Anxiety

Hot Take: I Love Adulthood


You’ve seen them, I know you have- all the memes about how much adulthood sucks. About how much we all wish we could go back to being children who get to take naps & have our biggest worry in life be something that- as an adult- seems incredibly trivial. I’ve laughed at those memes, maybe even shared them a time or two. But I’m coming at you today with what I know is, as they’re calling them these days, a “hot take.” The truth of the matter is I love being an adult. Yes, I do- I really 100% do! Furthermore I love being in my 30s even more than I loved being in my 20s. Crazy? Maybe- but it’s true just the same.

Now I realize that this might be a controversial opinion & I absolutely do not expect most readers to agree with me. In fact I have loads of empathy for others who are perhaps less fortunate than I am. Indeed, just this morning my husband told me that I am toxically empathetic- meaning I take on other people’s emotions to such an extreme that at times it becomes a detriment to my own mental health. And he’s 100% right. It’s one of my greatest strengths but also a fatal flaw at times. I’m getting carried away, but my point is I have no trouble understanding why many- I daresay most- people DON’T love adulthood the way I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I love it.

If you’re one of those folks who doesn’t love adulthood, you might be asking yourself how I could possibly like paying bills, going to work, having a mortgage, grocery shopping, & all the other mundane & yet often incredibly stressful tasks that make up adult life. Well, the answer is this: it’s all about the freedom. As an adult I have the freedom to choose my career &, because of the career I chose, I even have the freedom to work part time & more or less choose my work hours. I have the freedom to choose what I’m buying & cooking each week- considering the amount of people in the world still facing dire poverty & even starvation, I consider that a major blessing! I have the freedom to choose where I live & where I send my child to school. The list could go on & on, but I think you get the drift.

Now many facets of my current lifestyle would not be possible without my husband- I’ll be the first to acknowledge that. But guess what- because I’m an adult I have the freedom to be with him! No one can tell me I can’t! And it’s not like I’m not also enriching his life/lifestyle. It’s definitely a two-way street, as all relationships should be.

Going hand in hand with having the freedom adulthood brings comes the knowledge that no matter how rough things get, they always get better. I still have days when my anxiety/depression &/or OCD tendencies roar their ugly head, but as an adult I now have the foresight to know that bad days are just part of life. Plus, I have better coping skills now. (Yes, one of those is Prozac but trust me, there is so much more to fighting the demons in my head than just that.) Furthermore as an adult I have a much greater capacity to understand that things that seem like a huge deal in the moment often aren’t. As a child or teen, I didn’t have that understanding- I don’t think anyone does. Our brains just aren’t wired that way. So, yes, I can look back at childhood, adolescence, or even college & think “Man, my problems then really were pretty inconsequential.” BUT- this the clincher- they didn’t feel that way at the time! They felt just as massive as any adult problem I face now, if not more so. Because my anxiety was far, far worse back then I just didn’t have the capacity to face things the way I do now. So no, I don’t want to go back- I’m far better off now.

Speaking of being better off now, that’s another reason I love adulthood. I didn’t have a terrible childhood by any means, but the fact remains that I am far happier as an adult than I ever was as a kid. I can’t claim to have been the victim of extreme bullying or anything like that, but I was definitely a strange, nerdy child who was often lonely at school. I know what it’s like to eat lunch alone, to creep around the cafeteria just hoping someone, anyone, will ask you to sit with them. And often finding no one who did. I know what it’s like to be picked last in gym class, over & over again. I know what it’s like to the butt of jokes, to be the kid who’s always out of the loop, never invited to the parties, etc. In fact, there was a three year stretch of elementary/middle school when I dearly wished my mom would homeschool me because I was so miserable thanks to certain kids at school. In the end, I’m so glad I stuck with it because things got much better in later middle school & high school, not to mention those hard years taught me some incredibly important life lessons, but the fact remains that for various reasons I am much happier now than I ever was back in my supposed “glory days.”

Road concept – freedom

See, the things that make you weird, nerdy, & boring as a child/teen often make you interesting & exciting as an adult. I’ll never be “popular” or everyone’s favorite- I’m just not that sociable at the end of the day- but starting in college & continuing into the rest of my adult life I have found time & time again that the exact things that people found bizarre about me or that made me some kind of “loser” as a child/teen now make me interesting. Am I still unusual in many ways? Absolutely! But the difference is now when people say I’m weird they usually say it in a flattering way- like perhaps they wish they had the courage to be so authentic & unique- & not so worried what about what others think.

Yes, I talked about having an incredible store of empathy a few paragraphs ago, but I’ll let you in on a little secret now: I can be petty too. As much as I aspire to want the best for everyone & to forgive anyone who’s ever wronged me, the truth is that there is a part of me that enjoys seeing certain people reap exactly what they sowed. You see, those people who made fun of me years ago, who called me weird in a very MEAN way- well, most of them are definitely NOT loving adulthood. Many of them are meth-heads or alcoholics or generally not “living their best life.” They might have been cool, popular, & generally “living it up” when we were teens, but you better believe they aren’t now. The more spiritually evolved, healed part of me wishes them the best & sincerely hopes they can turn their lives around. I really do love a good redemption story. But there is a small part of me that is still a little bitter. I absolutely do not allow childhood slights to rule my adult life- that would be pathetic- but, well, the truth is karma is a bitch & sometimes it is a joy to watch her work!

The Taylor Swift song Mean comes to mind. In the chorus of the song she says “Someday I’ll be living in a big old city, but all you’re ever gonna be is mean. Someday I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me, but all you’re ever gonna be is mean.” That song debuted in 2010 when I was in college & at the time it already felt relevant. After all, I’d escaped my hometown & was doing well in college, which is a lot more than most of those “mean” kids could say. They might have been the ones who used to talk about getting out of our hometown all the time but the vast majority of them never made it very far. But, now in my 30s- oh man, that song is even more glorious! I really am living in a big city now, not NYC or LA or anything like that. But compared to where I grew up, believe me, I am living in a METROPOLIS. And I love it!

And most of those former mean kids? Well, most of them are now just mean adults living a lifestyle that no one would envy. Meanwhile I have all the major things I’ve ever wanted in life- a great husband, a daughter, a house, two dogs, a career I love, & a handful of truly wonderful friends & family. And you know what? It feels so, so good.

So, yes, I love being an adult, despite any & all hardships it brings. Now, you may ask why I’m writing this. Am I just gloating in my own success? Well, maybe a little but I like to thing it’s more than that. I certainly don’t want to make others feel bad. But, you see, I still often find myself feeling lonely in a crowd- feeling like I’m the only person feeling a certain way. So I’m writing this to clear my own brain more than anything- BUT I’m also hoping it will find its way to one of those current weird kids who is struggling, that maybe it will offer them some hope that things CAN get better, that they aren’t doomed to always be lonely & at the bottom of the social totem pole.

The chances are slim to none that any of the former mean kids I referenced here will ever read this. But if by some great miracle you do- well, just know that I have forgiven you. I really have. But I also hope it burns you up a little to see how happy I am now. Just a little.

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The Real Problem With Aging


Evolve or die. Adapt or get left behind.

Those two lines have swirling around in my mind for months now. I haven’t been quite sure how to broach this subject properly, but I’ve unexpectedly gotten the day off of work (over-staffed instead of under-staffed for once) so I’m going to try to tackle it today. The subject? Aging. Or rather how our society handles it.

Let me preface this by saying that I may be an odd person to write this post seeing as I have been “old at heart” basically my entire life. Even as a child/teen, I was often taken for being older than I was. I was often taken for being older than my sister despite being 1.5 years younger. I also remember being a freshman in college & frequently having other students assume I was a senior. I don’t think any of that had to do with how I LOOKED- rather it was how I behaved. Furthermore, I have always been someone who would prefer a night at home reading a book over a night out “on the town” (e.g. a club, bar, or party). I have never thought this made me an old grump, just an introvert who is very happy with her own company. Neither have I ever been the type of person to really follow trends- be they fashion, music, TV, etc. If something is wildly popular at any given time, I can almost guarantee that I’m following/aware of it only marginally at best. I’ve just never been overly interested in what “everyone else” is doing- probably because early on in my life I learned that “everyone else” is often not interested in me. Or is just boring. All that to say, yes, I’m very happily “old at heart” in many ways & have been for most of my life. But that doesn’t mean I have to be old in every way. Let me explain.

Perhaps it’s because I turned 35 fairly recently, which puts me equally close to 40 as to 30. Perhaps it’s because I can’t find the energy to be bothered by that- rather I just find myself grateful to be healthy & to have already accomplished many of my life goals. (After all, as a nurse I have seen countless people younger than I am who are chronically very ill or who have even died; thus, I’m constantly reminded how good I have it.) Whatever the reason, I’ve been finding myself thinking a lot more about aging lately. And how I don’t like a lot of what I see, even from my own generation. This is probably naivete speaking, but I always thought my generation was going to be the one to not turn into grumpy adults. I thought we’d be the ones who didn’t repeat the mistakes of previous generations. Ha! Yeah, that was dumb, wasn’t it? There are some very legitimate reasons that we Millennials are often grumpy these days- our generation has not had it easy, despite what some Boomers may think. But that’s a whole other post for another day.

Having said that, I’m disappointed, y’all. I really am. I see so many posts & memes on social media these days about “the good old days” of the 90s & early 2000s, & while I can relate to some of them & certainly giggle at some of them, I’m also bothered by the fact that so many of us seem to have already put on the proverbial rose-colored glasses about our childhood/adolescence. Maybe it’s just because I was a nerd, so I didn’t always have the best/easiest childhood experience, but I for one do NOT miss any time before age 18. I just don’t. Are there THINGS about it I miss? Sure, a few- but not a lot. The point is the world was not perfect when we were growing up- it’s NEVER been perfect (& it never will be)- & there is no need to constantly romanticize the past & cover up the problems we had then. Nor it is necessary to gripe about how easy the kids have it now. They actually DON’T have it easy. No generation ever does. The easy thing to do is to be that annoying old(er) person who says “Oh man, these kids don’t know how good they have it. When I was a kid…” Have I said such things myself? Yes, a few times- but I always feel like a fool afterward. The truly mature thing to do is to acknowledge that every generation has its challenges, & there is nothing to be gained by putting down those younger than us. It doesn’t help them. It doesn’t even help us. All it does is scream insecurity with our own lives.

Now I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t have & outright refuse (at least for now) to use TikTok, Twitter, or Snapchat. Same for Alexa or any of those other personal assistant devices people use in their houses. (They are creepy as hell to me.) So maybe I am the old grump who refuses to adapt to the times! But here’s the thing- just because I’m not interested in using a new form of technology doesn’t mean I automatically think it’s garbage. I’m not running around saying “TikTok is ruining humanity!” The main reasons I don’t use these other apps is simply because I don’t need another time-suck. Instagram, Facebook, & YouTube are enough for me. And they’re probably too much as it is, if I’m being really honest. The point is just because something is new or different, I don’t immediately decry it as Satan’s latest & greatest attempt to take down humanity. The reason I don’t is because people have been saying that about EVERY new technology since the beginning of time. And it has NEVER been true. There was a time when people thought electricity was evil (technically some still do). Then it was the radio, then TV, then the internet, etc. The way I see it is technology itself is rarely, if ever, the problem. It’s what we DO with it that matters. That’s where the problems can come into play. WE are the problem, not the technology itself.

Now here’s where it gets really tricky & where I have to ask myself if I’m being a hypocrite. I’m actually a bit nervous to write this part because I’m afraid of who I might offend. But I believe in it strongly enough that I’m going to take the risk. Ok, deep breath, here we go.

I am sick of the anti-aging industry BS & how so many of us have bought into it. It seems to me many of us are more worried about LOOKING old than ACTING old. Now I’ll be the first to admit that I may be part of the problem. Why? Well, you see, I am nominally a Rodan + Fields consultant. I use R+F eye creams on a daily basis to prevent wrinkles, under-eye bags, etc. And I technically sell them. I say technically because I categorically refuse to engage in the vast majority of the tactics I’m “supposed” to do as a consultant- because it just feels wrong to me on many different levels. I have no judgement on those who do those things- especially if being a consultant is their main (or only) source of income. But for me I’m just doing this for the discount on the products I was already using. And if I can sell a little here & there & help people feel more confident in their skin, great! But that’s it.

Anyway, my real concern is with all the lip fillers, Botox, & plastic surgery I’m seeing these days. Now a lot of this is from women on Instagram whom I don’t actually know. But it bothers me just the same because these people are sending a message that this kind of behavior is normal. I’ve asked myself a thousand times why any of this stuff is different than using anti-aging face creams. Maybe it isn’t. But somehow it feels different to me. If my daughter sees me putting on a face cream, I highly doubt she thinks anything much of it. But if she were to see me going to a salon & paying money to have people inject me with chemicals that truly alter my appearance, I have to think that would send a very different message to her. A message that says “Your body isn’t good enough as it is. You need to change it.” And I for one do not EVER want to send that message to my child. Not to mention these lip injections just look ridiculous. These women are walking around looking like they got stung by a bee all the time. Every man I’ve ever spoken to about this has said the same thing- “Looks ridiculous. I hate it.” Now I’m not saying we need to constantly please men with our bodies, but at the same time I have to think that a lot of women are doing this stuff to be more attractive to men. Whether men like it or not is probably irrelevant, but I am definitely concerned about the motivations behind these behaviors because they all scream insecurity to me. The prevailing message these days is “If it makes you happier with your body, just do it!” That’s such a tempting message to give into but I do not think it’s healthy. And I’m not going to stop saying that even if it makes some people uncomfortable.

Now don’t worry, I’m not judging anyone for dying their hair to cover the greys. I’m finding more & more of those myself these days & the temptation to cover them up is definitely there. But I’m also lazy & can’t seem to find the motivation or time to worry about something so trivial. Now I’ll gladly admit that I may feel differently if I were single. But as a happily married woman whose husband couldn’t care less about it, I just can’t seem to bother at this point. As a kid, whenever my mom said she was embracing her greys, I inwardly cringed. I thought “I’ll never care so little for my appearance.” Well, guess what, guys? Now I know why she said that & I totally get it. It had nothing to do with not caring about her appearance. You see, I don’t know about y’all, but I no longer feel the need to be attractive to teenagers or people in their 20’s. What do I care if they think I look old? I AM old, at least in their eyes, by virtue of my age alone. Again, I’m self-aware enough to admit that I might feel differently if I were single at 35. But I’m not.

Now back to the first lines of this post: Evolve or die. Adapt or get left behind. As we get older, it is so easy to stop evolving, stop adapting, to just say “I’ve peaked. This is it.” But that is exactly the kind of “old” attitude we need to reject-THAT is the real problem with aging. We need to stop worrying so much about wrinkles & grey hairs & start worrying about continuing to grow as human beings. LOOKING old isn’t a problem. ACTING old- & by that I mean refusing to learn, grow, or consider the experiences/feelings of those younger/different than you- THAT is a problem. And in that way, no matter how many wrinkles or grey hairs I amass, I for one will forever seek to be YOUNG at heart.

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Stop Glorifying Mental Illness


Yes, I intentionally chose a potentially controversial title for this week’s post. This subject is something that’s been on my mind a lot lately, & there is probably no way to discuss it that won’t be controversial, so I figured why not just dive in whole-heartedly rather than tip toeing around the issue? So, with that out of the way, yes, I’m going to discuss the elephant in the room: the glorification of mental illness.

Now this post would be incomplete- & in fact quite tone deaf- if I didn’t acknowledge that we’ve come a long way when it comes to the subject of mental illness. We’re certainly handling it better than we were a couple hundred years ago when people were burned at the stake or cast out of society for even the smallest of social infractions – which may or may not have been related to mental illness. And even in the past decade we’ve made a lot of progress with the comfort level our society has in discussing mental illness. All of this is without a doubt a good thing.

The cold hard truth is that MOST people will experience some form of mental illness in their lifetime. It may not be debilitating, it may not last very long, it may not even require medical treatment. But due to break-ups, death, & other normal but extremely challenging life events, most people will experience an episode of depression or anxiety at some point in their life. Schizophrenia, bipolar, & other more long-term (& less situational) mental illnesses occur with far less frequency but are by no means uncommon. And it’s 100% a good thing for people to feel more comfortable discussing the subject of mental health. No one should be made to feel guilty, embarrassed, or “othered” for struggling with any kind of mental illness.

(Side note- with the lack of exercise, social isolation, & poor diet that so many Americans experience, it’s really no wonder our mental health is in the toilet.)

HOWEVER- I know, I know, you felt a but coming & here it is- what worries me is that instead of ACTUALLY encouraging people to seek help & work on their mental health, we seem to have gotten stuck in a cycle of glorifying mental illness. Or we act like the only help can be obtained from doctors & therapists. As I’ve discussed many times on this blog over the years, I am a big supporter of therapy & experience significant relief from my own struggles with anxiety & depression with the combination of therapy & Prozac. But that still isn’t the full picture. The truth is that therapy & Prozac are only two of the tools in my toolkit against depression & anxiety. There are a lot of others in there- like exercise (which largely consists of walks around the neighborhood), eating a relatively healthy diet, outdoor time, music, reading, writing, connecting with friends & family, etc. And for some people, these other things may be all that is needed.

The truth- at least what I’ve found to be true in my life– is that the best thing you can do for your mental health is learn to understand your own brain. This is something that therapy can teach you, of course, but I fully understand that not everyone can afford therapy or can find a therapist they really connect with. As much as I love mine, I only see her a few times a year because it’s expensive & frankly I’ve learned a lot of techniques I can use on my own anyway. The point is we need to learn to understand two basic things about ourselves: HOW do we think? And WHY do we think the way we do? For example: does your mind immediately catastrophize every situation? And if so, why? What kind of trauma in your past taught your brain that this was the logical way to think? It’s only when we are able to observe our own thought patterns & discover the reasons behind them (we may never know ALL the reasons of course), that we can begin to have power over our own mind. Once you’re able to answer these two questions, you will find that you don’t have to be a slave to your own mind. You CAN have power over it. Two great resources for this process that I highly recommend are Dr. Nicole LePera & her the.holistic.psychologist account on Instagram & the book What Happened to You? by Dr. Bruce Perry & Oprah.

The other difficult truth that we often don’t like to confront is that sometimes beating mental illness means doing things that are hard or make us uncomfortable. Just about every single person whose story I’ve read or listened to about overcoming depression/anxiety mentions exercise & spending time outdoors as major tools to fighting their demons. Do you think these people always WANT to exercise or get outside? Of course not! Our bodies, which include our minds, love to be lazy. It’s easy to be lazy! And while I absolutely believe we all need rest/recovery days, it worries me that I see so many posts & memes these days encouraging people who are depressed or anxious NOT to get out & exercise & do the hard things that will ultimately make them feel better. It’s almost like it’s become “cool” to be depressed. TRUST ME, I am guilty of this at times. I HAVE SHARED THOSE POSTS. I know that at times I have been part of the problem. While there is absolutely value in knowing that we’re not along in our struggles, I also believe that sometimes we need someone to give us a swift kick in the ass & help us get out of our funk. Sometimes we need to give ourselves that kick! At the end of the day, no one else can do the work for you. You have to be your own savior. Yes, that is daunting but it is also incredibly empowering.

If you want to listen to an excellent discussion on this subject, look no further than this fantastic podcast with my favorite YouTuber Finn McKinty & Caleb Shomo, frontman & musical mastermind of the band Beartooth (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQgfBBmqsz0). In last week’s post, I discussed Beartooth’s latest album & how it’s all about Caleb finally winning his lifelong battle with depression. That doesn’t mean that depression is 100% in his past & that he’ll never struggle with it again- of course not. For many of us, it’s a DAILY battle. But he has finally found ways to make it less of a battle. If he can do it, I think any of us can. (And yes, exercise has been a HUGE part of his success over the past year or two.) As Finn & Caleb discuss, sometimes it’s easier to stay in a dark place because even if it’s miserable, it’s comfortable- it’s the devil we know. But that’s no way to live. Anyway, Finn & Caleb do an excellent job of discussing the issues with glorifying mental illness in this podcast & I strongly encourage you to give it a listen. They’re probably way more profound that I have been.

Perhaps these lyrics from Riptide (one of my favorites on the album- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zv3t0Fvgvik) sum it up best:

I’m done explaining my pain, this is way too much
I wanna feel euphoria, give me the rush
‘Cause it’s the last time that I romanticize
The riptide that’s trying to drown me
Full of excuses for way too long
Don’t wanna sing another hopeless song
‘Cause it’s the last time that I romanticize
The riptide, it’s a riptide

Don’t wanna die, I guess I gotta let it go
Don’t wanna die, I guess I gotta let it go

Again, this post is in no way intended to make anyone feel guilty or stupid for struggling with any mental illness. None of us gets to choose the brain we’re born with & the thought patterns we are prone to. But the vast majority of us CAN have far more control over our own brains than we tend to think. We just have to learn to understand ourselves. Once we do that, anything & everything else will be possible. It may still be a daily battle- & we may not win it every single day- but it CAN get better.

Side note- one of the best side effects of learning to understand ourselves is that it naturally helps us to better understand others- which leads to us being more compassionate & understanding & thus better able to serve others. But that’s a post for another day.

P.S. Just because you find ways to better manage your anxiety or depression, does NOT mean you have to become one of those annoying toxic positivity people. Absolutely not. Toxic positivity is actually mentally just as unhealthy as anxiety or depression because it doesn’t allow you to experience the full range of emotions that we are SUPPOSED to experience. But again that’s a post for another day.

Now- do I really want to go exercise right now? Absolutely not. But am I going to do it anyway? You better believe it!

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I’m Weird & I Love It


“I’m weird & I love it.” Now sing that to the tune of LMFAO’s Sexy & I Know It which was all the rage back in 2011. It works, right? Right. Ok, onto more serious stuff…

If you know me, you know I love rock music. Well, a week ago today a band called Beartooth released their latest album The Surface. One of the more recent singles off the album is entitled Might Love Myself (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=83rcK9Xne5A) & it perfectly encapsulates the positive self-love anthem of the record. If you know anything about Beartooth, you know this is a MASSIVE change for them. Frontman & primary songwriter Caleb Shomo has been very open about the severe depression he has struggled with from his teens on through his entire adulthood. In fact it has been the primary theme of most of the band’s music. But over the past two years he has finally found his way out of the darkness of self-loathing & learned to love himself. I for one have thoroughly enjoyed watching Caleb’s transformation into a happier, healthier human being- it’s so inspiring! The music on this album is every bit as heavy as before, but there is now a clarity & soul in Caleb’s voice that shines through in an undeniable way- & that alone is enough to make this their best album to date.

Anyway, the reason this is relevant is that today’s post is all about embracing the fact that I am in fact a bit weird- but I LOVE that about myself! Now, I have never struggled with the kind of self-loathing that Caleb has (or that my husband has), but I have definitely struggled with various forms of anxiety, depression, & OCD tendencies for most of my life. I wasn’t always AWARE of it, especially in my younger years, but the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve realized that my brain really is a bit different than most. For better or worse, I am definitely prone to a melancholy personality- which is not to say that I’m sad all the time. Not at all. It’s more that I’m overly serious & struggle to truly relax (my husband is the same way). Moreover, it’s been a major theme of my life that I frequently find myself feeling like a bit of a loner. Again, not necessarily that I don’t have friends or everyone hates me, just that I often feel like I’m the only person in any given group who doesn’t feel like or agree with everyone else. To put it simply, it’s been a common refrain in my life for people to tell me I’m a little weird or different or not like they expected me to be (for whatever reason).

Now as a child/teen, as you can imagine, hearing this kind of feedback (whether directly or indirectly), wasn’t always encouraging. Sometimes it felt like a punch in the face. After all, there is nothing kids/teens want more than to “fit in,” to be accepted, to NOT stand out too much (at least not in a negative way). But I learned at a very young age that I was never going to be able to be “cool,” that no matter how hard I tried I would always be too nerdy or too smart or too quiet or I wore the wrong clothes or whatever. I would always be just a bit outside of the “cool” realm. Naturally I ended up finding acceptance with the other nerdy types which was more than good enough for me. Now, as an adult, I’ve come to really enjoy when people tell me I’m weird or that my tastes are nerdy or that I’m just not what they expected. Because nowadays such things are usually said in a more positive manner. They’re usually said with an undertone of “Wow, you’re interesting!” rather than “What’s wrong with you?” Even if this kind of feedback occasionally is a bit more negative, as an adult, I just don’t care. While I still sometimes find myself wishing there were more people in the world like me, just so I’d feel less “different” at times, in the end I realize that it’s my uniqueness that makes me who I am. And I LIKE who I am.

As stated previously, I’ve never struggled with true self-loathing, but nowadays I am a lot more positive about myself than I was years ago. And the best side effect of that is that I am SLOWLY learning to be less of a people-pleaser. I have learned that some people cannot BE pleased anyway (because they will always find something to complain about). Moreover, being a confident person who stands up for her beliefs is enough to turn some people off – because they like living in their echo chambers & don’t like anyone contradicting them or encouraging them to think outside their own little boxes. The point is I am finally learning to be ok with sometimes being disliked. I don’t think I will ever completely rid myself of the desire to be liked but I have learned that what my mom said years ago is true: It’s better to be respected than to be liked. Respect is worth a lot more, in the end.

Having said all that, I thought it would be fun to create a list of things that make me weird, unusual, or whatever adjective you want to use to indicate being a bit outside of the norm.

  • Thanks to my OCD tendencies, I never let me email inbox get cluttered. Furthermore, I never leave text messages unread for more than a few hours, & I almost always respond in a timely manner. It feels like I’m leaving something undone if I don’t, & I hate that feeling.
  • I keep any cash I have in order in my wallet- in other words, larger bills at the bottom, smaller bills on top, all facing the same direction. If they’re not like that, it creates a level of anxiety that is disproportionate to the “crime.”
  • I still sleep with stuffed animals. No, my husband doesn’t mind. He wouldn’t be my husband if he minded. Furthermore, I still collect stuffed animals. I even bought a small stuffed Covid virus back during the pandemic. And somewhere or other I still have a stuffed herpes virus & a stuffed neuron (brain cell) I got in college. Not kidding. As someone told me just yesterday “That is some real nerd stuff.”
  • My husband & I don’t wear our wedding rings. We’ve been married for 12 years & he has never worn his regularly, & I haven’t worn mine regularly past maybe the first year. I couldn’t tell you the last time I wore them. It’s been years for sure. This is one that REALLY bothers some people, which I find strange because if it doesn’t bother us (& obviously it doesn’t), why should anyone else care?
  • Again, my husband & I have been married for 12 years but we have never had a joint bank account or credit card. We split the bills, with him paying a bit more than I do since he makes more money than I do, & we pay for our own “miscellaneous” expenses which works out great because neither of us can whine about the other spending money on something we don’t value. Someone once told me this was “un-biblical.” While I know the person meant well, I wish I’d had the presence of mind to respond that banks didn’t really EXIST in biblical times, which made the comment quite irrelevant. (Insert eye roll here.)
  • Despite my predilection for rock/metal, I don’t have any tattoos. I have no problem with tattoos- I quite like them as a general concept- but I have never had any particular desire to have any myself. Neither do I have any piercings aside from basic earrings. Nor do I wear black all the time. In fact, aside from band T shirts that are of course disproportionately black, I rarely wear black at all, unless you count black yoga/athletic pants.
  • I didn’t love the baby stage, especially the newborn stage. I struggled with PPD which of course colored things a lot for me, but even so, I’ve just never been someone who really loves babies. I do not miss my child being younger. I never get sad when I think about her needing me less as she grows up. Quite the opposite- I’m usually cheering. “You want to take a shower by yourself now instead of me helping you with a bath? Fantastic!” Of course I have good memories & fleeting moments of nostalgia, but trust me when I say they’re fleeting.
  • On a similar token, I don’t dread the teenage years. I LIKE older kids & teenagers. You can have so much more interesting conversations with them. They really have their own personalities & likes/dislikes by then. They are – in my opinion anyway- so much more rational. Yes, I know, I am crazy. You won’t find my volunteering much at my daughter’s school nowadays but in a few years, I’ll probably be happy to do anything I can.
  • Aside from a little football here & there, I genuinely don’t watch TV anymore (& never have much), not even Netflix. I just prefer to read. I’ve always got so many books that I want to read that I just can’t find time for television. And I truly don’t feel like I’m missing anything of value to me. Does this mean I’m left out of conversations at work sometimes or that I am oblivious to certain TV/movie references people make in general conversation? Yes. But does it bother me these days? Absolutely not.
  • I actually like cold weather. It’s the heat that I find suffocating, depressing, & soul sucking. But when I feel a chill in the air, my spirit soars.
  • I actually ENJOY going places alone- whether it’s a restaurant, a movie (not that I’ve been to a movie theater in almost a decade, but I did used to enjoy going to matinees alone on occasion), or a concert. Being alone in a crowd doesn’t bother me. I love to people watch. I love my own company. If that makes me weird- well, as far as I can tell, I got the trump card.

I could go on & on, but if you’ve read this far I think you get the point. Some days are still a struggle, some days I still feel like maybe I wasn’t made quite “right,” like there’s something “wrong” with me. But in general I’m in a better place now than ever. Coming back to Might Love Myself by Beartooth- as the song states “I’m exactly who I want to be.”

My challenge to you is to find whatever makes you weird or different & celebrate it. And if you can’t find anything, that’s ok too. Regardless, the more you love yourself- which sometimes requires actively changing your behavior if you find things that need work- the better your life will be & the more you’ll be able to truly love others, even those who are very different from you.

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Prozac Makes Me a Better Person


I had a whole other blog post typed up & ready to go, just a few minor edits needed, but I decided it was going to have to wait because this is more important. As some of you know, I started this blog almost a decade ago largely as a way to manage my own anxiety & also just because I’ve always loved writing. Writing has been a therapeutic exercise for me for almost as long as I can remember. Anyway, maybe a year or two after I started the blog, I ended up starting medication for my anxiety. I had tried therapy, music, writing, exercise, etc, but I had just gotten to the point that I knew I needed more. My therapist at the time was the one who encouraged me to start medication because she realized that I had exhausted my other resources. It was very difficult for me to admit that I needed medical help for something as “silly” as anxiety, but once I started Prozac I found myself asking “Why the hell didn’t I try this sooner?” I’ve remained on Prozac (actually the generic form fluoxetine, but I’ll just refer it to as Prozac here for simplicity’s sake) for the majority of the past eight years or so. I’ve been able to get off of it for a few months here & there, but I always come back to it sooner or later. It’s always a very low dose & it’s entirely possible that the positive effects I see from it are all a placebo effect, but at this point I don’t care. Results are results, right?

To be clear, I am not necessarily your “typical” anxious person. My anxiety is not the stereotypical kind where you sit around imagining horrible scenarios like car crashes or cancer or things like that. Interestingly, I am in many ways NOT a “worry wart.” For example, when I got married, multiple people told me “You are the most chill bride I’ve ever met!” Furthermore, public speaking has never much bothered me, which is odd for an anxious person, nor have I ever had real testing anxiety. My anxiety, as I’ve written about before, manifests in different ways. It’s more of a heightened sense of awareness, a tendency toward OCD behaviors (or at least OCD thinking), a brain that just NEVER SHUTS UP (people have often told me I think too much- but I don’t know how not to!), a tendency to go “from zero to 60” in just a few seconds. By the latter I mean that when something goes wrong, I often get stuck in a flight/freeze response, rather than being able to actually address the situation productively. Honestly, I struggle to really explain my issues, but an incident happened last night that may serve as a good example. My daughter got her ears pierced this past weekend. As I was putting her to bed last night, I realized that one of the earrings had fallen out. I immediately freaked out. I went running to my husband more or less screaming “She’s lost an earring! I have no idea where it is! We’re going to have to have it redone! This was expensive! HELP ME!”

Now my husband & I have been together for our entire adult lives so he knows me VERY well, but even he was a bit surprised by my outburst. He basically had to tell me to sit down & be quiet while he took care of the situation. He found the missing earring in the bathtub & was able to reinsert it in our daughter’s ear while I sat in the living room more or less hyperventilating & borderline sobbing. Needless to say, I was very grateful to him for handling the situation like he did, & furthermore I apologized to our daughter this morning for my behavior. But that situation made me realize that stopping my Prozac a few weeks ago was probably a crappy idea. I actually hadn’t told my husband I’d stopped it because I wanted him to be as impartial/objective as possible. After we got her to bed, I told him I’d stopped the medication & asked him to be brutally honest with me: Had he noticed a difference in my overall behavior the past few weeks? Did I seem more anxious or irritable or generally “off”? It came as no surprise to me when he said yes because I am self-aware enough to know that I HAVE been more anxious & irritable since stopping the medication- even something as “simple” as the dogs barking has been setting off my anxiety lately. So, needless to say, I restarted the Prozac.

The truth is that even after all these years I still hate being “dependent” on a medication to manage my own brain, but, damn it, it’s also true that Prozac makes me a better mom/wife/person. The problem is that I am really good at managing my anxiety when I’m at work, even without medication, but then I come home & all that pent up anxiety gets let out on my husband & child. And that isn’t fair to them- or really even to me. That’s just the way it is. And it’s not like Prozac is some “miracle pill” that suddenly makes me happy & carefree all the time. It’s definitely not. But it’s still pretty damn good. If I envision my brain as a roiling ocean, Prozac has the effect of changing those roiling, crashing waves into more of a gentle, bobbing current. Instead of the Atlantic Ocean, it’s more like the gentle waves you get at the Gulf of Mexico or Lake Michigan. That probably isn’t the best metaphor but hopefully you get the point.

Having said all of that, one of my greatest gripes with modern society is that we tend to want an easy solution to everything. Whether it’s obesity, high BP, diabetes, anxiety, depression, or any other number of issues, so much of the time we just want to pop a pill & hope it cures us. And frankly that just isn’t realistic. One of my biggest complaints about healthcare is that too many doctors don’t provide truly holistic care & too many patients frankly don’t want it. So often we all just want the easy way out! HOWEVER, what I’ve realized over & over again is that Prozac calms me down just enough that I can actually focus more on my other coping strategies– whether that be writing, music, or doing the really difficult work of analyzing my own life experiences & trying to figure WHY my brain works like it does, what my triggers are, & how to overcome those triggers when they happen- because inevitably they will. But all of that stuff is really hard, & frankly many people never do that kind of inner work ever, so if taking a low dose of a medication makes it easier for me to actually do those things & work on myself as a human being- well, maybe that isn’t such a terrible thing, right?

One of the things I learned in therapy is that sometimes we just have to accept that certain things are out of our control. I keep coming back to an old(er) Five Finger Death Punch song called Will the Sun Ever Rise (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JUWHQGXELGo). It’s all about Ivan’s struggles with his own mental health issues & alcoholism. Anyway, there’s a line that says “Why am I like that? I’m trying to understand myself, Trying to fight through this hell.” That line of “Why am I like that?” runs through my mind a lot. And I do think it’s worth unpacking my past to try to understand WHY my brain functions the way it does, as mentioned above, but I also think sometimes I just have to accept that my brain is the way it is, & that’s not necessarily a good thing or a bad thing. It just IS. The good news is my OCD tendencies & general hyper-alertness/awareness make me a really good nurse. The bad news is too often I drive myself crazy & I can’t relax. Therefore the secret seems to be in finding the balance. And Prozac helps me do that. Maybe someday I will get to the point where I can manage my anxiety without it. But for right now, I think it’s just another tool in my “anti-anxiety shed,” & if it helps me use the other tools in that shed a bit better- well, why the hell not use it?

Lastly- & this is a whole other blog post right here- but I continually have to remind myself that our brains were not meant to handle even HALF of what we have to handle as modern human beings. For most of human history people had no clue what was happening 100 miles from their house, much less what was going on quite literally on the other side of the world. Our brains simply have not evolved fast enough to be able to absorb all of the information we are constantly inundated with these days. Do you think the average parent for most of human history was constantly besought with thoughts of “Am I making healthy enough meals? Are the chemicals in this food going to give my child cancer someday? Is my kid getting too much screen time? Am I doing enough to help the environment? Am I saving enough money for my child’s college fund? Am I being actively anti-racist?” And the list goes on & on. I am not saying any of these concerns are illegitimate or should be ignored. Not at all. But the fact remains that parents, & just humans in general, are processing more information than we ever have at any point in history & are being asked to think more long-term/big picture than ever before. At the same time many people are isolated & have less real human connection than ever before, especially with Covid the past two years. Is it any wonder so many of us struggle with anxiety &/or depression? No, it’s not- not at all. Because our brains simply haven’t had time to evolve to handle all of this!

Just to be clear, this post is not an endorsement of Prozac. I am in no way saying it’s a magic pill or that it’s the solution for everyone. Or even that medication in general is the solution for everyone. All I can say is that it works for me- but again, in combination with other strategies- not as a panacea or as an excuse not to do the inner work I still need to do. But I figure there is probably someone out there who needs to hear someone else say that it’s ok to take medication if you need to. It doesn’t make you weak. One of the greatest strengths we can have is knowing our own limitations & using whatever tools we can find to address them. And for me, at least for now, that means taking my Prozac, whether I like the fact that I need it or not, because it’s important that I be the best version of me for myself, my husband, & our daughter. And if that best version is obtained partly through Prozac- well- so be it.

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My Anxiety/OCD Triggers


If you’ve been following this blog for a while or if you know me in real life, then you know that anxiety with obsessive compulsive tendencies is something I have struggled with for a long time- basically my whole life. I say obsessive compulsive tendencies because, thankfully, I don’t have full-blown OCD, but I DO exhibit some obsessive compulsive tendencies in my thinking & thus in my behavior. I had an experience this morning that made me think that a useful exercise might be writing out some of my current anxiety triggers. Not only might this be therapeutic for me but it’s very possible that others could relate- even if not to these exact scenarios.

Because I value transparency, let me say that I have been taking a low dose of generic Prozac for my anxiety for probably six or seven years now. I managed to go off of it for about 6 months in late 2019 & early 2020 but once Covid hit, I realized I needed to go back on it to manage all the extra stress & general madness of living through a worldwide pandemic. It took me a long time to admit to myself that needing medication to assist with my anxiety management was not a weakness any more than needing medication for high blood pressure or lupus or any other medical condition. Of course I always believed that for everyone ELSE- but getting myself to believe it for ME? That was a whole other story- being the perfectionist that I am. In any case, I have gotten MUCH better at managing my anxiety over the years, not just thanks to medication, though I do think that has been very useful with taking some of the “edge off” so that I can actually focus on other non-medication based strategies with a clearer brain. But it’s definitely still a daily struggle with some days being better than others.

Anyway, this post is not strictly meant to be humorous but at the same time I’ll confess that one of my best coping mechanisms has been learning to laugh at myself. Not in a condescending “I’m so stupid” way. But rather in a “Ok, self, this is a bit silly. You’ve handled this kind of thing before. There is no logical reason to be this upset about this now. You’ve got this. Take a deep breath & don’t take everything so seriously” way. If that makes any sense. So, on that note, feel free to laugh along with me if you find some of these things a bit comical. I won’t judge you or hold it against you in any way.

I struggle with anxiety, but I’ve found that this blog is a great way to tame the “anxiety monster.”
  • Having someone behind me in line while pumping gas. This happened to me at Sheetz this morning. A man pulled up behind me in a pick-up truck as I was just getting out of my car. There was absolutely nothing overtly threatening about this man, but my immediate thoughts were “Oh gosh, I’ve parked a bit too close to the pump. This dude is probably laughing about how ridiculous I look now, trying to get out of my car. He’s probably going to judge every move I make while pumping this silly gas.” Once I got the gas pumping, I stopped that train of thought & told myself “This is ridiculous. Even if he does laugh at you, so what? You have no idea who he is, he has no idea who you are, you’ll never see each other again. What does it MATTER?” After that, I was able to calm down & laugh at myself & move on without further anxiety over the matter. This is what I mean by learning to laugh at myself.
  • Having my money in order in my wallet. This one is a remnant from being a waitress back in college. That’s been almost 15 years ago but I STILL feel a very urgent compulsion to have my bills in order. What I mean by this is the largest bills have to be on the bottom of the stack & they all have to be facing the same direction (i.e. none upside down or backwards). So on the rare occasions I pay with cash somewhere & the cashier gives me change, I inevitably end up cringing inwardly when the person hands me a bunch of bills all out of order. Because, you see, I then have to correct them before putting them in my wallet- but if there are people behind me in line I HATE holding them up to do this… And yet I also hate putting the bills in my wallet all out of order. It’s a real conundrum, I tell ya! And yes, I am laughing at myself as I type this because I fully realize how ridiculous this must sound to the average person.
  • Having my documentation in order as a nurse. Y’all, this is one reason I do not miss inpatient nursing. Because anyone who has worked inpatient nursing knows that documentation is wildly important & also wildly difficult to get done in a timely manner. I am one of those weird nurses who actually enjoys documentation, perhaps because I am acutely aware of how truly important it can be, but also perhaps because I enjoy writing. In any case, it can cause me tremendous anxiety if I get too far behind on my charting. I HATE that feeling of knowing I’ve done something but it hasn’t yet been documented. I guess it was drilled into my head enough times that “If it’s not documented, then it wasn’t done” that until something is documented, I don’t feel like my task is truly complete. This is one reason I’ve been reluctant to go back to school to become an NP, which was my original career goal, because providers of all disciplines (i.e. doctors, NPs, PAs) all struggle so much with timely documentation. I just know I would be the kind of provider who couldn’t relax after work until all my notes were done, & I also know that it’s very rare that one can finish them all on the same day…. Soooooo… Yeah, I’d probably just be permanently anxious as hell! Just another reason why I’m pretty content to be “just a nurse” for now.
  • Too much noise. Y’all, this is one reason motherhood is hard for me. Between Rachel hollering constant questions & the dogs barking, I’m pretty sure I’ll be deaf in the not so distant future. I don’t think I realized it at the time but this is another thing I don’t miss about inpatient nursing- all the constant alarms dinging!
  • Social events that feel forced. I’ve talked about this before but work parties or parties where I only know one or two people are anathema for me. Just look up the song We Don’t Have to Dance by Andy Black. It’s an anthem for every introvert with social anxiety. I’m great at one on one or very small group discussions. But networking type events where you have to talk to a bunch of people, usually only for a few minutes & about mundane topics that feel forced? Ugh. The WORST! Thank goodness I’m in a career field where such things aren’t really an issue.
http://www.themiraclejournal.com/2012/06/03/the-reunion-vs-social-anxiety/
  • Having unread texts, messages, or emails. Ohhh man, what I wouldn’t give to be a type B person who doesn’t care that their inbox is overloaded! But it’s just not in my nature to ever be that way. Nope, I have to read everything quickly & usually feel compelled to respond quickly too. Otherwise I end up with that “unfinished business” feeling that I mentioned earlier with documentation at work. This is one of many reasons I refuse to get any new social media accounts such as Twitter, Snapchat, or Tik Tok. Not only do not I find those apps of any particular interest but I also don’t need any more notifications pouring in to my phone. No thanks.

If you don’t struggle with anxiety &/or if you aren’t plagued by obsessive compulsive tendencies, this post may have read like a real laugh riot. Or you may be tempted to say that I’m clearly crazy & in need of serious help. While that may be a fair assessment, remember that my anxious, obsessive compulsive tendencies also make me a fantastic nurse. You better believe I monitor my patients’ vital signs & labs like a hawk. You better believe I obsess over dating my PICC line/IV dressings. You better believe I notify providers of even subtle changes that I know might be important. You get the drift.

Outside of nursing, I like to think some of these tendencies are useful as well- as a wife, mom, & friend, etc. We all face challenges in life, & I think, as with anything, there are pros & cons to this type of mindset. The key- at least for me- is being cognizant of my triggers so that I can better manage them when they happen. Trust me when I say that’s a work in progress!

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An Addled Mother’s Thoughts on PPD


Have you ever wished to have a different brain than your own? I definitely have. And I still do sometimes, especially as a mom. Everywhere I look I see friends, coworkers, former classmates, former coworkers, family members, & general acquaintances having their second, third, or even fourth kids. And here I am with a daughter who’s soon to be five still feeling like “Nope, I’m not ready to do that again.” When I say “that” I mean everything involved with having another baby but specifically the newborn & baby stage. As some of you may know, that was a very difficult & trying time for me. It’s really only been in the past year or so that I’ve come to fully appreciate just how bad my post partum depression really was. No, I wasn’t suicidal or psychotic, but I was far further down the rabbit hole of despair than I realized at the time. And the frustrating thing is I did so many of the “right” things that you’re supposed to do to help with PPD: I took medication (a slightly different version of what I took for anxiety prior to giving birth or even being pregnant), I went to therapy, I occasionally went to a new mom’s support group, I worked part time, I vented to friends & family. And yet I still struggled, far more than I ever let on.

The truth is part of me is angry because I feel like PPD stole things from me. I feel like I lost precious moments that I can’t get back. I also feel so guilty for complaining because I know many women have had far worse situations- but I also feel like I’ll never get past this fear if I don’t air it…. So, on that note, here we go…

  • Postpartum or postnatal depression. Vector tired woman and newborn illustration

Because of my pre-existing anxiety I was high risk for PPD anyway. Then throw in a jaundiced baby who had to be readmitted to the hospital after just one night at home- a miserable night that left me in tears too many times to count- & I think it was just too much for me. I know social media is always a highlight reel & most people don’t share the hard stuff, but every time I see people so excited about going home with their new babies & enjoying those early days at home, I must confess I feel a pang of jealousy. Again I know so many women who’ve endured far worse, but I just didn’t get a peaceful newborn period. Physically I recovered phenomenally well- I can’t complain there- but mentally was a whole other story.

Our first night at home I spent in anguish because I knew my baby was sick & nothing I was doing was helping. I felt helpless, terrified, & lonely. It’s not like my husband could breastfeed, you know! When we went to the pediatrician the next day, the doctor graciously helped me with breastfeeding & even taught me how to use my pump. But because it was a Saturday they couldn’t do labs there, so we had to then cart her 20 minutes across town to a hospital to get her labs checked. No sooner than we got home from that did we get a call from the doctor telling us she needed to be admitted for bili-light therapy. That required packing up & driving another 20 or 30 minutes all the way across the city to yet another hospital. So those first few weeks I spent pumping & recording the baby’s intake & output like a mad woman, meanwhile also struggling to breastfeed- which was FAR harder than I’d imagined, even though I’d taken classes & read up on it- & generally feeling like I was losing my mind. Over the weeks that turned into months, things slowly got better. We found a rhythm with breastfeeding. We finally got some decent sleep. We bonded more & more & things slowly began to feel more manageable. I slowly began feeling like less of a zombie & more of a proper human being again. But I’ve never forgotten those long nights & those incredibly dark moments of despair. And I truly think that the only real “answer” for my PPD was time- which makes the idea of potentially facing it again quite intimidating.

I’ve realized over the years that my experience is actually quite common. Yet what is less common is women being truly honest about it. There are so many legitimate reasons why we aren’t, but in the big picture staying quiet about our pain only hurts ourselves & each other. I’m writing all this to try to come to terms with my own experience in the hopes that maybe someday I’ll be brave enough to try again. I’m very encouraged by some friends who have told me that they actually fared far better with their second babies. But right now I’m still scared. I know this time I’ll have the advantage of experience, the advantage of knowing that what I thought was going to kill me didn’t- so if I can survive it once, feeling like that & having NO experience, I can definitely survive it again. Even so, with the state of the world today, it’s hard to be a parent of even one kid, much less more than one. Not that it’s ever been easy, but Covid has without doubt made parenthood FAR more complicated.

I’m also writing this in hopes that if another mom is reading this & struggling with PPD she will know she’s not alone. I’m here to say that if you don’t like the newborn or baby stage too much- because of PPD or other reasons- it’s ok. It does NOT make you a bad mom. If you have moments- maybe more than you’d care to admit- when you regret your choice to be a mom or fear you’ve made a mistake, it’s ok. You will survive, things will get better, & you are not alone. If you want to roll your eyes every time someone says “Oh, I’m so sad my baby is growing up” or “She’s getting too big, I’m not ready,” it’s ok. You can roll your eyes right along with me & silently (or not so silently) cheer every time your baby becomes more independent & learns something new. It’s ok! Some moms love the newborn, baby, & toddler stages. Some don’t. Either way is ok. We all have our own experiences & they are all valid.

Also it occurred to me last night that the fact that my kids will be at minimum 6 years apart in age- IF I ever have a second one, that is- really shouldn’t surprise me. It’s far more common to have kids 1.5-4 years apart but since when have I done things the “normal” way? I got married young (at 22) which was not unusual for my upbringing but IS unusual in the greater scheme of things these days. Furthermore I married my high school sweetheart which, while “traditional,” isn’t exactly the normal thing to do anymore. I left my hometown & never moved back which certainly isn’t unheard of but also isn’t the norm for most people from that area. I could go on & on but in many ways in life I have not done what “most” people have done, though I’ll be the first to admit I know folks who have strayed far further from the “normal” path than I have. But the point is it probably shouldn’t surprise me that I’m choosing to approach motherhood a bit differently than many others. I must also take the time to note that because we got married young I have the advantage of not HAVING to rush into motherhood because my biological clock isn’t ticking but so loudly (yet). I realize not everyone has that advantage & I am grateful that I do.

So will I ever have another kid? I have no idea at this point. Part of me feels like I just can’t go through all of that again. But part of me also feels like I’d really like another shot at it, that I’d really like to give my daughter a sibling & all the experiences that come with that, that I’d really like another baby to love & teach. But the truth is I’m just not sure I’m up to the challenge. This has been weighing heavily on my mind this year & frankly if it weren’t for Covid, I’d probably have been ready by now. But Covid makes parenting SO much harder & there is absolutely nothing I can do about that. Part of me wants to wait until the dust settles a bit more, but I also fear that may never happen & I’ll be left regretting my indecision someday.

So yes, right now I wish I had a different brain. I wish I didn’t feel the need to plan things so much. I wish I could just go off birth control casually & “see what happens,” like so many women seem to do. I wish I didn’t CARE so much about doing everything right & could just throw caution to the wind & say “Oh well, I’ll figure it out when it happens.” But my mind doesn’t work that way, it just doesn’t. And that’s all there is to it.

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The Perfectionist Conundrum


How do you define yourself? What are the main characteristics that encompass who you are? Is it a strong work ethic or athletic, musical, or artistic talent? Perhaps generosity or courage or fortitude? For me it’s always been my intelligence & my kindness. Throughout my whole life the main feedback I’ve ever received from the world, be it teachers, family, friends, coworkers, or managers- whether said feedback was solicited or not- has always been, “Oh, Rebekah? She’s so nice. And very smart.” Or something very similar to that. Now there’s nothing wrong with that & I’m certainly not complaining. Whether intentionally or not, these are the ways I’ve defined myself too. But I’ll confess I’m having a bit of an identity crisis right now, precipitated at least partly by two events that have occurred in the past 24 hours.

First, when I was coming home from work yesterday I stopped to get gas. As I was finishing up at the pump, a man approached me with a sob story about how he & his pregnant wife needed money to fix their car to so they could get back home to Charlotte. I was suspicious of his story, partly because I’ve heard this same story from other people quite often in my life, but being the nice person I am, I couldn’t say no seeing as I DID actually have cash with me & I COULD actually afford to part with some of it. I ended up giving him most of the cash I had because he was so persistent. He didn’t even say thank you, just moved on to the next pump saying “I need 7 more dollars, 7 more dollars.” I left feeling a bit used, I’m not going to lie. And yet, I don’t think I could have lived with myself if I’d either lied & said I had no cash or just refused to give him any. I know this is a very complex issue & in many cases I have given homeless people food or water rather than cash, but on the chance that this man’s story WAS true, food or water wasn’t going to fix the problem, so that wasn’t really an option here. Even if he was in fact lying, I can’t help but feel that he must have had SOME kind of need or he wouldn’t have been begging from strangers.

I am always happy to help when I can, so in the end I don’t regret giving him the money- I really don’t- but I DO have to wonder if I have some kind of sign on my forehead that unbeknownst to me proclaims “CAN’T SAY NO- WAY TOO NICE!” And if so, how the hell do I go about removing that “sign” without actually becoming a cold-hearted mean person? After all, I have long since learned how to draw boundaries at work & in my personal life so that I’m not constantly being taken advantage of there. In reality, that would be a much bigger problem. Even so, in situations like this where I don’t actually feel threatened but do feel a bit pressured, I can’t seem to find the guts to say no. Hell, once I had a man approach me at a gas station saying something creepy along the lines of “Hey, if your husband doesn’t appreciate you, I can” all while leering at me lecherously. As angry I was, I was so shocked that all I said was “Have a nice day.” In my head, once I drove away, I was saying much worse, believe me, but in the moment I was so flabbergasted that I couldn’t formulate a better response. What I suspect is that I’m giving off some kind of vibe where these types of men somehow KNOW that & that’s why they approach me in the first place. Actually, I shouldn’t say men because these things have happened with women too. And I find it even harder to say no to them!

Now obviously if I saw the same person every day telling this same story (or a very similar one), naturally I would not continue giving them money. I am not Jeff Bezos or Oprah here, after all! I cannot fund every crisis I encounter. It’s just hard to be a kind person in an often cruel world, so often wondering if you’re being taken advantage of & yet unable to live with yourself if you say no to someone who may in fact be in real need…

As a side note, these are the stories I always want to scream at people who tell me that I’m such a terrible, uncaring person because I’m not a socialist or communist (as if the only way to have compassion is through the government- please, give me a break!) I always want to scream “You don’t know anything about me. You have no idea how many times I have given my time & money to help both friends & strangers in need.” But usually I just clam up & let them rant because it rarely feels worth the effort.

The second thing that happened to provoke this identity crisis is that I wrecked my car on the way to work this morning. Thankfully it was nothing too serious & I wasn’t actually injured- I’m just a little sore & psychologically torn up. Most importantly my daughter wasn’t with me. Furthermore the only major damage to the car was a flat tire & a small dent, the latter of which isn’t worth fixing. My husband was able to come remove the car from the ditch & change the tire so that I could get home & try to spend the rest of the day recovering so that I can make it to work tomorrow. But the whole thing has left me feeling like a total idiot. I mean, for someone who has spent her whole life priding herself on her intelligence & rational decision-making, going off the road & ending up in a ditch feels like an incredibly dumb thing to do (because it IS an incredibly dumb thing to do)! Being a perfectionist is hard because even when everyone around you says “It’s ok, it’s just an honest mistake, it happens to everyone,” your own brain won’t let you off that easily. And I’ve always had this terrible anxiety that if I weren’t such a perfectionist about everything, my whole life would fall apart, like that’s the only thing holding me together or keeping my life “on the tracks.” So when I make a mistake like this, I’m left feeling like: A. “I’m not as smart as I think I am or as people so often tell me I am.” Or B: “My life is going off the rails! How could I slip up like this? What is wrong with me?”

I’m sure this is just part of getting older but I’m left wondering how we are supposed to define ourselves when the things we’ve always been defined by feel somehow wrong or invalid. I’m also sure that after some good sleep I’ll probably feel much better, both physically & psychologically. But one thing I’ve learned over the years- albeit slowly- is that the only way to really move past something is to just face it, to allow myself to feel every emotion I’m feeling rather than telling myself “I shouldn’t feel this way. This is stupid. Just move on.” None of those things are helpful. I’ve found that the best way to actually “toughen up & move on” is to be weak for a moment, to cry when I need to, to scream at the universe when things feel unfair. Otherwise I’m just creating a powder keg that will inevitably explode in a much more unpleasant & hurtful way later down the road.

I think one mistake many people make, perhaps women more than men, though I could certainly be wrong about that part, is that we often allow the world around us to define us. I know I am guilty of this at times. The truth is that we have to learn to define ourselves in a world that so often seeks to box us in or to make us conform to pre-arranged identities. Fighting against that is hard & when we inevitably fail to live up to our own standards at times, we have to learn to forgive ourselves but still keep trying.

So I guess I’ve written all this to say, I forgive myself. I want to do better- I need to do better. But I won’t accomplish that if I spend all my time berating myself for not being perfect.

So dear perfectionist brain, take a “chill pill.” It’s going to be ok.

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An Ode to Mediocrity- Or Is It?


If you know me, you know that I have always been, & likely will always be, a perfectionist at heart. An over-achiever. A bit OCD, if you will, but not to the point of having the TRUE disorder. So it should come as no surprise to hear that I got into nursing with the goal of becoming a Nurse Practitioner. I saw it as the cheaper way to become a doctor (or rather something similar enough to a doctor) since I had a full scholarship to nursing school. And I had no problem working as an RN for several years in order to get there. Initially I thought “Ok, I’ll do 3-5 years as a bedside hospital nurse & then I’ll go back to school.” Well, five years went by & the unthinkable happened: I decided to become a mom! If you’ve been reading my blog for a while you know that for many years I said I never wanted children. But somewhere around age 25 or 26 I changed my mind. Believe me when I say it wasn’t a flippant decision either. It was something that happened gradually & that I put a monumental amount of thought into- if anything TOO much thought, as I am often known to over-analyze things.

Anyway, around that same time in my life, I realized that becoming an NP just didn’t interest me that much anymore. It’s not that I didn’t/don’t think I was/am smart enough to do it- I had/have no doubt in my mind I could do it if I wanted to. Many doctors & NPs I’ve worked with over the years have told me I’d be a great NP, just as they’ve also told me I’d be a great ICU nurse- but I’ve never wanted that either, for a variety of reasons. The simple truth is I realized being an NP just wasn’t what I WANTED anymore. Now, five years later, I feel even more strongly about this issue. The longer I’ve been a nurse, the more I realize that I don’t agree with certain things that the medical system teaches/does, so being an NP would put me in way too many ethical dilemmas that I don’t want to have to face. Furthermore, as a mom of a small child, I don’t want to take call overnight & on weekends. I don’t want to come home & have a mountain of charting to do. Simply put, I don’t want a job that follows me home & dominates my life 24/7. I had enough of that experience when I briefly did nursing management & I realized that life it is NOT for me. Or at least it isn’t at this stage in my life. Obviously I can’t predict how I may feel in ten or twenty years, just as I didn’t predict I’d eventually want to become a mom (ok, deep down, I knew I’d probably change my mind on that but I fought against it for a long time, believe me).

I know plenty of women my age (& younger) who have gone back to school when they have young children, but I for one cannot even begin to fathom the stress of doing that on top of having a young child. Maybe I just find motherhood more stressful than some women do. Or maybe I just value my own happiness too much. But if there is one thing I’ve learned in a decade of nursing it’s that life is way too short to be anything but happy as much of the time as we can. As someone who struggles with anxiety & depression & OCD tendencies, the last thing I need is to overload my life with too many things going on at once. I’m in awe of those who are able to do it & seem to not just survive but actually thrive. But I know my limits. And I’m not pushing them. Plus, if nothing else, there is no age limit on when I can go back to school if I do decide to pursue that path someday. It’s not like you can’t get a master’s degree in your 40s or 50s (or older)! On the other hand, my daughter will NOT be young forever. Someday she will need me a lot less than she does now. Trust me when I say that I look forward to that more than maybe I should some days. But at the same time I refuse to give up time with her now when I know she is still very much in her formative years. To be clear, I’m not judging anyone who chooses a different path than I have. We all have different personalities & needs, as do our kids- this is just what I’ve found makes sense for ME.

As much as I love nursing, some days I actually dream about becoming a high school English (or maybe even history) teacher. I would love the chance to grapple deep subjects with young minds. But as with being an NP, there are so many things I disagree with about the modern education system. The idea of doing lesson plans makes me cringe. The idea of enforcing dress codes makes me cringe. Furthermore, I’d probably get fired for choosing books almost entirely from the various banned books lists (keep in mind the Bible is on many of those lists so it’s not as narrow of a range of books as you may think). Not to mention there is the sad fact that I’d be making considerably less money as a teacher than I do as a nurse (even working part time). And I’m not going to lie, I don’t want to take a pay cut, especially since I’d have to pay to go back to school to pursue such a career.

What I’m getting at here is that I so often find myself as odds with “the system.” I’m a great rule follower when it comes to following protocols for things like starting an IV, inserting a foley catheter, taking a BP, etc. That kind of stuff is very evidence-based, very tangible. But there are other part of our medical system that are not so evidence-based, in my opinion, but are still done because they benefit the system itself (or the various pharmaceutical companies) or they’re just “the way it’s always been done.” Anyway, on a similar token, if I were a teacher I think I’d be great at getting kids to have in depth discussions about serious life matters. But I’d probably be horrible at some of the more practical aspects of teaching, like lesson plans & grading homework.

I guess what I’m saying is there are so many things in life I think I could accomplish, but there are so many hoops I’d have to jump through, so much unnecessary red tape to battle, that I find myself for once in my life being satisfied with what some might call mediocrity. Being a part time outpatient nurse, partly because the schedule is beneficial to my husband’s career (meaning I’m more available for our daughter when he sometimes isn’t), is certainly something I would have called mediocre a decade ago. But you know what? I’m happy! I don’t mean I never feel sad or disappointed or scared or anxious. Trust me, in truth I’m naturally a bit of a melancholy person. But overall, I am very content with my life. And if that means having a bit more of a traditional role than perhaps I envisioned for myself, so be it. After all, it’s not like I’m stuck at home all day every day. It’s not like I do all the housework while my husband does none. No way! I could never stand for that, as I mentioned in my last blog post. The way I see it is I get the best of both worlds & if that means I’ve settled for mediocrity, for once in my life, I am content with that.

I’m not really sure what the point of all this was, other than to settle my own overly analytic brain. But that’s a point in & of itself, is it not? Anyway, if your life hasn’t turned out quite the way you imagined, if you’ve made different choices than you thought you would, even done things you said you’d never do, just know that you’re not alone. And as long as you’re happy with your choices, the rest of the world doesn’t matter. After all- no one else’s opinion is paying your bills or raising your children. No one else has to sleep with your conscience at night.

In conclusion, I never thought my life would lead me where it has now. Actually, maybe that’s being a bit more dramatic than is strictly necessary. But the point is, my life hasn’t followed the trajectory I would have predicted years ago, nor the trajectory many folks who knew me as a child or teenager might have predicted. But I am happy where I am, & I’m learning that the destination truly isn’t half as important as the journey along the way. I don’t say that to make excuses for bad decisions either. I say that because I’ve realized that it’s ok to change your goals, it’s ok to be something or someone different than you were in the past or than you pictured yourself becoming. If something you once thought would be mediocre (or even lame) makes you happy now, embrace it. True mediocrity, in my opinion, is refusing to be flexible, refusing to adapt to the stages of life. True mediocrity is not doing whatever makes you happiest & most fulfilled.

And based on that definition, I don’t think my life is mediocre at all.

And you never know- maybe I’ll run a book club someday & that will fulfill my fantasy of being an English/literature teacher without having to deal with “the system” & all the red tape it entails!

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Pandemic Panic


This is going to be brain vomit because I’m working with a limited window of time here but I feel like I need to write SOMETHING for my own sanity. I don’t know about you but this pandemic, this whole year, has been absolute HELL for my anxiety. The older I’ve gotten the more I’ve realized that I have a baseline anxiety that really is a double-edged sword. It’s a big part of what makes me so driven & hard-working but it’s also the main reason why I struggle like hell to relax. Oh yeah, if curse words bother you, this might not be the post for you. Now that I’m in my thirties I’ve realized life is far too short to censor myself just because some people are “sensitive” over something as silly as four letter words. Please- be offended by poverty, by war, by child abuse, by systemic racism, by famine. If a WORD offends you, I kindly ask you to GROW UP.

Ok, sorry, that was an unexpected rant but ANYWAY, I guess I am just tired. I’m tired of coronavirus. I’m tired of masks. I’m tired of social distancing. I’m tired of society being so damn polarized about everything. No matter what the issue is, it seems that most people cannot find any middle ground. Or at least that is how the news media & social media paint things. In real life, I think many people are far more reasonable but social media & the news bring out the worst in us & seek to divide us further. I’ve about had it with all of it. As a Libertarian I am so tired of being told I’m too conservative for the liberals & too liberal for the conservatives. On almost every issue I find myself at odds with a huge portion of my “friends” & many of them are quick to tell me how terrible I am because I don’t agree with them. To those of you who can have rational conversations, thank you. You give me hope. I just wish there were more of you because I am becoming more & more cynical by the day & I know it isn’t healthy for me.

There isn’t any real point to this post other than to say I wish coronavirus were gone. I wish there weren’t an election this year. I wish I could wake up & know that I could hug my friends again without igniting fear. I wish the world weren’t so divided & so busy calling each other racists & sexists & fascists that no one can have an actual conversation of substance. I wish I could just have faith that everything will be ok & that normal life will someday, in the not too distant future, resume. But frankly I don’t have that faith right now. I see this going on for a very long time. I fear that my daughter will never have a normal school experience because of this virus. I fear that my anxiety will continue spiraling when just a few months ago, before all this started, I had it under better control than I had in YEARS.

I don’t miss being a kid. Or a teenager. Not at all. Let’s be real: my anxiety was already an issue back then so it wasn’t like I was the stereotypical carefree kid. Ha! Nope, not me. But right now I’m kind of tired of being an adult too. My anxiety isn’t even the “normal” kind that involves dreaming up every worst case scenario for everything. When it comes to a lot of stuff, I’m surprisingly chill. My anxiety has more to do with never being able to truly RELAX. My brain is just always going, going, going, like the damn Energizer Bunny. One of the reasons my husband & I connected so many years ago as teenagers is because we bonded over the realization that we both had this same “chattering squirrel” inside our heads that never shuts up or lets us fully relax. It sucks- plain & simple, it just sucks. It’s why we are so successful in so many areas of life but it’s also why we aren’t much good at enjoying that success.

This has been a very rambling post & I apologize that it is probably poorly written & may not offer much hope. I sincerely try not to pour negative energy into the world because there is way too damn much of that as it is. But I’m just not feeling a lot of positive energy these days so it’s hard to give that off. But I will share some songs that are serving as a lifeline for me these days. They give me hope & allow me to let off steam when nothing else seems to work. If you too are struggling, I hope they’ll do the same for you.

Times are Hard by Redlight King

You’re Not the Only One by Papa Roach

Come Around by Papa Roach

Get Up by Shinedown

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