Holy crow! That’s a long title! hehe. Okay, so, after my last couple of sessions in therapy my therapist suggested I talk to my doctor about getting me on a low dose of antianxiety meds, to help take the edge off, when it comes to my anxiety.
You know, when you repeatedly tell yourself over and over that the thoughts you are having are insanely far stretched, and nothing you do makes those thoughts go away, you most likely sabotage (In my case.) I have been reading and listening to so many things on anxiety, that I will be a freaking expert by the time my meds kick in. I can say, though, that right now, I am reading Gary John Bishop’s “Stop Doing that Shit” and I am LOVING it. There are so many things that he says that makes me do a double take at my decisions and how I think about why I am the way I am. HIGHLY recommend along with the first book “UnFu*k Yourself”! He’s a really smart Scottish man. (now you can read the book like me, in an accent. It’s a lot of fun that way) I am also about to devour a couple books by Dr. Brené Brown, because she is amazing, as well! You can check her out on Netflix, too, or youtube.
We (my doctor and I) decided to get me started on a low dose, daily pill, rather than Xanax or anything PRN, for my issues. Non-addictive, and considered temporary. Just something to help me get through the fear of talking when it comes to men I am interested in.
Yeah. I know. I talked in a couple other blogs about it. I think. Sorry if this is a repeat, but when it comes to telling a guy that I want to take things to the next level, or that I am interested in them, or that I enjoy this or that about them, I clam up, and my stomach hurts, and I get the pukey feeling. It gets worse and worse, the longer I hang out with them, and eventually, everything ends. Cool. Greeeeaaaaat. (that’s sarcasm). So, I got tired of it. I noticed the first signs of this anxiety within days of meeting the last guy I talked to, and I was a literal mess for the whole time we were hanging out (“taking things slowly”…. like snails… no kissing, no sex. nothing. just friends working out together, eating each-other’s food and hanging out almost every other day), and I managed to fucking blow it, because someone said something about it being “all about sex” and I couldn’t shut my brain down, from that point forward. It wasn’t about that for me. It didn’t seem like that from him either. So, I knew better, but my brain was on a hard core “fuck you” route, and I couldn’t get the car to flip a bitch. So I drove full speed into the wall.
I am not talking about this to talk about him, because that’s long dead and over. I am talking about it because it was with him that I realized my issues and really decided to get ahold of this before it got too far out of hand.
This is not like some “oh he quit talking to her and now she’s sad”. It is a hardcore, brain overloaded while we were “together” type thing. I’m not even sad. I was more pissed off, because I didn’t get a second chance, but now I am over that, too.
Who’s to say it won’t happen again if I don’t start an anti-anxiety regimen? Who’s to say this anxiety won’t topple over onto another part of my life, if I don’t take care of it now. If I quit dating, so I don’t freak out, will my mind look for some other way to be freaked out? I don’t know.
Tomorrow is the beginning of the meds.
been in therapy
listened to books.
started sleep meditation and hypnosis (nightly for different things including anxiety.)
talk to friends.
Sometimes, all the other things don’t work, completely. Sometimes, you need more. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and I refuse to feel shame for falling on another method that works.
I am not sharing for sympathy or acceptance.
I am simply sharing to let you know (yeah you, that nodded your head while reading this), that you aren’t alone.
Happy Monday, ladies and gentlemen.