All The Lessons, All The Tools

I did an Instagram post the other night because I was frustrated and sad and wanted to express that without whining or being ungrateful, but needed a bit of a "vent session." I've been working diligently on being more apt to "roll with the punches." I most identify with the idea that I'm "Anxious Alison," and planning and changing planning can be seriously difficult for me. Sometimes I can thrive in the chaos and keep the steady hand, other times I'm one second away from just screaming into my pillowcase. It can be quite a ride.

Last year during some chaos where self care had fallen to the wayside, I was miserable and mentally collapsing, I decided to take control and use my favorite coping mechanism, working out, to it's fullest advantage. For the first time in 5 years I joined a gym and went back to Spin classes. When I started I was averaging 4 spin classes a week and 3 days of boot camp. Then as things at home became worse I was adding in more double workouts to try and keep myself steady and balanced in the mayhem.

This year, because of budgeting, adulting and the gym losing instructors and messing with schedules, I had to get rid of the gym membership. Sad day. Now plenty of friends have said, "Gyms are only like $10 a month just go here, there and so and so." Yeah I need my classes, I work best in that environment and, we have zero extra money so, gotta do what ya gotta do.

A neighbor friend had a membership at the same gym and wanted a buddy to keep her in spin so she said we could go every Tuesday. I was psyched. This was the pick me up I needed and it wouldn't kill me to be slightly social and get to know her better. Welp, this happened all of one week before things changed and that was no longer an option. So, back to relying on me, myself and I.

This morning I am happy to report that after texting hubby at 8PM last night that "I'm running tomorrow whether I want to or not," I got my butt outta bed and ran 2 miles, and I feel frigging amazing. No, this isn't just endorphins or some weird runners high.

I realized something. Everything always goes back to the lessons and tools I learned over a decade ago in my therapy. Little things are bigger things in the grand spectrum and I need to work on some little things. Last week I really sucked at self care; this week, it has been tantamount to my success and I shall explain.

Last week I stayed up too late for no reason. Texting, watching re-runs of the same shows I've been watching for years, stressing about all the things I needed to do and worrying about things I could never control. I was tossing and turning about fading friendships, reaching out, not reaching out, drawing boundaries, not drawing boundaries, and things that make me unsettled. Last week I was exhausted, I didn't eat right, and I was cranky.

Now, self care looks different for everyone. For me, it is early bedtimes and new, healthy routines. I've been WAY better at adjusting things with less mental stress and not allowing my routines to "manage" me. I've been very attentive to when I need to be more gentle with myself. This week I asked my husband to meal prep some things for me this week and he did. This week I have been asleep by 9 every night and up by 5 every morning. And last night I started something, a new hope-to-be habit, that is LONG over-due.

Last night, with a cup of Sleepy Time tea and a tucked in kiddo one room away, I read for twenty minutes before bed, and it was a book I've been trying to read since December, but keep getting distracted and taken away from it. Not only did it help me get sleepy, but I felt so awesome investing that small amount of time into myself, and something for just me and my tired brain.

On another note, and this will bring the point around here eventually, at Church they started this experimental biblical reflection-type thing and instead of being lackluster, lazy and scoffing, I said "yes" and jumped in head first. Again with rolling with the punches, quickly it didn't work out as planned and I was left with one mentor and ally, a favorite mom within the church in fact, as someone to kind of check in with from time to time, instead of a small group atmosphere as intended.

The first week was okay; I liked the general spirit (pun intended) of what the exercises exemplified but things got heavy, fast. Instead of exploration it became homework. I reached out to a couple people a few times but, this was clearly meant to be group discussion with personal reflection and notating. It wasn't making me happy, or more plainly, it was "not sparking joy," if we need to conform to pop culture references. So I took a step back and thought, "Okay, so I put my best foot forward and handled the fallout of plans really well, and I tried to maintain this solo with some individual outreach but I'm definitely not hitting the target so then why am I stressing about something that I'm getting nothing out of?" EXACTLY!

It all came back to self care, lessons, and tools from what felt like I learned forever ago. This isn't to say I'm done with "church stuff;" this isn't to say I'm done trying new things. But I'm definitely learning my boundaries of saying "yes and no." And this includes saying yes and no to myself, and to others.

You may be thinking, okay, the gym isn't exactly a luxury and who doesn't make time to read a damn book? ME! The gym IS a luxury for me and I've disclosed previously as a writer, I'm the worst reader ever. And it dawned on me as to why I revert to some coping mechanisms so easily and why shaking things up can be daunting, so here we go:

My dad was a routine-driven dude. At 7AM he'd be planning dinner and every night that was in the dining room at the table at 6PM. When my mom left, in all the craze and turmoil, my dad gave up the dining room table nonsense and we used to live it up, eating in the "TV Room." We'd watch the Simpsons together, Friends, Will and Grace, Mad About You, Ellen, Cheers re-runs, Seinfeld, X-Files, Full House, and so on and so forth, all while eating dinner together. This became my favorite thing ever because instead of wallowing in the changes, we would just enjoy each other's company and lose ourselves in the plot lines and worlds of the characters on a screen.

And last night I realized that when I feel so out of control, so tired and beaten down by life and schedules, anxiety and depression, and at odds with my world, I re-watch Friends for the thousandth time and absorb the drama. I re-watch the Office and can't believe how oblivious Michael Scott is. I stay up late laughing at Seinfeld and remembering how many times that show was so right on and ahead of it's time. Because that's my version of "comfort food."

And while I love books and can devour a good series with the best of them, it's just not my go to for trying times. But the change in routine yesterday, although ever so slight, was just what the doctor ordered. It allowed me to effectively wind down and was calm and quiet. It let me read WITHOUT distraction, and distraction is my seemingly my forte.

Between the read and the run, I'm looking forward to tonight and my morning runs from here on out. I'm happy I'm back to "normal" bed times and not stressing over schedules, projects and things I can't force myself into. I'm discovering new peace. I didn't realize how volatile things have been, until this peace feeling came over me, and I must say, I just love it, and am more and more grateful for it. 

All the lessons, all the tools, I know them and I have them at my disposal, ready to use. It's easy to embrace the lazy and not do all the things. It's far more rewarding to get off your butt and get things done! Or, so I feel it is lately!