piling on

 

grief in two part.  the first is loss.  the second is the remaking of life.

 

anne roiphe

 

another loss in my life has left me more angry than anything.  but underneath that old familiar friend lies another hole.  i feel hollowed out, tunneled through, an open wound.  i keep thinking i will get sad for the loss of the only job i ever loved but i don't have the energy for sad.  anger and emptiness leaves nothing else.

 

i've learned a lot in these last 4 1/2 years of loss upon loss but what i haven't learned is how to hold on.  now the losses feel normal, expected, ultimately inevitable.  even the replacing of things feels ridiculous.  as if they too will be lost in the long-run, but more likely in the short-run. 

 

there is little worry over another job, in fact, i've already had an interview.  the anxiety is over my inability to even care!  perhaps i live under the false belief that each loss will be the final straw that breaks this camel's back but when that doesn't happen i find myself wondering, seriously wondering, if i have the ability to respond properly to things anymore or if i'm numb to what's happening to me. 

 

while my anxiety is ever-present it surrounds mostly small insignificant things.  the big things touch me very little.  for example, i'm much more worried about tomorrow's trip to trader joe's: the traffic, full parking lot, busy store, the unavailability of some things on my list, rather than the much bigger and more dire circumstance of my dwindling bank account and employment status.  go figure.

grace and peace   

anniversary

today marks my second anniversary at rhino books.  i have loved books my whole life.  i've eaten, dreamt, talked, hoarded, argued and read books since i was 3.  i've worked in libraries but this job is the first time i'm buying and selling books as a career.  i've learned a lot and have so much more to learn.  it's a delight to love what you do.  i've never experienced it before.

 

my favorite part is, "do you have any recommendations?"  "why, YES I DO! tell me the last thing you read that you really loved" and i can almost always help you find the next one...

 

the book business is hard these days but there's no place i would rather be. 

 

grace and peace and BOOKS!

 



day after day

i feel like i should be writing more often but i've gotten to the point that i just don't know what to say.  it's all the same:  i'm anxious.  i'm exhausted.  i'm broke.  i'm scared.  i'm alone.  i'm angry.  i'm tired of saying the same things and feeling the same things but it's the way things are now.

 

one of the awful effects of PTSD and anxiety (as with depression and physical illnesses, i would imagine) is the inability to imagine life on the other side.  hopelessness:  what if it never gets better?  what if the therapy doesn't work? what if it makes me worse?  what if the medicine stops working?  what if i feel like this FOREVER?!

 

i would like to think that it's the anxiety talking but i've felt it so long that i've begun to think it's just who i am now.  i can no longer separate myself from this "disorder."  i feel like i no longer have PTSD but that i am PTSD. 

 

i hate PTSD!  (but i don't hate myself...so there's that.)

 

grace and peace

   

four and counting

here's the only way i know to describe it:

 

4 years ago tonight i feel as if i was diagnosed with a terminal disease that won't kill me.  i feel like i've just been waiting to die.  not constantly fearing my death - i have a great faith and believe in Heaven and believe 100% that i will spend eternity there - it's a waiting.

 

as if my car tires lifted off the ground as i drove through the raging water and, 4 years later, they have yet to touch ground.  so much of me died that day:  who i was, who i thought i was, my belief in my future, my belief in myself, my sense of safety and security, my fearlessness, my self-assuredness, my ease. 

 

now i'm 4 years removed and it feels as if it's all happening RIGHT NOW!  they describe PTSD as the brain "shutting down" to protect itself therefore keeping itself in the HERE and not allowing it to process memories as the PAST.  so here i am.

 

i'm grateful that i have a have a job to go to - that part of the day passed without fanfare.  now i'm home and the tears won't stop, my heart won't stop pounding, i can't stop pacing, i can't eat, i didn't sleep at all last night.  i don't hold out much hope for tonight.  i wish i were a person who could just let anniversaries pass without dwelling on them but i'm not that person.  i feel them.  i REALLY feel them.

 

3 1/2 years of anxiety (the anxiety didn't start until i moved back into the house in october 2010) and i feel like i'm just waiting to die.  waiting.  to.  die. 

 

it's not a good feeling, it's not a normal feeling, it's just what i feel.  i am grateful for a good many things:  it didn't rain today, i have a good job that i love, i came home to my sweet pets, i have the weekend to process and (hopefully) relax.  i have friends who know EXACTLY what i'm going through because it happened to them too, i have a God who is bigger than my anxiety and i didn't die in the flood (some people did!)

 

grace and peace

 

  

margaritaville for the anxious

friday - i stood outside talking with a neighbor while walking winston before work.  it took no time at all before we began to talk about the flood and the long and difficult aftermath which we continue to live every day.  we talked about our desires to walk away from these houses and live in tiny one-bedroom apartments or caves or cars or anything but these houses that we hate.  i think it's impossible to ever feel better while having to live here.  i'm here.  i'm not going anywhere.  the house is worth so much less than i owe and SO much less than it was worth.  it's just my reality but it's a hard one to accept.

 

saturday - the day i have looked forward to and dreaded for several weeks.  lunch with friends.  at a restaurant!  without one of my 2 "safe people" kelly or kim.  the friends i was meeting today i have known for more than a decade and i love all 4 of them.  but it's me, out in public, vulnerable and afraid.  i couldn't sleep, i wanted to cancel, i took a long time to get ready, i forgot my cell phone!  

 

i spent the whole trip to the restaurant trying to remember my friends cell phone numbers in case i had to find a way to call (either from work close by or from the CVS which is my only pre-approved place within spittin' distance.)  my fear was that if i got there and couldn't go in i couldn't call to explain or call to have one of them come out and help me in.  my anxiety keeps me from being able to enter places alone or even enter them at all if circumstances seem dangerous. 

 

i parked and was able to sprint to the entrance as 2 of them walked in.  whew!  i made it.  i was a wreck and immediately drank a glass of water to help me breathe.  my friends understand!  by the time my other 2 friend arrived i was feeling a bit better.  by the time the food and our margaritas got to the table i calmed down.  i had a great time but the first second i sat down in the car i said aloud, "i'm glad that's over!  i had a good time but i'm SO glad it's over." 

 

it still amazes me that something so "easy" for others to do (and easy for me 4+ years ago) is SO HARD (sometimes literally impossible) for me now.  i got almost home before the panic attack set in.  it lasted a good long while.  now i feel rode hard and put up wet.  can't wait to lie down.  think i'll turn the computer off and put a funny movie on.

 

love to my friend who buried a young cousin today.  i can't imagine that pain.  i love you!

(just for clarification - my giving up restaurant food for lent was not meant to include all restaurant food.  it was my thought that i would not get eat outside food when i had the option of cooking or making meals myself but that i would allow myself to actually go out to eat with other people.  during lent i have eaten 3 meals that i didn't cook for myself:  today and one each with my "safe people" mentioned above.)

 

grace and peace

 

 

the anxiety strikes back

this morning i had my first panic attack in several weeks so i'm both overly anxious and overly tired tonight.  i'm weary of living with PTSD and severe anxiety.  the fact that it can take over my brain in a split second and bring me to my knees is something that is hard to accept.  i was diagnosed 3 1/2 years ago (6 months post-flood) though i've probably been living with PTSD since i was 9 or 10 and just didn't know it.  it's some better but it continues to hang on tooth and nail.

 

i did all i know to do to make the panic attack pass and felt some better while walking the pug.  i had no choice but to go to work (no doubt that makes me feel better anyway) but it was a struggle.  once i have an attack i live in fear of a worse one following closely on its heels.  rarely does that happen but with anxiety the constant fear of a panic attack is often much worse than the short attacks themselves.

 

because i know that God is a gracious God i know that He guided my cousin and her kids to stop by for a visit.  she is one of my favorite people alive!  she never fails to make me laugh and feel better about the world in general.  not to mention, her kids are 2 of the most adorable people in the world!  the rest of the day was nerve-wracking and long but i made it.  i am grateful that i have a bookstore cat to love on days like today.  petting an animal is PROVEN to lower your blood pressure and make you live a longer and healthier life.  thank God for orson!

 

 

grace and peace

  

 

 

anybody willing to pee on my foot?

i'm a bit worried about my anxiety tonight.  about 2 hours ago the bottom of my right heal began to hurt.  feels like it's on fire.  has gotten more intense as time passes.  here's what the last few hours have sounded like in my head:

 

"ouch!  my foot hurts.  i mean it really hurts!  it's burning.  (poke it) ouch!  why is it burning?  it's on fire.  did i step on something?  (no) did I burn it?  (no)  what's happening?  (heart racing)  (walk to the kitchen for ice) ouch...ouch...ouch...

 

"what did I do?  did i step on broken glass?  (there is no broken glass)  ouch!  (remove sock - poke it!)  ouch!  haven't left the house today...it's a snow day...couldn't have stepped on anything...haven't even worn shoes! 

 

"maybe i stepped on a jellyfish - that stings!  (there is no jellyfish)  maybe this is what a jellyfish sting feels like!  amy, you haven't left the house today and you haven't stepped on a jellyfish in the middle of your house in landlocked, hundreds of miles from any ocean, nashville, tennessee!  but...(no buts!) it's stinging!  it's on fire!  OUCH!  what's happening?

 

"calm down, crazy!  (heart pounding)  maybe there is some insulation in my slippers!  no, there hasn't been any insulation in this house since 6 months after the flood.  well, maybe...(no) and, amy, you wore the slippers yesterday!  jellyfish!!!!!!!?????..."

 

see, that's what anxiety sounds like.  i have no idea what's going on with the foot and my pulse is running at about 150 but i've stopped searching the house for broken glass and jellyfish.

 

grace and peace