Ok, Fiiine, I’m stressed

I don’t know why I dislike using the word stressed so much. I don’t even think it’s in my immediate self-descriptive vocabulary. If someone suggests that something is stressful or that I might be stressed, I get defensive or dismissive. “No,” I might say in a jovial patronizing way, “It must be something else.”

Here’s what Siri had to say on it.

I think maybe I think it’s too broad or too general. I am an action oriented person. I am a “next right thing (NRT)” person. Stress seems sweeping and broad. Sure anyone could be “stressed” about almost anything, but what is the very next issue? What is the next thing that can be done?

As I sit here in the new year with the court order continuing it’s step-up plan, I’ll have Isabella today after school until tomorrow before school. I sit here with an ice pack on my torso to ease the burning of the shingles, still unable to wear a bra which makes leaving the house very uncomfortable for me. I’m on day 15 with the shingles. Work has been affected. I haven’t been able to do much around the house and I am not sleeping well. There are definitely some things going on, but am I stressed?

If I use the current literature that I am studying, which is the new Brené Brown book, Altas of the Heart, Brené describes being stressed as “being in the weeds” as a server at a restaurant. If you are “in the weeds,” your coworkers jump to help you catch up. If you are “blown,” they send you out back for a smoke. Blown stands for overwhelmed, in Brené’s example. It’s listed under the heading “The Places we go when things are uncertain or too much,” and it’s the first section of the book.

I could concede to saying “I am in the weeds” but not “blown.”

Also listed in this section are overwhelm, anxiety, worry, avoidance, excitement, dread, fear, and vulnerability. Not a small lineup to define or identify in one’s self.

Exploring more, I was on medication for depression for about five years before I discovered that anxiety was playing a role in the depression. There are no quick fixes here, people.

I’m not much of a worrier, again I am action oriented. What can I do in this very moment? If the answer is nothing, I tend to not worry. I suppose there are moments when there is subtle worry that evades my prying brain. I pray those are moments of meditation and behind the scenes problem solving; ideas that seem to come from thin air.

Avoidance is the root of my addiction so I keep that in check pretty well. The ultimate avoidance is drinking, so smaller versions of that are carefully considered. That being said, I can zone out on some Netflix, I consume too much food and sugar, I vape, and kill me before taking my coffee.

I run on healthy excitement. I only dread big things. Things that are way out of my control. And even then, I do my part and show up. Court. I dreaded court, yet, I had done everything in my power and I had to let the rest to god. Winning that case has brought on a whole new handful of stressors, so there.

Fear is an interesting one. I have some pretty basic human fears that I’m sure are shared by most of humanity. Perhaps another day, another blog.

And vulnerability. I find myself being vulnerable all the time. It’s very beneficial. If part of this writing is processing, then, at this very moment, what I realize as I write is that maybe stress sneaks it’s way in and steals some vulnerability. When I stop sharing or share less with my person, when I am dealing with just a little bit too much on my own and not reaching out.

Still just your average alcoholic

I scared myself just a little bit today. I have had shingles for two weeks now. The full gambit. It started the day before Christmas with a pain in my back that I brushed off as sitting around too much.

A couple days later there came the small rash on my rib cage. By the time I went to the doctor, I had a rash from my mid-torso all the way around to my spine.

It progressed to blisters and then scabs. I have been working from home for two weeks. Thank god for working from home because it is painful to wear a bra.

Oh yeah, look at those bad boys. 12/28/2022

All that has been well and good though. I kept loose fitting clothes on, worked from home, took care of myself. Fine. But then this second phase kicked in. The rash is still there and it hurts. Then there is this other layer of internal pain that has been the really hard part. I’m told it is a virus that runs along a nerve in the body. I’m not much of a googler for illnesses so I don’t know the ins and outs. This second week of both internal and external pain has been hard.

Here comes the scare: I thought to myself today, just for a moment, it would be nice to not be feeling any of this pain for a while. Pain pills, that I think the doctor had mentioned when I was there, popped into my head followed ever so quickly and ever so briefly with booze.

The thought was gone as soon as it came. I am an alcoholic in long term recovery. It’s going to happen. The question is what do I do with it? Well, here you are reading. I process it. I don’t deny that it happened. And I celebrate that it was just a wimpy little measly thought that led to absolutely nothing.

I am not sleeping well. I have been in pain for a full week. There is an external burn and an internal stingy crampy shivery mess. It blows. I am worried about missing some work and there is a new schedule with Bella in 2023 and I’d deflated and I’m tired.

But guess what? I’m fucking sober. And I’m gonna stay that way. Now were is my cat and my robe?

The new routine is read and then write

I have just finished Brené Brown’s new book Atlas of the Heart. In it, she states that most people are familiar with three emotions: happy, sad, mad. Oof.

After defining the deficiency in language and successfully hooking this reader, she goes on to describe 87 emotions and experiences. Eighty-seven! Even after reading the book, I went back to the table of contents to count them. Brené puts them into categories of “Places we go when…” Perhaps that is why they didn’t seem so daunting.

I am fascinated by the research method she uses. She is a quantitative researcher using grounded theory. She writes on where the research takes her, not on a theory she comes up with and sets out to prove. I love that she defines this for the reader because once the theory comes from the research, then and only then does she go out and to find other research that supports her data. Her books are loaded with other research and studies. A hilarious side effect is that the results of her research often frustrate her as a measuring stick Texan. Not to mention she is 20 years deep into her work, no end in sight. Another finding leads to another question and the work continues.

I find this work so necessary in the present moment. When it comes to emotions, the language of, emotional well-being, mental health, and meaningful connection, we, as a society, are infants.

In my own life experience, the stories go back to the dust bowl and WWII. My grandmother was born in 1929. Think about how much has changed in her lifetime. My parents are boomers born in 1948 and the result of the WWII generation. I was born in 1979 and computers became an accessible thing in my lifetime. Trying to explaining half of this to my kid, born in 2015 is near impossible.

Our rate of change is alarming. Mental health is still a relatively new concept. Disconnection in the digital age is also very new. It’s changing us in ways that have no precedent. If we don’t evolve, we won’t evolve. That sounds kind of dangerous to me. So 87 emotions and experiences? Okay, I’m in.

Here is the list. Good luck.