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Showing posts from May, 2015

The silent pain

On the days that you least expect it, that's when the silent yet numbing pain attacks. It starts with crying. The uncontrolled tears simply falling. The harder you try to stop them, the faster they come. You see the reflection of this numbing pain in your children. They act out, they seek you, they cry and whine. They are unsettled by your discomfort. This makes the pain worse. Now you are stuck in a cycle, forever spinning the wrong way.You grab something to hold on to, anything that will ground you. Desperate to hold yourself amidst reality so the irrational thinking will cease, or at the very least go silent. You try and try to reorient yourself. The numbness spreads, physically overtaking your entire body until it feels like a tangible entity. A force you are no longer capable of fighting or fending off. More tears.
How did this happen?
Wasn't today a good day?
You had an amazing solo run yesterday, you accomplished so many tasks, everyone is 90% healthy again.
You fel…

My first running post

And here we are, four posts in, finally talking about running.  I suppose it would have been better to begin with a positive running experience, but I prefer to keep it real.  I never said running was a cure, or even always positive. Shit, sometimes it is really negative.
If Cheryl Strayed hiked the PCT to escape her problems, I run out my door to escape mine. But you can't escape them, eventually they will land even harder right on your damn stubborn head.
And then what?

And then you really face them.

Because they are YOUR problems.

We can wake up in a fine mood and then we spill milk everywhere. Of course it's chocolate milk and of course it goes everywhere. No big deal, right?

Wrong. BFD.

And that's when I lost it. I lost it over spilled milk, milk that  I  spilled. It was downhill from there. My hair trigger activated, I was an angry disaster ready to blow. Crawling the walls to get out, begging to hit the pavement. Certain that I could pound the fury out of me. F…

Bad days happen

Today was a hard day. As a parent, as a spouse, as an adult. It sucked. I was pooped on, literally gushing onto my hands in my lap and onto the couch. I've been tending a sick baby for days now. Oh and now the toddler is feverish. Today was hard.What's worse is that it started out hard because it was a bad day for me. I woke up a wreck. My mental well being warped. It was a rough morning that turned into a difficult day spotted with moments of pure awesomeness. How I wish I could focus on those moments and not relive all of the bad ones over and over and over.Just don't dwell on them and you won't feel so bad.
We all have those days, it's ok.
If you would only stop being so negative you would feel better.Sound familiar?Well I say to hell with that.
It's ok to not be ok. More importantly it is ok to have a bad day. They don't know, they have no clue. How could they? You want mindreaders? Go find a circus. This is reality. Unless they have lived it, felt it,…

Unless...

If you came back for some autobiographical purging be forewarned, I am operating under the assumption that we are already well acquainted. At this point you already know my deep dark secret. So let's leave the past in the past. Therapy often begins with a recounting of all the shit we have been through, and I always find this part silly. I know where my demons come from, I determined that about 5 therapists ago. It's not relevant. What I want to know is how to kick their asses out of my head, or at least how to slap a muzzle on them. Granted, the past will slip in from time to time. Please don't expect it or ask for it. It is mine to share or not.So since we are so in the know about each other it should come as no surprise when I tell you that I am a TED talk addict. And that having my own TED talk may be a daydream of mine. Similar to the beauty queen that practices her crown acceptance speech, I daydream about the badass TED talk I will give. No, I do not know my topic y…

What makes me RAD

I guess the first step is to acknowledge the problem. A little bit like an addiction, ignoring the glaring beast will get you maimed or killed. Ok, so now you have accepted that it is really and truly there. Now what? After decades of ignoring and confronting I can only say that true acceptance only comes to those that are ready. No amount of growing up or education will facilitate the arrival of this moment. You simply must be ready.

Well fuck, I guess it's time to be ready.

I have depression. I am not depressed, it does not define me. I have depression like I have blue eyes and freckles. It is simply one small, albeit often ridiculously annoying, component of who I am. I am fairly certain I have had depression a lot longer than I would like to admit, but it's true regardless. I've fought this beast head to head for some time, and sometimes I pretend it's not really there. I have tried to define its existence, usually by naming a cause or rationale for its presence. But…