Monthly Archives: January 2017

Falling out of windows


I have been known to run in races. I ran one today. It was a 10k in a wine cellar and limestone mine. I did pretty well considering I haven’t been so focused on running.

The one thing after races that always bothers me is I sink very low afterwards. Sometimes I get kind of hysterical. I seem to forget until it happens. I’ve run so many longer, tougher races that I didnt think it would hit me like this. 

Between the news and all the pain I see on the internet, I’d really like to fall out of a window in the least suicidal way possible and give someone my life. 

I will not fall out of a window. I have dogs to take care of and a life to deal with. I just am trying to find the line between staying engaged in my civic duty and trying to donate where I can and write letters and sign petitions, but not let all of it eat me up.

But it eats at me. I’m so far away and its hard to feel connected to my country. So much of the pain is so intense and it doesn’t have to be this way and yet it is. I feel like my heart is being squeezed by a demon. And sometimes it goes away for awhile and then there is another death or terrible thing and it comes back. 

And, I have no right to feel this way.  


I can’t trust my brain at least forty-five percent of the time.

Maybe more. It depends on what time of day it is. January has her claws latched into me and I just calculated how to spend less on my caffeine addiction without having to change my consumption. Then I unsubscribed from like forty emails which was oddly gratifying. 

Whereas a week ago I was all idea mania, the logical one is trying to pick up the pieces and make adult decisions so we aren’t broke. Idea mania wants to give all her money away. The logical one is trying to figure out stock trading. And I am just trying to exist in the neutral zone. Or somewhere in the middle. Or somewhere not inside my brain. 

See, I never really know who is right between the various versions of myself. Maybe they are all right in some way.

I’m trying to let them both have turns without letting either do anything too crazy. I guess this is what parenthood is like. Or marriage. 

But, the hot fiance evens me out when I really need it. He may just have to hide the internet from me on occasion. 

Look at him. So pretty.



No, I’m actually crying. Or I was. I just ate my feelings with chinese food. 

It’d be nice to believe that I’m not an emotional punk, but I am. 

That’s who I’ve always been. The emotional one. Do you know many guidance counselors I have been too? I don’t actually know the answer to that, but this all reminds me why my punk ass is medicated. 

However, there are times where even the medication doesnt stop the devastating feeling when another person hurts me. And it’s ok to be hurt because people have their own motivations for their actions, but…a change has to occur at some point in adulthood so that you don’t end up committing yourself. 

Change is painful. I keep reminding myself that if change was easy it wouldn’t be worth it. I’m starting to realize that it is easy for me to be a dumping ground for pain. People don’t do it on purpose, usually, but the build up of being a box where I let others put their emotions is not healthy. It’s never been healthy. And, it eats away at me.

I am sure somewhere I believe I am helping them, but the truth is they don’t need me for that. No one needs or wants you to suck up all of their pain and make it better. Or maybe they do. I’m not good at diserning these things. 

And I’m the only one it hurts in the end because I believe that my worth is based in my ability to provide you a service. And even though I am good at fixing problems, I am not an objective party. I can’t parse others feelings for them. I can’t motivate them to change their behavior. I don’t have the degrees for that. 

All I can do is wake up everyday and try to be a good human. That’s what my baseline is. No more.

Creativity vs Depression

I’m currently between two extremes:

  1. Massive Creative Mania
  2. Kinda want to wrap myself in depression’s blanket 

I’m sure it would help if I slept like a normal person. Don’t get me wrong, my sleep issues don’t have me up at all hours like they did in 2012-2013.  Mostly, I have trouble shutting down my brain to get to sleep, staying asleep, and then I have insane dreams that either leave me vastly confused about WTF is going on in my brain or upset about the emotional conflict that my brain made up.

Sidenote: I once thought there was a medication that stopped dreams. There is not.

I could deal with the sleep thing if I had benadryl – but I’m all out until my amazon order (Go to the store, you say.  They don’t have it here) comes in. Which is fine, I can hack it until then. Probably.

I feel like I am stuck between two extremes: wanting to do everything and wanting to do nothing.  The internal arguments between the Lindsay’s are particularly interesting and go something like this:

Depressed L: I’m tired
Depressed L: I want to sleep
Depressed L: are you always this loud?
Anxiety: I have to pee 

How do you manage the extremes?  And well the anxiety doesn’t know what to do, so we are currently in the midst of a mental cold war.

And because the creative one is on hyperdrive – I created the below as a compromise.

BeFunky Design2.jpg






I’m just here to see the dog

Hello, my name is Lindsay and I have anxiety.

Socially speaking, it is probably the worst. However, I try to be better about it and that is what counts.

I went to a party a few days ago and I have to admit – my sole motivator was seeing the dog. I have two dogs at home.

See below:

So, really I do not need to leave the house to pet dogs but I need a motivator to propel me into social situations and the idea of hanging out with a dog is generally enough to get me to leave the comfort of my bed fort. Cats and kids are also good motivators. Food is not because then I eat my feelings.

That’s the thing I’ve learned about combatting anxiety is I have to make myself uncomfortable so it gets less hard time. I can’t say that some things (parties) ever get super easy but sometimes I end up enjoying myself.

As such, here is a list of ways I try to make myself go do things

1. Set a time limit

2. Have an exit plan

3. Reward yourself

4. Pet the dog

5. Make it a game

I can’t add a wingman to the list because although comforting it becomes a crutch I use and then I feel like a lost puppy. I still haven’t quite figured out how to deal with that, actually.

Usually if I’m feeling extra twitchy I last about an hour then I try and disappear. I’ve found by disappearing you are less likely to get hounded by well meaning nice people on your way out.

(On my society6 shop – Organized Dysfunction)

You know what else makes me twitchy?

Having to get gas for the car. Only overseas though because in all there countries I’ve lived they pump for you so then you have to talk to them in a different language. So I spend alot of my time with gas light on. You’d think that would be the thing to give me anxiety.

Naked Wedding Planning?

Does anyone else feel naked when trying to plan a wedding?
I mean, figurately. I have clothes on. I have a few more invites to do and I was in the midst of trying to make a Facebook page (because in my copious spare time I overcompensate by spamming you with as much information as possible) and I felt very exposed.

The problem with planning something in obsessive spurts for a year or so is the closer I actually get to the event the more I can hear myself saying “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit” because its really happening. Like, in real life.

I’m not going to toy with you and say that when I was a little girl I never thought about getting married or Prince charming or that I didnt have a minor obsession with being a fabulous ass princess. I did. I loved the idea of it all. I watched all those stupid wedding shows and I had longing crushes on people I would never talk to instead I daydreamed about our romantic courtship and love story.

And, this is why you should monitor how many romance books your kids are reading.

I eventually I buried some of that insanity and became an adult. I still daydream alot, but I think that’s just how I function. In our minds, I think we are probably all someone vastly different than our awkward realistic self. Oh, that’s just me? Ok.

Fast forward to the whole marriage thing where I’m twitching in a corner from not having a good enough event or having people come or what gifts to get the wedding party or trying to figure out my flight pattern or changing my mind about shoes again.

I want it to be right. But, that’s not the point of this whole wedding thing. There is no getting it right. It is literally just having a party because you like this one person enough to try and figure out all the crazy life things out with. That is whats worth getting right because its not about the wedding.

Its about the person trying to help you get all your makeup off afterwards so you can both lay down until ten minutes into it hot husband is like “I’m hungry.”

In this imaginary scenario, there would be room service. Thank goodness.

Walking & Thinking

I’ve found that the surefire way to figure out if I’m being borderline obsessive about something is while I am walking/running/or otherwise moving my body in a direction and this one magical thing happens.


Well, I just fall face first. Last night, while hemming and hawing over something that shouldn’t even be an issue (because it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to) I tripped over my dogs leash and ended up horizontal, in the dark, at 7pm, with my dogs starting at me like I am insane.  

This is the second time in less an a week that this has occurred.  So, I can either blame the whole “trying to work out more bit” or I’m thinking too much about everything.  

Considering that I haven’t slept soundly in like 3 weeks – I’m going to go with thinking too much. 

Why you ask? 

I wish I could give you an answer outside of my epic polyamorous relationship with anxiety and depression (and today’s forecast and the forecast for the last month or so has been anxiety).  

I’m sure it has something to do the impending nupitals and the possible life changes that will also be a result of that.  The invitations are about to go out and things are getting settled, but I can’t help but feel a little detached from the entire process because I’m doing it from far away and I’m not with my hot fiance.  

On the bright side, it’s happening in 129 days and it’s gonna be an awesome wedding.  On the down side, I have no idea when or how we are going to get back in the same location or country or continent (same time zone FTW).  By the time we get married, it will be we will have been apart for 66% of our relations.  

When will I know? 0 idea.  I have to say that not being able to answer people’s questions about the wedding is kind of hilarious – for instance:

1. Are you honeymooning? It depends on what happens his next assignment 
2. When are you arriving at your wedding destination? Something like 6 days before
3. Do you have plane tickets? No
4. When is he getting there? No idea before May 14th one hopes
5. What are you going to do after the wedding? Meh unknown
6. Have you met his family? Not yet

Do you see what I am getting at? I know this situation is kind of ridiculous, but at this point lacking any kind of consistency or surity for so long – its almost become comedic instead of absolutely petrifying (kdding – sometimes it’s still pretty petrifying). 

It’s still worth it. 

And now that this post has effectively become about my wedding, I will end here. 

Life lessons:

1. Don’t walk and think
2. Keep your polyamorous lover’s separate
3. Wedding planning generally sucks, but with the food involved I can’t say no
4. Never run out of benadryl

The Pros and Cons of the Magical Mental Chainsaw Shutdown

Its been a grand total of 3 days since I decided to disable the dream killing factory in my brain in a weird attempt to embrace the unknown. By current estimates, there are four lindsay’s living in my brain shouting about how their idea is the BEST IDEA that ever EXISTED in the entire 29 year history.
Whilst living through this mania, I’ve been moderately productive and pretty creative. I just have too many ideas for one body. In the spirit of sharing, here’s what I have accomplished:

1. Traversed, at a variety of speeds including being dragged forward by my two dogs, almost 15 miles out of 730 miles.
2. Still working on weebly website (this one)
3. Opened society6 shop and did some designs.
PLUG ALERT: You can check out my society six store here and get 15% off with free shipping on the entire society six site (not just my store).

Store name: Organized Dysfunction
I have more ideas I am writing down so I don’t lose them and just when I think I’m on to something BAM another idea or path or option. This is why I can never decide what to buy people for gifts. With my magical mental chainsaw, I would just kill the idea with self doubt and critical logic. However, my MMC (see what I did there) serves a purpose of keeping me from falling off the deep end of the idea abyss.

I guess my point is, I need to turn my MMC into a magical mental masseuse. The alliteration. Kills me. No, really. I need to massage my ideas. Sounds
gross, though. 

The post that was not influenced by the new year.


These numbers sum up my life right now. I must say, they are rather pleasant to ruminate on.

My general goal last year (and probably the year before but sometimes these things take longer to accomplish) was to stop letting the gut-wrenching fear of failure run my life. 

Sidenote: I think I just realized what gut-wrenching really means. Or is it gut wrecking? More on that later.

I think I can safely estimate that I have at least a 72% success rate in the battle with my irrational fears. I won’t say a hundred, because let’s be honest. I still hide from social events with my dogs and even if I go “hang out” my irrational distraction with awkward silences is often my wingman at the party unless I am drinking my face off then I am just a peach gin fizz (is that a thing?).

However, there’s alot less fear sweating and emergency bathroom breaks these days. Which, I feel like more people should talk about. Why is fear sweating so much more uncomfortable than regular sweating? And, why can do I go from regular bladder control to insane bodily functions when I panic. I should look that up. 

Note: Look up fight or flight responses. Because science.

Thus my ephiphany – gut wrenching. Get it? No? Ok.

Any who, my onward goal is to stop killing my ideas with my own mental chainsaw. Don’t worry, I am sure you have that awesome voice in your head too.

The reason behind my goal is vaguely simple-ish. I am getting no-joke hitched to another human (like legally not in a weird horror film way) in 130 days. I have no idea what is going to happen after the big day. I am not going to lie – its hella scary for reasons I can’t explain. So, I am here, dear internet, to build a something. 

So, let’s do this.