Due to Venusian rising (thank you Libra) as well as Venus in Pisces, I'm quite heavily afflicted with the fall in love easily gene. Or, should I say I go 'full like' full tilt (that my friends is my Aries moon talking). I applaud this on one level in that I'm not afraid to take risks with matters of the heart, but it does get a bruising from time to time it could avoid.
I am no wallflower in social situations so I am sure it's one of my main attractants in that I'm easy to talk to. That said, it also seems to be one of the many problems I encounter in that the opposite boy party would happily spill his guts in his life story, and then disappear without a trace having not offered one reason as to the non-continuance of what appears to have been a pretty 'funny thing'. And this is several times in the past year (and I'm probably in that state right this minute with another party!)
I'm not on the trail of a diamond ring or to have my eggs fertilised but it does remain one of those boy/girl mysteries. Why did he just not say what was on his mind? If you can give a full life history including the emotional bits what then the issue of taking an honest out? Who is going to die? Not me that's for sure! I guess even John Gray (Mens are from Mars...) can't untangle that. But it's a mystery like aliens/Loch Ness I shall no doubt keep up with.
Fellows, what gives? Matthew Hussey?! Someone?!
So I awoke with this grand idea, I have been saving myself a great deal of angst because I don't drive. Even though I am in my 40's and learnt to drive in my teens, I never swapped out my learners plastic for the full license. The reasons for not doing so are long (and kind of silly) but I've come to realize it's a great thing on many levels notably STRESS.
Us A&D'ers are of course compelled to reduce stress in our life because yes, it leads right into the jaws of anxiety. Quite frankly being a passenger in my mother's car is enough to give anyone anxiety given the commentary. Still, and you must agree; that every morning when you get to work someone is complaining about the amount of traffic, the traffic conditions (thank you oh so responsible Mr Weather!) how someone cut them off, how they couldn't find a park, the list goes on. Simple. Don't drive!
When I was self-employed I would often (to justify my taxi use to the accountant) weigh up the cost of purchasing (or leasing) a vehicle, insuring it, housing it, maintaining and of course the other little perks like fuel and then potential accidents. I calculated that I could take 2-3 taxis a week and still be ahead of the game. A calculation I use often now when people challenge me on my absence from the steering wheel. On a fiscal level, it makes sense. On the flip side, commuting has its costs also. You don't always have an easy route to your destination, your fellow passengers can be gross (don't let me go there) but the benefits are you can listen to music, read a book and or stare out the window (the latter I highly recommend for the creative brains out there) and arrive at your destination pretty unfazed. For the other ardent greenies out there, the environment cost is negligible and I for one am glad my footprint is low on the carbon emissions scale.
Now let's get down to why driving isn't so great for those of us who are particularly prone to stress. No matter how long your commute, you are operating in a mindset of stress because you guessed it driving is dangerous! You need to be on alert constantly on so many levels let alone engaging your motor skills (no pun intended) to operate your vehicle, you are also on the look out for potential hazards, employing your inner compass for known routes or deciphering your GPS' instructions. That's three 'states' in one action! Hell, I could throw in a bit of jargon about the parts of your brain that are in operation but in layman's terms, that's a shit load of brain power going on!
Naturally, some of us cannot avoid not driving. We need to get to a remote workplace, ferry our children to school or take a trip that we can only afford by car. What to do here? I found this fun link (just click on the images below the image of the driver) that could be useful for you.
As for me, Daytona at the arcade is going to have to suffice for now. That, or until the bank balance tips in the favour of the self-driving Tesla which I long for because weirdly enough for a non-driver I do harbour a big love for cars!
Have you got a tip for stress-less commuting? I'd love to hear it :)
I dream a lot mostly when I'm pre-mental, maybe it's the increase in my body heat that sends the brain a little nuts and fizzes my synaptic array (sorry I've been watching Star Trek again).
In my tween-hood I kept diaries of the things (mostly they were about Stars Wars and Duran Duran at that stage) but over the years they have more often than not shown themselves to be prophetic from everything to picnics and boyfriend stuff I needed to know. I had a beloved pet, Angel, die and visit me in a dream where she was surrounded with all kinds of other animals so I knew she had reached the equivalent of animal heaven.
Over the years many of my dream themes have become clear. Water has been a major one and as a youngster it was tidal waves. First on a beach and later on higher ground, then swimming and breathing underwater. Through my more difficult times, it has been more about deep and dark water. My research has revealed that water-related dreams symbolise emotions so it has made perfect sense that I would be unconsciously fielding emotional states in the Land of Nod also.
I also dream of houses a lot (said to represent the self) and often in these, I will come across dark and empty rooms and wonder is that representative of a space in me that isn't quite 'whole'? That said, I do enjoy a bit of detective work on these themes and find my dreams are a great tool for checking messages my innards are sending me. Now and then I suffer from a boogie man nightmare but that's probably just the fertile imagination in play. Thankfully yes, there is still the 'sexy time with celebrities' dreams so it's not all nightmares and self-reflection. Overall, dreams are fun and can be a great guide to checking in with yourself.
What are you dreaming of?
I recently undertook an 11-day angelic 'challenge' with the lovely Lamanda Brown. While I typically started it 3 days late (ever the rebellious student) and didn't complete every task, it did bring me into a deeper connection with myself and my angels. I had a couple of epiphanies along the way (due in part to other spiritual pursuits) but all in all, I came away from these exercises knowing my demons a little better and feeling much closer to the idea a new version of myself is emerging.
Am I alone in thinking that some days you are so certain of your path that it doesn't matter that there is a blackness within that may emerge at any time and blow such certainties to the ether?
However, I took that joyful high onto my local dancefloor to stretch the body and shake my chakras! I was feeling light having also removed someone toxic from my life which seems to be par for the course as you take stock of your life more often with this illness! Fortunately, the individual made the decision to dump me as I really dreaded having that talk with them given their volatile nature. This image (courtesy of the mighty fine blogger, Eric Barker) says it all.
Still on a high, my compadres and I ventured to a local beach. The total sensation of the sun on my skin and the salty waves lapping at my ankles felt like a skin of my former self had been shed and this new version was now fully formed and out in the world. The day morphed into evening whereby I topped it off by cooking for my crew as they regaled me with hilarious tales of their dating exploits.
While in a revelatory mood, there is still a part of me that doesn't think my condition lends itself to vetting potential lovers online. I sense the headline "Humorous Depressive Seeks Sexy Soul Connections" may see the tumbleweeds fly across my inbox and the joy relegated to a nice burst of alliteration. Oh well, my soul and I are in a good place for now though.
How's yours doing?
Do you feel that when all seems right with the world you're stuck with the worry (the old ego gremlin) that disaster of some sort is lurking to throw you off a cliff?
For some, that's a daily fix of anxiety waiting in the wings to spray her foul scent of fear upon us. I have been lucky that the anxiety part of this illness has only manifested as a pre-cursor to a major episode and an attack is generally so surprising that the low frequency means I've had little practice at kicking strategies into gear to cope in that moment.
It's hard to remember to breathe when your innards tell you you're in the path of a giant beast albeit primitively imaginatively, right? Anyone who can count to ten whilst paralyzed in a supermarket aisle, with the added sense of trying not to look like a crazed individual; is in my mind Olympian.
I had such an episode this past Monday. All had been quite rosy of late and I was definitely not expecting the axe to fall. Sadly, after an emotional bout with the bank (who hasn't been there?), I collapsed onto the sofa amidst my fiscal failings and began to feel the onset of panic. I should have known it was all going too good, I berated myself! Then, the calm and practiced person (there is one within, he/she is like a secret muscle one needs strengthening) said 'you will not go there'. Simple as that, I just said no to those cramping thoughts. I called on a great friend who promptly rushed to my side and we laughed the night away. Woe be gone!
Since we can't always phone a friend when cowering in fear in the supermarket or even out on the street, I vote that, just like parking ticket dispensers; we need to install a panic button that either sprays your face in a steam of St John's Wort or alerts those in the vicinity to come to the rescue with a hug and a kind word.
Furthermore, I say park that button right up on the wall next to the obligatory defibrillator we now see everywhere. Am I right?! That said, I'm sure a defib probably feels like the better option when locked into an anxiety trap. What's the worst place you ever had an anxiety attack?
Thanks for stopping by.
I consider myself a pretty smart capable human being (when I'm not pre-mental of course). That said, like many of us I struggle with worthiness which strangely I do not equate with self-esteem (that part is ok depending on whether I'm down the hole or not).
For reasons I'm still working on, I haven't quite mastered the "I'm Worth It" demon which shows up at my place of work frequently. I'm currently earning a buck as a temp (as many will relate full-time work isn't always the best panacea for us afflicted sorts) so I am tripping between offices around the city. I always strive to improve my environment whether it is implementing processes or empowering co-workers to speak up for themselves if not being treated correctly (my biggest workplace bug bear I might add) and feel good about themselves.
I recently did a six week stint in a front line role at a large financial entity keeping an eye on the mechanics of comings and goings, facility issues and helping improve things I thought needed attention. Was this appreciated? No! My worthiness has always been largely tied up in my work and now that I've come to terms with my career prospects descending (due to illness and age) rather than taking flight; its these moments of making a difference (in my eyes at least) that compounds those feelings greatly.
So what to do? Write it down here! Log it like a time sheet of good deeds in the Universe! Put up an imaginary balloon and streamers celebrating the fact that I went out there and did my best. I have acknowledged to myself whether or not I get a spoonful of praise, I'm a worthy human being. Somewhere along the way, I've helped somebody and/or changed something for the better and that's worthwhile. How do you kick that worthiness b#tch to the kerb?
Thank you for stopping by.
I returned home (after 25 years of carousing the globe) to stay with my parents after my third (and one hopes final) breakdown. I was way down deep in my burrow of blackness. Imagine: a 40 plus-year-old woman who had left home at 17 to make her way in the world, travelled/lived in other countries, ran her own and other people's businesses and lived amongst the glitterati of the entertainment business; now moving home to her parents. That perceived high life disappeared in an instant.
After a string of unfortunate employment choices I had ended up being stranded in Vegas and was on the precipice of ending it all (what better stage for a highly dramatic finale, thank you Libra Ascendant*). A month later, I'm back in a small town in New Zealand licking my wounds and willing myself to peek above the sheets of despair and imagined failure.
So where does the gratitude cup come into the picture? I had to be grateful I was still in existence and that due to the immense love and care of an array of wonderful folk; still breathing (albeit shallowly). Gratitude was my first order of business. Despite the unkind things a few people had done, I was fortunate I had a much greater cheering section for me that, if needed; would have gaffer taped me to the earth far from that precipice. So, my 'rehabilitation' began with gratitude.
In my book (in which I began to document this journey), I made a note that each day I would top up my mental gratitude cup with one thing. My cup like the tides, ebbs and flows but it's been a marvellous exercise in tricking myself out of the darkness of my burrow. What fills your cup?
Thanks for stopping by,
* A Libra Ascendant is a dramatic person who loves to be the center of attention www.exemplore.com
I had always wanted to be a writer. I didn't actually realise this grandiose thought until writing became my salvation during the worst bout of my illness. I need not delve into the impetus for this burst of expression (there will be plenty of that later trust me!) but needless to say; the urge to express myself in words is what has led to me putting it 'out there' via this blog.
Currently, I am at the end of what really was the worst of the worst of it. Looking back I know that writing kind of saved me and if this 'depressional confessional' goes some way towards helping someone feel that they aren't alone, then it just deepens my mission. The inspirational John Paul DeJoria; said
"Do something to help someone out", really simple words but they have resonated greatly with me.
The Black Rabbit Hole is my intention to you lovely reader, to help you out. This is my declaration to the digital universe to validate all other A&D's out there and say we shall battle our common foe together.
Asthmatics have inhalers, arthritics have canes; A&D's have The Black Rabbit Hole. We are not disabled we are united. In the interim, I shall descend gracefully off my soapbox, put the word swords away and go brew a coffee. Let us both percolate a little until next time.
Thank you for stopping by.
Everybody should feel safe here sharing their thoughts and feelings on these posts and I encourage everyone to BE THEMSELVES!
NB. If you're an a!%hole you can 'hop off' though!
The authors' ideas and perspective are solely hers except where duly credited to third parties.
This site does not provide prescriptive or medical advice. Readers should seek professional help with depression or anxiety symptoms.