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Time for Tea

This is going to shock a lot of you, given the steady flow of coffee you’ve watched me drink day after day, but try to stay calm.

I’m drinking tea, and lots of it.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:4NlR3rwvLtLcLuKZxIiYp4]

This change wasn’t planned. No doctor told me to do it or risk a heart attack. And I haven’t given up my beloved java.

In recent days, I’ve started splitting the day between coffee and tea: coffee in the morning, tea in the afternoon and evening.

For whatever reason, I really started to crave tea Saturday afternoon. It could be because my mindfulness teacher keeps telling the class to “have tea with your problems” or “tea with your dragon.” When you have an addictive personality like mine, the more someone repeats something like that, the more you start to want it. It’s why I can’t hang out with people who want to talk about nothing but boozing. Before long, I start jonesing for a bottle.

I got home that afternoon and had some green tea. Later, I had some chamomile. It felt good. I felt more at ease. A new afternoon-evening habit was born.

Those who know me well know how much I love caffeine. Coffee is the main delivery system, along with Red Bull, though I haven’t had the latter for a couple weeks now. I simply haven’t felt like having it.

There’s a stupid part of me that sometimes resists change because I’ve spent so much time building up an image. Admittedly, I like the sober, bitter-coffee-swilling hardcore image I’ve built for myself. But the smarter part of me knows that it’s always best to try new things and expand one’s horizons. That’s why I started playing guitar again after nearly 20 years. Playing is quickly becoming my main addiction and I’m fine with that, because it means I’m not burying my face behind the laptop screen as much as I used to. I discovered Saturday that tea goes really good with guitar playing.

So here I am, drinking tea and coffee. Turns out, there’s plenty of room in the day for both.

Just as long as the writer doesn’t drink all the editor’s tea. —The Editor

Green Tea

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I’m a Hot OCD Mess Today

I’m admittedly failing to control my worst OCD impulses this morning. I’m trying to assemble a slideshow for my work website and a vital application keeps crashing. It’s a busy day ahead, with blog posts to write and meetings to sit through, so this isn’t the best time for an app to fail me.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:7qSPdNGrKbaqLg6HqflCoZ]

I’ve heard it said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. So for a half hour, I kept trying to restart the work app, getting the same result each time. When I finally slammed the mouse down in anger, making the screen go black for a moment, I realized that I had let my demon get the better of me.

So instead of following my insane impulses, I’m writing this post.

I’d probably be doing better at this had I not started to lose my grip yesterday. The blinders fell over my eyes sometime during the drive home, and I spent the rest of the day operating out of sync from everything around me. I went to bed angry about it and woke up that way. It was a perfect setup for trouble.

I don’t see this as a reversal of all the progress I’ve made in managing my OCD. This morning’s scenario used happen multiple times a day. Now there are much longer spaces between the bad episodes.

But when I have a bad episode, I have to be real about it.

I’ve said it before: OCD is a two-faced bitch. Some days it gives me the boost I need to get a lot done. I came into the office this morning expecting that flavor of OCD to show up and power me through slideshow-, blogging- and newsletter-making before 10 am, when I have two meetings in a row. Instead, the wrong OCD showed up.

It happens. I’m moving on and will do the best I can with this day. Chances are that it’ll turn out to be a pretty good day.

Time to try making it happen.

Face in the Wall

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Out of My Head

Like anyone with a mental disorder like OCD, I spend a lot of time locked in my head. My thoughts will be on what I’m doing the next day or a year out. Or they’re in the past, replaying scenes from long ago. Last night I began the mission to get out of there.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:7yqO8vYeyf8ahnLj9vOZ4G]

It was the first night of my Stress Reduction and Mindfulness class. The instructor is my therapist, though the other students don’t know that. He tells me this is the first class to include one of his patients. I entered a room full of yoga mats, cushions and funny little benches that look like the kneelers they put in front of the coffin at wakes.

“Fuck,” I thought to myself. “Right out of the gate we’re doing yoga.” I’ve resisted doing yoga forever. I don’t have a good reason for that. I guess I think it will just bore me.

In the end, we used the mats for a lie-down exercise designed to make us aware of our bodies and what they’re doing and feeling. A couple people fell asleep.

We practiced eating mindfully, taking a single raisin and staring at it, rolling it in out hands and keeping it in our mouths for a while before swallowing.

We left with homework. Among other things, I have to eat an entire meal mindfully instead of scarfing it down per usual. I also have to take an activity I do almost daily and do it mindfully, taking note of every aspect of the activity as I proceed. For fun, I think I’ll try this while shaving my head.

I can stare at the razor and look at its detail, stop every time I cut myself and study the pattern of the blood dripping from my scalp before washing it off. I’ll take note of how the water feels when rinsing off the cut. I can note the difference between the feel of a clean razor and one that’s getting clogged with my stubble.

I could also practice my guitar mindfully, noting the feel of the strings and the sounds I get as I randomly launch chords from up and down the neck. I’ve already discovered that you can’t really play the guitar without being mindful of every step. I can’t, anyway.

The ultimate goal is to be able to pay attention to every detail when I’m talking to someone or doing any number of other daily tasks where my mind tends to drift.

This should be interesting.

Mindfulness

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Most Days Are Like New England Weather

Last Friday started in a brutal fashion. I woke up more than an hour late after a lousy night’s sleep. As a result, I fell way behind with work. To top it all off, the kids had the day off and were making all kinds of noise.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:5H19HygtEjZJLdGtGdpSPR]

For the first two hours of the day, my mood was bleak. My head pounded, I felt disoriented and I was convinced my day was going to suck on every level.

Two hours later, I had caught the workload up to where it was supposed to be, the kids had settled into some activity, and I was sitting on a sun-kissed deck with my beloved, drinking a fresh cup of Starbucks she bought me on the way home from a doctor’s appointment.

The rest of the day was pretty pleasant. I even found a couple of hours to practice my guitar playing, using some nifty online lessons I found on YouTube.

Which brings me to the point of this post: If you’re having a shitty morning, don’t write off the rest of the day. Most days are like New England weather: Wait five minutes and it’ll change.

I used to let a couple of bad hours destroy the entire day. Truth be told, I still do sometimes, especially in the winter, when I’m more susceptible to mood swings because of the shorter windows of sunlight.

I wasted a lot of good life that way. I went on many addiction-fueled binges because of it.

Fortunately, I’m much better at catching myself in those downward moments. Friday was a good example of that.

It makes for a much better existence.

Sunset

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The Five Colors of the Anxiety Rainbow

I broke free from fear-based anxiety a long time ago. But I still have episodes of anxiety. We all do, and it’s usually when we have trouble sorting through our emotions. To get a better handle on it, I’ve been trying to label the different kinds of anxiousness based on the colors of a rainbow.

I decided to use the first five colors of Newton’s primary color system because if I broke this down by all seven colors, I’d be stretching things. Understand that this isn’t a scientific breakdown; it’s simply how I’ve learned to process what I feel.

  • Red. This is the worst of the worst, the type of anxiety that makes you feel like you’re at death’s door. I used to suffer from this one all the time: a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead, my heart pounding so violently that I thought it would break bones, my feet tingling and a constant feeling of having to throw up. Fear is the trigger for this one, the kind of fear that made me not want to go places, take risks and live life in general. For me, Prozac has been a very effective weapon against red anxiety, as has my faith.
  • Orange. Fear plays a big role in this anxiety as well, but unlike red, orange is usually rooted in something stressful that is really happening in your life. You could be fighting a serious medical issue and worrying about losing the fight. You could be having financial trouble that results in routine stress but the anxiety magnifies it to monstrous proportions. I’ve had both varieties, with the disease taking the form of Crohn’s Disease and excrutiating back pain. Medication has helped here, too, but therapy to sort reality from a runaway imagination was key.
  • Yellow. This anxiety is usually triggered by a lot of sustained stress at work or home. Maybe your marriage has hit a rough patch or your job is riding on the success or failure of a huge project. To get through it, your body pumps more adrenaline than you need, and you get the overwhelmed feeling that keeps you from seeing the order of work items and their level of completion. The news business is a perfect place to experience this because you face daily deadlines and a tongue lashing from your bosses if a competitor gets a big story instead of you. I don’t experience that today, but when I worked for newspapers, this yellow anxiety was always with me. Remedies here include therapy, medicine, a heart-to-heart talk with the boss and, if necessary, a job or even a career change.
  • Green. This anxiety appears when the less-frequent stresses spark up. Yesterday was a perfect example in my world: I was already ramped up from spending the previous evening at the hospital holding vigil while my father faced emergency surgery that ultimately didn’t happen. The plumber was coming to install a new dishwasher, and to pound my mind into submission, I went on a chore spree. Then my cell phone died for good, and I had to spend the afternoon replacing it. The latter two events are problems we’re lucky to have, since the alternative is being too broke to afford these things. But it sent the day on a trajectory I hadn’t anticipated. The only cure for this one right now is to reach the end of the day and go to bed.
  • Blue. This is a small, sustained level of anxiety so slight that you usually don’t see it for what it is. It’s generally a byproduct of depression. In my case, blue anxiety shows itself in the winter, when a lack of daylight sends me into blue moods. Last winter I started taking Wellbutrin to help the Prozac work better when I’m in this state, and it helped. But what helps me the most is activity. Writing helps a lot and, this winter, I’m thinking the guitar my family got me for my birthday will be a lifesaver.

Whatever level of anxiety you have, none of it has to be permanent. You simply have to choose to do something about it and ask those around you to help you stick to whatever you go with. Without Erin and the kids, I’m pretty sure I’d still be hiding under a rock somewhere.

Puking Cloud