Tag: coping

Late.

Late.

by themusingsofatwentytwoyearold ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

It’s been a while since I’ve cried in my car. It used to happen all of the time but today I broke my 6th month streak of no car crying.

All day I had been running around. It started at 7am this morning and continued through rushing to my 3:30 therapy appointment. Although my therapist was apparently running around too and our appointment didn’t start until 4. So I had to run to get to dance on time. And even though I was trying my best, it wasn’t enough. I was two minutes late to dance and they didn’t let me in.

At first I was angry- seriously, they lock me out because the class technically started two minutes ago? I hated the receptionist who came to the door and told me I couldn’t come in. I’ve seen them let other people in 5-10 minutes late. It felt personal. I wanted to quit the studio and never come back.

But then I realized that my anger was really masking my disappointment. I had tried. so. Hard. To make it to dance on time. It was important to me to get to dance today. I had injured my foot and hadn’t been able to make it to dance in a week. Maybe Ed was the one who wanted me to go. Maybe I just wanted to finally feel relaxed. Maybe I still am inherently resistant to change. Maybe it was a mix of all three. Regardless, I was devastated. And as soon as I got into my car to go home, approximately three minutes after class had started, I broke down. I really wanted this. I had been planning on this. I had been busting my ass to get here. And it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

I could hear my mother whispering in my ear that I should’ve done better. That I could’ve done better.

But the thing that was different this time was that I didn’t allow it to consume me. I hated the world for a few minutes. I cried for a few minutes. I felt all alone for a few minutes- certainly I couldn’t tell anyone about this failure. And then I realized I was probably crying because I hadn’t cried in 6 months. At all. I hadn’t even realized I had been bottling up my feelings but I definitely had been. I needed this cry.

And I also needed to have compassion for myself. It’s okay to make mistakes I told myself. And then I opened up my phone and started typing this up. Writing is my coping mechanism. It allows me to express all of my feelings and I always feel better once they’re off my chest. This time was no exception, I almost immediately stopped beating myself. Stopped hating the poor receptionist. Decided my mother’s thoughts didn’t matter and that I would just try to get to dance tomorrow. Because that is all I could do.

So I took some deep breaths and as I finished writing my final sentence, I let my ball of self hatred, frustration and anxiety go.

Everything was going to be okay.

-X

Worth.

Worth.

by themusingsofatwentytwoyearold ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“If you can’t love me at my worst, you don’t deserve to love me at my best.”

This phrase has been floating around in my head the past two weeks. I’m finally doing okay. My therapist, nutritionist, and psychiatrist have all remarked about how I seem lighter. There’s a bounce in my step. And being okay has given me the chance to really reflect on my relationship with my ex-best friend. Without the rose colored glasses this time.

She made me think that I needed her to survive, and then left me without a warning. All of when I was in an extremely vulnerable place.

I’ve come to realize that she took advantage of my vulnerability. She likes to feel needed, and I needed her. Until she decided I wasn’t worth it anymore.

Honestly though I’m grateful that all of this happened. I’m definitely stronger now because of it. And, more importantly, I know what I’m worth. Yes, when I hit rock bottom I sucked as a human and hurt her. I’m not trying to shrink responsibility for that. But also, I was at my absolute lowest. My brain couldn’t take anymore, and I was out of coping mechanisms. And ultimately the reason I ended up hurting her was because she fostered this unhealthy attachment- this need for her for survival. And when I was at my absolute lowest, instead of checking in on her supposed best friend, who was clearly not okay, she ran.

I’m worth more than that.

I’m normally a kind, funny, generous human being who goes out of her way to help people. Who is a good listener. Who stresses way too much over grades. Who cries when she sees roadkill on the side of the road. Who is addicted to Starbucks. Who is goofy and loves a dance party to Taylor Swift songs. Who buys candles just for their packaging- but never lights them. Who wants to be a teacher purely so she can make a positive impact on her future students’ lives. Who plans on keeping extra food and clothes in her classroom, so her students are always fed and dressed in clean clothes.

And she ignored all of that. All of the positives. All of the, hopefully, endearing weird quirks. Choosing only to see the one moment where I was trapped like a caged animal inside my own brain.

This took me a long time to forgive myself enough to be able to say it, but now I cannot say it enough- I am not me when I am wrapped up in an anxiety attack or panic attack. That does not define me as a person.

And I’m definitely not trying to say I’m perfect or a saint. I know I’m no where near that. But I guess what I am trying to say, is that a true friend will stick with you through the highs and lows. Because they know who you really are. And she didn’t.

She still thinks that we’re friends, but I’m not so sure that I have a place for her in my life anymore. I don’t know if the true her is the her who held me while I cried after I told my parents about my eating disorder, or if the true her is the person who didn’t give a *#$! that I was in pain for two months. The person who kept lying to me.

All I know is that I’m worth more than what she made me out to be. I’m not some broken thing that she needs to fix. I never was.

-X

Lessons.

Lessons.

by themusingsofatwentytwoyearold ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

This post is a little bit different from my other posts, but I just wanted to share a few life lessons that I’ve learned over the past year.

  1. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is struggling. So be kind, because you never know what someone is going through.
  2. Put on your own oxygen mask before helping others. Not taking care of yourself helps nobody.
  3. Never ever live with someone you have feelings for. With the exception of marriage. When things go wrong, it’s miserable – you can’t get away from it. And yes I know this makes me sound jaded, and people will disagree with me on this one, but it’s a lesson that I learned the hard way.
  4. Breathe. Specifically “square breathing.” In for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, breathe normally for 2. Repeat. It helps more than you think it will.
  5. Mistakes happen. Don’t beat yourself up for them. Just try to do better next time.
  6. Always be the sun. Never be a planet orbiting around someone else. You exist for so many reasons- your sole purpose in life should never be to make someone else happy.
  7. You cannot be everything for everyone.
  8. Find a hobby- something that you do purely because it makes you happy.
  9. Perfection does not automatically equal good. I repeat, you do not have to be perfect to be good.
  10. No matter how awful you feel, you will always get through it. The sun will continue to rise, and eventually you will be okay.
  11. Don’t be afraid to let go.
  12. Your real support system will be there when you least expect it. When it feels like everything else is crashing down.
  13. When in doubt, pet a dog. Seriously, my dog has gotten me through so many anxious days.

I really don’t mean to come across as preachy here, but as I was going to bed I was thinking about all of the things that I had learned recently and wanted to share. Hopefully, reading this will resonate with someone, and maybe even help them. Anyway, I’m actually going to bed now. Goodnight, Internet.

–X

Growth.

Growth.

by themusingsofatwentytwoyearold ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I thought I was over it. I thought I had really, truly found my peace with what happened with my best friend. My therapy session actually ended five minutes early this week because I was doing so well. I had accepted responsibility for what I was actually responsible for, and nothing more. I had accepted how toxic, and anxiety inducing, my relationship with my best friend had gotten.

But then my best friend came back to finish moving out of the apartment today. And I was caught off guard. And then I was swept away by a wave of hurt. Seeing her in person hurt. I was reminded of all of the ways in which she hurt me. Honestly in which we hurt each other. And when the wave of hurt washed across me, it took my inner peace with it. And I was left feeling caught off guard, vulnerable, anxious, and abandoned. On the verge of tears.

Normally, I would have immediately retreated to my room. Isolated myself. Made myself feel worse and more alone. Worthless. But today I couldn’t do that. My dog is staying with me and locking myself, and him, into my room for the entirety of the weekend is so completely unfair to him. So I made myself stay out in the living room and deal with the hurt. And I’m not going to say that I did it perfectly. I definitely didn’t. I ended up restricting. But I still ultimately ate something for dinner.

And then I paused and realized just how much progress I’ve made. Even from a few months ago. I didn’t let me emotions, or my anxiety, completely overwhelm me as I’ve done in the past. Instead I allowed myself to feel them. And let them pass without a reaction. Even a month ago, that would’ve been nearly impossible. And I realized that, wow, I’m really proud of myself. I’ve grown so much in the past few months. And that’s an accomplishment worth celebrating- at least in my humble opinion.

-X

Control.

Control.

by themusingsofatwentytwoyearold ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“The only thing you can control is how you react to your emotions.” That’s what my nutritionist told me this morning, and I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear those words. I have spent so much of my life trying to control things that I have no control over. Looking at you, Ed. I cannot control anything other than myself, and the only thing that I can control in myself is how I react to my emotions. I can’t even control my emotions.

In a way, this is so incredibly freeing. I always have this strong urge to fix everything. Not even just in relation to myself, but also for other people. If my friends are hurting, I feel like I always need to be the one to fix it. This is probably my inner perfectionist making an appearance. But now, I feel like I can finally stop trying to fix everything all of the time. If my best friend decides to ignore me for two weeks without giving me an explanation, it’s not up to me to fix it. Not everything is my problem. The only thing I’m in charge of is how I cope with the feeling of being caught off guard and hurt.

In the past, my first reaction would be to restrict. Now, although that thought does occasionally come up, I’m, for the most part, able to tell Ed where he can stick it. Restricting doesn’t fix anything. In fact, a lot of the time, the lack of adequate nutrition heightens my negative emotions and makes everything exponentially worse.

On the other hand, getting myself out of the apartment, being more open with other friends, and taking dance classes are all things that help. Mind you, they don’t fix the actual situation, but they do allow me to feel more grounded and less overwhelmed by my emotions. Because the only thing that I can control is how I react to my emotions. I cannot control the rest of the world. And right now, this is something that I really need to remember.

-X

Acceptance.

Acceptance.

by themusingsofatwentytwoyearold ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Over the past three weeks, I’ve been working my hardest to climb out of my rock bottom hole. I’ve been pushing myself to reach out to more friends, to cope in healthy ways (like taking dance classes), and to eat even though I’ve had literally no appetite. But whenever I reach the ledge of possibly being okay, I get knocked down again.

I always get knocked down by the same thing- my relationship with my best friend. Or should I say ex-best friend. I don’t even know anymore. We’re not on solid ground.

Three weeks ago, at the beginning of this whole ordeal, I had convinced myself that I was the problem in our relationship. However, I found out that she was never really mad at me- she was just overwhelmed by her life and needed space. Later, I found out that she also thought of me as an emotional drain, and that is why she specifically needed space from me. But I also realized that I was not the problem here- I hadn’t actually done anything wrong. The only thing I had done was exist.

I tried my absolute hardest to give her what she needed, especially as she kept promising that it was only temporary, but when it got to the point of her pretending that I didn’t exist when we were both in the communal spaces of our shared apartment, for four days straight, I couldn’t let myself hurt any longer. I had to say something.

And so I did. I tried to express to her that I was hurting. That all I wanted was a conversation, so I could explain to her why her ignoring me hurt the way it did. And she refused. She accused me of making her feel guilty for needing space- which was never my intention. She told me she wasn’t going to respond to me again.

And so I let her go.

I’m now doing my best to accept that she wasn’t who I thought she was. At least, not anymore. That all of her promises about unconditional love and loyalty, were empty. I realized that at her core, she’s really a selfish person who doesn’t care who she hurts. I know she’s going through something right now, but so am I. Just because you’re going through a tough time doesn’t give you an excuse to not care when you’ve hurt someone close to you. I know I’ve definitely hurt my fair share of people when I’m in pain, but never, not once, have I ever not cared about the fact that my actions had caused someone else emotional pain.

And accepting that I probably need to let her go is so exceptionally hard. Aside from the fact that at one point I was in love with her, our lives are so intertwined. We live together. Her family was planning on staying at my family’s house for graduation. And it sucks even more that our relationship deteriorated like this right before graduation. And it’s hard not to hold out hope that things will fix themselves. That we’ll end college on a good note.

But at this point, I think I’ve been holding out hope for too long. Something changed. And I need to accept the fact that the girl who was my rock and my safe space for the past two years, is not anymore.

-X

Float.

Float.

by themusingsofatwentytwoyearold ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. My anxiety has become pretty debilitating. Leaving little room for anything other than essentials. School work, sleeping, drinking (water, of course), and unfortunately eating. I feel like all of the rest of my time is taken up by panic attacks. It’s exhausting honestly- panicking all of the time. And it leaves little time for anything else.

I’m alone in the ocean, and I’m too tired to keep swimming.

My last therapy session, I had a conversation with my therapist which really stuck with me and is helping me beat myself up less for what feels like constant panic attacks.

We had talked about needing to slow down my panic, and so my therapist asked me what the warning signs of my panic attacks were, and I didn’t have an answer for her. She then told me that most people knew that they were about to panic when a feeling of anxiety developed. I then realized that this was the problem. I had no idea when I was about to panic because instead of getting an indicative feeling of anxiety right before a panic attack, I am literally anxious all of the time. Therefore, panic attacks feel random and unpredictable to me.

I also realized that I’ve had pretty severe anxiety as long as I can remember. I used to get so anxious about getting on the school bus every morning because it was unpredictable and I had no idea where I would be sitting. But I just thought that everyone got this anxious about getting on the school bus. Or field day. Oh my God, field day. Field day was my least favorite day of the year in elementary school. I wasn’t overly athletic, and I used to lose sleep in the months leading up to the big day. I was so worried about what people would think about me. In my mind, if I wasn’t excelling at something, I was completely failing at it.

The difference is that now, I’m recognizing this constant anxiety is not normal, and my brain is too exhausted to cope by itself anymore. That’s why the eating disorder developed. My usual coping mechanisms weren’t working, and so my brain decided to try something else. In the form of an abusive asshole named Ed. And now that I’m in recovery, and trying my hardest to not use Ed to cope anymore, my exhausted brain has absolutely no coping mechanisms. And so I spend the majority of my day suffering from panic attacks.

I don’t really have the time or energy to do much else. Staying afloat is hard enough.

And so I’m probably pinning an unhealthy amount of hope on my psychiatry appointment next weekend. While I know that getting anti-anxiety medication won’t be a magical solution, I’m hoping that it’ll at least give my brain a fighting chance in this battle which it is currently so terribly loosing.

And so if you’re reading this, and it resonates with you on any sort of level, my advice to you is this: you don’t have to swim, you just have to stay afloat; eventually, there will be a life preserver. (I feel like it’s important to note here that this life preserver doesn’t have to come in the form of medication.)

-X