Feeling Inadequate.......

You ever get that feeling where you are so annoyed you could literally claw your own face off? Yeah, I am in one of those moods. But I am perplexed because I have no reason to feel that way, I just do.

So I need to clean....like really bad. I am not sure if my house is really disgusting or if it is just my OCD but then again four cats, two kids, and a husband can really mess up a house quick. After dinner dishes can make my tiny kitchen look as though a food massacre has occurred.  A few misplaced cups can make my living room look like a factory that produces dirty drinking glasses. I don't know, it could be my anxiety. I feel on edge lately....edgy....like waiting for the other shoe to drop and I have no idea why. It bothers me, when I get like this. I mean, I get that OCD does that but I would like to have a discernible reason as to why I feel like I am waiting on something that never truly arises. I am just left feeling like this in a sort of anxiety ridden limbo. It sucks.


I have been feeling burnt out lately. Irritated. Annoyed. Frustrated. Under appreciated. Just all around yucky. I think I am going stir crazy. I think I need to get out and start walking again....I don't know get some air or something which leads me to my current dilemma.


I have a hard time finishing things. I mean, I can start them. I can even do them halfway but finishing them...that's a crap shoot. Usually ending more on the crap and less on the shoot. I have hundreds of examples. High school, beauty school, choir, craft shows, video games, my G.E.D test, learning french, making more videos of me singing, putting together my blog posts as a book, learning to ride the bus, walking more to lose more weight,  blah blah blah, ect, ect, ect. I don't know why I do this. I mean, I do want to or have wanted to desperately do these things and yet even if I get a running head start, I usually end up not finishing any of these tasks. Why? Sure, anxiety played a huge part in the schooling issue. My dyslexia makes me have to actually take time out of my day for tutoring for my G.E.D. I am still undecided on what posts I want to use in my book. I mean, there are reasons but holy crap, people have reasons all the time not to do things and yet they still manage to get them done....I am aware of that fact. You would think as someone with OCD I would be a master of scheduling and timing. Well, my OCD centers around the fear of germs and medical fears which is not conducive nor helpful in any thing currently going on in my life.....great (sarcasm). In fact, the only thing I have managed to do consistently in last year is write my blog posts. For some reason I haven't given up on that. I am thankful that I still write but I have no idea why I can write posts and not do these other things as well. Surely, writing in a blog is not an exclusive activity.

And then comes the dread and slight niggling of fear.....my oldest is going to the do the online school thing. It's a great option but I have this horrid fear that I am going to mess it up some how. I will be the one responsible for logging in his hours and checking e-mails from the teacher and I suck at schedules and repetitive actions that require me to be punctual and routine. I mean, I can't even remember to take my pills half of the time without telling my husband I did first, just in case I have to ask him whether or not I took them because the times get jumbled up in my mind. Damn OCD self doubt. The thought of having to actually keep all of this straight terrifies me. I am going to need a stop watch so I can log correctly because I want to do it right and I can't rely on me remembering what time he did which thing with just a normal clock. Trust me, I will get it all jumbled and most likely wrong. And the even worse fear is that I will have to finish doing this. I can not simply just let it fall to the wayside like other things. I am going to have continue no matter what. Which is a good thing because I have to stop starting things and then never finishing them. That's no way to live your life. I am so unhappy that I never finished doing something that I love, said no one ever.

So, I have to make some changes. Scary but doable. I am going to have to be more responsible and if that means getting a stop watch and an alarm to remind me to do certain things until they become a habit then I am just going to have to do it. I have to get over this not finishing curse that has plagued me my whole life and get with it. I am not going to allow my short comings to affect my kid's schooling. And I need to be happy with my choices, which means actually finishing some of the crap I seem to crap out on, like walking again. And sticking with it. I mean if I can blog for over a year I can certainly walk down the road and log into e-mails for God's sake. I just want to feel the satisfaction of finishing something meaningful and be able to say that I can do something all the way. I have some real fears that I am incapable of finishing things but then again that is probably just this stupid self doubt I carry around with me. It's hard to believe in my finishing things when I have so many examples of things I have not finished and so few examples of things I did. I guess I am just going to have to start dissecting my life and start working on finishing more of them until this fear of me being inadequate goes away. That's my plan anyway. Can't hurt to try, try, and try again...

Neurotic Nelly

Feeling Like A Failure......

So today was the first day back to school for my children. I can't believe that my oldest is now a sixth grader......It's official I am now getting old. I was excited to go to their classes and meet their teachers. My youngest in is first grade and he liked the fact that I was taking pictures of him on his first day. My oldest....not so much. We have reached the point that everything I do in public is embarrassing to him including taking pictures of him and asking him to smile. He wanted me to just drop him off and leave. It's the whole me being the mom so even the way I breathe could be classified as an affront to the coolness factor he is trying to achieve.....lest others think him a mamas boy....which he is. I went through the same thing when I was his age with my mother. I can relate. I try to be as respectful to his ego as possible when we are "in public".

The school called with an automatic message asking for a small core group of parents to help out with cafeteria duties or watching the kids during recess. I got kind of excited as the possibility occurred to me I might be able to volunteer once or twice a week. It seemed like it could be fun. I told my husband and he reminded me in the sweetest kindest way possible that the school would depend on me to show up every time. Then it hit. The feeling of failure and loss. Because I know I can't be depended on that way. It's why I cant work. I could show up a few times maybe even make it a couple of weeks but then the overwhelming sense of dread would arrive. The anxiety would start. I would become paralyzed with fear and my body would shut down. It simply refuses to leave my home anymore. Then I would have to make excuses and apologies to the school which would make me embarrassed and feel awkward anytime I would set foot through the doors.

I know that I am not normal and yet sometimes I forget that there are things I can not do. It smacks me in the face that I am not able to function like other people.  It makes me feel like a failure. I know I am not a failure but the feeling still lingers and it hurts. It's depressing. I function so well inside my home and around my friends that I can froget why I can't work in the first place. But put me in a work or volunteer situation or anytime there is a pressure for me to do something over and over and things are expected of me constantly the stress levels start to rise and I start to avoid it. I can't shake the bad feelings and dread. It takes over my whole week, worrying about that particular day when there is something I have to do. Something that once may have been a joy becomes like physical and mental torture. I end up not being able to continue to do it and the failure feeling comes back in full force. My wonderful husband has watched me do this time and time again. He has watched me offer myself up for something and then crash and burn. He has watched as my legs became rooted to the ground and not move. So he always makes sure I know exactly what I am offering to do and I start to really honestly ask myself if I can actually do whatever it is. The answer is usually no, I really can't. After my last job, I became agoraphobic for three months. That in turn garnered me a healthy dose of depression. My body began to become sick. In the six months I was working I developed bronchitis, shingles, stomach bugs, rashes, and a plethora of other mind boggling and odd sicknesses. It was my body screaming at me to stop because I couldn't handle the stress of it all. And my body was right, I can't.

So I was saddened again that here was another sign that I can not handle or function the way normal people can. In a perfect world I would love to work and be with other people on a daily basis. I am a people person. In a perfect world I could volunteer my time at my children's school and be able to be depended on that I can always show up. But the world isn't perfect is it? And I am not normal am I?

There are many reasons I shouldn't volunteer anyway. I would have to walk one mile six times to and from the school just to be able to be there as well as walking them to school and back. I would probably totally embarrass my oldest by squealing hello and doing that dorky mom wave when I saw him walking in the hallway or God forbid call him by one of his cutesy pet names...I'm sure he'd just love that. My youngest would want to go home with me which would start tears to roll as he realized I would have to go home while he stayed. Not to mention that the volunteering is for three hours and involves helping corralling hundreds of children. What was I thinking? I can barely corral my own two children sometimes. I can just envision  me walking home with school mashed potatoes smeared in my hair and incoherently mumbling.  So, I am going to sit out on the volunteering this year. Maybe I will be able to next year....just as long as I pace myself and remember that there are some things I can not do and that is perfectly okay. I am not a failure even thought there are things I can not accomplish. There are many things I can, and I just have to remember those things whenever I feel down.



Neurotic Nelly

Failure

Failure is a huge fear for everyone. It plagues our thoughts. It fills our dreams. It prevents us from trying to reach our dreams. Most people's fears of failure is about a promotion, a career, or a relationship. For people with mental illness it can be much smaller things that we are afraid to fail at. For us it can be a simple as failing to be able to leave the house. To go to school. To even get a job because at some point our illness is going to appear at work and make it impossible to work. I used to love school. I was an excellent student. I liked most of my teachers and was respectful to all of them. I stunk at Math but I excelled at Reading and Language Arts. I love books. Their contents are precious. The old musty smell of hundreds of uses before me. I would often check the names of who this book belonged to before me and try to imagine what their lives were like and what they did now. I loved this class so much I wished it was the only one that we had. I was as odd child. I used to and still use big words that the other kids didn't understand. I loved book reports and assignments. Reading was a away to escape myself. In them I could be the hero. I could be tall and beautiful. I could be brave and strong. I could be all the things I was not.

 In high school the anxiety started. I had lots of friends so I wasn't sure why getting out of the car or to the bus stop would scare me. I couldn't breathe. The world would close in on me and the floor seemed to move. Many times I was frozen to the seat and the tears would rain down. I was unable to walk in to the building I so loved. In my freshman year I missed half of the classes most of the time. I was smart enough and my test scores were good enough that I was passed. The school was made aware of what was going on. I tried so hard to go. Often times I failed. After passing sophomore year came. It was the second day of school and I had to miss because I was sick. It wasn't anxiety this time. I was fine to go the next day and so I did. I was doing really well and proud of myself. Maybe I had beat this stupid anxiety. I had my English class second period and although I had only met the teacher once I just knew she was going to be great. This, after all, was my element. I couldn't wait. I had to go to her and give her my absence letter. She took one look at me and in a snarl said,"We aren't going to do this missing school all the time thing  again are we?"

That was it. I don't remember anything else that day. I was crushed. I was devastated. Her unkind words made it impossible to go back. I could not face her again. After I was doing so well she had judged me and found me lacking. Worse she humiliated me in front of my peers. My anxiety was back full force. I had to be home schooled after that. The school agreed to work with me at home. I was fine with that but I had missed out on all the friendships and experiences that I could have had. All because she didn't believe that my illness was real. I felt like a failure.

Working was something that I loved. I love to talk to others. I love being around people.  I excelled at doing what was asked of me.After a month the anxiety was back. I became unable to leave the house. I started to get physically ill. I was fired. Again, I  failed.

It is has gotten to the point that anxiety comes when I have to do something as a schedule. I had a lady last year come visit me. It was every Tuesday. After two months I was trying to hide from her so she would think I was not home. I couldn't even face her to tell her why I could not talk to her anymore. I finally broke down and called her. I thanked her for her time and her compassion. Failure.

That's what I wanted to tell her. That I was a failure and I have failed in everything that everyone else seems to be effortless at. That I am broken to the point that I can not function like I should. That I look like I am normal but inside I am a complete basket case.

It took me years to realize that I am not a failure. That I may have failed at things I have tried, but the difference between a failure and me is that I keep trying. I get back up and try something else. I always try. I can't be like everyone else, because I am not like everyone else, and that is ok. I don't have to be.

If you have anxiety please realize, it is not you. It is not your fault. You are not a failure. You just have a different path to take. And if you are reading this and you know someone that has anxiety do not make them feel bad for not being able to do certain things. We are aware of what we can not do. We know what we have failed at and we don't need you to remind us. We deserve better treatment than to be made fun of or chastised.  We don't need you to do that for us, we do that to ourselves enough already.. Chances are you are not perfect either and you should take time to reflect on that before you judge.

                                                       Neurotic Nelly