September 21st, 2006
In keeping with my generally depressed and pissy mood, even though I’m kind of happy to be leaving to go out of town today, even though flying and travelling completely freak and stress me out, I’ve decided to go with pet peeves for this week’s Thursday Thirteen. In particular, I’m focusing on pet peeves involving people since it’s people who’ve been irritating and hurting me this week.
I think this will be a good, healthy outlet for the pain.
No. Really.
Thirteen Things about N. Mallory
- People who insist on entering through the exit door at the
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Tags: Thursday Thirteen, bloghopping, meme
September 8th, 2006
Well, my latest lab work came back still showing something abnormal with my kidneys. I’m going back over to the hospital this afternoon to get stuck some more; all of these tests have to do with autoimmune illnesses related to the kidneys apparently and most of these results won’t be back for a few weeks.
The Rheumy wants me to see a Kidney specialist and I’ve asked him to consult with my GP as she was also discussing this — I’d like to have one Kidney specialist and not two in the mix. Since he’s not in today, that
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Tags: wellness, autoimmune kidney disease, rheumatologist, CT Scan, lung cancer
April 17th, 2006
I know I’ve been quiet a couple of days. The truth is that there’s been some more arguing on the phone and in IMs and a couple of emails. Mostly it’s been one-sided so-called “Tough Love” coming from N2; at least that’s what she calls it.
I feel kind of beat up and sore and raw right now. It’s all been rather eye-openning.
Imagine finding out that the things your most afraid your friends will think about you are actually the things they think about you. But they “love you anyway” or they wouldn’t be talking to you about it. Quite frankly,
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Tags: friendship, dysfunctional drama, wellness, depression, anxiety
April 5th, 2006
I really got something out of my therapy group/class on Monday night. It was the first time I really understood that there really are people out there just like me. People who really do think just like me. Actually, I feel kind of bad for them really.
I related mostly to two in particular who had completed their “automatic thoughts” exercises using experiences similar to mine and who had pretty much had similar or exactly the same thought patterns. It’s comforting in some way to know that I’m not the only one who automatically thinks I’m going to be fired just
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Tags: therapy
March 30th, 2006
Be sure that she knows that it’s not our fault you’re like this.”
– Mom Mallory instructing me upon hearing I was voluntarily entering therapy 10+ years ago
I’m kind of on a roll here with this therapy stuff. It’s kind of like I opened a door and I don’t want to shut it again. There’s all kinds of thoughts and memories about my childhood that are kind of floating in and out. There’s nothing that’s really “ah-ha!” or defining about any of it, but then there wouldn’t be a singular moment that sent me plummeting over into this ball of paranoia, would there. It’ll be a thousand tiny pushes and pin-pricks.
This week in the reading materials and therapy group/class we talked about the nature vs. nurture theories around depression and anxiety.
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Tags: therapy
March 30th, 2006
I’m having the strangest morning. Somewhere in the back corner in the shadows of my mind dwells a memory from my childhood that I ignore. Every now and then it peeps it’s head out as if to ask me to reconsider examining it but I never do because I’ve long dismissed it as much ado about nothing, just too much attention over too little, just a lot of embarrassment for a sixth grader.
For some reason, this morning in traffic, I couldn’t ignore it. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the therapy. I’ve been questioning and exploring my childhood quite a bit the last few days, trying to revisit the events that might have pushed me over the edge into this ball of anxiety and paranoia I am today.
And there it was.
I was nine years old and in the sixth grade. I’d started a year early. I’d also done a pretty good job of nearly getting expelled from an expensive private fundie Christian school so I was attending a public elementary school while my parents looked for another non-Catholic private school in New Orleans that would have me. The teachers either loved me or hated me and whereas one would ask me to keep an eye on her 2nd grade class, another would keep me from taking the tests for the gifted classes “just because” — and don’t give me that crap about how teachers aren’t like that, my mother discovered later that I was always right about my teachers ‘tudes. 
Anyway back to the memory, I had become a crossing guard or bus monitor or somesuch. Whatever it was, I got to leave class early in the afternoon and wear a nifty orange vest and make people walk not run in straight lines to their buses. It was important work and it was a great honor and I took it quite seriously and I was proud of the honor. I wore that vest like a badge of courage and privilige. I was special, and since I wasn’t exactly the prettiest or the smartest or an athlete and since I was younger than everyone and didn’t live in the same neighborhood, I kind of needed that feeling of special beyond being the absolute smallest.
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Tags: rape, Women's Rights, therapy, wellness, Me
March 29th, 2006
Those of you who don’t suffer from any kind of anxiety might not understand, but for me I live in a constant state of feeling like something dreadful is about to happen. Even though I have never ever been evicted from anywhere, just seeing a flyer stuck in my door is enough to trigger a mild panic attack as I approach from the parking lot, the flashing light on my answering machine is a harbringer of some horrible message of doom, and if it’s not shaped like a card from the Hallmark store, any envelop with my parents’ handwriting means I am in trouble, despite the fact that I am now thirty-five years old and have lived on my own since 1993.
And, no, the fact that I can see the humor in my own pain does not make it any easier. It just means that I should reconsider my left-behind career in stand-up comedy.
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Tags: anxiety, dysfunctional family
