Tag Archives: advice

Yes, I’m crying and I’m proud

Recently, I have taken up crying in random public places. Work, the mall, parties, the metro station, at the gym, etc. Tomorrow I plan to cry at lunch (because the tears will appropriately salt my food).

If you’ve seen my beautiful rosy, red face covered in salt water and snot, I know you might think I’m a bit crazy. Or, at least, really sad. I want you to know that I’m learning not to be ashamed of my tears by performing this exhibition art.

Ok, so it’s really not planned or exhibitionism. I really am sad as fuck. But, the uber cool thing about crying EVERY FUCKING PLACE IN JOHANNESBURG is that I give no fucks what you think and I know you really don’t care. And, its ok to be sad.

Just in case you feel insane guilt over crying, I’ll say it again.

Let those tears make purple rain across your beautiful face. Purple rain. Purple rain.

Life is hard as those tootsie rolls that are really too old to give out as halloween candy, but some asshole decided it was a good idea to give to you as reward for your fancy ass costume. I just want you to know that I wouldn’t do that to you. But, the point remains. Shit be hard. And, you are allowed to be upset about it.

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Fuck me, I need therapy

Again.

If you are anything like me, I know you’ve had that thought. Your perfectly respectable (also perfectly fucking annoying) mental illness is acting up again and you get to a point, after you’ve cried 12 times in one day, had vicious mood swings, and have the anxiety shits for three days, where you are contemplating handing over $175 for 50 minutes to someone you love but can’t afford.

I’m sitting here with her email address up, wondering if I should take the plunge. Deep down I know what she will say. In fact, I can name them:

1. You’ve gotten married, moved, and basically have no job. That’s a lot of personal stress.

2. Do you have a routine? (In case you are wondering, no I don’t because I’m a fucking child and I’m floundering in some level of personal crisis.

3. Are you taking your meds appropriately? No, because once again clearly I can’t be trusted with my own well being.

4. Are you eating? Yes, I’d like to eat a gallon of ruffles chips right now, but this motherfucker resisted.

5. Are you pregnant? No. Not unless my unborn child is a ninja. (No, really. I checked because I’ve been convinced I’m losing my fragile little mind. Yes, my ass actually took a test out of sheer desperate in a weird parking lot bathroom).

6. This is a lot of transition and change for you to deal with. Do you have a support system? I can’t really bring my anxiety and depression with me to dinner. Unless they were wine bottles named anxiety and depression, then I could do that. I’m trying with people. I generally kind of suck at peopling. I’m trying with people. I generally kind of suck at the social scene. If I’m trashed, I’m wonderful but I don’t think that’s a great way to handle things that make my brain shake.

7. Are you going outside? Yes. I have to walk everywhere. Yayyyyy, physical activity.

8. What’s acting up? Well, I’ve had five anxiety attacks in four weeks (did you know there is a differenxe between an anxiety attack and a panic attack? I did not. I’ve been using the wrong vocab all this time). Then the depression sucks the air out of this windbag and promotes pathetic amounts of slouching.

9. Do you think this has anything to do with returning to a similiar country as the one you were physically attacked in 2012? Probably, but I wish it were more obvious. I try not to let it stop me from doing stuff. Then this guy touched me unnecessarily last week (because stroking my side is a great way to flirt with a random pedestrian) and I just turned around and walked back home. We got stopped by the police and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. So, maybe its acting up more than I’d like to admit to myself. I don’t want it to act up. That’s the thing about someone using a metal pole to hit a home run with your head, it doesn’t really matter if you want it to act up or not. It just does. The other night I was at a function and it was outside so it was pretty dark. The shadows reminded me of people running across the highway in Nigeria and for some reason I couldn’t handle them.

10. How’s this effecting your marriage? It makes me hard to deal with. It’s exhausting. I feel guilty. I’m trying to bury it in the backyard but then the bitch floods.

That’s probably covers a lot of questions she would ask. She’d probably tell me to not be so hard on myself which is generally not my greatest talent.

I guess the thing that makes it worse is feeling like I need to pretend to be ok. Generally, people want to hear that you’re good and life is instagram level fun and move on. I understand that. But, life is messy, people are complex, and joining yourself with another human is an ongoing series of unfortunate events with little peaks of nice-nice.

I guess I don’t have to pretend, but at the same time no one wants to be the debbie downer in a conversation. I mean, I don’t even want to feel like this so no one wants to hear my shit.

Also, I’m pretty sure there is no Wi-Fi on this flight which will severly impact the next ten hours of my life.

Update: I survived.

I tried to cure my perpetual anxiety with hot yoga and I almost died

Also, I know that anxiety isn’t particularly curable, but let’s just pretend.

If you have ever woken up with an invisible body sitting on your chest, then you know that you will spend an innumerable amount of time TRYING TO GET THAT FUCKER OFF YOU.

So, I decided to go to hot yoga for the first time since 2013. I remember the heat being great for pretending that I was sweating out my feelings and stuff.

And breathing. Zen. All that good shit, right? I went to the class in shorts surrounded by posh yoginis and their obligatory yoga gear. I took off my shirt because I didnt want to spend the class fighting with it falling over my head because it was too big and I suck at being prepared.

Everything started out fine. I couldn’t really breathe. My chest hurt. But it was fine.

Then I started sweating like I was in the goddamn desert in a parka. I had to go to the bathroom to wipe the sweat out of my eyes. I had no grip on my mat BECAUSE WHY WOULDN’T I REMEMBER TO BRING A TOWEL SO THAT I WOULDN’T SWIMMING THROUGH A POOL OF SWEAT. That’s right. I was swimming in sweat. The teacher had to get me a towel because I was fucking up her class with my ineptitude.

Then when I finally could grip my mat. I couldn’t see straight anymore and was pretty close to vomiting. You know that feeling when you haven’t had caffeine and your body is raging against you because HELLO ADDICTION. No? Well, ok. My stomach was violently close to expelling acid because I didn’t eat.

So. I walked out 50 minutes in to a 90 minute class. I left my mat (I am sorry I knoe its bad form) and walked to the grocery store to get something to stop me from fainting. And, I am ok with that.

There was a time I would have kept going and made myself sick, but you know what? It’s not worth it.

Sometimes quitting is ok. It’s really not necessary to go full excorist vomit in a yoga class I paid for.

I spent the rest of the day with the heaviness in my chest until I started arguing about current events with hot husband. Go figure.

Sometimes the hill just sucks

Today, I ran a 10k. I wasn’t incredibly fast today, but I had those semi-philosophical thoughts that occur when running up A BIG FUCKING HILL IN THE SUN WHEN ITS 90 DEGREES.

1. Sometimes, in life, we go through periods where it’s just an obscenely large hill that doesn’t seem to end. This hill sucks. However, you have to climb the hill. You don’t have to like the hill. You can be angry at the hill. You can tell to go fuck itself, but really at the end that hill has to be dealt with.

2. It does not matter how fast you climb the hill. It does not matter how fast others climb the hill. This hill is your hill. No other hills will be like your hill. Get up your hill and stop worrying about everyone else’s.

3. The hill sucks but given that you’ll be spending massive amounts of quality time with the hill. You might as well enjoy the scenery. You’ll never be on this particular hill again.

4. Its hot as hades out so you need to ask yourself if you really care if your jiggly bits are out or if you want to overheat. Might as well be comfortable. Take your shirt off and keep going.

5. It doesn’t matter how fast you go, only that you go. It doesn’t matter how fast you were five years ago. You are not the same person anymore.

6. Your hill is unique. It is not comparable to other hills. So stop beating yourself up.

7. At some point you will be alone. You will look behind you and ahead of you and no one will be there. That’s ok. As much as we may be social creatures, at the end of the day, you are alone.

8. There will be some hills that teach you nothing.

9. Life is full of hills. They do not always disappear with your accomplishments. New ones pop up and old ones rise again. Conquering a hill and saying “now I will be happy” is counter intuitive. Be happy in spite of the hills.

10. Rushing up the hills is not going to make the other hills vanish. Might as well enjoy the walk.