Anxious Insomniac

I have this image of myself banging my head against a window, slapping my hand against the window at the same time, saying "Can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep". Which then gets me thinking about that old Mervyn's commercial with the women saying "Open, open, open." And the two have nothing to do with each other - so it's just more of my randomness.

I had somewhat of an anxiety attack today. I get them occasionally. Like the time at a quinceanera when I suddenly needed to get away. Or the time at a parade with no moral support around while dealing with a tough situation. Or the time I went to San Francisco to watch my date perform, my shoes made my feet bleed, I was super self-conscious and felt out of place (none of that really had to do with the other) and at dinner I suddenly had to leave, disappeared for most of dinner, and showed back up with slippers on. Or sometimes when I try to stay the night somewhere. Every now and then, it even happens at work.

Who me?
Photo from Flickr.

It's like being that kid who swears to mom and dad that she can handle the sleepover, and then they get the call at 1 am that she's crying and hysterical and needs to go home RIGHT NOW.  She's afraid and the only thing that will calm her is to be home. She can't tell  you exactly what she's afraid of, she just knows she won't be okay until she's home or somewhere like home. The worst is when even once she's home she still feels it, and so she pleads to climb into bed with mom and dad. And snuggled between them she can finally fall asleep. Except now there's no mom and dad, so she has to find something else (writing, reading, a bath, a pill) to get enough comfort to finally let go and sleep. When she wakes, she's mortified at the way she acted. She can't explain it. She knows it was ridiculous and not grounded in any kind of reality. But in the midst of it, it felt like something terrible was surely going to happen.

It starts out with difficulty breathing. I have to remind myself to do what we normally do without thought. "Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out." If that doesn't help, then I start getting hot and itchy: the soles of my feet, my ankles, the back of my neck, my shoulders, my wrists. "Breathe, don't scratch, breathe, don't scratch." People start noticing I seem a little off. Am I just snobby? Am I not interested? I'm trying to stay with them, keep smiling and interacting. Or when it's happened trying to stay with someone over night, I try not to toss and turn, try not to wake them. Or if I'm not really interacting, I might be texting a friend who is trying to help me long distance to maintain my composure. Which makes me look even more disinterested and snobby.

Me, before the anxiety came riding in today.

If I still haven't managed to calm down, my stomach gets upset. "Breathe, don't scratch, you aren't going to throw up. Breathe, don't scratch, you aren't going to throw up." And if I'm STILL not calming down and getting control of myself, my eyes start to water and it's time to bail. Usually the other person has no idea what's gone on inside me up to that point. Maybe they were off talking to someone else, maybe they weren't paying close enough attention to notice the warning signs, maybe they were peacefully sleeping, when suddenly I'm leaving. Hopefully before the tears have started - because at this point if they've started there's NO controlling them.

Someone said to me once after a situation they knew beforehand would be stressful for me, "I'd hoped you'd be stronger." Um, yah, me too! I certainly didn't hope I'd spend my morning trying to keep myself under control and wind up unable to tamp down the anxiety, end up rushing off in tears, and sit in my car crying for an hour.

What I felt like starting around 10 pm. Photo from Flickr.

It's 1:30 in the morning, so how much sense does this post make? Probably not much. Just stuff going through my head when I can't sleep. Realizing that I kind of set myself up for today's attack by not taking any real time to myself in the last week. It's the holiday season - which always depresses me - so I try not to be alone, when that's likely what I most need. I officially broke up with the boyfriend who had pretty much ended it but wouldn't say it, went to the mall on Black Friday, followed by a trip to Six Flags with two teenage girls who feed off each other, and got a "we need to talk" text from someone I care about, which always means bad news. So, yah, sensory overload = anxiety. And I'm still awake at 2:00 in the morning with a full day ahead of me.

Give Me Presents!

I love presents. Some of you are probably thinking, “Duh! Who doesn’t love presents?” But I’ve discovered that there actually are people who don’t enjoy presents that much.  Or they do like gifts, but they’d rather have something else from someone – like physical touch or quality time or words of affirmation or acts of service.

Gorgeous roses I got last weekend.

I don’t only love receiving presents. I really like to give them. I enjoy coming across something and thinking, “Oh, Sass would love these tights!” and getting them for her. Or reading that a friend has been dying to read a certain book, so I’ll buy it and have it sent to them. I’ve left gift cards on people’s vehicles to thank them for no longer parking next to me. 

Pretty roses with a vase AND an owl. 

This is my primary love language. I found this out by taking the quiz at The 5 Love Languages site. My primary love language is receiving gifts and my next highest is words of affirmation. The best presents are the ones that obviously took some thought or that show the person has paid attention to what you said. Like the Pitch Perfect blu-ray left on my windshield yesterday! Words are so incredibly important to me. But not just like, “You’re hot” or “I like you” or “Good job”. It’s about the details – the specifics. “I love the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh” or “I love that you are always looking for ways to help the people around you”. Those are the words that will get me giddy. Of course there are also the words that will chip away at my spirit, but I wrote about those words in another post.

I love books and owls. So, owl bookends?!

I’ve received several gifts over the last few months. I truly appreciate and adore these gifts. Some continue to make me smile on a daily basis. The interesting thing is, though, that when deciding to become exclusive with someone I chose the one who hasn’t spoken to me in my primary love language. We’ve been speaking more quality time and physical touch, which are my two lowest ranking love languages. Maybe I’m changing. Maybe it’s just all still new.

Personalized and delivered!

He does feed me and bring me coffee: high on my list of things that make me happy. And he says things like “You drive me crazy. I want to spend every second of every day with you. You make me happier than I’ve been in a long time. It was so hard for me to say goodnight” and “I love that we get along so well. You make me very happy and when I’m with you I feel complete. I don’t want to share you with anyone else.” (Yah, that started the exclusive discussion.) Now I need to learn his love language. And we’ll see where it goes from here!

What’s YOUR love language? Someone can't understand why you don't feel loved or appreciated by them? They aren't speaking your love language. You can't understand why your spouse doesn't feel it? Maybe you're speaking to them in your language instead of theirs! 

Surprised with a dress I REALLY wanted!

What is Dating?

I’ve spent most of the last 22 years of my life married. I got married at 17 (no, I was not pregnant) and we split up for good when I was 25. I was single for a year before moving in with the man who became my second husband. We were together 12 years. This month was our 11^th anniversary, since we’re still married. We separated in the summer of 2012.

I was back in the dating game at 38. Scary! But what IS dating? 

Truth Hurts on Yahoo! Answers :“It's like this, dating is supposed to be where you are getting to know someone and deciding if you guys are compatible but are free to date other people.” 

I decided that I was going to date more than one person at a time. I told men I didn’t want serious but I didn’t want to just be a booty call either. Since May I’ve gone through weeks of only dating one person and weeks where I had several dates with different people. (Dating doesn’t necessarily mean sleeping with, by the way. I don’t actually sleep with every person I date, contrary to what some people believe.) For the most part, I told the men that I was dating others. (Okay there was one I didn’t explicitly say this to, but I thought he knew.) My thinking was that until you have the talk about being exclusive, all’s fair.

Many people don’t agree with this philosophy. It seems quite a few people believe you should only date one person.  I’ve been told that I’m what’s wrong with society today. Ironically that came from a married woman who online went on and on about the importance of monogamy and being faithful, but who was pretty much throwing herself at a guy I was dating. Go figure.

One of my problems is that I tend to really, really like people at first. It’s all fun and new. I spend a lot of time with them. I miss them, I can’t wait to hear from them. And then suddenly, I’m not so into them anymore. I’m ready to move on. I warn men about this up front. It’s not a challenge. It’s a tip that if they’re looking for love or long term commitment, they should keep looking. I’m not saying this is a GOOD thing. It’s really not. I’m working on it.

And now? Well, I’ve found someone I’m still into after three months of talking, two months of dating. Someone I’m comfortable with, someone who is ready to have the exclusive talk, someone who is always my first choice, someone who makes my heart skip a beat, someone who causes my roommate to say things like, "You have that falling in love look on your face!" after a weekend camping trip. Am I ready to leave behind dating and move into the realm of exclusive relationship? Am I ready to say, “This is my boyfriend”? Am I ready to believe someone will love who I am and that I deserve this happiness, am I ready for commitment? Stay tuned…

P.S. Know how I always said I don't believe in soulmates? I changed my mind thanks to Pessimistic Optimism from Mr. Brightside. Read his post Will You be my Soulmate? It's great!

Words Can Break a Spirit

What do you do when you're awake at 1:30 am, then still awake at 2:30 am? Apparently you read through old shit you should have deleted long ago. You feel that pain all over again. Your finger hovers over the delete button but you don't quite bring yourself to press it. That document of over 1000 horrible text messages? You KNOW it's time to let go of it, but you just can't seem to do it. Partly because you think maybe you NEED to keep it, maybe that reminder is good when you start glossing over the bad and forgetting. Maybe sometimes you shouldn't forget.

Words hurt. They may not break bones, but they may well break a spirit. Actions hurt. Words and actions combined? Wow, that'll really knock you for a loop. I try to be a good person. I don't always succeed. Sometimes I'm selfish beyond belief. Sometimes I can't move beyond my own pain or fear to be the person I want to be and do the things I want to do. Sometimes I hurt people. I carry the guilt around with me after hurting someone. It never really goes away. My first husband and I have been apart since the summer of 1999. I still feel guilty and sad for things I did that hurt him. Was he totally innocent? Of course not, but that doesn't excuse my part in it!

But back to words hurt. Those bitch ass words are hard to forget. They'll replay in my head at the most inopportune times. Doesn't matter how many times I've been told I'm beautiful or that I'm a good person. Here are the things I hear instead,

About me:
"She thinks she's so hot in her librarian dresses." Yep, pretty much think of that every time I put on a dress.
"...practicing her burlesque routine...want me to record her tired ass body for you working it?" Dancing hasn't been the same for me since.

To me:
"Nobody in this county has any use for you."
"You look like a drowned rat. Who would want to date you?"
"You don't do shit for your kids."
"You should never have been allowed to have kids. That's how bad of a mom you are."
"She's 100x the woman you'll ever be."

Well, that doesn't sound so bad, I guess. But the other words? The words that are too awful for even my unfilteredness? They're nasty and downright cruel. And they go through my head far too often.

I guess what I can say about myself is that I never pretended to be someone's friend and tried to get them to talk bad about someone so I could run off and tell them. I never made up flat out lies to get someone else to like me and want me and to not like or want someone else. Even when someone has hurt me or pissed me off, I'll point out and remember what's good about them. "Oh her? The one who pretended to be my friend while talking shit about me and sending nasty sexual messages to my husband? The one who made up lies and told my husband I said them? But remember when she sent me balloons and flowers for my birthday?" Okay, maybe that's a bad example.

But what this post is really about, is a reminder to myself that words hurt. To be kind, even if I think the other person will never read or hear it. It's a reminder that even if I'm angry and hurting, I need to think about what I'm saying because that person may remember those words a year or ten or even 25 years later.

This post may not stay up long. That happens when I post in the wee hours of the morning after bad dreams, with my heart hurting and my mind replaying all those hurtful words. I post things that maybe I shouldn't.

He's an Alpha Male

In the past I’ve known a few guys who referred to themselves as alpha males.  Those guys were passive-aggressive, or just plain aggressive, pushy, bossy, often sexist men. So last December/January, when a new guy friend described himself as an alpha male, my hackles rose a bit. Then a bunch of crap happened in my life, we stopped talking for awhile, and I didn’t get the chance to really get to know him.

We recently reconnected and this got me thinking again about the term “alpha male”. Because this guy, well he didn’t fit my perception of what it meant. I decided to Google it. And I discovered that what I thought were alpha male behaviors were clear signs that the jerks of my past WEREN’T alpha males.

My truthful Tuesday FB post from 10/8/2013.
I've decided how I feel about the alpha male, obviously.

What are those signs? Top 10 Signs You’re Not an Alpha Male point them out, but getting through all 10 is a pain. The videos are total overkill. I’m a reader. I want to read a list.  If you enjoy videos or have more patience than I do, go check it out.

Then there’s this post: 25 Characteristics of an Alpha Male. This is long, but you don’t have to go through 10 different screens to get through it.

I can definitely say now that I’m attracted to and turned on by alpha males. I appreciate their can-do attitudes, their follow through, their confidence, their humility, their protective nature, their generosity, and their assertiveness. That stubbornness can be irritating, but hey, who’s perfect?