Tag Archives: Stress

Where Do We Start… and End?

It has been a long time since I felt comfortable to be myself around someone new. I finally found that person, but things got strained and difficult really quickly. I will not lay the blame on him, I believe that this is mostly my fault, however I will say that it usually takes more than one person for conflict to arise.

He was super sweet and waited almost a month to finally meet me in person because I have been sick, and well I still am. That is one of the problems. I was having a good week when we met and our first date was fun and our second date lasted 40 hours. Then it was back to work, stress, and then my stomach problems came back.

Now I haven’t been talking much about my recent sickness. That is maybe because it isn’t a recent illness, just the most recent flare up. I am in the process of getting a confirmed diagnosis for gastro-paresis. If you don’t know what it is, it sucks. I am sick to my stomach all of the time, I can hardly eat and all kinds of social and environmental factors play a part. Basically to not have a flare up I have to never be under any stress, ever, at all. Now having my diagnosis currently of and anxiety disorder with OCD personality traits, this is a flat out impossibility. I can’t go through a day without something stressing me out, and it is usually little things. Like my computer not working right, or traffic being bad. Normal everyday stress that for a normal person is a minor irritation, takes medication to control not just for my brain, but also for my stomach.

When I get stressed, I get sick. This causes more anxiety, which causes more sick, and the cycle continues. The only way out is to get away from my stressors. Sometimes that means I can’t drive. Other times, well it is impossible. People have to work, but for someone like me the simple act of walking into a job where I might get stressed, so I might get sick puts me on guard, makes me nervous, and eventually leads to where I am now. Trying desperately to prove to my employers that I realy have a disease, and that I’m not making it up.

Now where does the boy come into all this, well we had so much fun the first two weeks we hung out that y stress went down and I started to get better. Then I got stressed out at work, and I vented to him, and we had a couple bad nights and things got awkward, and now we don’t know how to talk to one another, and he wants to be just friends. While there is much more to this, and will get its own post, I will say that it was bad timing. Today I needed desperately to distress after being confronted with the very real possibility that I may soon be unemployed, and I thought he would be the perfect fun relaxed person to distress with. Instead he tried to help me in another way. Which caused me to get upset again and I was ultimately unable to explain things the way I wanted, which again leads me here.

I truly appreciate it when people try to give me advice about things I struggle with. However, let me get through the emotional moment first. Now this could be a moment or a few hours, depending on my percentage of bad brains that day. And this is changing too. I never thought that someone could recover from mental illness, just learn how to live with it. Now I believe that for someone us it changes over time. Which makes sense why my greatest shrink refused to give me a diagnosis. But I got one anyway, and it has changed. I have gotten both better in some things and worse in others. Which equals a whole new diagnosis, and while I know it’s not bi-polar, I’m pretty sure I know what it is, and it isn’t one that I want to fully embrace yet.

I do know that I have been sick, and alone and this makes me depressed. I stress out to the point where I have dissociative anxiety attacks, something I haven’t done in years, and this scares me too. It is scary to know that you live with something that can only be controlled to a point. Something within you that you fight every day, just to make the rational choice and not the impulse that will just make things worse. I don’t always win, but I feel that on the ones I used to lose I’m gaining decent control. Others I am still working on.

I don’t know if I can save my job. I’m going to go to the doctor and try to get into a specialist ASAP for my tummy problems. I am going to consider increasing my anxiety medication for a short time to help with the stomach problem as well. It is very convenient that I’m prescribed something which is given for both disorders. And I’m going to talk to my crazy doctor about my depression problems and the disassociation and see if there is anything that can be done there. I’m not keeping my hopes up that the boy will come around, but I hope he keeps reading this, and will see that I am taking his advice to heart, that I’m reaching for the bootstraps, and I’m doing the best I can. I hope everyone else sees that too.

I don’t want to go through this alone, and I know there are a few of you out there who are there for me both in my personal life and in your comments, and I thank you. This is another long journey, and I can’t do it without support.

So embrace the crazy you have today, even if it is different than it was yesterday, and especially if it rambles along as much as this post.


Stress and Writers Block

For the last year I have been working, on and off, at a job which makes me extra crazy. It increases my stress, because as a tip based job, and a person with anxiety in general, it makes it extremely difficult to make any money. So for the past year I have been struggling not only to write, but resign myself to the necessity of working a job which does not help in any way in improving my mental health.

I have had a number of crappy jobs throughout my life, but it seems that the past few years, while I was trying to finish my Bachelor’s degree and find a suitable job afterwards I have been stuck in the miserable world of sales or equally uninviting jobs, which are based in private contracting and no guarantee of money.

In the end the stress from trying to find a new job and working ones I hate, has made it extremely difficult for me to feel as if I have much to say. Now every now and then I do get on a role. I post regularly and I feel good about that. However, in the past year, despite my spurts of inspiration, I have had some of the worst writer’s block of my life. At least while I was still in school, I could somehow reach into the depths of my mind to come up with something to write, even if it was just for a grade. Now, however, I’m not sure what to say. Also, when I do have something that seems a good idea to write about I seem at a loss of words when I sit down to my computer to write.

Now I’m not the first writer, and will not be the last, who suffers from poverty and writers block. However, while some writers continue to write despite the stress put on the by the lack of steady, or enough income, I seem to be unable to rise to the occasion. I am not sure why this is. I seem to be incapable of the simple act of turning on my computer and just putting words to page, or screen if you will. It is a maddening experience to have our mind strike an idea and not be able to put it into coherent wording. I don’t know if this is a normal experience for writers, but I cannot imagine that I am alone in this difficulty.

I know many writers who have suffered from stress induced writers block, and yet they managed, without friends forcing them, to push through and put words on the page. I only manage this feat when my friend sits me down and in no uncertain terms tells me that I have to write. To visit her means that I must write, if I don’t, then I sit in her room and watch her write and fret even more about my inability to do this seemingly simple act.

The fact is though, that when I am taken out of my normal stress-filled and silent home I can write. Even if it isn’t about anything meaningful, I manage to at the very least write about not being able to write. This in the end makes it more insane to claim writers block. When forced to write, I write. Otherwise, I read. However, once I get trapped in the world of books I can’t stop reading. While this helps with some of my anxiety, it doesn’t help me get out the words which live somewhere beneath the surface of my conscious mind and set them free into the world.

My only solution to the problem, seems to lie in finding a decent job, and going back to school. However, as easy as this may sound, the simple act of finding a job has been the basis for much of my stress in the past year and a half. Despite putting out hundreds of applications and resumes I have still come up with only the jobs which make me more stressed and lead to sickness and hospitalization. I actually get so stressed out while working a job where I am on commission, or I truly hate, that I end up making myself sick with stress. The other half of my solution costs money, and therefore adds a certain amount of stress in and of itself. I know what I plan to get my masters in, but getting into the program is the biggest obstacle of this plan. I might have the GPA and the reference letters, however I have to take the uninviting and $200 test known as the GRE. For those who don’t know about this test, it is the test you take to get into grad school. Like the SAT on steroids. With a healthy dose of test anxiety, especially with standardized tests, and a lack of income at the time of this writing, this seems an extremely difficult task. I’m not saying it cannot be done, I’m crazy so anything can be done; it just won’t be easy.

So I suppose that I will continue to visit my friend, write whatever pops into my OCD brain and hope for the best. I can only do so much on my own and the rest I have to leave to fate to do with what she will. I also have to believe that something or someone has a plan for me. If I don’t I would give up completely, and I’m just not interested in giving up. I am tired though. Tired of being sick, tired of not having words when I call them, and tired of not knowing how I’m going to survive.

If anyone out there has any advice, it would be welcome. However, I am a bit like little lost Alice in Wonderland, “I often give myself very good advice, but I very seldom listen.” So I consign myself to fate. I will continue to try to get a new job, and plan for school. I will write when I can, and I will continue to live as best I can. I might not be able to keep myself from being stressed over my situation, but I am the only one who can keep myself from giving up. I might be tired, but I am far from finished.