A Loud Mind

Late night; In a fight. Thoughts holding tight; Don’t feel quite right.

This post will probably not be too cohesive. I can’t sleep and my mind is racing. On to of that, my stomach is under siege by something. So, here I sit with Morgan Freeman on in the background narrating some documentary on death, rituals and God.

Anxiety flourishes over New Year’s resolutions I haven’t started in time. It’s absurd, that I should even think there is a “time” in which to make changes. Yes, there is global momentum around this time of year, but change is always possible. Each day is a new opportunity. Exercise, eating healthy, meditation, mindfulness, and self care. They are always on my list, but never high enough to prioritize as I wish I did lying awake at night. I have been exercising more, and I do, in general, eat a mostly health diet. (Although, I certainly over indulge my Achilles heel; The Great Frozen Overlord; ice cream.)

I had some success with mindfulness and meditation yesterday. I set an intention for the day, via mantra, that I took a few minutes to visualize before crawling out of bed. The day seemed lighter, and my heart was happier. Today, I forgot and returned to the trudge of daily living. It is so hard to take the time, though it’s only a few minutes. Why is that? Perhaps it’s the same reason I’m lying awake right now. My mind chatters too much to focus. Contemplation swirls in mesmerizing patterns, and I lose time and desire to commit any more to quieting the madness. Still, I know I fare much better when I make the time. I need to take the action until it becomes second nature; habituated.

How do I slow this mind enough to turn off my autopilot? Writing is certainly one way I am able to at least slow the flow in my head. Thus, why I am writing right now. Exercise is another tool of the like, as I am focused on my body and usually the clock. Haha.

Meditation seems all but impossible right now. I like to think I am too busy and just have too much going on to slow down. But as I sit here reflecting on it, I am starting to realize that although I am very busy being a mom, student, therapist, partner, and soon teacher, a lot of the chatter is purely of my own making. I can’t count how many goals I set for myself each day, only to pick them off one by one to either completely dispose of or replace with a “better” one. It’s almost infuriating.

I should focus on this. No, maybe just focus on that. I’ve tried focusing on X and Y and Z before and it went nowhere. Focus efforts to A, B and C. But maybe refocus; again and again.  It’s exhausting and meanwhile I’m flying through my day, not present in the current moment, thinking about moments that haven’t or may never happen. Future tripping, someone once described it as. Mindfulness and meditation, I know, can help this. But I guess I just don’t know how to get started. I guess carving out a time and making a quiet space would be a good place to start. I am torn, as always, as to purchasing the Calm app to help guide mediation. I know it works well for me, but I always wind up not using it. I don’t prioritize it, and that needs to change.

All the while I am worried I am not a good enough mother or a good enough partner. I am job searching, getting ready to start grad school, anxious about purchasing a vehicle, wondering how I’ll pay rent in the next few months if I commit all my saving into a car. Pros and Cons, this or that, up or down or inside out? Who knows? Not I.

Silent Screams

When I hurt too much, or experience any negative feeling too intensely, I shut down. I can’t write. I can’t talk. All I can do is try and hold myself together as I’m being ripped apart from the inside out. I hate it. I equally hate talking about it. I don’t know how to put words to the feeling of suffocating while I breath. How can I explain the all consuming fury inside when I appear calm and indifferent. I know these feelings are futile and will pass. I know not to dwell on them, but I know all the same I have to fucking feel them. What good can I do to make anything easier? I pray, I go to meetings, I tackle things one small bit at a time, but I always wind up back here: exhausted, overwhelmed, angry and alone… uhg. >_<

Running on Empty

On days like today, I have no idea how I keep going. I was up at 4am,  because my little one had an accident and wet the bed. Fell back asleep for an hour, woke up, made coffee, made lunch, got the little one up, fed, dressed, then myself, ran out the door (late again), dropped him off at daycare, sped to work, 9 hours working in subarctic temperatures (something is broke in the heating system,) ran to the grocery store for TP and cat food on my lunch break in the rain, took 10 minutes to check out because “self” checkout is more like wait while attendants bounce around to all the machines until they finally help you (by this point I imagine flames blazing in my eyes), back to work through the hail, late, back to the arctic for four more hours… Then I will pick up my little guy, go to the gym (because it is the one “selfish” thing I get to do for myself), find a quick dinner, go to a meeting, go home, put little one to bed, which is a marathon effort of bath time, brushing teeth, getting him to go potty, reading a story, and making sure he has everything he needs to go to sleep. Then I will go wash the dishes, take a quick & quiet shower, and collapse in to bed. Tomorrow, repeat.

Just writing that out makes me feel even more exhausted. I’m sitting here, drinking expired Kombucha, because it was $1.50 off (quality and freshness guaranteed!) I’m worn the hell out and broke. I don’t want to vent/complain to my partner. He is going through some heavy stuff and I’m being as supportive as possible. Still, I feel like I’m going to snap at any moment and just lose my shit. I have no idea what the hell keeps me going.

Perhaps it is unbridled rage at my soon to be ex-husband, who doesn’t have a single responsibility in the world besides going to work. The abusive man-child who still gets kicks making my life a living hell has dragged out this divorce for a year now. The judge has ordered a trial since it is taking so long. He spends part of one day every other week or so with his son, and then pretends like I’m keeping him away from our son. Ask any time Mother F^cker!! I always say yes. Stop playing the victim and take some responsibility for your own life…

Anyway… I’m done venting. I can’t spend anymore energy dwelling in my misery and anger. Time for a chill pill;

…zombie shuffle until bed.

P.S. I do realize that there billions of people in the world living far harder lives than I am. This is just my reaction to my circumstances given the society I was raised in and still struggle to reside.