Archives for category: Anxiety

Weird day at work. I’m ready to move on from that.

What’s this really about? (It’s probably a metaphor)

I had a moment of aggravating conversation at one point during my day, with a relative stranger, and on a rather delicate topic – my weight. Yikes. How does a person approach someone they don’t know well at all, and with a rather mundane mixture of erroneous assumptions and internal narrative, come up with a good rationalization to open the door on the topic of weight and weight management with an irritable middle-aged fat chick on the bus?? Inquiring minds want to know, because frankly, I know me – and I would not attempt it. I must have grown some over the years. I politely listened to the litany of “have you tried”s, followed by what may very well be Amazon’s Top Ten Self-Help Books to Read in 2018, finished off with a hearty portion of “I had a friend who…”

<sigh>

  1. Mind your own business
  2. You don’t know me
  3. Damn, I’m so done with that conversation

I think what made it most distasteful (beyond the fact that I did not solicit an opinion on the subject, nor seek conversation with the individual), was the way off assumptions – beginning with the underlying assumption that all of the health concerns of someone who carries more weight than is aesthetically pleasing to another human being are therefore to do with the weight. Keep your fucking aesthetics to yourself, please. lol I’ve got my own – and trust me, I’m already hard enough on myself without additional bullshit and baggage offered up for free by a stranger who probably needs some therapy, themselves. Seriously. Damn. Move along.

There’s already a surplus of constant nagging and criticism in the world, generally. It’s not necessary, or in most cases at all helpful, to add to that steaming pile. Let it go. Don’t think a fat chick is attractive? Well, the next step is not a conversation starter like “you know, you’d be cute if…” or “I don’t mind older gals, but…” (yes, people say this shit actually out loud). If you don’t think a fat chick is attractive… walk the fuck on. It’s that simple. You don’t find someone hot? They aren’t obligated to meet that need for you, you have options in life, and suggesting they change for you needn’t be among those. You have no claim on their time or appearance, and it isn’t even a little bit appropriate to “make suggestions” for “doing something about it”. Just stop.

It got me thinking, though, on my way home, and specifically got me thinking about The Things That Work versus The Things That Do Not Work – and how subjective that is, and also how easily led we really are as creatures. Think about it; if you are content, comfortable, and healthy and someone markets thin-ness to you sufficiently repetitively with enough catchy slogans, you may quickly find yourself wondering “how to get rid of these extra pounds” (that you don’t have in the first place) in order to meet some ideal of beauty (that no one actually measures up to) or risk being a failure… in life… in work… in the bedroom. Yikes. Heavy. (lol, Yeah, I went there.) Self-help fads of all kinds are constantly pushed on us – but first, we’re made to feel inadequate and discontent, to soften us up and make us hungry to spend our money on that shiny new life being dangled out there… just out of reach. Some of that shit works… for someone. Some of it works for “many” people. Very little of it works for “most” people. I assure you, chances are, none of it works for everyone. It just doesn’t. Buuuuuut… find the thing that works for you, whatever that is, and stick with that… change happens. Just don’t get distracted by the slow rate of change, or the lack of real impact that change may (at least initially) have… because… oops! Back to square one as you (we, I, whatever) hop right back on the treadmill, cycling through self-help tips, tricks, and techniques that helped at least one other person at least once, but possibly not you, ever… Well that doesn’t sound at all productive. :-\ (I hate wasting my precious limited lifetime; I have already wasted so much.)

I end up there, too – well, I have. “Try. Fail. Begin again. Try something else. Fail. Begin again.” Over and over – forgetting that the most effective and efficient approach is to remember what works – then “Try. Fail. Begin that working thing precisely all over again and do that. Try. Fail. Begin again with that very thing that was just working until I failed myself, and do that.” This is a path to growth and change. It looks very like a darker stranger path, though, one that leads to a whole lot of endless bottomless nowhere, which is annoying because “Try. Fail. Do exactly what has never ever worked, and do it harder” over and over looks rather similar, but does not lead to change, or growth, only frustration and eventual madness. Knock that shit off. Also avoid the pitfalls of “Try. Fail. Flail wildly through all the try-able things without committing to anything or giving anything a chance to work. Begin again – but don’t give any one thing a second chance, and if something starts to work – sabotage that shit immediately” – personal experience suggests this is also not a winning strategy. lol Yep. Done those, too. Very human. My results, as a result, have varied – a lot.

I guess sorting through all the shit to try is a place to begin again. Sift out what hasn’t worked in a frank and honest way. Reflect on what has worked – and why it worked, if that is knowable. Repeat what works best – for you. Your results may vary. You are having your own experience. How is a writer (however self-help-ish-ly they write) hundreds of miles and many years removed from your experience actually going to know with any certainty what will work for you? I mean… better than you? Well…  maybe. Some stuff. Okay. I get you on that – me too. I do like data. I’ve worked hard to be as self-aware as I am, and still have a lot of work to do in that area. Adulting is fucking hard. But, once you’ve tried something, and are able to acknowledge based on experience whether it works for you or not… why repeat what doesn’t work? Seems very impractical. Although…

Some stuff just need practice. For some practices, the incremental changes over time are not recognizably easy to see. Fuck – that all just got a lot more complicated, didn’t it? Do you know yourself? Can you recognize what does work, in order to rule out what does not? Based on what data? Whose opinion? Who are you – and where do you want to get in life??

It begins so simply, so often; in practice, selected changes, desired, sought changes can be difficult. It’s the “in practice” portion of the experience that I find is the challenge… What am I practicing? Is it actually what works for me? Who decided that? If it wasn’t me – why would I trust that opinion over my own experience of myself? …And am I actually practicing?

Today, the needle moved on the scale (in the desired direction, I mean). Fucking finally. Tomorrow? Of course. I begin again. 🙂

The long weekend ahead remains more or less unscripted. Planned and re-planned. Plans were made, changed, abandoned, revisited – and done away with. I’ve no idea what I will actually do with the time, with myself, with these precious moments. 🙂 I don’t know if I’ll hike, write, or take a too long drive to spend too few minutes in the arms of Love. I’m okay with all of that, for the moment, and letting the moments manage themselves as they will.

Time spent at ease, really relaxing, letting go of stress, isn’t just time well-spent, it’s also great self-care.

I relax by the fire, content, calm, and filled with quiet joy. No particular reason or obvious cause, besides the holiday weekend ahead, and life’s simple beauty. Isn’t that enough? 🙂

I left work later than I’d planned, after getting both more and less done than I intended – and needed – to do. I slumped against the hand rail in the elevator as the doors closed around me, alone at long last. Tears didn’t wait. I stoically stepped off the elevator doing a first-rate impression of being dry-eyed and calm.

I messaged my Traveling Partner that I would be heading home. It’s of no direct consequence for him, though, is it? Hardly. I’m here. He’s there. Fuck, why do I do this? I wonder as I buckle in for the commute home. Rain. I start the car – my washer fluid warning tells me I’ve run out. Shit. Really? Today? God damn it. As I pull out, the “time for an oil change” reminder comes on, too. My lips tremble. I’m not up to this. I’m not adult enough. It’s too much…

My phone bing-bongs at me. I haven’t pulled out of the parking lot, and stop, set the break, and check the message. Love and well-wishes for a safe drive from my Traveling Partner. More than that, really, a proper love note, heart-felt, yearning, and reminding me how much I would be missed if I didn’t make it home. Wow…

…I cried most of the way home, the slow enduring weeping of strong emotion that won’t be defeated. Not quite “happy tears”, just… relieved? Reassured? Profoundly moved. I took care with the drive, hearing the reminder still fresh in my thoughts and in my heart. I made it safely home in the usual amount of time, maybe less, and with far less stress – I’m sure there’s something to learn from that.

The box on the stoop reminded me again how loved I am. I sat down on the stoop, in the rain, and just fucking wept. “Too much.” Too much stress in the week, too much emotion in the moment, and it all came pouring out at once, on my front step, on a rainy night. When I became to cold for sentimental moments, too rained on to pretend I wasn’t cold, and my tears had dried, I gathered up my package and went into the house. I messaged my partner, so he’d know I was indeed home safely. His evening had already moved on to other things, and I don’t expect any immediately reply, so I move on to a hot shower, a few more tears, and then make a healthy bite of dinner.

I hurt, but it’s just pain. I’m not on the edge of tearing someone’s head off over nothing, or disintegrating into a sodden tearful wreck. It’s a quiet evening. I have made a lovely home here. I start a fire in the fireplace and take a seat on my meditation cushion, and feel “too much” begin to fall away, leaving behind only enough.

When life feels miserable day after day, it can get to be hard to recognize good times. Like sorting a large quantity of small things very quickly, even the focus on one specifically sought characteristic will not, alone, be sufficient to be certain of not tossing that one special object to the side quite automatically. It’s a thing people do. I know I’ve done it, both quite factually as a matter of course while sorting small objects looking for one specific thing, but also metaphorically, in life, mired in shitty times, completely unprepared to appreciate the good time I was seeking when it does turn up. The result can be a particularly nasty stew of “my life is complete shit” kinds of experiences that feel deep down dark, and which linger over endless tedious hopeless grindingly endured moments that seem… beyond bleak. Apathy and despair can become character qualities. Sorrow can become who we are.

My best recommendation applies throughout life across demographics, and I can’t imagine it not being applicable nearly any day, any time, and in any sort of relationship or circumstance; make a point of enjoying the things that are enjoyable, make a point to be aware of those things, to savor them, to bring them to mind and share them. If you do nothing else differently in life, this small thing may still tend to result in life feeling generally more enjoyable. No kidding. Of course, your results may vary, and I can’t possibly do the actual work of practicing practices for you. I do wish you well – and I know with certainty that your results with be consistent with your will to practice. You may fail. Only you can stop you from beginning again. 🙂

Today has been lovely. Sandwiched between two insanely busy weeks at work (oh, yeah, I can be quite certain of that in the week to come), this has been such a sweet relaxed weekend. I got a few things done, but the thing I got done with the most skill was that I took care of myself well, and got the rest I needed. I had some fun, and made sure to take care of myself, not just have a good time. I enjoyed some wonderfully connected time with my Traveling Partner, in spite of distance, merry loving moments that are memories as real as any time we share in the same space. I’m glad that I noticed what a lovely weekend I was having, well before it began to end, so that I could also enjoy enjoying it – total enjoyment. It’s been nice. I definitely recommend going beyond enjoying the things you enjoy, and also enjoying that you are enjoying them while you enjoy them. 😀

It’s evening now, though, and the weekend is ending gently. There is a last load of laundry in the dryer, and an unfinished list of things to do that isn’t troubling me at all; it’s all stuff I can do during the week.

Tomorrow is Monday. I’ve no idea what it will really be like, probably just fine – it usually is, now that I’ve learned to allow that to be a thing. 🙂 I smile, finish my brand name flavored fizzy water while also smirking at myself for liking it in the first place, and head for my meditation cushion. It’s a nice ending to a lovely weekend.

The commute home tonight was rich with one of my least favorite things that is so common that it seems quite ubiquitous, perhaps even a default in our so very human behavior… a lack of basic consideration. Consider that, if you would, for a moment – consider the nature of consideration, and of “being considerate” – what does that even mean? Is the meaning quite literal, as in “to give consideration to a thing, person, moment, or choice”? To consider something? Is it more subtle? Certainly, consideration doesn’t seem very common.

Tonight I saw drivers pause as a light turned yellow, clearly positioned to note that the row of cars ahead had no room for an additional car to queue up – then choose to pull forward into the intersection, from a stop, and able to see that there was no additional room for another car, and continue to pull forward until they were stopped in the intersection. A four-way intersection with a signal light – filled with cars filled with people so lacking in consideration that the increased congestion during the commute, and the inconvenience to cross traffic, just wasn’t as important as pulling forward some 20 feet or so, to avoid waiting through the next light. Weird, right? No, uglier than that; inconsiderate.

I saw, also, drivers so anxious in traffic that they were driving at the extreme left or right edge of the lane, crossing over into (left side) the left turn lane or (right side) the bicycle lane, or right turn lane, and making it basically impossible to see further down the road (their own visibility was more important than being safe). Inconsiderate and unsafe.

I saw drivers commuting in full darkness without any tail lights at all. I saw them commuting without their headlights on. Dangerous. Definitely – but also really inconsiderate; any other driver affected would likely experience some additional stress. Rude. Thoughtless. Seriously? Driving in the dark without lights?

For a while, I was behind a transit bus driver clearly making it a committed point not to pull out of the traffic lane to make pick ups or drop off passengers. Instead, he just sort of angled the nose of the bus toward the curb, and in one case managed to impair two travel lanes, a bike lane, and a right turn lane – within a few feet of an intersection, which immediately filled with cars operated by drivers too inconsiderate to watch ahead of themselves far enough to recognize the congestion developing, and so filled up the intersection, impeding the cross traffic, too.

People crossing the street, in the dark, during rush hour, on a busy road, filled with inconsiderate angry drivers… crossing the street, but not on a cross walk, or at an intersection, just jaywalking right on across all 7 lanes (two travel lanes in each direction, a center turn lane, and right side bike/turn lanes in both directions) – wearing all black. What the fuck?? Seriously? That’s… wow. Yeah, I can’t see those pedestrians at all; I count on detecting the interruption in oncoming headlights to alert me of the jaywalking pedestrians. I wish they would consider wearing reflective clothing.

Each choice we make, in each moment of impatience, frustration, or hurry, affects every human being’s path we cross. Every dick move. Every bit of entitled bullshit. Every shortcut, every cheat, and every time we “break the rules” to convenience ourselves holds the potential to seriously fuck over someone else – and if you don’t care about their experience, well… that’s inconsiderate. Simply that; you are not considering them, or their experience, or even, in some cases, your own safety.

I’m not pointing any fingers. I have my moments. Being considerate is a really big deal for me, and I put a lot of work into it – I try to keep that set to maximum consideration full-time. Sometimes I miss. Sometimes I’m the inconsiderate jerk.

Tomorrow I get another chance to begin again, to be more considerate, to be more kind, to be more aware of the human beings around me, each having their own experience.