This Morning

Theme from Harry Potter...6:03 am. I swipe the screen, stop the music. Time to get up.

Into the bathroom, the cat follows. She leaps on the counter, purrs at me, bumps me affectionately as nature finishes it's call.

My phone has come into the bathroom with me, I don't even notice anymore when it's in my hand. It's too much a part of me. It's too late now. Social media. Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Time to get into the shower. Why can't I ever remember which way to turn for the water to be hot? My hair is so long. 1-2-3-4-5 pumps of shampoo. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 pumps of conditioner. Loofa, body wash, facial scrub. Seems like I've been in here forever.

Rake back the shower curtain and the cat's still on the counter. She meows at me, watches me towel dry. Hair in a terrycloth turban, it's time to get dressed.

Clothes in a basket at the foot of my bed, in the closet, on the floor. Clean but unfolded, waiting to be worn. Too hot for that, that doesn't fit right, I don't really like that one, I wore something like that yesterday...eventually an outfit is chosen.

Before clothes: deodorant, lotion on the legs, baby powder, lotion on the arms, toothpaste on the teeth. Towels hung, body naked in front of the mirror. Hair dripping. More conditioner sprayed in, comb through.

Dressed now, phone in hand again, down the stairs. Fill the water bottle, pack a lunch, pet the cats. Good morning. Kiss the fella, grab my purse and keys, out the door.

Garage door up, engine turned. What kind of music today? Kind of quiet, contemplative? Pop, hip hop, classic rock? Undecided, so a compilation. Back out the driveway and into the street. Push the button, check to see the door is closing.

Sun is bright orange, hot already. 7:03 am. Down the street to the corner where I turn right towards coffee. Grande latte and good morning. Thank you, have a nice day.

Onto the freeway as coffee smell fills the car. Music swells the speakers, fingers tapping on the wheel. My exit isn't far and today I'm the only one on it.

Until I see her. She walks without hesitation in front of my car, her two fawns following cautiously. I turn the music down, drink in the moment. The doe is so confident, so sure that no harm will come to her. Her babies take their time going over the guardrail and I wait until they do before I continue. There's a car coming up behind me and I see them slow and then stop to watch the family of deer scamper into the brush.

At the stoplight I turn the music back up. I like this song. Sip coffee with a smile as my heart swells with love for nature and all creatures great and small. I feel peaceful.

Past the Italian place and the gas station and the street with the weird name. Past the homeless people in the park and Planned Parenthood. 1-2-3 stoplights that are always green in the morning. Right turn into the lot, park the car. Beep.  Walk to the office door, digging for work key, then in the lock, juggling coffee, lunch bag, purse, patience. I'm in and up the stairs.

Good morning coworker. Plans for the weekend? Happy Friday. And then I'm in my chair. Computer on, light on, coffee on the desk. Purse on the shelf, lunch bag in the kitchen. Clock in, fingers on the keyboard, email.

It begins.

Spinning, Jumping, Running

I've always been jumpy. My dad used to seemingly just appear in the kitchen while I poured milk on my cereal. He was so quiet. I always heard mom-her bracelets. And later, her cough. But dad was the definition of stealth.

When I was managing a retail store, the staff took great delight in hiding behind corners and jumping out at me. They didn't have to. Sometimes they'd get me just by walking into my office.

I just thought I was like this. I didn't know it was a pretty clear sign of an anxiety disorder. That shit all starts from somewhere... probably from my childhood. Dad's gone for the summer, he might not come back because what he does is dangerous. Mommy can't have that or she'll get really sick...

I don't like it. I don't like the rush of terror that floods through me when something or someone  unexpectedly crosses my path. I have literally been startled by my own shadow. I'll see something out of the corner of my eye and feel threatened. The "something" could be a person or a coat rack. It's just in my line of vision when it wasn't a moment ago and that freaks me out.

Being "on edge" is supposed to be alleviated through meditation, sleep, less stressful environments. All of which are incredibly difficult to achieve when you are in fact, feeling anxious. 

The mind spins.

Hard Knock Life

I just knew I wanted to write. I wasn't sure when I sat down this morning with my laptop and cup of coffee what I was going to say but here I am.

Sometimes it starts with just a sentence. Today was like that but the sentence was,"I just knew I wanted to write." Kinda leaves us at a standstill doesn't it?

I have a friend (Hi-I know you're reading this) that is kind enough to compliment me on my blog fairly regularly. She is the kind of person that will cancel her own plans to help a child. She's amazing. And I value her.

The other day, I was feeling kind of shitty. I was trying to understand a relationship better and needed to talk about it. I went to my friend, slumped into a chair across from her and just started talking.

She listened and related and encouraged me. She told me it wasn't me, that she understood. She calmed me down through a raging bout of paranoia. I hate that feeling and knowing I had someone to go to seriously helped.

I've been learning about myself a little more these days. I've started seeing a counselor and she's pretty neat. She has a cat in her office and she wears leggings underneath floral patterned shorts. She has a wicked eyebrow arch and a great way of relating things to me in a metaphorical way. I like her, I think she's helping.

But counseling is hard. It's kind of like taking a knife back over a healed wound. Makes me think about things that I'd successfully buried deep down years ago and face them head on. It challenges me. It affects me. And it brings up paranoid feelings and self doubt. I try to focus on the fact that the end result will be in my favor but...yeah, it's hard.

I have a sick relative. She's quite ill, even more than she was, and I just found out about it two days ago. She asked me to pray for her which felt a bit strange as I don't believe that's necessarily a successful way to approach things. I do however, respect that she does, so I'll do it. I'll do whatever I can.

In addition to her diagnosis, she shared that her daughter has become estranged. Her daughter reminds me a bit of me when I was her age. She's in school, angry no doubt about her mother's illness and is lashing out. I recognize that. I was pissed my mom was sick all the time. I hated that there were times no one could take care of her but me. It affected me. It looks like it's doing the same to her daughter. I reached out to her and we talked a bit, but I can't fix things for them and that's hard too.

I fear my relative will die and her daughter will be left with regrets. Until you lose someone, I don't know if you ever truly understand that you can't ever go back.

Maybe it's because I understand this that people call me kind. I don't have any regrets. Any that I may have had, have been solved to the best of my ability. It's a bit morbid, but if I was gone tomorrow, I'd go knowing that people knew I loved and cared for them. And it's because I make it a point to tell them.

It feels good to be complimented. It feels good to have acknowledgement of effort and success. It feels good when someone wishes me a good day or says good morning and makes an effort to include me in conversation.

I don't want to feel bad about needing these things, but I do a little. I'm working on that too.

I'm not sure exactly how to be ok when I don't receive positive feedback or assurance, but I'm trying. One thing that helps is for me to be kind to others. For me to give positive feedback, assurance and compliments. Treat others the way you wish to be treated, right? Funny. I think that saying originated from the bible.

Anyway, I don't know why it's  hard for some but I suppose there's not too much I can do about that. I can learn how to interact and exist around those kinds of folks though. I can learn to not let it turn into paranoia, because my friend is right. It's not me.

I can't change situations, people...but I can change the way I feel about them. The way I react. That too, can be hard but it's not impossible.

The hope shows up in the little things.

Like yesterday morning. I stopped for a coffee before work and the barista and I started talking. Idle chit chat led to sharing a laugh and it ended up including the guy behind me in line. We joked about how things are often quite funny before 7 o'clock in the morning and then all went on about our day.

It's in the random passerby that returned my 'good morning' with a smile.

It's in that first sip of coffee, a picture of the moon in the morning sky, a text from your fella. It's having a friend to talk to when you're feeling anxiety building. It's knowing you have that friend to talk to.

I see life as a nice even line-work is good, relationships are good, health is good, etc. Normal, every day circumstances along the way might cause little bumps in the line for most people-reprimand from boss, fight with your person, a summer cold, etc.  For me, those same circumstances might drop my lifeline into a drastic angle.

I might start spinning, my mind flooding. When that even keel becomes jagged, I feel out of control a bit and so very frustrated that I can't change it.  Without support, without making kind gestures to others, without reminders that it's not me....it's just a part of my world...I'd be broken.

So I didn't know what I wanted to write about, just that I wanted to write but this is where I've ended up. Exploring who I am, who I'm becoming while I look back at who I was. It's hard, yeah. But, that's life.