From the Psychoneurotic Institute for the Very, VERY Nervous

For some reason I'm having a meltdown today, and my brain won't listen to reason.

In the moment I even worry about being worried, but at the same time am not worried about the anxiety long term.

Here are the things I'm worrying about:
Being worried.
Not getting my room clean before I go to MI for my grandma's birthday.
Accidentally forgetting all sorts of things--to make my bed
Not completing tasks before I go.
Being late, even though the flight isn't for another 5 hours.
Having over-felted my new mittens, hat, and neckwarmer.
Whether I'm going to have troubles checking luggage.
Whether I'll bother checking luggage.
Whether if I take anti-anxiety medicine I'll fall asleep and miss the plane.
That I won't be able to eat because of the timing of the flight.
ARGH!!!!

Even doing the things I'm afraid I won't get done isn't helping.

It's insane and very out of the ordinary. I suppose this is what meds are for, though, right?

Even so, I think I'll meditate first. But what if it doesn't work and I fall asleep and miss my plane?

(I'm halfway making fun of myself with this post, but the feelings are indeed all real. Ugh)

Sleighbells ring and all that.

I've been feeling a little pathetic recently, to tell you the truth. I had some meds changed, which helped curtail a slide downwards that I was feeling, but they've also left me with some weird side effects. Basically, in the mornings I've been feeling shaky and sometimes vomitous. Actually, I think for the first time ever, coffee is truly exacerbating this yuck feeling. I tried stopping the wakefulness-encouraging medicine, but that just left me so sleepy I've taken two 3-hour naps in the last two days. Followed by a full-night's sleep. Ugh!

This morning it hit me hard that I was going to be alone on Christmas. I called up a friend, but she wasn't able to invite me along to her goings on. I have to admit that I then cried in public. I do have a couple of places I can go, but for some reason they don't feel *right*. I want FAMILY, darnit. Hi Mom. I love you. I'm still glad I'm not getting on a plane, but I sure wish teleportation were a viable travel option. Sigh.

The good thing is that I've managed to take the last couple days' slump and transform it some. I left the house this morning, and when I came back I put in a couple of loads of laundry, ran the dishwasher, and gathered cookie recipes. I've made some thumbprint cookies to showcase my plum jam, and I'll begin on my traditional toffee here in a bit. Tonight I have a party to go to, which I'm looking forward to, and tomorrow I'll be doing the Chapel Hill Christmas Bird Count. I did the Durham one last weekend.

I did get a couple of cards in the mail today, which also helped. One was from my wonderful Grandma, and I'd like to share it with you.

Dear Stew,

I'm sorry you couldn't make it up here for Christmas, but when you work that's not always possible. We'll miss our Stew but will look forward to next summer maybe.* The weather up here is just so cold and snowy right now. I hate to go out and shovel my walk off, but I'll have to because the poor little birdies are all out of seed. So I'll have to go fill the feeder. My two pair of cardinals and the little snow birds (juncos) and sparrows and chickadees and blue jays are waiting for me to feed them. The squirrels and a little rabbit are out there, too. The boys were over last week with their father, and they brought hamburgs. I can't say no to that! I went to school doings with Annie and the boys last Wednesday. Your mom and Pete were here Mon. and brought me wine, two kinds of soup, fresh strawberries, and choc. cheesecake. I guess I won't starve! We will miss you!

Love, hugs, and kisses from
Grandma


*What Grandma doesn't know is that I'm flying up to Michigan for a long weekend at the end of January. She's turning 90, and I'll be there, dammit!

From excellent to yicky in less than a week!

I haven't talked about the election returns yet, have I? Suffice to say that overall I'm extremely pleased.

Some specifics:
1) No more Liddy Dole. My mom and my friend Michele both called me* when that race was called. Not only did I (figuratively) wish to spit on the woman who took over the seat of another loathesome guy, but I was also very proud to vote for Kay Hagan. She has some sound ideas about sustainable ag and local foods, and I'll always love her for her support of raw milk. Have you tasted that goodness yet? It's a gorgeous sensation.
2) Obama. I doubt I have to say much about this to any of you, but I'm even more impressed that he's planning to recind many of the immoral policies Bush implemented. I volunteered on election day in a county that eventually went for McCain. I didn't do very much at all, but I was glad I took the day off.
3) Anti-choice initiatives failed. Thank goodness.
4) Can you say NC is blue? Yes! Me too!
5) Bad news: Proposition 8 in California passed, as did a number of other anti-gay initiatives. Gotta love people taking away civil rights, ya know?

I spent the night at my friend Ian's place, after going to the NC Dems victory celebration downtown. The energy there (as well as some champagne) gave me a fantastic buzz, and there were celebrations in the streets. So wonderful. Walking downtown the next morning I was so grateful to see people still beaming and making small talk in the street with strangers about how happy they were.

The next day I met with the group of teens I work with, and they were excited as well. They did share some unfortunate experiences documenting the racial tension that still exists even now. I'd expected as much, sadly, so I had prepared a "teachable moment" plan and showed them The Children's March. I was so proud to hear them talk about ways they have already and could continue to stand up to bigotry as it happens today.

So yeah, election week rocked.

But.

There always has to be a but, doesn't there?

Yesterday started out well. I was super productive and did dishes, cooked, and gardened. I'm landscaping most of the front yard, and I realized at Maria's birthday party the night before that I really had to get the irises in that Jamie and the s.o. gave me back over labor day weekend.

While I was doing this, though, I noticed an oddity on the street. Someone had pulled up in front of the house next door for a bit, and then turned around and parked again, this time directly across the street from me. I was a bit oblivious at first, though I did wonder briefly what this person was doing. Were they lost?

Nah. It was a young guy who decided to jerk off to my yardwork. Once I figured that out, I walked out in the street towards him a bit, but really more towards the back of the car. To get the plate number, see? And I did. I got the entire plate number, even before he peeled out. The police were very nice, and I felt strong, proud, and confident. I was happily surprised that my reaction was so matter-of-fact and oriented towards justice. I didn't show him any response beyond first being puzzled and then calmly (not even forced calm...I was zenned out) observing and memorizing as much info about the situation as I could. I emailed two neighborhood listservs with the details as well, and many residents cheered me.

Unfortunately, that pride and calm dissipated as the night wore on, taking me to a place of fear and worry. What if he retaliated? What if he broke in or vandalized my car? My god, he knows where I live, after all. What if Bubba's barking (Loud! Mean-sounding!) compelled this asswipe (and the friends I imagined would accompany him) to shoot Bubba?

I read By the Shores of Silver Lake last night, and didn't contain my tears when Jack died in his sleep.

I'm going to the police department in the morning to check on their progress. I've contacted local sexual violence crisis centers for advice and support. I can't imagine the horror that a more serious act of sexual violence would be like. I'm glad I haven't had to. This was gross enough.

Lotta tags for this post, hm?

*Michele actually texted me, and I then called her.

NOT YET

I have an early gig at a school today, so I have to get up earlier than normal. Some part of my brain decided that meant that 4 a.m. was time to get up.

Dear Body,
This IS NOT OK. Get back to sleep, NOW.
Love,
Stew

Dear Stew,
OK, ok, but you know I thought I smelled coffee, and I'm hungry! And what if I don't get up in time? Better early than oversleeping, you know.
Love,
Your Body

Dear Body,
There is no reason to be so concerned about oversleeping. It's not an airplane, it's an early class at a school. Time's a wasting--you have about an hour and ten minutes left of sleep.
Love,
Stew.

Dear Stew,
Put away the damned computer so I can sleep!
Love,
Body

(Goodnight)

That's the way....

SO.

I think I mentioned earlier today that I'm a weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee bit stressed out. Well, it's getting worse. I know I'll get the things done that I need to do, but I've been left feeling absolutely wrung out. I've been on the edge of tears all morning, and a couple of times have even tipped over that edge.

No weeping or anything. Just a quivery voice, a need to look down, lump in my throat, and then a few tears have escaped onto my salmon-colored shirt. I put out a few feelers to friends just to vent a bit, and set my chat status to "woe-is-me."

---><--- This close to tears That's what my chat status says. A friend of mine that I don't talk to often, a friend who lives just far away enough to make visiting enough of a pain that it doesn't happen, a friend of mine whom I've not seen in person in over a year----this friend saw the passive "be nice to me" cry for help. Sweetheart, he is. Gave me a bit of "Tut Tut, turn that frown upside down!" attention, and then we commiserated a bit. All of a sudden all my stress and all my "Waaaaaaaaaaaah!" emotions turned around and focused on this friend. Y'all, you could hear my internal soundtrack change from The Smiths to KC and the Sunshine Band.

Poor lad didn't know what had hit him, but he rolled with it. "Stew, it really HAS been a long time since we've seen each other. I miss you! And we're both SO STRESSED!! We should really do something STRESS REDUCING!" (There's history there. It's not an out-of-the-blue offer/suggestion.)

Gotta love subtlety. And hormones/weakness.

The one seriously interesting bit here is that this is the first time in AGES that I've interacted with a man and considered him as a *man* rather than just another person. I wonder if the stress put a chink is some armor I wasn't even aware I had.

Decapitated Chicken

That's me. The day after tomorrow I leave at the asscrack of dawn to head up to the Great Lakes State for some R&R, good birding, and familial bonding.

Somehow, though, every single type of deadline possible is also this week, both at work and in my personal life. I have so many things to do that it's been keeping me awake at night, with all the to-do's running through my head over and over. What if I don't remember to do X before I leave? What if I can't get in touch with Y person? What're these other unexpected time-consuming work tasks that have a deadline while I'm gone? Must do! Must pay rent! Must document all car problems! Must water neighbor's garden by hand with her cistern water and free any Brown Thrashers that managed to break through the netting to get to the sweet sweet blackberries and then can't find their way out! Must make homemade fruitsnacks with a handful of blackberries and two dozen underripe peaches! Must do sinkload of dishes! Must deal with housemate pas de deux! Must clean out car! Must complete and hand over certain things best not to mention here but that take way too much time and are inordinately important and that are due before I go! And that I just found out about yesterday! Must pack ahead of time because I'm going straight from work Thursday to Chapel Hill to take my car in and then spend the night at Emily's so she can get me to the airport at said buttcrack of dawn! Must prepare my bathroom for new roommate to use before old roommate leaves! Must harvest and figure out how to take produce on the plane! Must get medicine refills, because I might run out, but who knows if I can because of the damned health insurance limitations?????????

Argh!!!!

Small world, man.

Hilarious.

Today when I went to the doctor, I remembered that I'd actually be seeing a PA rather than my regular guy. That, understandingly, gave me a bit of anxiety, considering where my health is at the moment. I also knew though that my doctor is closely supervising her and would be actually stopping in during the appointment.

My main concerns: a) lack of background knowledge. This woman wouldn't know me, wouldn't know my current situation, and thusly wouldn't have the same insight into what works for me. And then b) I didn't know her. Compatibility, confidence and trust are practically as important in provider/patient relationships as with romantic relationships, in my book. I was facing uncertainty during a time that can only be described as crisis.

Never doubt that the universe will provide, people. The woman I was scheduled to see, whose name didn't even ring a bell to me, is a PA that I used to see when she was working in the neurology clinic at Big Public Teaching Hospital. She knew me. I knew her. I trust her. I adore her. She's fab. She knew who I'd be before I even showed up. ("Could it be the same Stewie McStewerson I used to treat for epilepsy?" she told me she had asked herself) As soon as I saw her the chips fell into place.

Sum total: We're upping my meds, and I'm going to be better at taking others that I'm prescribed for "as needed" that I tend to avoid. Any medicine that is a controlled substance kind of makes me wary. (No, I won't be taking Gamma Hydroxybutyric Acid or peyote or anything--just some run of the mill and mild things, and short term at that.)

SO! ChaCHING!

"New" provider is not so new.
Meds are going to be good.
Optimism reigns in the face of challenges.
It's also pretty clearly a physiological issue rather than situational or psychological.

I'm good. I'll be better. But we knew that already, no?

Procrastination Paralysis

Um, I'm having a hard time breaking down a big task into little ones. I have this grant proposal I've been working on, and so far what that has meant is researching different statistics. The first section is a needs assessment, I guess to prove that there's a need.

I just want to say "DUH! The rate of (bad health outcome) in X population is FOUR TIMES what it is in the overall population in this county!" and leave it at that. I'm thinking that isn't enough though.

I don't know. I'm just sick of it. I keep getting hung up on stats and citations. I don't know what I need to include, and I don't know how to weave the narrative. I'm overwhelmed and freaking out. Sigh.

Bleh

I'm actively not looking forward to tomorrow, but at least I'll be out of the house. And it has to be better than my weekend has been.

Oh, and my roommate's birthday is on Tuesday. Any suggestions on what I should do? I feel bad that I've been being so solitary and messy of late.

Break on through

Yesterday was the suck. Friday (other than the evening, which was fun fun fun) was also the suck. Today is gearing up to be the suxxors even worse.

Anxiety about to-do items has me so worked up that even when I work on them I get overwhelmed. Normally when you tackle a project you feel better. For some reason that's not working for me this time. Eesh.

So instead, I'm planning a day trip to somewhere. I don't know where, and I don't know what I'll do, but I think it will do me good to get out of the house. I expect to leave by noon (it's 10 a.m. now) and be gone until dinner time or so.

I'm off to the shower and then to figure out what kind of mini-excursion I can take. If anyone has any ideas, let me know!

Bribery

Over the last few weeks (months?) I've been really lax about keeping up with housework. The most egregious example of this is the 2-foot-high mound of clean clothes I sleep with each night. Somehow it's easier to motivate to finally load all the dishes or to clean the tub, toilet and sink than it is to tackle the clothes.

It's been making me feel really bad. I tell myself I'm going to do it, and then I don't. And then I get really angry with myself, and there's a lot of internal grumbling and self-directed pissy-ness. Rinse. Repeat.

Today will be different (Jeeze. I'm already feeling pangs of anxiety about this!) Today I will encourage, cajole and peptalk myself until I've put away the clothes. There are plenty of other things to be freaking out about, too, but today will be the clothes. They're wrinkly but clean. I will hang them up.

And when I'm done, I'll go to Big Lots and buy myself some mascara, if they have it.

UPDATE: I lasted 15 minutes. The clothes are now 1/2 organized on the bed by where they will eventually go. I stopped because I could no longer tolerate the ever-amping up freakout it was causing. WTF?

There's a first time for everything.

I'm sure it's bad form to say this, but I'm kind of glad that I'm working with visually impaired teens this afternoon; they won't see how badly I've drooled all over myself.

My follow-up dental appointment today, instead of being the tooth-saving, happy, pain-relieving godsend I had hoped for, has turned out to be the beginning of HELL.

I've never cried at the dentist's before today. I've never had the anesthetic completely numb me but still let through the pain. I had to leave without them even doing any work on me. The filling I was there to get fixed is apparently not the main cause of the pain. Just a stream of air on the next-door-neightooth was enough to elicit a full-body jerk away. A second shot farther back in the mouth made no difference. I called the endodonist's office from my dentist's chair. I've an appointment for evaluation Monday. They had an opening Thursday morning, but that corresponds with my organization's big fund raiser; I'm one of the speakers.

Let's hope my mouth un-numbs by then.

Meanwhile, both my tomato-zucchini soup AND my super-protein chocolate shake are mostly wiped from my right chin.

I didn't have a straw.

Productivity and the Beast

This morning I got up nice and early, having spent the night in. I hauled ass outside and did some long-overdue yard maintenance. Mowed, ripped out the zinnias, weeded the zinnia bed, moved the tarp off of the as-yet-unplanted bed, put cardboard down over all of that, and moved some compost to where it should be. It had been deposited in the wrong pile, see.

Oh, btw? I have a "secret" blog now. It's password protected, and it is going to be the place where I pour out my sturm und drang more privately. I'm the only one with the password. That's how it's going to stay.

Meanwhile, I'm taking suggestions on how to get a delicious, sweet hard shell, such as one finds on an M&M or Smartie. I want to custom order a full-body suit made out of that material. I considered Kevlar, but I don't want to be *that* closed off. Not yet.

Another problem for solving

Thanks for your fabulous info about the garden plans! Now we have something different.

For the past week or so, I've been almost obsessively licking my lips. Mostly the bottom one. To top things off, there's a small wound just on the inside of my lower lip. I keep accidentally biting it.

This behavior change has coincided with a new med being added back into my mix. It's what they call a "wakefulness promoting" agent, which also is used for adult ADD.

I've tried to use chapstick to make the skin better, but it burns when I put it on, and it doesn't stop me from licking anyway. I also can't stop thinking about stopping.

I'm assuming the licking is a side effect related to the racing thoughts I have before going to sleep. The anxiety is supposed to subside after a bit, but I'm worrying a lot. I am much better able to concentrate, however.

So. Any ideas on how to stop the licking? Anyone have any bitter apple?

I still owe about $20K for this one.

The Role of /s/ Duration as a Perceptual Cue for Gay-sounding Male Speech.

"This thesis is an experimental analysis of the role that /s/ duration plays in how listeners perceive male sexual orientation based on speech. With listener responses measured as both a categorical (forced choice) response and a continual mean 'gayness' score, listeners' perception of a man as gay increased substantially with the longer /s/ durations in word-initial, stressed /skV/ and /spV/ environments. Listener participants heard one of 3 /s/ durations of a man whose sexual orientation had been perceived as neutral. ANOVA analysis showed that listeners who heard the longer /s/ durations perceived the man as sounding 'gayer'. In addition, multiple regression analysis showed that listeners who heard the longer /s/ durations were significantly more likely to judge the speaker as sounding 'gay'."

Oy

I'm reading that book that everyone else is. I'm near the end of it. I promise not to say anything about the content. But you know how with a suspenseful book there's a point where no matter how late it is, no matter how tired you are, no matter how many other things you should be doing you just can't stop?

I'm there now. I only stopped to write this because it's making me a little overwhelmed and I need a distraction. So maybe you *can* stop. I make no sense. Típico.

I've had a crap weekend. I only left the house today to pay rent and buy gas. I was up at 6 (!) and didn't get moving until 9 or so. I harvested worms for a woman from Freecycle who seems to have bailed on me. She's not responded, and I've a paper bag of slithery things near my front door. They're probably not very happy, but I did leave them with a cantaloupe rind.

I worked yesterday, a couple of hours, and then I did manage to do something social. A movie. Which, though excellent, wasn't a movie it's really necessary to see in the theater. I didn't go for the movie though. I went for the company. And that was way better than the movie.

But still, it felt like I'm just biding my time today. Until what, I don't know.

I dunno. I'm in a negative mood. It will pass. It always does, remember? It's good to document it here, even if I'm slightly freaked about the spike in blog views I've seen happening recently. I still think it's important to be open and such, but it's weird knowing this new site is posting all my entries for an extremely local audience. That I don't know.

impulse control

Hi!

(waves furiously!)

I swear I'm not crazy! A little kooky, yeah, absolutely. Entirely open to the blog about things that are on my mind? Mostly. Not entirely, if you can imagine that, though.

Anyhoo, let's just stash that blip of horridness aside, why don't we? Chin up, cheerio, pull those bootstraps up!

(Yes, I have an appointment)

I had a thought this morning:

Savory bread pudding made from leftover pizza. Is there any way this could be done without being all soggy and nast?

Apparently the Carolina Hurricanes called my workplace, wanting to have a community relations opp or some such with some teens. The captain, according to my boss, who has season tickets, is single, cute, my age and has three kids. I'm thinking I'll be involved in this new relationship between our organizations!

Not just Baptist. MISSIONARY Baptist!

Tonight is my debut as a faith-based, comprehensive sex ed trainer. A Missionary Baptist Church in a rural town in the county where I work called a while back and said their young people had requested STD information at their Vacation Bible School. I explained our approach to their youth minister, and she approved (!!). We scheduled for tonight; this will be my first actual sex ed programming since starting this position.

Despite the church having secured parental permission (with no problems, either), I'm still wary. I'm experienced in dealing with tough questions from strangers, but I've never done this particular crowd before. Will they say something that offends me? I'm actually really looking forward to whatever might happen. Part of me just doesn't believe that they are progressive enough to accept frank talk about STD prevention that encourages, but is not limited to, abstinence.

I had a meeting this morning with colleagues from another organization that does comprehensive sex ed, and they couldn't believe it either when I told them what I'd be doing tonight.

Since I'm not at all a person of faith myself, I also worry about whether they're going to ask me about my opinions. I'm going to do my best to make it about their question and not my answer. Once when a middle schooler asked me where *I* went to church, I floundered a bit, and said "I live in Nearby City. I don't go to your church."

This is either going to be a kick-ass experience or an ass-kicking one.

We'll see!

Lab Write up

Abstract:
Limited computer usage corresponds with a higher level of accomplishment, after one day. Multiple regression analysis showed an increase in chores outcome was significant (p=.00143). Minimizing access to the World Wide Web did negatively affect subject's (n=1) ability to access necessary information(1), however. Subject's reported anxiety levels fluctuated from none to major. Net mean of anxiety level was below standard. Chores outcome measured by number of loads of laundry put away (two), number of kitchens entirely clean (one), number of dishes washed (14), number of wastebaskets emptied (three), number of lawns mowed (one) and number of new compost heaps created (one). Subject reported no positive social interaction, however.

Further studies will address long-term sustainability of the project.

(1) A Betty Crocker Cookbook, ca. 1989 substituted for an online database to find a suitable pound cake recipe. Subject then added almond paste, almond extract (pure), and chocolate chips. No appropriate recipe was able to be found for acelgas.

Voiceless pharyngeal fricative

Last night at bar-closing thirty o'clock, I woke up thinking my house was being broken in to. There were voices outside and someone was pounding on my door. Strangely, my first reaction was "Oh, that's not about me," and so I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Within a few moments, though, the incessant pounding woke me up again. I had a delayed "Holy FUCK!" moment, exacerbated by my having cruised the state's sex offender registry website that evening, just before going to bed*.

I went into stealth mode. I slid out of bed without turning the light on. I peeked through the blinds in my bedroom, and was NOT very thrilled to see a couple of someones apparently trying to break in next door.

While I scrambled for clothes (it's HOT!) and wondered whether to call 911, I suddenly understood what was going on. My neighbor, bless his heart, had probably locked himself out AGAIN. Sure enough, when I turned my bedroom light on, the pounding began again in earnest. I flipped on the back porch light and there he was: sheepish, extremely apologetic, and deserving an ass kicking.

He now has my phone number, and I no longer have his keys.

It's a damn good thing the dog is cute.


*I was trying to find crime stats by neighborhood, while researching where I could afford to buy a house. The sex-offender website was the closest thing I could readily find. If you can extrapolate general safety based on those results, I am somewhat less safe here than in my old town, but considerably safer than I'd be anywhere I can afford to buy.

******************

p.s. I'm not doing very well this weekend. I am overwhelmingly anxious. NOT scared, which is what I was last night. Anxious. On edge. It's affecting my ability to do things.