Pain and lack of sleep decreases healing and increases discouragement. The pain is from training and another core ball fall. Lack of sleep is from Max owning the room in the early morning hours.
The stack of todo chores is overwhelming. The depressive mind is especially adapt at putting that list in the forefront when you’re least likely able to make progress. And it is like we have never talked about this. There is a strategy for this situation, but it’s almost like it never existed. I can’t remember. So pain and tired and depression suck away the possibility of joy, or even just ok.
Stiff from first ever HVZ Goat Yard shift. Alone—no second attendant— for most of the shift. Started just liking having no people stopping by. Meditating. Just sit: clouds, goats, red barn roof top weathervanes. The restaurant closes at 4pm. No chance to eat after shift, will need to come early. I miss my goat herd. These goats, their names, the mix of horn or not are not my goats.
Looking forward to posting content to blog. But both sites are unreachable. Tech support was not able to determine the issue and will have to wait until Monday for different staff to look into the issue. Starting to wonder if the problem is as simple as needing to update the debit card expiration date.
Still stuck on websites not working. Email has not been shut off, still arriving, payment issues not effecting that aspect.
Keep thinking about smug Tim and his Full Circle email. Totally took the desire out of wanting to send him another daily. I told Claude that I would not send anything all weekend. Silly to send a daily on days that Tim is not around. He won’t be back in the office until Tuesday. The first step is to see if I can refrain from sending anything Sat-Sun-Mon. So far. I’m not panicking. The reason: the smug Tim stuck in my head. Stuck in the emotion buffer of my heart.
Letting Max pull stuff off my shelf. Forcing self to sit very still and not care, not care, not care. The stuff will be on the floor, right? Can’t really go anyway, right? Can the objects or papers get destroyed or lost? Will I have less stress to not care, to let it happen? No amount of thinking the action through can fully reveal all the consequences of letting this happen. Sometimes not caring can reveal the real truth of how something really is. You can think all through the what will happen, but can’t force everything, sometimes just need to watch it play out in real time.
Middle school. In bed, realized I could switch my breathing: automatic to manual if I focused on it. Happened maybe three days. Actually I was trying to die by holding my breath. But once I achieved making it completely manual, then it was freaking me out because I couldn’t switch back. Panicky. Trying something had a completely different result than I wanted. That was the scary part—stuck in manual, couldn’t undo it. A kid lying there in the dark, alone, testing something, then terrified I broke it.
Driving to New Berlin. Something flickered in the corner of my eye, my glasses. Got hugely scared—at nothing—and tapped the brakes too hard. Escape skidded sideways a bit. Scared me more. Next time I needed to slow down, hit the brakes too hard again. Kept happening. Why can’t I just get past the fact that I got scared at nothing? Chain reaction. Hit the brakes too hard over and over. First time this has happened since I got the Escape. Feels like commentary on my life. Get scared at nothing, can’t stop overreacting.
Building manager doing floor repair in the hallway between the main hall and side door. Two days of drilling, scraping, pounding, moving equipment around. Sound was living in my apartment. Sounded like they were under my floor. Then corner by the ceiling. In the cat litter box scraping—checked, wasn’t Max. The noise was moving to different parts of my apartment. In my space. Wall and door between us but it didn’t matter. Drove the shit out of me all day.
Thing so easy, but not: causing grief. Make arrival of Max wet food seamless. # of cans, # of days. Auto-ship with time frame. Yet keep running out of cans or ending up with overabundance. This is a parallel to something else in my life, except I can’t quite figure out what the other thing is. Part of feeling or pattern?
Incorrect, however, I have been known to ruminate for sure, but not lately // Instead, there has been more processing and making connection through thoughts and writing.
Correct, I did not use the superpower to go to pool Fri nor Sat… but I did go. I wanted to go… and, yes, a push from Tim did help for Sun success.
Correct, the egg cooker is still in the shipping package. Superpower took awhile to fully work, but I shopped, picked the one that I liked the most. Why is it not unwrapped? Cleaning is an ongoing, long term struggle. Philip did at least two things related: he made the best boiled eggs and he kept the kitchen clean. Maybe talking about grief is what’s needed. Yeah, actually it is, because now I’m crying.
Here’s what’s making me angry: Tim said “Little less talk and a lot more action.” “Just do more.” “Generally, failure doesn’t stop people. People give up.”
There’s an enormous list of doing. It started with one second on a core ball. Not just talking, not just writing. A hell of a lot of done, do, and doing. No need to send Tim the list. Tim has lived it with me.
Do more? What about the plethora of actions Tim isn’t privy to? Fuck you, Tim.
The music essay was immensely more than just about music.
Why was I trying to find deeper connection with people where I was never going to be friends?
Severely angry about breaking the rules.
No mention that I did a clever serial thing with the daily; the splitting wasn’t exactly easy. // why am I looking for validation for something stupid?
Wanted credit for refraining from a attachment; the restraint wasn’t exactly easy; now none existent.
Understood: People can have wide range of music tastes.
Understood: Same song means different things to listeners.
I lost touch with music when I no longer had my Ford Ranger nor my membership to Princeton Club.
A Nickelback song on the list. One that was already mine. The irony: processing, sends me straight into tears.
There is an emotional backstory on what Nickelback means to me.
And now how to keep my Nickelback sadness out of the new weight training? “You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness.”
This all feels like such a cosmic joke. The irony. Not a full circle; maybe a split ring.
Will want to consider how to take advantage of Escape stereo.
But, I will want to invest in headphones to add music back to training, question?
Will the system automatically drop Friday? :::sigh::: Makes next wait, long.
Daily planning is figuring out what to send when. Planning falters when the facts of the day call for a change of message.
There was no weekend plan implemented. The plan was to make a plan, to prioritize. Didn’t happen. Friday, stuck. Saturday, stuck. Two hours shy of a full 48 hours. Sunday became alive at the time to pack for push. I was one of three. When we parted, my plan was to workout in the pool.
I could go East or West. I chose the functioning jets. Every good thing has faults. Fast current during the Sunday family 2-7pm period is not fun.
Locked myself out of my locker. Second time in 6 weeks. My name is again listed in the official record of locker assist!
The full plan didn’t get finished. Tuesday is push and sword. Friday is Tim and Goat Yard. This is a lot, but not enough. When is solo saber practice? When is weight training? When is the next trip to the pool? When is the returns to Amazon? When is the decision happening about whether to continue the conversation about music?
Last Sunday, email from Philip about $35. Nearly had a meltdown. That devastated, depressed feeling. Felt like I had no one to talk to for advice. Can I wait until Friday or can I solve this myself, on my own. What should I write? What should I do? I asked myself what would I be told. Do forthright communication. I thought I did that. I didn’t realize my opening, “Wow. Thanks for asking.” was not the most mature. I thought I did make it clear in the body of my email what I wanted to happen. Hearing that my reply was basically petty, totally compounded the lost feeling. I didn’t understand all the questions Tim asked about what happens next.
Talking about the ask for money was not meant to be forgotten. It was on the list; just didn’t have the list for reference. I was confident that the topic just needed to be reported, not discussed. I felt scolded—that I’ve done the Philip in the last few minutes pattern before. Maybe he is a topic that can take an entire session; but, that is not how I want to spend my time. Especially since the next step is based on whether or not Philip replies.
I hate how, no matter how much “validation provided for efforts” happens, I feel like I failed raising Philip. And this week, I didn’t know how to answer. And then my reply was less than perfect. And I was accused of dropping a bomb end of session. So is that one more flaw for not putting Philip as a topic at the top of my list?
All I really wanted was to hear that I handled $ ask correctly.
I have two appointments Friday morning on the far West side of Madison: dental cleaning and growth tracking. First, Old Sauk Clinic. No drilling scheduled. Next, Tim.
Curious… Deming Way: 3 miles north, 8 minutes (too much of a sad parallel reminder of character count and reading time).
I’ve only been once to the location on Deming Way. “…I would be early and have a long long wait. Does the sitting and waiting cause more or less anxiety? I think I’ve learned my lesson. Just compartmentalize and call it done. Ready. Set. Player One. That is after I’ve done my time, and waited for the start. No Tim. I could connect from here. At the top of the session is a review of the rules. Can’t call it a do-over, Tim doesn’t like that; recalibration perhaps. I’d sit on the couch with my laptop, maybe the pie chart pillow on my lap, and leave the computer space untouched for Tim. Would I need a key to enter? Has the office already been locked up for the weekend? Or is there some shared space happening and I’m trapped outside?…”
The irony sits clean as I’m driving back downtown: I’m nearly where he could be. Just that he’s at home. Soon I will be at home, as well. I already completed preregistration, and I said ‘yes’ at home. Is it breaking the rules to actually be somewhere else, as long as I’m still in Wisconsin? There is no chance of an escape, out of state, in an hour travel.
Just an active fantasy life. No space was or will be invaded. I’m not there. Never was.
When I was attending commercial art classes at MATC, one day, my art instructor made the observation that I probably felt depressed, because I was always walking, looking down at my feet. I was both annoyed and relieved that someone noticed. He told me to stand up straight and look at people. The depression was so real that no one talking could alter the heavy feelings. A small brightness filled me, however, because someone took the time to see me and tell me what they saw.
I’m somewhat awed by how therapy has typically come from people who were not my therapist. All the years working with my personal trainer, Kevin, he was someone in my life that greatly made a strong difference. He wasn’t purposefully trying to be a life coach, however, I heard life messages in his weight training, fitness instruction, or simple conversation. If anyone else would have said to me, “it is what it is,” I may have wanted to vomit with disgust. Hearing that phrase seemed to have both a very subtle nasty interpretation or a positive one. From Kevin, I could hear the positive meaning and feel calmed. Suddenly my laminating or ruminating would become nullified. Acceptance for reality and not wishing for something else.
Many years later, weight training with Kevin, he would repeatedly say to me the body alignment/posture instruction for the exercise being performed. For numerous exercises, the phrase “head up, chest out” was the reminder. Even if I was in the correct alignment, Kevin still would give the instruction as reinforcement. Definitely, the difficult part was the “chest out,” because I felt self-conscious about doing something, even slightly, tied to sexuality. I was quietly, in my own mind, being challenged to improve my own body image along side having good posture.
Outside the gym… applying weight training in real life… there was this one day walking to work, sagging head and droopy feet. I suddenly heard the voice of Kevin. I did my best to force myself to comply: head up chest out. Begrudgingly, I had to admit that a change of posture could change mood.
Doing weight training on my own… without the direct instruction received during a check-in day with Kevin… I needed to develop motivational techniques to keep going, not give up on my fitness goal. I got into the habit, as I counted out the reps… talking to myself… I learned to talk to myself: “all you have to do right now is count to ten.” This was about, not thinking about whether I could do the second or third set… “right now, all you have to do is count to ten.” Those were the moments I loved weight training the best. When I could feel that I was doing it right, my muscles spoke to me of their push and pull, how fighting to squeeze out the last couple of reps was fulfilling. Focus on the present, pinpoint your thoughts on the next action that is most difficult. Only that, nothing more.
In the pool my mind would wander so much, that I never could keep track of my lap count. I was incredibly frustrated about my unfocused mind. I had to start a mantra for each lap, “working on one,” for the entire length of the pool up and back. Then “working on two.” After awhile, “workin on it” became the personal shorthand for acknowledging something difficult without spiraling into self-judgment. Not “I’m fine” and not a full explanation, just workin on it. The phrase encouraged focusing on the present, and be reassured that I was where I needed to be, doing what I needed to do. It even worked when nothing had been accomplished for a particular task on the job. When someone asked about the status of that task, telling the lie, “working on it” was the perfect answer to actually jump start out of procrastination into getting the thing done in record time.
One more place at the gym has a phrase. The resistance pool has jets to create a current. This pool is called the resistance or current pool for a reason—that I believe—means one is supposed to walk into the current. Fighting the current is meant to be the muscle, endurance building while being gentle on knees. I get extremely irritated when other members use the current pool as a lazy river holding onto noodles or just free floating. “People this is the resistance pool; that means you walk against the current!” My anger allows me to assume a fixed mental stance that I don’t move or go around them; they must go around me. The dialog in my head is one or many thoughts: “This is my place, this is my space, I belong here, I will not yield, I’m coming through, I’m not going around you—you go around me. Push against the current.” When I’m tired and my walking time is far from complete, I might switch to “working on it.” I’m working on this next 10 minutes.
All of these – the counting, the lap mantra, the resistance pool stance – started in my body before they became thoughts. Physical first, mental second. That’s my pattern. Tim says my resistance pool self talk is exactly what I need to name in order to be confident in other parts of my life… The advice he gave…
“Confidence is attractive. But you can act confident without being confident—and that still works. Faking it till you make it is a very real strategy.
“In the resistance pool, you choose: walk against the current or with it. This is the resistance pool—that means you walk against the current. When I’m in there I have this attitude: I’m coming through. This is my space. I’m not going around you—you go around me. That is a very confident stance.
“This is the best example of what we want to do in other places in life. You own this space. Not anyone else’s. If you find yourself in any other situation without that thing—what would it be like to act like the person who owns the room? Who doesn’t give a fuck?
“Confident people still have tons of doubt. They just don’t show it. That’s the persona. Get the fuck out of my way—I’m doing this right, so you move.
“You have the agency to choose this. Actually doing it is far more tricky. But part of it is just telling yourself you’re going to. Hype yourself up. I’m the one controlling the room.
“Maybe there’s an activating phrase here. Whatever you call confident you—your get-out-of-my-way stance. Name it. When you have a name for it, you can quickly access it without redefining everything. You have to name your own thing—no one likes anybody else’s ideas. Have you seen Inception? The premise of that movie is that no one likes anybody else’s ideas—they only like their own. There’s a lot of truth to that. So you need to name the thing for yourself. Name the stance. What does confident Lena look like? What does that person do? How do you adopt it? That name becomes your quick reference.”
All of that is what Tim said.
Perhaps I have too many now, confidence namings. But, I have yet one more example of a confident self command. A metaphor of mine. There’s a phrase I use when I’m really, really hypomanic, when things are really bad. I have high energy and nearly no fear, lots of ideas surging through my head. I had an indicator of how bad. A phrase would slip out: “Driving fast and taking chances.” Suicide ideation was high.
In contrast, a couple times recently, in my new Escape, I remembered the phrase, but it meant something different. Especially the day after cleaning the storage locker, there was calm with silence and peace. A day of accomplishment. Driving a fast vehicle without the criticism, road rage, and backseat driving was a different kind of calm; exuberant joy, an absence of depression. The more I drove, the greater the self confidence.
I would say, “Driving fast and taking chances,” but not in an absolutely awful, reckless way. It was feeling good. So, yeah, you put the pedal down just a little bit more than normal, and the taking chances was more about not being timid to change lanes or to merge. So, again, it’s not reckless; it’s just being in control and going fast.
So today was not a “driving fast, taking chances” day, but I definitely do like the saying. Today was “driving towards a traffic light that just turned yellow.” You need to calculate fast: how far into the cycle, when will it turn red, do I stop or go? What you do—while no human is actually listening—is say it out loud to the universe: “I am going.” Then everyone, the cross traffic, the light itself, knows you called Dibs. It’s yellow. I don’t know exactly when it’s turning red, but I’m committed. I’m going. That’s the kind of day it was.
=== Every new event or activity is a chance to reinvent self. No. Rather, just about invoking the confident persona through calling up the appropriate confidence naming.
So there’s head up chest out from Kevin at the gym, all you have to do right now is count to ten from burning muscles and impossible reps, workin on it from unfocused pool laps and procrastinated tasks, push against the current from owning the resistance pool, my space I’m not moving you go around from people who don’t understand what resistance means, driving fast and taking chances from the Escape when it’s joy instead of mania, and I’m going from yellow lights that demand calling Dibs on commitment—all of them commands to myself, all of them ways to access the confident stance, the person who doesn’t yield, the version of myself who owns the room.
Tim is asking for one activating phrase that calls up the entire confident stance, whatever form the moment needs. A verbal switch that unlocks the person who owns the room, who doesn’t yield, who goes when it’s time to go. The phrase could invoke any of these depending on what’s needed—not separate commands for separate situations, but one name for the whole persona.
Admittedly, I’ve recognized situations with people where there is a stark difference between confidence and cowering. The time the pharmacist was answering a question for me, and it was taking an extra long while for her to look up the information. What I wanted to do was to be all squirmy and shift my weight and look annoyed. I forced myself to stand perfectly still. Stiller than the stillness. Once she turned away from her computer and relayed the information to me, I listened patiently and did not interrupt. After she finished, I looked her in the eye and said, “Thank you for looking that up for me,” and then I slowly turned away and walked.
Compared to two examples where an older gentleman made an attempt to engage with me, and I would not look him in the eye. One guy, without prompting, started to talk to me in an elevator. I don’t think I even answered him back. Another guy, just yesterday morning, saw me from across the parking lot, and when I finally got close enough, he greeted me cheerfully with a good morning and a smile. My shoes were untied. I had just struggled to get my backpack strap over my head, and my keys were still in my hand. The things I was carrying were nearly dropping to the ground as I rushed toward a late appointment. I mumbled something to him in response, basically blew him off, and I think he was kind of cute. In the elevator, my mind was still tangled up from what I’d discussed at my appointment, or maybe from being at the lab. The second time, I was so embarrassed by how clumsy I was and how much of a mess I was that I just wanted to sulk away.
It’s easy to look someone in the eye and seem confident when you choose to take charge. When you’re caught off guard and someone tries to engage, self-consciousness takes over instead of any form of confidence naming able to happen. Sometimes life happens so quickly, there is not time to remember your words.
These may not be the perfect universal confidence naming I’m looking for. Or that Tim was trying to describe. These are just a few that have been working so far. The two that moved from gym workout to the outside world are “head up chest out” and “working on it.” The one that naturally was created out in the wild, “I’m going.”
Which one, if any, is the universal? Still looking and deciding. Then there is learning how to recognize when you’re in need of your words.
[Abridged version sent to Tim. He never read/hear all the full back stories for the phrases. Once again, the limitation of the daily system].
