Waiting Sucks

Waiting sucks.

Like, really sucks.

And there’s so much to waiting too. It’s not just a countdown of days, hours, minutes, etc. it’s all the anticipation that goes with it.

It’s the building up of what could be, good or bad. This thing could be great. But you build it up to be the best experience where you meet the love of your life, and you’ll look back on this day fondly for the rest of your life. Or, it could go horribly wrong. You could be late, and everything goes wrong. If it’s a doctor’s appointment they could find something wrong, horribly wrong.

You never know what to expect, even when you think you do. Even if you’ve been through this a thousand times.

On the first day of school, you know exactly how it’s going to play out. You either walk, get dropped off, or take the bus to school, and you find out what classroom you go to. You go there, probably end up doing some stupid get-to-know-everyone exercises, and get to know your teachers where you know pretty quickly how much you’re going to like them. If it’s a half day, you go home, if it’s not you have lunch and that awkward moment of where do you sit? And then more of the same.

But what’s going to happen in the in-between? Are you going to make an ass of yourself when you introduce yourself? What if someone zones in on you and decides they’re going to make your life a living hell for no other reason than because they don’t like your face? I’ve had that happen to me before. Gotta love middle school.

Waiting also really sucks because my brain will go into this mode, and others have expressed this same thing, known as waiting time. It’s like there’s a period around a day or appointment where you get so close to it you can’t do anything or think of anything else because you’re waiting on it. And you don’t want to be late for it. This could be, you have an appointment at 4 and you need to leave at 3 to be able to get there in time. So after 12, your brain tells you it’s waiting time. So as much as you need to do laundry, clean the bathroom, or do any number of hobbies, your brain says no. No time. Gotta go in like 3 hours.

So now I’m just stuck sitting here, not really interested in any of the things I’m doing to pass the time and desperately craving more dopamine but my brain is yelling at me any time I try to do anything else.

And it’s not like I only have hours to wait. At the time of writing this, it’s Thursday. My appointment is on Saturday. My brain is still in waiting mode. And it has been since like Tuesday I think.

I know it’s a pretty big thing, but having to force myself to write this and do laundry is not easy. Do you know for how many days I’ve been staring at this pile of crap on my desk that needs to be put away that I really want to get rid of but still have that paralysis? Like 9!

And what is so important that I’m in a days-long waiting mode? I’m going for my first tattoo on Saturday. I’m super excited and anxious. I know I’m hyping it up in my mind. I don’t know how much it’s going to hurt, but I know it’s going to be uncomfortable.

I got to see the first round of concept art last week and I guess the beginning of this week made it all really seem real. I’ve wanted this since I was 10 years old, and it’s finally happening. This doesn’t help with the issue of waiting mode because I’ve been in waiting mode for this for the past 16 years.

So I’m excited, and nervous, and anxious, and happy. And I need some way to get all this nervous energy out, but when I try my brain starts screaming at me that I don’t have the time. I don’t know if this is something everyone deals with, or if it’s just an ADHD thing.

To summarize, waiting sucks.

You Deserve to Eat

It’s difficult when you have medical conditions and mental ones.

Carbohydrates produce happy chemicals like dopamine. That’s why things like mac and cheese, candy, and mashed potatoes are considered comfort foods. They’re filled with carbs and carbs make the brain happy. This is especially true when you have ADHD like I do, and your brain doesn’t produce the happy chemicals by itself.

But I also have PCOS, Polycystic ovarian syndrome for those of you who are curious, and my doctors have drilled into me that carbs are bad for my condition and protein is best. Carbs are bad, and protein is good. That’s what I was always told.

Sometimes I don’t have the desire or energy to make a proper meal and worry about nutritional facts. But a bowl of cereal is both easy and appealing.

Then I get stuck in the mindset that I shouldn’t eat this. It’s all carbs and I should be eating protein or at least a piece of fruit or something. And if I’m not careful I will get stuck in that mindset and just not eat. Not just for the rest of the day but for several days sometimes.

I have to stop and tell myself that fed is best. It doesn’t matter if it’s a steak or cereal. You need to eat. You deserve to eat. You love yourself and need to nourish your beautiful body.

Eat. You are loved and deserve to be taken care of.

Maybe when you feel better you can worry about nutritional facts and what you ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’ eat. Right now you’re not doing well. You’re just trying to survive. Surviving means putting food in your body so you don’t start feeling worse.

If for no other reason than you are worthy of love and appreciation and being taken care of.

Nourish yourself.

I Have Monsters In My Mind

Sometimes I feel like things are going well and then I get blindsided by an intrusive thought that leaves me reeling for days.

Sometimes I’m paralyzed by the idea that I’ll never amount to anything and that I’m wasting my time trying like this. I spiral wondering about all the opportunities that I squandered or misused.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m happy with the person I became, or if I’m just not happy with the person I was. I know I grew a lot as a person, especially over the past five or so years. But it seems like I can’t have a positive revelation without the monsters that live in my mind going ballistic as they spew hate at me.

I want to be happy with the person that I am and the person I will become. But I don’t want to discount the person I was before either. I had to be her to become who I am now and who I will continue to be.

Sometimes it’s easier. Sometimes the monsters are asleep or preoccupied with other things so I’m able to live an okay life and do the things I want to without them knawing at my self-worth and pride. Other times, the only reason I’m able to force myself out of bed through their hate, power, and oppression is my pets relying on me.

I have cages to clean and dogs to feed and exercise. They don’t know about the monsters, they just love me and bring me joy. I don’t think they know fully how much they fight them back every day for me.

Sometimes I open up to others about the monsters too. Or at least I try to. Sometimes they don’t get it, or at least don’t get the full scope of it. They think they’re little gremlins that thrash around and are more of a nuisance to me than anything. Most people don’t understand that they are the monsters under the bed. So impossibly large there is no way they can fit there but by the power of dark magic, they can. They are the shadow hand that reaches in the dark when you know there is something there but know there is no way anyone could be there. They are the creature outside your window staring at you waiting for their opportunity to creep inside and consume you. They are the feeling you are being watched or followed but every time you turn around there is nothing there. They are the ever-creeping despair that settles in your bones at every bad thing that you hear happen in the world.

My monsters are deceiving too. Sometimes they come to me wearing the masks of sadness. Or uncertainty. Sometimes, when they feel particularly malicious, they come to me with pretty faces and soft hands and whisper sweet things to me, like how I’m lovely and sweet, smart and kind. And just as I’m beginning to believe them I’m dragged down into the depths of despair where I’m towered over by all of them and made to feel even smaller than I ever had.

It’s not easy to make me feel small. I stand at 5’10”, or 175 cm. I am not a small woman, and I’ve learned to lean into my height and feel good in it. Feeling small isn’t something I’m used to or even let happen without a fight.

Sometimes I wonder if I can ever defeat the monsters or if they’ll always be there. Stronger and bigger than me, always undefeated.

Maybe one day I will be able to take them on, either by myself or with lots of help. I don’t know. Maybe instead of fighting them, I think more often, I can invite them in and have a cup of tea with them. Ask them why they haunt me and never let me rest. See if there is any peace we can come to. I’ve come to realize recently that just because something is uncomfortable doesn’t make it bad.

And while my monsters certainly make me uncomfortable, I also feel like they’ve been around for so long I can’t imagine my life without them. I don’t think they need to leave, not yet anyway. I may still have things to learn from them. But I hope that we can maybe work together.

I might be tired of fighting my monsters, but I’m not tired of fighting.