PSST! Rantings, Musings, & "Not Your Mama's" Platitudes

 It feels like tomorrow should be Friday. I am exhausted this week. I'm still noticing improvement with my mood, but today was a poor mood day. I felt overwhelmed at work and tired in general. I have similar worries as before, but I have to trust that they will still accept me. I tend to go above and beyond at work to compensate for feelings of inadequacy in my personal life and hope for acceptance. However, this has proven not to be the right move in the past. I get that, I do, but I cannot help but to do my best. And I don't want to make myself small just because it makes other people feel weird. I truly want to help people; coworkers and patients. I don't know. Nothing I'm writing makes any sense. I'm making this more of a deal than it is. It doesn't matter! All I need to do is one thing at a time and hope that its enough. I will never please everyone—I need to learn this, accept it, and tattoo it inside of my brain. I don't want everyone to talk. I don&#

 So much has happened over the past week. I started a new position at work. It happened so quickly and I am so thankful. A former coworker passed away. My nephew turned 3 years old. When I list these things it doesn't sound like much. But the person I am has died and risen several times in a short while. Isn't that how it goes? Life drudges on and we think we are stagnant but then something happens, a moment we have prepared for over decades, and suddenly the weight of it all crashes down. We realize it was not all for nothing. We realize how exhausted we are from living. I spent the weekend in a fog trying to catch my breath. It seems life is like that sometimes. So much happens, all at once, and it feels like your body and mind can't keep up. But time keeps passing and life continues on, until it doesn't. So we keep going. I took a nap this afternoon and woke up in an awful mood. You would think it would help. I made homemade biscotti today. Dipped it in lemon ginger

 What a whirlwind the past couple of days have been. Working in healthcare is not for the faint-of-heart. I chose healthcare as a young person because I wanted to help people. I sincerely, fully, and with all of my whole heart, wanted to help people. That part of myself has never changed. Healthcare has changed dramatically. I remember working at Horton's Pharmacy in Belton back in the early aughts. I was a 15-year old full of energy and willingness to work hard and assist however needed. I remember vacuuming one evening before closing as the pharmacist sat on his stool in the corner. When I finished vacuuming, I was rolling the cord back on the vacuum when he pointed out a penny in the corner. He told me it had been there for years and no one had ever picked it up. That he kept his eye on it and waited for the person who would eventually pick it up. Young and naïve Lindsey reached down cheerfully to collect this coin and place it in his palm. Only all of these years later do I rec

 Today someone I had great respect for said something that disappointed me. They used the term "crazy," accompanied by two different medications used for depression, and then laughed because the word crazy could be used both ways. We had a new-hire meeting and, despite my objections, we are moving forward. My coworker talks about me behind my back every time I leave the room, yet says I need to speak up if I have an issue? There are so many double standards. I met with another manager in my department because I was so upset and didn't know what else to do. I feel so unheard. I have spent several months explaining myself and why I am having a difficult time with this, with promises for change, and nothing has changed other than me feeling less supported and more isolated. My daughter left school early because of a panic attack. I got a call from the school letting me know she has not completed a course needed to start another required course in order to graduate this sprin

 I think I've figured it out. This could be the key to my overall wellness. On my long drive from work to my parents' home to pick up my daughter, I gave a great deal of thought towards 'time.' I was frustrated for a few reasons.  Firstly, I have recently given my teenage daughter more freedom. She has broken curfew twice in the past two weeks, the second being today. I racked my brain trying to understand WHY she continued to break curfew. There weren't exceptional excuses or uncontrollable circumstances involved. She was late because she was present in the moment and enjoying conversation with her boyfriend and his family. The time before was because she was enjoying conversation with friends. Why, I thought, would she continue to break curfew knowing I would ground her? I think it could be a plethora of things. Maybe she truly forgot, lost track of time. It happens. I know it does for me. Maybe she figured it wasn't a big deal; although I would think my react

 I've been down with some sort of sinus thing this weekend. Assuming it's some sort of virus, since my covid tests have come back negative. Saturday I slept in until 12:00 noon, which is very rare for me. Other than driving my daughter to the grocery store and sending her with a list and my debit card, I spent the day in bed. I picked up some Rock and Rye for the first time on Friday night, and, I must say, I actually like it. Today I moved around a bit more. I made some soup out of a quarter of an onion left in the fridge, sauteed, one can of tomato sauce, water, chicken bouillon, two cans of pinto beans, and broken pieces of leftover lasagna noodles. I added salt, pepper, onion powder, adobo, and paprika. It turned out delightful. I wish I had some spinach or something green to add to it, but it's still good. I have plenty left for this week. I cleaned the kitchen and washed some clothes for the week. I go back to the doctor in nine days. This is to follow up on my medica

 Thursdays are, by default, 'Exhaustion' for me. I just spelled Exhaustion wrong and had to correct it. I am finding that spelling, which has always been a strength of mine, has slowly transformed into something at which I am mediocre. I am finding this to be true with several things. Is this an age thing? Do you hit your late thirties and lose all the 'umph' allotted to you at birth? Is there only so much 'umph' we are given? What is happening here? I am extremely exhausted and my left arm keeps falling asleep. Is it stress? An impending heart attack? Was I scrolling too long in one position? What gives? Who says 'What gives?' anymore? I am full of frustration and lacking of patience. I keep telling my teenager that I won't always be around in hopes that she will pick up the pace in this 'maturity' and 'growth' thing.  Me: *cooking dinner in the kitchen*  Me: What if I was gone tomorrow? How would you get to school? 16: Well, I would

 My head is killing me but I saw the best sunset of my entire life. The kind of sunset that makes you think, "Welp, that's it. Nothing better exists." All I wanted was to exist up in the clouds for an eternity. I don't think that's too much to ask. The temp is going to fall into the teens tonight. I was interviewing a patient at work who takes a certain popular weight-loss injection, and they told me they had not been taking it because the pharmacy had been unable to get it. They paused, slowly looked me up and down, and asked if I had ever tried said injection. I said, "No, I have not," and continued with the interview. This is the body I have. I have hated it my entire life. I am trying my best to see the value it brings. It allows me to make money to pay for my mortgage and my car and the new bed I can sleep comfortably in. It allows me to see striking sky displays in the mornings and evenings. It allows me to climb stairs and stand and kneel and walk

 I am the kind of angry that self-destructs. A crescendo without the build. A wave without the crash. I feel it in my jaw, my neck. This bracing of myself, armed and ready, in my shoulders. I do not want this anymore. I've done my best to make it work. I am past my breaking point. I have tried. The smiling and laughing and pretending. I cannot pretend to think it's funny when those things are said. I don't care anymore. They can think I'm a bitch. They can think whatever they want. They are free to do so. I, however, have no more space for it. And I'm not sure how to handle it without blowing up in their faces. Because that's what they want. They want me to get angry. They want me to raise my voice. That means they win. These people want to see me lose my shit. They want me to prove that I'm 'crazy.' They want to see it. They try to force it out. It's like I'm at a fucking zoo surrounded by monkeys throwing their shit at me, but when I finall

 I had the best weekend! On Friday, I had to leave work early because my new bed was delivered 3 days earlier than expected, and the delivery person left part of it at the base of my porch in the rain. My dad came over to help me get it up onto the porch and into the living room. On Saturday, I dragged the old mattress and box springs and bed frame out the back door of the house and into my shed, and I put the new bed together. It was not easy, and I have some bruises to show for it, but I got it done! Today I took Rylee to my parents' house so her boyfriend could pick her up and they could hang out. Mom and Dad took me to lunch and, afterwards, to see their gravesites lol. The Harris' are the neighbors and there's a really nice tree there too! 😂 We had a really great time. When I got home, I crawled under the house to insulate the pipes. I also insulated a couple of drafty areas. Hopefully we're ready for the frigid temps this week. I feel accomplished. I passed some

 Why is it that I ruminate over interactions with people? I think about what they said, how they reacted. I re-imagine their subtle shifts in mood and analyze how it was related to me personally. What a fucked up thing! This world does not revolve around me! I'm sitting here, on the first evening of my weekend off work, worrying about what the people I work with think of me. Worrying if they are mad I left early today because the bed I ordered was delivered ahead of schedule and left in the pouring rain. Worrying if this one particular person, who I only sometimes interact with, might think I am the same as all the others. Wondering if it would make a difference either way. Worrying about my teenager who was full of words yesterday but tonight will barely speak. Worrying about the neighbor who so kindly covered my package with trash bags, so it might be spared of extra damage, and stood with me on my porch talking for 30 minutes waiting for my dad to arrive. Worrying about the dish

 Today I have been extremely low. When I am depressed I feel worthless and ashamed of everything human about myself—everything that makes me who I am. I listened to the same song on repeat for 4 hours straight and it still wasn't enough. I talked to an old friend, which felt comforting but also made me sad,  because I don't want them to go away again. I want to be enough for someone to stick around for. I am enough now, but the depression makes me feel as though I am standing in a separate room, deep under water, with fluorescent lighting on the walls and ceiling while wearing a scratchy wool sweater that is one size too small. This was a terrible day. I wish that I knew how to be around people. I hate being the person that I am sometimes. I feel that the world does not understand me, and I try too hard to force it to. But you cannot make anyone do anything. And you cannot make the sun rise any sooner than it is already designed to (but you can make a cat chase a laser—so maybe

 My mood has been poor the past two days, but I'm still seeing improvement. Today work seemed to drag on, and all I wanted was to go home and do nothing. As I walked to my car after my shift, I witnessed the most beautiful sunset. I stopped to take a couple photos. Something about that sunset lifted my mood. Before the medication, there would be next to nothing that would be able to change my mood for the better. As I drove towards home, the sky became more vibrant. The oranges and blues were vivid and gorgeous so I pulled into the county library parking lot, opened my car door with one foot on the pavement, and took another photo. I swear pictures never do the sky justice. I came home and cooked dinner. I've been trying to keep up with chores this week so the weekend can be for relaxing, but I left the dishes tonight. I am so tired. I feel like I'm fighting some sort of sickness going around. Sometimes I get lonely, and then I take a good look around at my life. While thin

 Today was a poor mood day. I was more anxious and irritable and wanted to be left alone. I felt like I didn't sleep enough and my neck has hurt all day. I wanted to binge to feel better, but I didn't. Instead, I made pinto beans and rice for the next couple of days. I did some deep breathing and stretching. Spent about 45 minutes in complete silence. I watched Life of the Party with Melissa McCarthy and laughed so hard. I swear she and her husband are geniuses. I hope tomorrow is better. It’s exhausting, truly taking care of yourself. It’s something we’re not taught, not really. We, especially women, are taught to give absolutely everything we have, no matter the cost of our mental and physical health. I’m tired and angry that I’m having to learn this. Part of me feels resentment towards everything. I don’t know. Towards myself? I start thinking, “How did I let it get this far gone?” This caring for myself as a person, a human. And I find myself angry. And now that I see how l

 Tonight I'm thinking about the kyanite pendant a dear friend once gave me and how it probably washed away in the rain falling on a gas station parking lot. Later that evening, I grasped at the pendant, which always brought great comfort, and it was gone. It was probably the most valuable item I ever owned. The person who gave it to me meant a great deal, and if I've learned nothing else in this life, it's that holding on to the good memories and the people who were parts of them are more valuable than all the riches the world could possibly offer. Today was the first Monday I have felt absolutely normal. There wasn't this pressing heaviness constantly shifting over my body and mind. I felt like a normal human; or, how I would imagine a normal human to function. I still felt that inner buzz of anxiety, but it was at a more regulated level. I had energy to complete the tasks at hand. I left work, went to the grocery store, cooked dinner, cleaned up dinner, scooped the ca

 I've gotten a lot done this weekend. I was able to catch up on laundry, now that I have a working dryer. I made a lemon cake with Greek yogurt and honey. We ate Kimchee with each meal. I am tired. It's been a busy day, busy weekend. But it's been a good one. I caught up on dishes and I have the kitchen clean and ready for a new week. Fresh scrubs hanging in the closet. I a bit apprehensive about tomorrow. I don't think there was coverage in the ECC this weekend, so we will likely be busy. We are also short a person (but for good reason—she's in NYC!). I'm trying to have a positive attitude. I have been anxious today, and I'm not sure why. Perhaps it is because I am worried about work tomorrow. I have my mantra as my phone wallpaper: "I am present, and I can handle one thing at a time." I'm worried about the house payment. I got behind on some things and won't be able to pay it until my next deposit. I will call them tomorrow and let them k

 I can honestly say this has been one of the best days I have had in a long time. I woke up drowsy and exhausted from the medication, but, after a couple cups of coffee and a slow morning, I was ready to go. I felt the urge to go through my closet and declutter. This house has almost zero storage space—there is a tiny attic hatch, so no space to even crawl up into the space; both closets are tiny, and neither has any shelving (which wouldn't work anyway, because the clothes would hang directly on top of them). There is room under the house for storage, but it is not climate controlled. My closet is about 10 feet long with two clothes rods hanging—one at waist height and the other a little taller than how a normal clothes rod is installed. While I have lots of room for hanging clothes, I have very little room for storing anything else. No shelf for blankets or boxes or anything. However, I was able to stack some plastic storage bins down the length of the closet. Since we moved from

 I walked into my bedroom and stripped down to my underwear. I put on my sleep shirt, grabbed the designated living room sofa pillow and performed my very first pillow slam. A pillow slam is supposed to be an "approved," "good," "safe," coping mechanism. After the tenth or so slam, I pulled a muscle in my neck. Guess it's not so safe after all.  On my drive home from work, I sang Olivia Rodrigo at the top of my lungs and bitched about the workday to the highway. How I found out, after nine months of working at this place, the girls I worked with had purposefully omitted an easier way to complete one aspect of our job. This gatekeeping of information and purposeful manipulation strike a part of myself within that catches fire and decimates. People like this are consumed by fear and pursue control at all cost. I was rage singing and rage driving and rage rage RAGE at the vehicles in front of me who would not move. I reflected back to this morning when I

 Patients who suffer with mental health conditions are notorious for not taking their medications as prescribed. As a person with a diagnosed mental health condition, AND as a person who has worked in pharmacy for 18 years, I can tell you this is a very nuanced subject.  When I was 18 years old, I became unexpectedly pregnant with my daughter. At the time, I struggled with religious trauma. Looking back, I now realize I have dealt with anxiety, in one shape or another, my entire life. This anxiety, this generational trauma passed down in my genetic code, eventually came to a head. In combination of pregnancy hormones, feelings of guilt and failure as an unwed mother, and the realization that my life was heading in this one, seemingly permanent direction, part of myself shattered. I became severely depressed and suicidal. The only thing that kept me alive at the time was knowing my daughter was a part of me.  After giving birth and moving forward in life, my mental health was a tumultuo

 I survived Day One of New Year. Work was busy and we were short-staffed, but it went by quickly and I felt fulfilled. I got up early this morning and walked. Listened to Mel Robbins's podcast this morning. She is fantastic. It was the one with 8 top tips or 8 steps or something like that. I already put my phone away or I'd check. Go listen; it's worth every second. I am training my brain to be kinder to myself. I set an eating schedule today so I would eat more frequently and be less likely to binge. I think I did pretty well. I wrote affirmations on post-its and posted them around the house. I must say I feel a little foolish doing that, but it's time to do new things. It is clear the things I've done in the past have not worked. Or they worked for a short time as a coping mechanism. Now I have outgrown those coping mechanisms. It is time to restructure. 2024 will be a better year. It won't be easy, but I want to change for the better. I don't want to give