Scared Bunny

I'm scared to write.

I don't mean that in the way I have said certain stories aren't told because I am scared that the person or persons involved will unleash on me making me miserable and making this blog unreadable. The stories from my marriage aren't going to be told period, so why be scared. I don't write those stories because I don't want to. They are ours and ours alone.

But for some reason I have a problem when I even think about writing. I get scared and anxious. I hate that feeling. I have all these triggers, but to have writing, one thing I love and one thing I am good at, be one of them is making me miserable. I loved when hundreds of people read what I wrote every day. I even admit that I loved that some people would stay up and keep checking the page to see if I had written for the day yet.

I know that part of the problem is that when I write I think of her. When Scared Bunny stopped being a nightly read it was mostly because what I wanted to do was write for her. I know it seems strange, but it still seems my writing belongs to her, and I can't use it without her blessing. I don't mean her blessing telling stories. I mean her blessing to write at all. That's why I wrote those paid posts. I felt a little guilty writing them, but not near as guilty as I felt writing anything of substance.

A big part of me is trying to keep my whole life superficial right now. If I keep it shallow and I fall, the fall won't be too far. And I can't handle another fall.

Labels: fear, life, relationships, writing

You know I have to say it kind of frustrates me when people want me to date, or assume I am dating, or any of that. Dating is the furthest thing from my mind right now. I am really just focusing on work, getting healthy and my son.

Even if I wanted to date I couldn’t do it. When I think about being in a relationship it is all I can do to not have a panic attack. I don’t mean dating as a concept. I mean I can see people dating and all that. But if I think about me actually being involved with someone the physical symptoms start up. It is God’s way or my mind’s way or whatever of telling me to stay single. It’s not exactly something I am happy about, but it sure does make the decision easy.

I am not in any condition to be in a relationship. It’s kind of funny though because I am doing real well at work. I am having fun with my son. For the most part I am taking care of myself, my house and everything like that. I am even getting a decent tan. But this one area of my life is just not right, and I have to accept that.

My therapy kicks in to high gear soon. They are going to be using hypnosis to get me relaxed enough to get past my mental barriers and find out why I am like this. I am not talking the “you will quack like a duck when I say watermelon”. This is the kind of hypnosis where they are really just trying to get you to relax and focus. My doctor thinks I will be very responsive because I seem to be able to enter the state already.

The cool thing is not that I would be able to have a relationship if it works though. I know it seems strange, but that is not why I am doing it. I am really just tired of the anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach. I just want to be healthy. I really am not doing this for any other reason. And I have to say this is the first time I ever went in to therapy with a specific goal.

In the past my goals, if I had any, were vague. The first time I wanted to know why I was so angry, and they gave me an answer. Of course they didn’t do anything to make it any better. They never even really got specific with the causes. But they did a bang up job of making me angrier and meaner.

The second time I never found the right therapist. I wanted to “be healthy” but had no idea what that meant. I was always working on what was going on right that moment, even when I was doing ok with things. I needed a solution and understanding, and instead I got coping mechanisms related to things I wasn’t dealing with and advice to “get out more.

This time I know what I am trying to do, and my therapist is working with me on it. I want to first deal with anxiety, but not through just coping mechanisms but with a permanent treatment. If that means I need to revisit my past I will. If that means dealing with some ugly truths, I will. Only then can I learn why my ways of thinking are wrong and learn new better ways of seeing the world.

I think too many therapists are trying to find easier ways to deal with their patients’ issues. If the issues are minor then little coping tricks really can work. Some people just need someone to listen to them. It’s like the old ladies who get their hair done every week not because it needs done, but because they crave the physical contact.

I have a therapist who seems to like to get down in the trenches and fight the wars that need fought. I am not saying she couldn’t help a housewife who just feels unappreciated. I mean that she seems to have a mindset of finding real problems, real causes and real solutions. It makes me feel better about myself, and I see a light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s such a change, yet I still have so far to go.

Labels: anxiety, fear, life, relationships, single, therapy

I hate that this blog is getting to be so much about anxiety. It’s kind of boring to most people, and not as much fun to write about as the crazy ex stories. That said I want to write and have a few guidelines:

1- Relationship stuff is just between me and my wife. I write that for her, and not for general entertainment. Hence, it doesn’t belong here.
2- Kids and works have to be really funny to include.
3- No more talk about the exes. The past is behind me and it cannot hurt me anymore. Plus, why dwell on the many Ms. Wrongs when I have found Ms. Right?
4- No fiction

Add in the fact that true comedy pretty much always goes to “Tales off Sister Grim”, “This Is a Cult” or “Scary Personals”, and what you have left is what I am feeling at the moment I want to write. Frankly, that is often anxiety.

More accurately I am coming off an anxiety attack. It’s harder than hell to write truly anxious. But I want to get out what I was feeling. It’s selfish of me to use this space like that since most of you found the blog after searching “anal sex loving midget strippers”. If you want those stories go way back in the archives. Frankly I say start with the first post.

I had to tell my wife why I stayed in bed so long today. What it gets down to is that the safest I ever feel is curled up with her in bed. It’s not hard to get out of bed because I’m sleepy. It’s hard because that’s the best place for me to control my thoughts and relax my fears. Now, that sucks for her because, unless we have the kids, she will usually stay in bed until I get up since the clock is on my side of the bed.

It sounds pathetic for a man of my age to basically be afraid of getting out of bed, but I am. My wife asked what I am afraid of and I couldn’t really say. The best answer is everything. I am good at my job but it scares me because doing it well isn’t always easy, and success can be out of your control. I am afraid I am not a good enough husband and father. I am honestly afraid of feeling afraid. The anxiety and fear scare me. I hate that feeling. I am afraid of feeling it.

Anxiety is a self feeding animal. You get a twinge of anxiety and your body takes over. If your mind has bad thoughts, your body gets anxious. If the body is anxious and the mind has a bad thought it assumes the thought represents a risk, based on the signals of the body. Having anxiety is like always waiting to be hit. You are braced for it and expecting it. The tension builds and builds as you dwell on the fact you are going to get hit. Except the hit usually never comes.

I didn’t realize just how sheltered I was working at home all the time, but I was. Even though the work was the same as now, it was less stressful because I was in a place I knew I was safe. Nobody was in my environment I didn’t invite. And the hostility always came by phone or email, so I could just choose to ignore it. I can’t do that now. Yes I still mostly work on the phone and email, but I have so many more people involved if I ignore it I hear from someone else, so it’s even worse.

I deal with so many more people now, and I have to get used to that. And more people count on me. In the past if I was having a bad day I really could just blow it off because I was only hurting me. Now with people at home and work counting on me, I can’t do that very much. It’s hard to break a coping mechanism that worked pretty well, but I have no choice. Besides, being a hermit isn’t exactly a healthy coping mechanism.

So now I am trying to get meds adjusted, get cognitive behavioral therapy and treatment for a physical condition that may or may not be related to anxiety. I am making myself live the life I want to live even when it’s scary. I am seeing that just because we are apart doesn’t mean I need to be scared. Just because I have always been hurt doesn’t mean I always will be.

All of these things are rational reactions and beliefs. But the problem with anxiety is that it’s not rational. I have read of people who have their medication next to the bed so they can take them first thing. Their faith in the medication probably does more to eliminate the anxiety than the medication itself. But, hell, I’d try it if I didn’t think my dog would eat them or my cat think they were toys. Frankly I think I am on doses too low for my size, but I’m no doctor.

All I know is that I am going to find a way to end this so I can live the life God has for me. Despite all my mistakes, he’s put me in an amazing position right now. My main job is to not fuck it up.

Your thoughts?

Labels: anxiety, fear, life, medication, panic