My Side Of Paradise

I have always had a love for horses. A connection, an awe, an intense wonder.

I love to just sit and watch them in the pasture grazing and swishing their tails. I love the sound of their hooves pounding on the grass as they run and buck as a storm rolls in.

The way they interact with each other, their intelligence, and the unique character each one has.

The curve of their necks and the set of their clean jawlines, flowing manes and flaring nostrils, and beautiful deep eyes.

But they are also bold, and strong, and spirited and sometimes easily frightened.

Many people say that horses are adept at mirroring who we are and how we are feeling at a particular moment. I am finding that I am learning to use this as a means of understanding my own fears and anxiety.

These beautiful creatures are helping me to gain emotional control and to confront and work through my fears, anxiety and panic.

My tips for happiness

Happiness has been a key factor in my life since this all began. If i wasn't having a panic attack, I was depressed because I though I was going to have one, I felt like it was ruining my life etc.
To combat this I propose you literally do what makes you happy whether this is going for a walk with your dog, watching your favourite films, having a pig out! , changing careers, crying when you need to release some stress...
Personally I was too hard on myself with university. I kept thinking I'm not doing as well as I did with my A levels, I wont get a 'top job'. This is ridiculous. Doing a law degree is hard enough and as long as I get the degree what else matters.
I was also unhappy with my relationship because my partner& I never communicated. This changed when we started to talk about our issues eg making time for eachother and this made me much happier because there wasnt as much tension and anamosity.
Some suggestions for you would be;
Get out of bed when you cannot be bothered! This made a huge change to me because my outlook on the day was a more productive one. My house is now tidy, well looked after and washing and ironing is always done. This in turn created a more positive atmosphere for me. A tidy home is a tidy mind! Plus this activity could be a distraction for you if youre feeling particulary anxious.
Crying. I always, always go on about crying. It is essential to releasing stress and emotions you're feeling. I actually read an article that said that crying releases the stress chemical in your tears. Although this can be stipulated, I think crying when you need to cry is essential. I speak to so many of my friends that say they cry for no apparent reason sometimes. Good! Crying never did anyone any harm. Bottling your feelings up is certainly not going to do anything positive for your mental and physical health. If you want to cry, sod it and cry!
Look forward to things. Make plans with family and friends so if you are having a bad day you have something to focus your mind on! "I can get through my day because.." I'm looking forward to my birthday in April and seeing my partner when he returns. This cheers me up when I'm low and I start to look for birthday decor, or thinking about what I can cook when hes home.
Exercise. Lots and lots of websites advise you to exercise when you're feeling low because it releases 'feel good' chemicals into your body. Personally I'm just happy with the thinking time that going for a walk or jog gives me. Its also a change of scenery if you have been stuck in the house or office and you need an escape.
Acceptance and forgiveness I was so angry with my mother and father for not listening to me for years when I used to panic which then culminated into panic disorder. My relationship with my mother suffered and this resulted in me isolating my from my family. I have now made peace with this because I realise I cannot change the past. This is my life and I will take control to make it better.
I was also fed up, frustrated, depressed that I had panic disorder. "Why me?" "why cant it just go away" Truth is sometimes it might happen but its not going to ruin my life. It will go away but it will just take time. Everybody in the world has been affected by some sort of mental illness whether it be depression, anxiety, grief... so I'm not a freak or 'not normal' because I panic, it is just a temporary ailment and I'm not going to be hard on myself because of it.
This is where my therapist really peed me off. She said "you shouldn't say that other people suffer so its OK because it sounds like you don't want to change" I do want to change and I will change, but whilst I am feeling like this I wont be angry or upset with myself because how will I ever be happy? I don't think she is right there.
Trust Yourself. This experience made me lose my confidence and rely on the opinions and advice of others. Obviously it is very beneficial to ask for help and I would suggest this 100% but also trust your own mind. From Octover 2011 I have become 'friends' with myself again. This may sound very strange but when I had my panic episode I lost all trust in my mind and body because I wasnt in control of them for those few days because of the panicky thoughts and sweating, trembling. Since then I have regained this by making my own mind up and trusting myself. I did this by thinking rationaly, doing little things by myself like going for a walk or going to the shops by myself. This made me realise I was safe to do things by myself without the reassurance of others and I was in control of my mind. I didnt rely on other people as much which made me feel more independant and that panic had less control over my life. This may be a strange concept to you but it has had a huge impact on me because I finally feel like Im back in control and can stop panic thoughts before they grow into a full blown panic attack.
Lastly, I'm not advising you go out, quit your job, split up with your partner and make rash decisions. I just think that making some minor changes to your lifestyle may benefit you if you're not in a happy place such as adding a walk to your daily routine, allowing yourself to have an emotional release, having a more positive outlook.
This is your life, you already have anxiety so dont let anything else affect you aswel :)

People pay good money for my anxiety symptoms

Lots of people would pay 50 dollars to have just a shred of the adrenalin that regularly courses through my bloodstream, rendering me dizzy, breathless, and fraught with the sensation that the world is a weird dream and I am seeing it all as if through a dirty shard of winter ice plucked from my driveway.

Why do I have such sensations? Well, because I am quite possibly an idiot. It may also be because I have a vivid imagination, which, if not occupied 24/7 with challenging and diversionary tactics, starts to eat itself. I try to think that nervous exhaustion will make me a better writer, and possibly give me colorful dreams in which bunnies give me candy. Unfortunately, it usually tends to limit my behavior, and it had started to limit it to such a degree that I suddenly found driving on the highway terribly frightening. The speed! The trucks! Without warning, my vision would get starry, my heart would race, and my hands would slip on the wheel.

The first time this happened, on the way to birthday party, I asked my seven-year-old to talk me in. "Talk me home, baby!" I shouted. "Talk about poop or farts if you wish, but keep talking, for God's sake! Mommy doesn't feel so good."

"Poop! Poop! In my soup!" he replied, helpfully.

Why am I so fearful? Is it because of the large tiger that I transport around? Maybe I should return the basket of spitting adders that usually ride in the passenger seat. They have become ornery, after all.

I decided I needed to arrest this nonsense in its tracks, so I recently signed up for an online course called The Linden Method. It cost 87 dollars. Yes, I am paying a lot of money I don't have, just to eliminate the unsettling sensations that others pay for when they eagerly decide to bungee jump, leap out of planes, see a horror movie, or ride a rollercoaster. (I hate rollercoasters. Horrible things.) Couldn't I bottle the stuff?

I like The Linden Method, so far.  I'll report more on it in future entries. Today, I decided I would try one of his tactics, called "diversion," during my MRI at White Plains Hospital. I had the MRI due to a strange little lump below my shoulderblade, which is most likely nothing whatsoever but needed to be "checked out."

The MRI is like being stuck in a tube while someone tries to create alternative music with a lawn mower nearby. The noise was tremendous and pounding: "Boom-boom-boom-boom! Mee-me-me-me-me! Wangh-wangh-wangh-wangh!" It goes on for numerous three-minute sessions and then you hear the tiny voice of the technician in your ear, under the giant headphones. "Everything OK?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay, three more minutes."

Then they take you out and stick a needle in your arm that injects something into your bloodstream and repeat the whole process again. And you can't move during the whole thing, not a bit! They told me that men don't do very well with the experience. Men cry and beat on the insides of the tube and are pulled out soaked in sweat.

"I can handle this," I said stoutly.

When they put me in I decided I needed a diversion. I recited the multiplication table in my head.
"4 x 4 is 16! 4 x 5 is 20! 4 x 6 is 24!" I got a little stuck late in the nines, and by the time I figured it out I realized I wasn't scared at all. I had forgotten to be scared. I was worried about the nines! I got so bored with the dumb multiplication table that I almost fell asleep. It was warm in that tube. No one was bothering me. My cell phone wouldn't ring here. I did get a little worried that the magnetic business involved would pull the fillings out of my teeth, but that was a passing agitation.

Of course, driving home I got a little nervous again, so when I started feeling jittery behind the wheel I impetuously tossed a cup of ice water all over myself. I had bought it at the hospital when they told me I needed to hydrate after the MRI. Linden had suggested that applying a cold cloth to one's neck was helpful, so I thought: "Why not take this theory to the next level?"

The ice cubes slipped down inside my shirt and fell all over my lap; some fell on the floor and crunched under the clutch. My shirt was soaked, but not from sweaty terrors. I felt like a dope but I didn't care. I glanced over to the car stopped next to me at the red light. Due to the tinted windows, I couldn't tell if the driver was looking at me with a puzzled expression. When the light changed I fired that little Jetta out of the gate.

"So long, suckas!" I said.

More Of my Best Ways to Relax!

It was fun writing yesterday's post but it also got me thinking that I left out many of my own personal favorite best ways to relax. I'll share them with you now.

Hey, these are my personal favs and they really work to reduce my anxiety!

1) Horseback riding - You may wonder why I list this as I have already confessed that riding horses is something I have become fearful of doing! Yes it is true that I get very anxious often when I ride. But when I actually do go riding and actually make it through and get on my horse and ride a bit, and even challenge myself, I am just so relieved when it is over I feel completely relaxed and get a feeling of euphoria! Best feeling ever!

2) Watching CSI - there is no reason why this should be relaxing given the content, but it's somehow very relaxing for me LOL! I just love Grissom!

3) Foot Massage - This can be one of the most relaxing experiences ever! I have heard that all the nerves in your body are connected to your feet!

4) Shampoo and Blow Dry - Yes, yet another salon method to get over feeling stressed, anxious and panic. I don't like to talk - just feel the sensations and get calm!

5) Blog - I am finding blogging very relaxing. I am not sure if it's the soothing feeling I get from engaging in a repetitive habit or the relief from expressing my feelings, so I can let them go.

Who knows I may have more to add to my list of best ways to relax tomorrow. What about you?

Anxiety panic attacks is ruining my life

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My Royal Parks Half 13 1 a comedown

It's been nearly two weeks since I ran a half marathon. My first. 13.1 miles. One of the best known half marathons with the prettiest and most popular route through four of London’s eight Royal parks: Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, Green Park, and St James’ Park, with a handful of London’s best landmarks in-between. I ran the whole way, I never stopped or even walked, and I finished in 2 hours 48 minutes which shaved 12 minutes off my expected time of 3 hours. I did, you could say, a bloody great job.

So why, then, have I been monumentally grumpy and sad and frustrated in the fortnight since I crossed that finish line after a 400m sprint (just saying)?

When I imagined the time post-race I thought it would mimic my post-Vitality British 10k in July; I’d be full of adrenaline and positivity and pride and determination to do more and more and more. That’s how I signed up for the Royal Parks Half in the first place. I was high on success, tried to open a recipe for an extortionately cheesy and carb-filled pasta dish, but slipped and ended up pledging to Alzheimer’s Society that I’d raise £500 for them by running 13.1 miles. Less than 12 hours after running my first ever 10k.

And sweet Lord, don’t get me wrong, I was bloody chuffed when I crossed that finished line in Hyde Park. I hadn’t put any pressure on myself and I’d done what I set out to do: run a half marathon without stopping. I didn’t push for a time, I didn’t have any competition in my sights, and I didn’t give a merry fuck what I looked like around that course. Red, sweaty, slumped over, angry-looking, and slug-like, if you were wondering.

It hurt though. Obviously. It’s a very long way, 13.1 miles, and I ached in places I didn’t know I would ache… 

…

Ok, my fanny felt bruised. Like someone had punched it. For real. Why didn’t anyone tell me that could happen? Should it happen?! WHO KNOWS. 

But I was fine and very much looking forward to a bath. The aches and cramps and suspicious searing pain in my left foot would dissipate after a LUSH sponsored bubble bath, lots of pasta and a good sleep.

The next day I ended up in A&E.

Of course. 

In hindsight, going to County Hall/The London Eye for a big World Mental Health Day event to talk, one-to-one, with The Duke & Duchess of Cambridge and Prince Harry about my London Marathon plans the day after running my first half marathon was… questionable. 

I ended up in tears as I walked/hobbled from Waterloo Station that Monday morning. My foot was in agony. But I was too proud and too embarrassed to show it so I walked as normally as possible with a big smile on my face until the event was over and Ryan met me to carry me to A&E.

It was ridiculous and I was so angry. I felt like I was wasting the NHS’ time and money, but thankfully I was out within two hours with instructions to rest and work from home for the rest of the week. I could have had a stress fracture but apparently they don’t show on x-rays for 7-10 days after the ‘incident’ so mine was clear. 

Thankfully it’s healed and I haven’t needed to go back for a second x-ray. I still have no idea what happened but it’s definitely not broken, so. Good.

But that fortnight of resting and, more importantly, not running has been the most miserable fortnight I’ve had in a while. Not only have I not been able to run, but I’ve taken the injury as a personal attack on myself. I’ve beaten myself up horrendously as I’ve winced around the flat and watched running friends bask in the glory of the half marathons they’ve completed up and down the country over the last few weeks. This has pretty much been my thought process:

1. They’re fine, why weren’t they injured?
2. Bastards.
3. …
4. They did it in well under two hours.
5. Nearly three it took me. 
6. …
7. Pathetic really.
8. I obviously wasn’t ready.
9. Why did I think I could run a half marathon? 
10. Look at me.
11. …
12. My foot hurts.
13. Ow.
14. Those half marathon photos are horrendous. 
15. Look at my body shape, what even is that.
16. *pokes stomach fat*
17. *punches foot*
18. Ow.
19. …
20. They’ve already been for a 5k run?!
21. IT’S BEEN TWO DAYS, YOU BELL.
22. …
23. My foot hurts.

etc. 

So, I’ve learnt a lot. I’ve learnt that:

• I hate being restricted from doing things, especially running. 
• I’m very good at attacking myself for something that is totally common.
• I’m still incredibly good at flip turning my mood upside down.
• Ditto unncessary spiralling and catastrophising.
• I hate people saying nice, encouraging things to me when I’m feeling so sorry for myself.
• I always put pressure on myself no matter what I consciously think.
• I have bad trainers.
• I’m bad at being sensible and following doctors’ orders (I managed to work from home for one day). 
• My overachiever days as a kid are most certainly not over.

They sound like mostly bad things I’ve learnt, but they’re not. They’re just things. The only rule with classing them as just #things is: I’m allowed to feel sorry for myself but I can’t continue to feel sorry for myself. I still want to mope and feel bitter and jealous, I still want to hate my body and think I’m not good enough for all this running, but I can’t and I won’t. It’s not fair. 

I ran a half marathon. I ran the whole 13.1 miles, did a sprint finish, and crossed the line in under 3 hours. I injured my foot and had to rest for a fortnight but that’s ok, it’s a runner’s right, I’m learning, and I’ve got a full marathon to train for so I’m carrying damn well on.

I’m doing, you could say, a bloody great job.

Query MY HOUSE

Binxie Durbin

Weichert, Realtors

Larchmont, NY

 

Dear Ms. Durbin,

 

"They haven't done a thing to keep it up."

 

"What a disgrace! No curb appeal."

"That old dump should have been razed back in the 1890s."

 

That's what the neighbors mutter about 42 Terrace Lane. But what they don't know is that the house hides a secret. Behind the crumbling plaster, musty shag carpets, and hideous 1970s wood paneling, 42 Terrace Lane is bursting with potential. Yes, she has crickets in the basement and a poltergeist in the wainscoting, but when a new owner sinks approximately half a million dollars into her, she's going to be gorgeous.

 

A little down on her luck, 42 Terrace Lane is determined to make something of herself. They won't dare call her a "filthy eyesore" anymore. This time, she's going to have shiny granite countertops, not Nu-Econo-Brik. This time, she's going to have a porch that doesn't sag, and a back deck with a brand-new Weber gas grill, and there are going to be really good dinner parties with fine china in her dining room, damn it. If she can just get there before a potential owner's spike heel punches through the rotting wood on the stairs, she's golden.

My Victorian dystopian for adults and several children, MY HOUSE, is complete at 2,467 square feet. It’s like a cross between THE JONES’S HOUSE, MO 'N' JACK'S SPORTS BAR, and FOLSOM PRISON. Please let me know if you care to see any portion of it; I'd be happy to provide access to the front porch or foyer. I am open to suggestions for revision, including tearing off the back half of the house so that a little sunlight might get into the damp corners of the living room.

MY HOUSE is my second dwelling; MY FIRST HOUSE was sold to a nice couple from New Rochelle in 2008. I have other works on the property, including MY GARAGE and MY ROTTING STORAGE SHED WHICH PROBABLY CONTAINS SOME ANIMAL FAECES, which may also interest you.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

My Holiday Catalogue Gifts That Will Inspire Ire Spittle and Occasional Terror

It's a star. On top of a tree. This is why it qualifies for "Inventor's Corner." Because it's a star. On top of a tree! (They trademarked "menorahment" so don't you try to borrow it.)

This guy's nickname in high school was "The Slanket." He touched girls underneath big blankets then, too, but now the girls can't get out because his patented "The Slanket (R) Siamese" is actually like a big molesto-sack!

What's really in that bottle of "Go Away Gray"? Is it really "Go Away My Weak Flaccid Weiner"? Mmm, mmm, she seems to think so!

Well, you had me at "the secret is in the soft silicone poly magnetic feelers that soothingly manipulate..."

Auntie June in a Box; fits neatly under the bed for winter storage. Emerges fresh and lifelike!

Is the cat pooing, do we think, while this photograph was taken? Or tinkling? Or both? And of what is he thinking? Philosophy? The world economy? Gnawing on your nads? It is a subject of much debate among shoppers everywhere.

Yummy home-grown fungus in a box! I so can't wait to eat this.

Keep recalcitrant employees captive at their desks with the "shoe boot." No more two-hour lunch "hours" and gossip by the water cooler. Plus, they will have toned metatarsels.

He doesn't look bashful. He looks kill-ful! He's GOING TO FUCK UP YOUR SHIT! Happy holidays.

This is funniest when you're bald. In fact, it's a laugh a minute! Precisely one laugh per minute, until doomsday arrives and/or bald uncle Jimmy swings his golf club at your scampering rump.