making a bad impression, and as a result miss out on someone special.  Avoiding her isn't going to change anything; it will just make me dread her more.  She really isn't as awful as I make her out to be, but the hurtful memories are easier to focus on.


So by focusing on the product I'm robbing myself of the joy that is life and learning.  I could be making it more difficult for my future self to begin new projects.  I don't want to wake up one day regretting all the times I thought "I can't wait until..." instead of seeing the beauty in every challenging moment.




As always, thank you for reading!  Comments are welcome. 

Germs Update: I Am Persevering

I am PANICKING persevering

A few days after my last post, which was on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with germs, I went to a restaurant with my family.  It was a pretty nice one so I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to start moving forward with my experiment.  The menus weren't sticky - and I didn't see any fingerprints - so I told myself they were washed regularly.  The table was clean so I told myself they washed it thoroughly every time they cleared it.  The silverware was just laid on the table, not on a napkin like any other restaurant!  JUST LAID ON THE TABLE!  Now normally that would freak me out and I'd be cringing every time I took a bite, but this was NOT going to be one of those days.  It was a booth seat and I was stuck against the wall.  My parents were blocking potential escape to the 'safe haven' of the bathroom with the glorious sink and the blessed hand soap.  I was glad.  It was easier for me that way.  After we ordered our food I asked my family if they noticed a difference.  "You haven't washed your hands!" all five of them said.  They were all so proud of me and so supportive.  Not in a condescending way, because they know how hard this is for me.  I put on a confident grin, took a deep breath and slapped my palms on the table (something I would normally NEVER do) and wiped them around.  Yeah.  I was totally showing off.

Why am I giving you all these tiny details?  The answer is simple: because I can.  Also it might help you get an idea of what goes on in my head when I'm in these situations.  But mostly because I can.  If you keep reading this it's on you.  

Anyway, I survived.  So that's good.

I was SO EXCITED by what I did that I came straight home and began writing an extremely positive post.  I was on a bipolar manic high.  No more depression!  If I could do that I could do anything!  Never mind the slight panicky feeling in my chest or the tense feeling in my shoulders.  That was just the excitement! 

I passed out in the middle of writing and woke the next day feeling a little less stoked.  The high was wearing off.  I was crashing.  But I didn't want to admit it to myself because I knew what came next: panic, depression, rage, or numbness.  Take your pick.  I'm still not sure how it works.  So I tried to drag it out as long as possible.

Slapping my hands on the table reminded me of a river rafting trip I went on this last summer.  About halfway down the river we pulled to the side and went cliff diving.  I had never been cliff diving before.  It was really high.  I know it's probably sad, but that feeling I got when I decided to touch the table was akin to standing on the edge of the cliff.  I was scared to death but resolved.  I knew if I didn't jump right away it wasn't going to happen.  Moving my hands down was the act of falling, screaming the whole way.  I was so scared but so excited!  Then afterward I was glad I jumped.  Even though hitting the water gave me the wedgie of a lifetime and I almost lost my shorts, it was worth it!  I felt I had accomplished something.  

That's what touching the table was for me.  Sans wedgie...

But - of course there's a 'but' - all of this progress I've been making is in no way easy.  On the exterior I've been doing everything in my power to seem calm and confident.  I'm not putting on the act for anyone but myself.  I figure the more confident I act the more confident I'll feel and the easier this journey will become.  But all of this confidence is just the calm surface of the water I'm treading, hiding the deadly undertow of panic.  It has been welling up inside of me.  The more exposure to germs I force myself into the more I feel that undertow trying to pull me down into never-ending darkness.  It often becomes hard to breathe (how's that for dramatic?).  Don't get me wrong; I really do feel a sense of accomplishment.  Sometimes I think to myself "maybe I can actually do this!"  But under the surface the water is churning.

I had a panic attack.  This is going to be a little difficult to describe, but I'll do my best.  As you read this please remember that this is how I personally experience these things.  Panic attacks can be completely different for other people.  For me the cause can be a number of things, all of which are internal.  The trigger is usually internal as well.  The cause is a build up of stressors that can be anything from negative self-talk to something subconscious that takes a long time to sort out.  I was with someone for over three years with regular panic attacks before I realized what the problem was.  But that's another post altogether.

It starts with elevated heart rate and shallow breathing.  My face and neck become flushed and warm.  My senses grow stronger.  If I'm in a public place like a classroom, restaurant, or store I'm suddenly able to hear every word of every conversation nearby, until I'm sure they're all screaming at me and it makes my head throb.  Even white noise feels like an assault, and I know the people in the room are going to kill me.  Scents become stronger.  My eyes start moving rapidly in every direction, and suddenly I'm able to see more detail.  Color is richer and light is far too bright.  The increase in stimulus becomes too much so I cover my face and plug my ears.  The shaking starts and quickly becomes uncontrollable.  The tears start pouring.  I can't stop them.  My breathing becomes so fast that my chest hurts and I'm sure I'm going to die.  I can hardly breathe anymore and it feels like I'm drowning, but all I can do is let it run its course.

Image from: http://mariovittone.com/2010/05/154/

I don't feel strong enough to swim against the undertow of panic, and there is no way to tame it.  What mortal can tame the ocean?  Crap!  Now I need a new metaphor.  One that at least gives me the potential to calm the panic.

I've learned that standing still, staring at one spot and focusing solely on my breathing can keep the panic attacks from becoming full blown.  But that's only when I catch my body's cues beforehand.  Sometimes I'm not fast enough.  If possible I also go to a quiet place and sit or lie down, hug my knees, cover my face and hum a random tune.  But the best thing I've found is positive self-talk.  I repeat over and over out loud to myself "You're okay.  It's okay.  It'll be over soon.  You'll get through this.  You've got this."  Until I believe it.  Doing this keeps me from screaming at the top of my lungs, or clawing at my neck.

I'm agoraphobic, and I want to hide in my room, away from anything and everything that could potentially harm me.  What I really want to do right now is watch the rest of "Chuck" on Netflix, or play Skyrim until my eyes bleed and my brain turns to pudding, or get lost in the newest Odd Thomas book by Dean Koontz, or finally finish the Wheel of Time series.  But I haven't done that.  I still refuse to have my life dictated by this weakness.  At least that's what I'm telling myself. I've gotten used to using affirmations to keep me going. This positive self-talk motivates me. It has become habit for me to say "Yeah! This is going to be awesome! We can do it!" as if I'm two people.  Maybe that's to remind myself that I have guardian angels.  It gives me strength.  I like knowing I'm not going at this alone.  

So despite all of this panic I'm not letting myself revert to where I was three weeks ago.  I've taken two steps forward.  It's time to take one step back.  I have too many other stressors in my life right now to keep ignoring my body when it tells me I'm going too far.  I'm still moving forward and grabbing door handles.  I'm still going to be less OCD at restaurants.  I just might not be at the same level as everyone else.  It's a journey.  As soon as finals week is over I'm going to try taking another step forward.  I just have to pace myself.  It takes a while to retrain your body to respond differently to a perceived threat.  If I overdo it I will crash.  That's realistic.  I'm not Superwoman.  Then where will I be?  I'll be Howard Hughes in The Aviator sitting in the private theater room naked, peeing in milk jars, repeating phrases over and over again.  I've already done the repeating before.  Trust me, it's no fun.  I think I'll try to avoid the peepee/nakey part...

As always, comments are welcome.  It's easier to comment from a computer than a phone for some reason.

Wish me luck!