Tag Archives for anxiety

Cleaning For My Cleaner

Every once in a while, I do something that makes me question how rational, maybe even how sane, I am. Friday was one of those times. On Friday morning, I had my first appointment with a new cleaning person who came highly recommended by my friend R. She works with the cleaning staff at R’s work site. A few months ago when I told him what happened with the woman I hired to clean my place and do my laundry, but who chose to take advantage of my situation instead, he put out some feelers to see if there might be someone willing to work for me on a casual basis. Lucky for me, someone on his staff responded to his request. After playing a long round of phone tag, we finally connected, and I laid out for her the kind of things I need done and the rate I’m able to pay. She accepted my offer then we agreed on a day of the week that works best for both of us.

Here’s where my insanity kicked in. Before she arrived on Friday morning, I felt panicked. My place was what I consider a disaster area. Although, to most people who come to visit me it still looks clean and organized, I can’t cope with the mess I see. I got out of bed earlier than I needed to and started cleaning up. I put away the pile of clothes that had grown on the side of my bed I don’t sleep on either because they were not put away the last time my laundry was done or because that’s where they land when I decide an item of clothing isn’t what I want to wear. I rolled up my yoga mat and put away my sneakers. I washed the pots, measuring cups, utensils, and bowls I used a couple of days before to cook asparagus and mushroom risotto, but then didn’t have the strength to clean up after eating what turned out to be a delicious meal. Then I turned my attention to the growing assortment of art supplies I have, which I packed into one of the many boxes they arrive to my home in that needed to be put out for recycling.

I know how this sounds, but I couldn’t help myself. The clean freak that’s been living in my head since I was a little girl insisted that I make a good impression on the person who was coming to clean my home for the first time. I still can’t believe I did that: I staged my home to look less messy so I wouldn’t be judged. Even pain can’t override the unachievable expectations and rules hardwired into my brain that make me behave irrationally. I’m so embarrassed that I did this I haven’t told any of my friends or family. The funny thing is that if one of them told me they did this I would laugh at them and tell them how ridiculous it is to do something like this when the purpose of paying someone to do it is so you don’t have to. DUH!

Being a perfectionist has been a significant issue throughout my life that stems from a need to control things. Even though there has been an upside to it, like having a strong work ethic and being independent, the downside is tremendous. Feeling that other people in your life can’t live up to the standards you set for yourself is one of them, especially when it’s impossible for you to meet them yourself. It also becomes a problem when, like on Friday, you hire someone to do something for you but question whether he or she will judge you because you can’t do it yourself or if they are competent enough to do what you need – she did an outstanding job by the way.

One of the things I’m learning about perfectionism is that even if you don’t ask the questions out loud, your actions ask them for you. I clearly still have a lot of work to do to overcome the need to control my environment and my image; and I must let go of this need soon because the potential downside now is the added harm to my health.

 

Enchanted – Happy Working Song

Now My Knees!

I woke up around 4:00 AM this morning because of excruciating pain in both my knees. The pain was sharp and burning. I tried bending then straightening my legs to see if the pain was brought on by the position in which I’d fallen asleep, but that wasn’t it. My knees were full with pain. I had to go to the bathroom and the walk there was unbearable. As I bent to sit on the toilet, I had to fight the urge to cry out because the pain intensified as I lowered myself to sit. While sitting on the toilet I grabbed both knees and tried to rub the pain out of them. The rubbing didn’t help.

After sitting on the toilet longer than I needed to, I gently raised myself up and pulled my pajama bottoms on. I stood looking at myself in the mirror for a moment unbelieving of the pain I was feeling. I’ve had sore knees before, but this wasn’t that. There was fire in this pain that separated it from the pain I typically feel in my legs. It almost felt like it was announcing itself. Telling me it had arrived.

I gingerly walked my way back to bed, which is currently the couch in my living room – I do that from time to time: turn my couch into my bed. I hadn’t taken a breakthrough dose of my pain medication before falling asleep, so I decided to take a half dose because I was only two hours away from starting my pain medication cycle for today. I also took a dose of my anti-anxiety medication to calm myself because in my early morning haze I couldn’t understand this pain and the intensity made my whole body tense; I couldn’t grasp what was happening to my knees.

I tried everything I could think of to make myself comfortable. I settled on elevating my legs with pillows and rubbing my slightly bent knees. I also begged for sleep, which finally came; and must have been very deep because I didn’t hear the alarm for my morning dose of medications at 6:00 AM. In a small way, I’m grateful for that because it meant I probably slept through the worst of the knee pain.

Now the pain is not as bad as it was at 4:00 AM, but my knees are still sore. I don’t understand what’s happening to my body. No matter the medical explanations or speculations, I can’t understand why I suffer with leg, back, hip, and now knee pain because of something that started in my lower abdomen. I can’t understand why, now that the mass is out of my pelvis, I’m having as much, and – as this morning demonstrates – sometimes more pain than I did before surgery. My brain has absorbed all the information thrown at me by my doctors, but emotionally, intuitively, not an ounce of this is making sense.

What the hell is going on inside my body!

 

Counting Crows – Sullivan Street

Gratitude and Creativity: Smile Every Day

Sometimes, when sleep eludes me at night, I dig through the endless pages of the interwebs trying to find things that don’t make me feel bad about not sleeping. I know I’m a grown woman who can do whatever she likes at any time of the day or night, but not sleeping often makes me feel guilt and anxiety. Writing that makes me feel a bit silly, but it’s the truth. What’s most significant about that truth, is that it’s a sad truth because I’ve had issues with sleep for as long as I can remember, so that means my body has been holding a lot of guilt and anxiety about not sleeping for a long time. Sleep is the lynchpin to good health: mental and physical, so as things go I’m not doing too well.

Sleep aside, last night I landed on a page with inspirational posters. One of them was very simple: Smile Every Day. It made perfect sense and affected me so strongly I had to create a poster of my own. At about 11:00 PM last night I grabbed my sketchbook (the one I started when I was in the hospital), a pencil, and all my coloured markers. The idea I had forced me to log on to Pinterest to find a drawing tutorial because I couldn’t figure out how to draw a mouth. Yup, I couldn’t figure out how to draw the thing I shovel food into every day and from which drool happily flows when I do finally sleep thanks to my night guard. In the end, I found an easy tutorial and I was able to draw a mouth that I think fits perfectly with the quote and my design.

Smile Every Day

This quote affected me so deeply because when I started working in sales many years ago, in the sales/customer service department of a software company; one of the things they taught us in training is that before we answer the phone we should always smile. Smiling boosts the tone in your voice and makes you sound positive when speaking to someone on the phone. Some people kept a small mirror at their desk as a reminder to put on a smile because there were days when we didn’t always feel like smiling.

Jumping to the present day, I realized when I read that poster yesterday that I haven’t been smiling every day. I’m not depressed. But my pain doesn’t’ make it easy to smile. I’m also back at home again and alone most days, which means I don’t have anyone to smile with unless someone comes to visit, or I get a phone call.

I’m glad I found that page last night. Now I have a reminder for myself to smile every day. Regardless of how much pain I might be feeling, if I’ve had very little sleep, or the sun isn’t shining; I’m going to smile every day.