Back in the Pool

I feel like I'm on the verge of that drowning feeling again. I recently read a post from a blogger who also struggles with depression about how she has been teetering, wondering if she's fallen back into depression. Her descriptions of the endless slew of negative thoughts and feelings both overcome you and leave you wondering if you're actually feeling depressed or stressed or what.

I'm not sure what it is, but the stress of crazy days at work, managing a home that's not mine, saving money for a wedding, planning and doing for the wedding, planning and nightmare-ing about the parents and the wedding, and this nagging cold/bronchitis I've had for 2 weeks now (wah), I feel overwhelmed. Or I'm on the brink of overwhelmed. Sometimes I have a premonition of myself, balled up and crying, trying to escape and cleanse all the negativity, but it hasn't quite exploded yet. Is it about to? I'm not sure, but it sure feels looming.

As if a stereo was blasting white noise and I just couldn't find the "off" switch, feelings of nervousness and anxiety, worries that things won't get done, and fears that I won't be worthy or successful crowd out any joy left in me. Sleep no longer brings rest, and I feel like I'm waiting... waiting to let a breath out... waiting to open my eyes to some relief.

Everything inspires more anxiety. The absence of a smile. The addition of a project. The ringing of my cell phone. The notice of a new email. Why do I think it's all out to get me?

Happy Tuesday.

Waiting...Always Waiting

As I face some of the most promising and positive changes of my lifetime, I guess I'm worried that it won't live up to the hype. I'm waiting and dreading at the same time, as if I'll find out that, in the end, these things won't bring me peace either.


I've always admired the "cool girl." The one who refuses , even forgets, to call her boyfriend. The girl who doesn't care too much about her job yet excels in it. But instead of that girl, I was always the girl who cared and thought way too much.


This has been a tough year on that end. I've cared too much when my boyfriend was angry with me or just plain having a bad day. I've cared too much when I screwed up at work. I've cared too much when the P's said something I didn't like. Last night, I lay in bed and felt myself begin to worry. Not about anything new or anything worth losing sleep over, but nevertheless, I did. At one point, I had to just say to myself, "What's the point, anyway?"


There is none. The increased heart rate, the loss of sleep, the welling of emotions, and the constant (no, really, CONSTANT) level of fear is really pointless. If there's no crisis to worry about, I'll search my life for things to pick apart. Yes, it is a beautiful day, but I feel fat. Yes, it is exciting that I'm getting married, but some things may not go my way. Yes, it is a relief that I'll have some distance from the P's now, but I don't know the exact timeline.


The Boy is recently studying for his master's, and he said that there are several times a day when a man's brain is literally "at rest," but it doesn't appear women experience the same. This attests to the notion that women are better multitaskers, but it also points to the fact that women are worriers. I'm tasking myself with learning and practicing brain rest. To enjoy the good without a second thought. To be thankful for the good without a "but."