My Meds Have Kicked In, And I Am Finally Feeling More Like Myself.

I talked, in my last entry about how I started meds and they take a few weeks to kick in. Well,, they’ve kicked in and I feel great. The racing thoughts aren’t there anymore. I don’t feel like I need to be attached to someone to feel validated. I don’t need or care for the approval of others.

I am a little peeved right now with someone who is sticking their nose in places and stirring the shit pot, but then again, I don’t really care, anymore. My statement was valid, and that’s that. In short, I dodged one hell of a bullet and I am thankful that someone else witnessed behavior that I thought I was crazy for seeing.

I’ve talked about so much stuff over the years of widowhood. I’ve talked about dating and not dating and narcissistic or toxic people. I have talked about my feelings as a widow, and how different things pull different emotions from me, than they would pull from someone else.

One thing about me will never change. I am one of the kindest, most thoughtful people out there. There are times when I say insensitive things and don’t realize I am saying something insensitive. There are times when I seem mean because I am defending someone or myself. There are perceptions of my personality that can and will always be skewed to whoever is judging.

At some point, I went from being the person who does everything out of the kindness of my heart, always trying to do the right thing and not worrying about what other people thought, because I was doing what I thought was right, and turned into the person who had so much anxiety about what one person thought of me. Even though, everything I ever did was because I cared about a misunderstood version of myself.

For about 3-4 weeks, I was in a state of perpetual anxiety. When I woke up in the morning, I had thoughts of unworthiness. When I was scrubbed in for surgery, I had thoughts of not being good enough. When I came home, after all day of running thoughts of unworthiness, I was exhausted. But my mind kept playing the tune, even as I fell asleep every single night. Some nights I would wake up in the middle of the night, and not be able to go back to sleep for a few hours because of my running commentary. I was very quiet at work for a few weeks. I only talked to a couple of people and I cried more than I have ever cried over those weeks. I wasn’t crying over anyone, just my own inability to control the thoughts in my mind. I was never secretive about my anxiety, either. I was very up front and honest about what I was going through, as I was trying to handle it.

I have never experienced anxiety like that before, and I hope I never do again. I am the picture of confidence when you see me in person, but in my mind, over those weeks, it was rough. I thought I liked someone, but I didn’t know, and the fear of even trying to be anything more than friends was rooted so deep into my core. I knew I wanted to find someone and have a relationship and THOUGHT I was ready, but the anxiety of fucking it up was too much for me to handle.

Yes, I understand. A lot of people have a fear of ruining a relationship. Sure. Everyone has a bit of anxiety when it comes to trying to date. But, the moment it invades your mind, and takes over your actions is the moment the line is crossed.

I’ve talked about my side of the “crazy” in me. So many people don’t know the whole story, because I haven’t told more than a few people about what was said to me, over the weeks I was in a funk. And I won’t. Not really.

And, honestly, my funk wasn’t the fault of the person who endured my anxiety. Not at first. It stemmed from someone before him and slowly trickled from little things that were said to me at the most random times.

Here are a few statements from a couple different people.

“I want a something more from you, than just friendship,” followed immediately by silence for weeks to a month at a time.

“You’re gorgeous, and strong and confident, but I don’t want to lose you as a friend,” followed shortly by “can’t we just have sex with no emotional attachment, and stay friends?”

“Haven’t you ever regretted kissing someone?” Seconds after kissing me.

“I can’t say if I like you or not. We just met.” After kissing me and hugging me and holding me like we had known each-other for years.

All while knowing I had anxiety and was experiencing a bout of it at that time. Little things that added up over time. I am not typing this stuff to bash anyone at all. I am sharing experiences I’ve had, that I hope to never go through again. I am sharing in hopes of raising awareness to others who may have been in a similar situation. And, I am not sharing to be a victim. I am not a “victim”, just a naive lover of people, who misses or ignores the “bad” stuff sometimes. I always try to see the best in people.

I’m over what happened and now that I know why I was in such a state of panic and fear, I can continue to work on it with therapy, blogging, private journaling and meds. My doctor, her nurse, and my therapist all agreed that what happened to me over a 6 month period would do to anyone what it did to me. It was helpful to know that experts agree on that.

I will be 100% honest, about myself, too. I had a few weeks where I was most definitely not myself. I had a few weeks where I didn’t like myself. I had a few weeks where I would text someone and say things that I regretted immediately after hitting send. Then I would apologize for the novel-long texts and came off as a completely crazy person.

I am aware. it’s why I sought help and medication. I stepped back and thought, “holy shit! I have become the crazy chick!” And, really, I am not that person! I can’t convince people who refuse to get to know me when I am myself, and that’s okay. I can’t control what others think of me. No one can. Some will love you (friends family, lovers, etc), and some won’t.

We aren’t meant to be loved by all, and that’s okay. I’m slowly getting back to who I really am, and leaving that scared, unsure person, who I had become for a short time, behind me.

I will never take kindly to people being rude to me, for no reason. I won’t allow anyone to walk all over me. I refuse to be viewed as a victim, and I refuse to victimize anyone else.

One thing that I believe wholly is that we should never leave a negative impact on someone, if you can help it. The hardest part of that is sitting back and allowing someone to dislike you and have a negative opinion of you.

if you made it this far, please, hop on over to the contest I am in to be on the cover of Maxim Magazine! Shoot a free vote my way and share the link with your friends!

***Warning!*** Pictures are risqué! nothing shows, but they’re mostly boudoir. https://maximcovergirl.com/2020/tabatha-wood

Order. Thoughts. Feelings. Anxiety. Fear. Friendship. Dating. Therapy.

You know, when I started this journey as a widow, I looked at how well I managed everything, mentally. I thought I was doing great. No kidding. I felt like writing was helping me, so much, and that I was keeping myself away from a depressive state by working out on a regular basis.

In many ways, I was helping myself, as well as hindering myself.

I wrote about how writing became an emotional crutch. I am great at putting my feelings and thoughts on paper. Here’s why. What you don’t see? All of the OTHER stuff, that’s irrelevant to the topic at hand, that I ALWAYS add in, because that’s what pops into my mind, and my fingers click click click it out. You don’t see the disorganization of my thought process, because I clean it up before posting. You don’t see me cry because the things I type are so insanely deep, and painful.

You can’t see the mess. You see what I present to you.

That is basically where I have trapped myself.

Recently I was seeing a guy, and let me tell you, he probably thinks I am certifiable. On day two of hanging out, I realized a couple of my issues, and I SPOKE THEM OUT LOUD to him! I was literally just thinking out loud. Now, let me tell you, though, he had told me, many times, “I want to know all of you. The good. The bad. The beautiful and the Ugly. Will you show me?”

I thought, “Wowwww! That’s amazing!” I thought it was a big score. I mean, no man that I’ve met since my late husband has ever seen that many parts of me, nor has one REQUESTED it.

This guy, though… We met in the midst of one of my biggest self discovery phases. Considering how scary it has been for me, over those weeks, I can’t even imagine what went through that poor man’s mind.

It’s okay though. I am not going to talk crap, but it was very clear that we weren’t going anywhere beyond friends.

Over the last few days of us talking, all he did was respond to texts (never initiated) and when we talked on the phone he always sounded annoyed. When I would try to talk to him about stuff, via text, he would be cold and say “say it to my face.” Finally, I tried. I worked up the courage and fought the anxiety to go see him and talk to him about the things I couldn’t say, just days prior, and he refused to see me. He refused to even talk to me.

So, It’s clear we aren’t anything, and that’s okay. I have no hard feelings. I probably would have ran away from me a lot quicker than he did, to tell the truth. I called him when he told me “try saying it out loud. I don’t want a texting relationship.” He didn’t answer. So I texted him that I don’t think I even want him as a friend, because I don’t want another “friend” who ignores me. I put up with it for 6 months and refuse to do that shit again.”

The next morning, though… I felt awful and knew I ruined what could have been a fantastic workout partner, friendship. I texted him an apology (on Sunday) and left it alone. No word. I tried ONE last time, ordering edible arrangements and offering an apology and telling him where I would be if he wanted to give the friendship part a second chance (This got a biggest head shake and deep sigh from my girlfriends. I even deep sighed myself and kind of knew what would come of it.) No response.

I am complicated.

I am open.

I don’t lie.

I try my HARDEST when it comes to being a good person.

Do I hurt feelings sometimes? Sure. Not for fun, that’s for sure. I HATE hurting feelings, but shit happens sometimes and there’s no way around it.

I need someone who can hang with my ups and downs as I journey through my self discovery, but also tells me if I am being crazy. I need someone who won’t run at the first sign of a panic attack or if it takes me a day or two to organize and gather my thoughts and feelings, to speak them out loud. I need someone who can assure me that they only have eyes for me, and that they do every day, not just when I am with them.

Do I need that now? hell no.

Do I need that soon? Again. No.

But, when the time comes, and a man steps into my life, and thinks he actually wants to stay, he has to be strong enough to withstand my internal storms, and know that it’s not about him.

I workout for therapeutic release of negative energy. I journal privately as a form of therapy. I write, sharing my journey, as part of my therapy. I have an ACTUAL therapist, as a form of therapy, and I have stumbled into sleep hypnosis for anxiety, panic attacks, healthy habits, positive thinking and so on. I read everything I can get my hands on when it comes to overcoming anxiety and overthinking, and negative self talk. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was going to be working on myself. I am also not so naive to believe change will happen overnight.

I am okay with it. I am okay with steady improvements. I am okay with really taking the time I’ll need to find myself, and be comfortable with myself again.

And one day, I’ll meet a man who is okay with my process as well.

I am in no rush.

From the book “Unfu*k Yourself” by Gary John Bishop.