Prisoner To Yourself...

For awhile now, I've been trying to pinpoint a certain time that I could say I became agoraphobic, but I haven't been able to.

The fact of the matter is, I've always been agoraphobic; it has affected me my whole life, sometimes being more severe, other times allowing me to be slightly more social and have more of a "normal" life. But it seems that, even at the best of times, I would find myself waging an internal battle: These people are good people; they're your "friends." They want to hang out with you; if you give them a chance, if you go have a good time with them, you'll start learning to trust them... No, no, you need to stay home, where it's safe. They don't really like you; they'll get to know you then stab you in the back. Getting closer to them isn't even worth trying.

It seems that when I first graduated from high school, I was bolder, and more willing to trust people. I was glad to leave the world of high school behind; to me, it was an experience worth forgetting as soon as possible. I felt invisible, trapped in a sea full of immature assholes who thought popularity meant royalty. Yeah right, jackasses; like something as being voted "Prettiest Eyes" or "Cutest Couple" is going to matter in the real world.

Turns out, I was the one who wasn't prepared for the real world.

It's funny, as a teenager I had desperately hoped that once I entered the "adult world," I'd discover that people are mature and respectable; I thought they'd be moral and ethical, honest, and generally try to do the right thing. I thought high school drama would be a thing of the past.

The older I get, the more disappointed I become; the more experiences I have, the more I want to hide in my house, safe and far away from the rest of the human race. The hard part is, this means I trust almost no one... which, while it's never made life easy, it's making life really difficult and frustrating right now.

I heavily rely on my parents and Vuni; they're the only people I call and text on a daily and regular basis. They're my three best friends, and it scares me because I really do not know what I'd do without them. As you can probably imagine, this poses a big problem when they're not available or accessible. Here's examples of, just in the past 24 hours, how that works:

Last night, Vuni had another gig at the fair, so I was home alone. I was having a pleasant enough evening... until I discovered cat pee, yet again. EmmaBear has been good all week about going in her box, so I was pretty distraught. I looked at the clock, wanting to call my mom and cry, but it was already around 10:30, so I knew she'd be asleep... and since I'd called her at work earlier that week, and my dad had scolded me for it not being an emergency (Yes it's a fucking emergency! I was about to punch a hole in the wall!) UGH. And I couldn't call Vuni, because even if he did check his phone in between songs, it wasn't like he could tell his band members and the crowd, "Sorry, gotta take ten, my girlfriend is on the phone having a nervous meltdown.

So here I was, in a "dangerous place," with no one to rescue me; no one to guide me out. It's times like these that controlling urges is the hardest. In the very early stages of my recovery from alcoholism, I never imagined that I would eventually get to a place where I didn't think about alcohol on a regular and daily basis... but I did. In general, I don't think about it, nor do I crave it. Last night, however, I wanted it. I wanted to feel my body heat up as the alcohol coursed through my veins, burning away the pain and erasing the anxiety.


I was also craving an Icee like nobody's business.


After clean up duty and locking EmmaBear in "timeout", I figured I'd go get my Icee then maybe try to find something interesting on Netflix. I hopped in my car, and started to drive to the convenience store down the street. On my way, I passed a liquor store... and thought about how wonderful it would be to stop in, buy a small bottle of vodka, and pour it into my Icee. Just a small one; just for tonight. Vuni wouldn't be home for another 1.5 to 2 hours; I'd be long passed out by then. The thoughts were so strong, I actually slowed down while passing the liquor store...


But no. I have worked so hard to stay sober. I've been sober for 9.5 months; I can't throw away almost a year of sobriety for one night of numbness. 


Plus... why would i want to ruin a perfectly good green apple Icee with something that tastes like poison? ;)

Obviously not green apple ;) This is a cherry one from a few nights ago.

I returned home, watched some Blue Planet (which I've lost count how many times I've seen at this point), spun my legs for a bit as I sipped my Icee, then retired to the couch and waited for Vuni to come home.


It scares me how close I came to slipping; it makes me angry that it takes so much work, so much internal battling, to keep myself from resorting to a negative coping method. It also sucks that everything seems likes an internal battle to me; if I want more friends, if I want to be closer to people, why the hell can I not just let go and make it happen? Instead of torturing myself, instead of coming close to slipping, why couldn't I have called someone up and vented, or begged them to ramble about something just to take my mind off of things?


Because as much as I hate to admit this, it's kind of stating the obvious anyway... my extreme dependency puts a lot of pressure on my parents and Vuni; this morning proved so. I desperately wanted to vent to my mom about what happened, but when I tried to call her, she didn't answer her phone. It took over an hour before she finally answered (no, I was not calling the whole time, just every now and then). By this time, I was grumpy. Angry about the previous night's events, angry that my mom was not around when I needed her. Yet when I got off the phone with her, I was sad. I can't stand to be mad at her, my dad, or Vuni; I can't stand when they're angry with me. Because then who do I turn to?


Agoraphobia and anxiety really do suck :( Not only do they keep you a prisoner in your own home... they keep you a prisoner to yourself. 

Le Puffs

Okay. I have a lot on my mind. I'm stressed, and feeling kinda hopeless. I actually started a post about that last night... but ended up too sleepy (okay- so I have something new to be grateful for: I've been sleeping pretty darn well recently). Anyways, I decided I needed to do a post to cheer me up right now, and I've been meaning to introduce my readers (Hi Mamama!!) to our two little kitty girls <3 (just in case any of my readers happen to NOT be my family or friends, lol ;)


Presenting...

Emerson Ann, aka EmmaBear

Luna Artemis, aka LuHam

Yes, those are mine and Vuni's beautiful kitty girls, aka puffs. Not gonna lie, we are crazy cat people. One look inside our house is a dead give away: kitty toys, furniture, and accessories throughout the house. 

Now more about the girls:

Emerson is a purebred Ragdoll. She just turned 8 years old in July, and I will have had her for 8 years at the end of September. She was an early high school graduation present to me, from my parents. We picked her up directly from her breeder, whose sole career... heck, life... was dedicated to his Ragdoll cattery. EmmaBear has been mine since she was 10 weeks old; we've been through a lot together, and I really don't know what I would have done without her. She was my closest friend during the darkest period of my life, and I will be forever grateful to her.

Emerson seems very aware of the fact that she is a $600 cat (and that's $600 just as a pet; had we paid for her showing license, she would have been $900, and showing + breeding, $1200). She's graceful and dainty, and like many fancy cats, prissy. Even while playing, she's regal and poise. Much of her time is consumed by beauty sleep and grooming. She has an extreme sweet tooth. She loves yogurt and ice cream, apples and cake, and... marshmallows? I kid you not, that goofy cat will eat marshmallows. While not skiddish or shy, EmmaBear is cautious but generally accepting of all admirers :) Her nickname has been around since she was a couple of months old. As a kitten, she use to sit on her hind legs a lot when reaching for toys, and with her insanely beautiful body of soft, cream and brown fluff she looked like a bear to me. She's not a big snuggler, but when she's in the mood to cuddle, she sure is sweet and a total pro ;)

Luna marches to the beat of her own drum. I've never met a spunkier cat; my dad calls her "The Cog" (and also "The Moon,") because she "looks like a cat, but  acts like a dog." No joke. Luna was my Christmas present to Vuni this past year; I felt bad because when we moved in together, he really missed his parents' cat, Jade (whom I call "B," which stands for "bitch," "behemoth," and "bad-breath," for I have never met a grumpier cat). Plus, EmmaBear needed a little sister ;) Luna will be 1 year old on October 6.

Lu is extremely cuddly; the kind of cat who will hop into your lap, purring, and snuggle up to you. I have no idea where this cat got her social skills (though certainly not from her human parents), because nobody is a stranger to her. She loves everyone and is extremely vocal. I think she likes hearing the sound of her own voice, which brings me to her nickname: The Ham. Lu clearly loves herself, and loves other people giving her attention. She literally poses for photos. She's also a little pig; she loves to eat, and often begs for food, both kitty treats and ours.

We love these little puffs so much. I truly believe that kitties, and animals/pets in general, are a wonderful form of therapy. Our kitty girls bring us lots of joy. They are constant reminders of why I can't just give up. If I'm feeling really bad, scooping one of them up and holding her always makes me feel better. I talk to them and vent and cry, and they never judge me, only purr and make comforting kitty noises, reminding me that while life may suck right now, they love me and need me. What is more awesome than coming home from a long day and being greeted by two little kitties at the door? Or waking up to the sound of their jingling bells as they hop up on the bed to greet us good morning? I don't care if they aren't human, they adore us and depend on us... and in return, make us so happy with their cuteness and love! I really don't know who I would be without these two <3

"Make yourself necessary to somebody," -Ralph Waldo Emerson, EmmaBear's namesake

Ironing My Sheets, Dealing With Triggers

It's Sunday evening; Sunday, a day that often equates (at least in my mind) to family and relaxation, good food/drink and fun, maybe some errands and chores. My Sunday was made up of most of these things. I was up at 7:15, and by 8:30, I had already worked out, and was sipping on my smoothie and sorting laundry. The boy got up, we got ready for the day (dressing in comfy Sunday clothes, of course), and packed up the car to head to his parent's house. We stopped at the gas station on our way to pick up some Slim Jims for Vuni, and some coffee for myself... YUM <3 


Now... I'm sorry for this little rant, so skip ahead if you don't wanna hear this ;) but coffee snobs drive me just a little bit crazy. My brother is one such snob, so I don't feel too guilty complaining about this. It's super annoying when people act like convenience store coffee is poison and beneath them, because they can afford to drink a $5 latte catered by a barista every day. Umm, sorry, but some of us just can't afford to dish out $100+ a month on a beverage. A gourmet skinny raspberry vanilla latte is an occasional treat to me, not a daily necessity. I don't drink coffee every day anyway, so my cheap caramel apple flavored "cappuccino" from a dispenser is enough of a treat to me... and I enjoyed every last drop of it!

Caramel apple cappuccino dispensed from a machine? YES PLEASE!

We got to Vuni's parents' house, and I started on our laundry (no, sadly, Vuni and I do not have a washer and dryer- but we are blessed in that our parents let us use their facilities ;). The house was quiet, as Vuni's mom, Aren, and sister, Krisi, were at the grocery store; with the washer going, I decided to relax, drink my cheap cappuccino, and read the newspaper. All was well in the world.


I should note, before I continue, that 21-year old Krisi just moved back in with her and Vuni's parents, after living with friends for a year. Now, I do love Krisi; she is most likely going to be my sister in law one day, and I've thought of her that way for years now... but it's one of those, I love you but you're a pain in the ass type deals. She is almost the polar opposite of Vuni and I: popularity and cool factor means a lot to her, materialism is big, she loves reality TV and Top 40 music, wears $110 jeans (just an example of her materialism), goes tanning and has hair extensions, thinks clubbing and partying are the shit... that kind of thing. 


What makes it truly difficult to be around her, however, is that she constantly seems to be on "a diet." She is constantly complaining about how she is too fat and needs to lose weight. She obsesses about food, calories, and exercise. She has multiple gym memberships, a ton of exercise equipment, a ton of adorable work-out clothes (not to mention, probably 10+ pairs of Nike/Adidas/ect. work out shoes... like, I'm not even kidding), and has taken various diet pills. She is not fat; she has an athletic build, though losing just a little bit of weight would not hurt. But that's besides the point; the fact is, she has been complaining about wanting to lose weight for at least a year, but it just hasn't happened. She starts up, then slips; starts up, then slips. I hate to say this, but... one of the biggest problems is her alcohol consumption. I just wish she would realize that; it would make a big difference :( The thing is... all her talk about dieting and exercising and self-loathing is extremely triggering to me.


When Aren and Krisi returned from grocery shopping, I jumped up and began helping them unload the car. Before we even finished putting the groceries away, it began: 


"Oh yeah, you can put the avocados in that dish; we're not allowed to eat fruit on this diet, so we won't be putting any in there." 


"This dressing has too many grams of sugar in it, we can't eat it!" 


"Do you and Vuni want these soups? No pasta on this diet, so we need to get rid of them!"


They weren't even home for a full 5 minutes, and my head was ready to explode!


Em, you need to diet too. Maybe you're not fat, but you don't want to slip up, and become fat. Wait, maybe you are fat. Okay, maybe you're not fat, but if they're not eating x, you shouldn't be eating x. But what if you are fat? What if you get fat? What if fruit really does make you fat? What if they get skinnier than you? Are they trying to make you fat by giving you the foods they don't want to eat, so they can be skinnier than you? You need to tone up, you need to work out more, you need to keep it together, so you that DO NOT FAIL.


I am so embarrassed and so ashamed to admit that those thoughts were running through my head; that even now, in some ways, they still are (but I promised that I would be honest on this blog, despite feeling embarrassed/ashamed). Why am I having these thoughts? They are so, so irrational, and I know it. I'm happy that I can at least identify that these thoughts are irrational, but it frustrates the hell out of me that I have them in the first place... and that they affect me so much :(


So while Aren and Krisi began cooking a lunch they were "allowed" to have, I decided to self-soothe by escaping to the laundry room and folding/hanging up the load of Aren's clothes I'd just pulled out of the dryer. (Am I crazy that doing chores soothes me? More on that later...) So I seem like a big hypocrite, right? I am semi-rigid with my food intake/level of daily activity, despite being... thin (see even admitting that I know that I, in reality, am thin is very difficult), but it's not okay for them to do the same? Well, it makes me angry that I see myself, and very eating disordered thoughts, in what they're doing, when they not only know how badly I have struggled with body dysmorphia/disordered eating, but Aren's sister at one time struggled with a severe eating disorder. I could see if they were taking an honest healthy approach (Weight Watchers, or just being conscience and active like my parents), but they aren't approaching it in a healthy way. Eliminating entire food groups, using negativity to "keep each other in line," obsessing... I mean, it's dejavu! It's like watching my irrational eating disordered thoughts played out in front of me! And it's extremely triggering... hence my crazy explosion of irrational thinking.


When lunch was ready, I was faced with a dilemma; do I prove that I am the "disciplined" skinny girl and not eat, or do I prove that I can be rational and eat anyways? Overall, I chose to be rational; fear and a little bit of anger kept me from eating the chili they were having, but I did have a good, decent sized salad dressed up with blue cheese and almonds, aka healthy proteins & fats (not just veggies!). I also had a big glass of pom-blueberry juice... and a small glass of milk.


After lunch, however, I was feeling a little guilty, not to mention grumpy due to pain/discomfort from the ear infection that I've had for too freaking long now... so what did I do to deal with this? I became my mother.


Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a girl who at one time thought the iron was a pointless device ironed her bed sheets. I've contemplated ironing my sheets for some time now; I make our bed every day, and I've just thought it would look prettier if they laid flat, not in a crinkly mess. However, ironing sheets is something my mother does. You know, when your mom is nagging you to do your chores, you're thinking she's crazy because she irons her sheets? Well, now that I'm in my own house, I've become tidy and nit-picky, just like my mom! The myth is true, in my case. It's a good thing I have such an awesome mom, otherwise I'd be more worried about myself than I already am ;)


Ironing and anticipating how pretty our bed would look quieted the irr-thoughts. I finished our laundry. Vuni wanted to stick around for dinner; it wasn't going to be ready for awhile, so he and I decided to go to the store and pick up a few groceries ourselves, while Aren also asked us to pick up a few things she forgot. Despite the doubts stirred up when Aren told me that she and Krisi cannot eat fruit, I went ahead and grabbed my blueberries and bananas for my smoothies. (SCORE!- my love for smoothies just won't let those stupid irr-thoughts derail me! Seriously, I can't imagine not having my smoothie in the morning...).


By the time we got back, the anticipation of dinner was getting to me. Since we still had a bit until it was time to eat, I went downstairs, and used Krisi's kettle bells to do some mild weight training... just to ease my mind. This then turned into some yoga, specifically planking. Ah, the burn in my arms took away from the ear discomfort... Err, yeah, I think I'm calling my doctor tomorrow :( Follow up wasn't suppose to be for another week, but things aren't getting better... and I'm sick of it!


I ended up eating a great dinner; more salad (with blue cheese again!), hearts of palm, baked potato, and grilled bell peppers and onions- YUM. I felt GOOD about it after; and I STILL feel good about it. It was a damn awesome dinner.


I'm anticipating a bumpy road ahead, and even as I sit here, I'm wrestling with uncertain thoughts (though now, I'm worrying about how selfish and self-absorbed I sound, making such a big deal of this... does it ever stop?). However, I'm proud of how I dealt with such immense triggers today. Instead of letting the thoughts consume me, and resorting to starving or purging, I did my best to rationalize... I acknowledge that I was having irrational thoughts, but I distracted myself in healthy(ier) ways. I'd call that success. And hell yeah, our bed looks awesome ;)

P.S. Despite my frustrated complaints, I truly do love my (most likely) future mama and sis-in-laws. If they didn't occasionally make you question your sanity, could you seriously consider them family? I think not ;)

When Everything Goes Wrong, Make a List

This past weekend, Vuni & I went on a darling and much needed mini-vacation; I was all set to come home and blog about it (and the anxiety that came with it...) but a very recent string of events, the cherry on top being my mom telling me that my most recent heart surgery is costing my parents $4000+ out of pocket, after insurance... needless to say, I'm feeling pretty moody and shitty.


I'll save the majority of the mini-vaycay story for later, but I have to tell part of it now to get to the rest of this post. Our mini-vaycay was a road trip, with Vuni's band performing in two different cities. I had a good deal of alone time in the hotel room(s) while band necessities such as sound-checking were being taken care of. I used my down-time to read; reading use to be, and in many ways, still is, a favorite past time of mine. I find sitting and reading novels, like I once use to, more difficult now than it has been in the past; I feel like I don't have the attention span/ability to sit still as long as I use to. 


Anyways, I read The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian by Sherman Alexie this past weekend. OUTSTANDING book. I mean, like, life-changing, perception-refreshing outstanding. Seriously; read it asap. It's a really easy, quick read, but just... ahhh. I can't put into words how awesome it is.


So the main character, Junior, goes through a bunch of shit. He's a 14-year-old Native American trying to make it in the "white world," was born with a bunch of physical disabilities (making him a minority/bully target even in his own tribe), his family is dirt poor, and his Grandma and dad's best friend have just died within weeks of each other (and a few months prior to this, his beloved dog died). People twice his age would give up; commit suicide, commit crime, turn to drugs/alcohol/gambling, ect if faced with these problems. Not Junior. He copes in healthy ways; through his love of learning, through humor and cartooning, and at one point... through making lists. 


"I kept trying to find the little pieces of joy in my life. That's the only way I managed to make it through all of that death and change. I made a list of the people who had given me the most joy in my life..."


Wow, is Junior aware. Junior's story is based off of the author's experiences growing up; so it's that much easier for me to feel connected to Junior. I think, because I'm feeling so low right now, I'll take a leaf out of Junior's book, and make some lists:


The People Who Give Me the Most Joy:
1.) Vuni
2.) Our Kitty Girls
3.) My Mom
4.) My Dad
5.) My Brother
6.) Doggie Sisters (Penny & Pebbles)
7.) My "adopted brother," AJ
8.) Aren, Vuni's mom
9.) Ellie
10.) The Chicken Nuggets (the students in my mom's 2nd grade class)

Our Kitty Girls

Musicians Who Play the Most Joyous Music:
1.) Vuni (5+ years together, and he still melt my heart. Every. Single. Time.)
2.) Victor Wooten
3.) Bela Fleck & the Flecktones
4.) Weird Al
5.) Hanson (what can I say, they've been a part of my life for about 15 years now)

Gorgeous & talented Vuni ;)

My Favorite Foods (yes, even people with eating/anxiety disorders have favorite foods... don't be fooled)
1.) fruit smoothies (I can't start my day without one)
2.) green chili & beans
3.) blueberries
4.) Greek salad (but with black olives, not kalamata or whatever)
5.) my mom's homemade vegetarian chicken noodle soup
6.) apples
7.) strawberries
8.) did I say smoothies?
9.) ramen (jazzed up with veggie sausage, peas/corn/carrots, and vegetable bullion)
10.) sorbet/gelato/frozen yogurt... preferably fruit flavored/topped

YUM. WANT.

My Favorite Books:
1.) The Harry Potter Series
2.) To Kill A Mockingbird
3.) A Corner of the Universe
4.) Catalyst
5.) The Stephanie Plum Series
6.) Planet Earth
7.) Skippyjon Jones (hey, I spend a lot of my time with 2nd graders)
8.) The Little Prince
9.) ...The Twilight Saga :(an extreme guilty pleasure)
10.) The Absolute True Diary of a Part Time Indian

and the last list Junior details is a list of his favorite basketball players; however, since I don't even understand the basic rules of the game, much less follow basketball, I sadly cannot provide a list of my favorite basketball players. Sorry :( Instead, I'll give you a list of some of my favorite artists... however, I'm sure I'm probably leaving some out, but here's what I can think of off of the top of my head:


My Favorite Artists:
1.) Frida Khalo 
2.) Edgar Degas
3.) Brian Froud
4.) Pablo Picasso
5.) Salvador Dali
6.) Banksy 
7.) Vincent Van Gogh
8.) Claude Monet

...and that's all I can think of right now; I'm being kind of lazy. I do think, however, that my list-making is doing it's job. I started this post out in full fury, desperately wanting to take my frustration out by hitting something, and let's face it, the wall would have won, and I would have probably ended up with a broken fist... but now, I feel much calmer. 


I have wonderful people who make me happy. Not only am I blessed enough to have an iPod loaded with joyous tunes, but also, have a live-in musician who plays joyous music. I have a bookcase full of amazing stories that can transport me a thousand miles away, without ever leaving my living room... and I have a computer to look up art by amazing artists, who inspire me to make my own escape. 


Note to self: the next time you feel like the world is truly screwing you, make a list of the things that bring you joy... you'll be surprised at how much joy you get making a list of joyous things ;)

Self-Smoothieing

Ugh :( I've been somewhat dreading this day since the middle of June. Why? Because my absolutely wonderful mother, D, had to return to work. She is a 2nd grade teacher, and although I love volunteering in her classroom, I despise not having her all to my self. (How pathetic does that sound?)


Earlier, as I was doing my light spin at watching Wild China (how I start most days: gentle ride on stationary bike + a nature documentary or similar) I began to panic a little bit... What am I going to do without D?! She's going to be in meetings all day! I can't call her when I get sad or lonely, or need a distraction! I can't beg her to send me pictures of Penny! What am I gonna do?!


I decided to make my smoothie, that's what I'd do. With my years of disordered eating, training myself to eat breaking- rather than downing several cups of sugar free sweetner-ladened coffee every morning and throughout the day- has been nothing short of a miracle for me. Really a big deal :)

Banana-Berry-Chocolate Protein-Greek Yogurt Goodness!!

And for some reason, the mere thought of my smoothie, began to make me feel better. I can be okay with out her today; I may not like it, but I can do it. Maybe I'll even enjoy today; I plan on cleaning (which I questioned Vuni last week "Is it weird that cleaning gives me a natural high? It just leaves me feeling so complete!") and drawing... two things I enjoy doing, and should be able to do them alone without freaking out. 


I actually feel pretty damn embarrassed writing this post... it truly does make me seem like a nervous, dependent, possibly crazy little weirdo. Perhaps I am. But I promised myself I'd be honest in this blog; if I sugar-coat things, what help am I doing anyone? Why lie to myself? Why miss the cathartic chance to just let it all out, with the potential that someone will read this and realize that hey, I feel like that too ? So if you're lonely, anxious, and missing someone right now... it's okay. You'll be all right. I'll be alright. We'll all be good <3 Go make yourself a smoothie, come to terms with your thoughts (if that means writing like I am, go for it!), and then 

I may not be able to help the fact that the anxiety attacks me... but it also doesn't mean that I have to let it consume me today. I realize the thoughts are there, but I'm going to keep calm and carry on... and no better way (in my opinion) to start that process than self-smoothieing. Yum <3