Batcycle!

Todays weird.

So I woke up this morning and had one of the worst panic attacks. Actually, I call them all the worst because they all suck balls and feel terrible. I have this freak out and then I calm myself down and felt fucking awesome when it was over.

Then I got on the subway train and was listening to music thinking about how upset I am all the time. And how it’s futile to go over this shit and how all my hard work is going to nothing because there is no change.

Then I got off the subway and I was listening to a song and heard this really weird noise. It was like an angry lion was trying to throw up and roar super loud at the same time. I heard it over my headphones. I look up and there’s three fucking guys in the subway all playing the fucking accordion and sounding so fucking terrible –  everyone was so business going about their morning going by them acting like the three fucking guys playing three fucking accordians terribly was totally the norm. And then I realized something. This was fucking hilarious. And if I had been caught up in my own thoughts I would have completely missed it.

Then I realized something else. I spend majority of my time in my own head and miss a lot of stuff. So I’m going to stop doing that.

I met one of my friends the other day and she gave me a tarot card lesson. Then that night I had a dream that was like an action adventure flick. In the dream, this totally hopeless situation was occurring and this kid that I was trying to protect was getting kidnapped. And I was off in the distance and all I had to try to catch up to the kidnappers was a motorcycle. I saw the motorcycle, and I distinctly remember in my dream having a moment of “I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle” but then in the dream I said fuck it and hopped on – I expected it to crash but it didn’t and I rode the motorcycle on this crazy rooftop/stair railing chase – apparently the motorcycle could fly too – maybe it was batmans motorcycle? the batcycle! – anyways it was pretty much the best thing I ever dreamt and it was such a wild adventure. I totally caught up to the bad guys, beat them into confessing where the kid was, and saved his life. 

I was totally bad ass in the dream. I was doing something super cool. I wasn’t afraid. It was exhilarating.  

I have started drawing again big time, I am actually getting my skill back and it was way faster than I thought it would be. I still don’t know how to shade properly but I never did so whatever.

Basically, I am back to achieving things. I am actually in a good mood. For the first time. In a fucking year. I mean I’ve been in good moods – but usually they have some underlying crap and I’m never actually in that good mood. It’s like a good mood despite being seriously upset deep down. A good upset mood. I think that over the last little while something is changing.

Especially because this morning I came to work and someone who is very important to me told me they were worried about me. That I was drinking too much. I thought about this differently than usual. Normally I would become very angry with myself or freak out or whatever dramatic bullshit. But today I thought, there is some merit to this. She is right, I have been drinking a lot. despite all the things I have been improving, drinking has gotten a bit out of hand. So – my solution is not to drink so much.

It was that fucking easy. I didn’t flip out, I didn’t cry and I didn’t think everybody hates me. Okay I thought that last one but only briefly.

I didn’t go extreme and think – I’m a fucking alcoholic – But I also didn’t ignore it and say hey nothings wrong what the fuck. I know why I like to drink, it’s because I don’t feel any of the effects of my anxiety – a few drinks in I don’t feel it and I don’t have to work to not feel it. I don’t have to feel awkward, I just feel like everything is okay. I rarely feel like everything is okay.

It’s not a solution though. Because I end up drinking too much and being a bitch. Also, the anxiety usually surfaces at some point, so I end up having anxiety and being drunk. Not a good combination really.

So. it’s an issue. I will cut back. It won’t be easy but I will take it one step at a time - Like I have with any other problem I have dealt with. I think I am gaining more confidence in my ability to handle myself.

And I feel really really good about that.

Something is changing for sure. Things are improving. I think all this work I have been doing is paying off. But I also don’t want to continue to get caught up in my head. It’s time to breathe – a lot – take some time and start allowing myself to enjoy things. I want to enjoy being a young woman, I want to enjoy having friendships, I want to enjoy my relationship, I want to enjoy and appreciate all these things. I think I am ready. I feel really good right now. And I want to have more good dreams because that fucking batcycle was so fucking cool.

So yes todays weird – because I feel good. And while that statement is kind of sad, at least today I can enjoy the weirdness. And maybe one day – if I’m lucky - a weird day like today will be the norm.

The Big Dump

Almost a year ago, I, Tiger Slut, was unceremoniously dumped. It was an unpleasant occasion on all counts. Tiger Slut was upset, the dumper was upset and the family was upset. When you are with someone for a very long time (5 fucking years) and when you have certain expectations (unrealistic – marriage and kids with someone who could not even talk about marriage and kids) it can be a big blow. Especially when it is your first experience with this kind of thing (First relationship – handed over the vcard for its only ever swipe = young/naive/inexperienced)

I sat there, on a sofa that didn’t belong to me, in an apartment that was not under my name, crying tears of confusion and grief that were over the end of a relationship that was long overdue to end. I was lost.

Where was I to go?
Where was my home now?
What would I do without him?
How would I face everyone?
How would I make ends meet?
There was one comfort (Kitty – the cat – my cat – there was no custody battle)

She sat on a table, a black table from Ikea, a black table I hated. A black table I constantly stubbed my freakishly long toes on, that was too short to do anything on, that seemed so out of place. The black table stood stubbornly on a carpet that wasn’t mine, a monster faux persian rug mess that collected far too much dust and never came clean no matter how many times I took the mini vacuum to wage war against it.

My sweet Kitty cat sat in front of me. She was as cool as a cucumber. She licked my hand once. A warm tear fell on it and our eyes met. My messed up snotty teared face met her calm and knowing eyes and it happened.

I got a fucking grip.

The tears stopped. Yes, temporarily, but they stopped. Long enough to come up with a game plan, long enough to make some decisions. The first step was to pack everything the fuck up and get the fuck out of there in as little time as possible.

I moved home – my worst nightmare – or so I thought – and it turned out to be fun.

I moved back to the city I was in, this time on my own. And after some roller coastiness I managed to have my own place where I stay of my own volition. Everything balanced and settled. It took time, it was fucking painful, but it was the wake up call I needed.
It was this punch to the Vagina that made me realize I needed to change. It would have been very easy if I could simply blame the person I was with for my misery/upset/depression/offness/insecurities/every bad thing I ever felt or ever would feel. But even with him out of my life it remained. Something was wrong and I had to get to the bottom of it if I wanted to function and really let myself be happy.
After some episodes – to be expanded upon – it was suggested I see a counsellor. Here, at the age of 26, I found out I had a Disorder. It was called GAD. I wasn’t the only one suffering from it. Lots of people had it. And I have had it all my life.

 
I just did not know.

 
Knowing changed everything. Knowing meant I could take action. Knowing meant I had options. It took a long time to accept that I had a disorder, that my thought process was not how it had to be. That I could let go of big burdens if I wanted to. It has/is taking a lot of work. It can be/is exhausting. It can be/is rewarding to make progress. I am working on it/I am coping with it/I am suffering from it/I am fighting it/I am accepting it. I have GAD. And now I know.

 
I have changed since and partly due to the Big Dump.

 
I’m not the only one, so has my cat.

 
Kitty is now known as Miss Kitty and she won’t take your attitude and she will deliver advice with Sass at a 1 dollar and twenty cent per minute basis. Plus Applicable Taxes.