7 YEARS LATER…(Approximately)

It’s Hot.

I’m trying to figure out why I shouldn’t go meet this guy at the beach.  I’m afraid to leave the house but you know sometimes thats just embarrassing to try to explain to people.  I’m afraid I’ll have a panic attack – what else is new? He seems to want to see me and I’d like to see him seeing as we have been talking every night for months now.  He seems like a good guy.  What’s the problem?

I couldn’t find a problem logical enough for me to stay home.  I honestly felt compelled to go, like if I’d miss something if I didn’t.

I don’t remember much of my drive there, its a blur of nerves, heat, sun, and finding my way by memory.  I do remember I arrived at our designated meeting spot before he did.  This allowed me lots of extra time to be nervous and get even more sweaty then I already was.

He arrived just a few minutes after me.  He pulled up and parked beside me.  We both drive red cars.  Interesting.  I looked over to wave like the goofball that I am and time stopped for a second in my head.  Even though now he was a little older and looked a little different with a full beard and beautiful LONG blonde hair, it was him.  He looked like a rockstar with his classic aviators on.  He smiled, my heart skipped a beat.  “DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID” I say to myself, I beg my brain not to go all panic on me and ruin what could be a glorious day.

As we gathered our beach things I chattered about who knows what trying to seem calm, cool, and collected.  I noticed he noticed my awesomeness- thank you Venus.com “Marilyn enhancer” bikini top.  I tried not to be super self conscience about my newly short hair- it seemed like a good idea a week ago but now that I’m seeing his golden locks I’m jealous and desire to match.

We walked and talked and slugged our stuff down to the beach.  I love the beach, I do.  I used to go as a kid all the time.  I forgot about the beach over the years.  I honestly had not been back since the summer we met.  It felt good to be by the water, on the sand.  It was a good day to go to the beach.  There wasn’t a ton of people yet there were enough around to make people watching interesting.  I forgot my SPF 50 but I managed to have a bottle of SPF 8 tanning lotion… Needless to say we BURNED.  We were out there for hours just lying on the sand talking.  The time flew by, not once did I feel the need to leave, not once did I feel panicked or puke-y nor did I even think about it.  I could feel my skin burning but I didn’t want to leave.  There was something about him.  Something I could not let go, I wanted it, whatever it was.

Eventually due to our burning skin and probable dehydration we had to end our beach day.  He helped me put my stuff in my car and gave me a sweaty hug before I got in, HEART SKIPS BEAT.  He promises to text me later and even though I tell myself not to get to hung up on something I don’t know is anything I’m elated.  He got in his car and waited for me to start my car and get going before he did.  He followed me to the first stop sign where I went left and he went straight.

I do remember driving home from the beach.  I felt different then the girl who drove to the beach.   felt lucky in a way, lucky that I made the unusual decision to leave the house.  I didn’t know what would happen.  I didn’t know if he was into me, my awesomeness in my bikini top or what he was even looking for.  I didn’t know if he would text me later like he said or if I would even see him again.  But something, something just felt right.  For a worrier I was oddly not worried about this.  I was curious as to where it would go.  Somehow I felt like I had met my match.  I just had the best day with Mr. Beautiful, THE BEST DAY in a sea of sad days.  He was different.

Ever since that day last June we have been INSEPARABLE.  He did indeed text me later and we continue to text, talk, and see each other everyday.  He is different and he makes me see things differently.  He is beautiful inside and out and he makes me feel beautiful inside and out.  He never judges me and he isn’t bothered AT ALL by my panic situation.  We are on the same page of the same chapter of the same book and it is amazing.  I never thought I could have this.  I have what I’ve always wanted and it blows my mind.

He waited years for me and I hope to spend years making it up to him.   Had I not been on that beach on that day all those years ago we may have never met.  Had I not gone against my own personal rules and given him my info we may have never kept in touch.  Had he not been persistent we may have never met again at the beach.  Life really does work in mysterious ways and love is real.

Trying to be productive with Anxiety on my back

I wrote a list of to-do’s out last night for today.  This list consisted of 3 things:

  • remove nail polish
  • do kitty litters
  • shower

It took me all day but I have managed to complete said list.  I am even blogging and I managed to make noodles for dinner.  Yay me.

I am not a lazy person.  I do not like lazy people.  It is not laziness that prevents me from doing things.  It’s anxiety.

Everything I do has a hint of “it’s not going to work” or “you suck” to it.  I try to think the opposite as I do know deep down that I don’t suck and maybe if I work really hard something will work.  I still get sucked down by the thoughts and feelings of so many failed projects.  So many quit jobs.  Unfinished College programs.

I want to work, perhaps go back to school, find what makes me happy.  A career is very important to me and so far a career seems like a wish that is just no attainable.  I pick the wrong courses, I end up hating my major or the whole program all together (hello Dental Administration – why did I take you?!?).  My previous post-secondary knowledge is starting to become out of date (hello Art & Design – I love you but your are getting old.  Nobody uses the dinosaur programs or techniques I was taught).  I have nothing but industrial kitchen experience under my belt as that is what I did for 7 years before that became too depressing.  My second nervous breakdown caused me to quit that job so needless to say I am not in a big hurry to find another kitchen to work in.  Then, of course, there is that pesky little problem of living in the middle of nowhere.  I used to like it.  I enjoy the quiet and the privacy.  Lately I find it as depressing as anything else.  There is nothing around, nothing to strive for, nowhere to go, and no room to grow, at least creatively.  It downright sucks.

Then I think, maybe it’s me.  Maybe I AM the one with the big problem.  Perhaps I cannot be pleased.  Perhaps I am just the village idiot that should be happy I have what I have.  But I am not happy.  I want more.  The village idiot would not want more right?!

I miss traveling.  I love to film and edit footage.  I love to type.  I feel the need to advocate for mental health.  There MUST be something out there I can do and do well.  Something that won’t cause me to have a nervous breakdown.  Something that won’t cause me to lose myself and become miserable.  Is this the point where I decide to try to be my own boss? Is this when I throw caution to the wind and live the life I want now? Will I regret it later when it all blows up in my face? (Oh hello negativity, you again).

I don’t know.  I don’t know what I will do.  I do know that I am so sick of anxiety and negative thoughts standing in my way.  Do I continue to listen to those thoughts or do I encore them and go forward?  I don’t know.  We shall find out.

If I do continue to listen to the negative thoughts I do know I will also have to live with the regret of never knowing if my dreams could come true.  I don’t know if that is wise seeing as that seems like it would plague me and depress me for the rest of my life.

 

 

 

Tattoo Therapy

Tattoo #7. Partial sleeve watercolour Roses.  February 25, 2016.

St.  Catharines, Ontario, CANADA.

ARTIST : Shaun Whalen

 

Tattoos.  One of the few things that make me happy these days.  This is my 7th addition (I think.  I counted twice).  I bought it for myself as a late birthday present.  I turned 32 this year (*shudders*) and a new tattoo was all I wanted.  The photos were taken about an hour after it was completed.  Since then it has peeled once and itched like crazy.

My tattoo aftercare is quite simple.  I keep it clean, I don’t touch it, I avoid the sun, and I apply Lubriderm twice a day (during the healing process).  The healing process may seem as though it is a week or two but really it takes your skin a SIX WEEKS to heal.  This is because it takes your skin 6 weeks to complete it’s life cycle.

SKIN LIFE CYCLE?

Yes.  Your skin has a life cycle.  I learned this way back when in Cosmetology but I found this knowledge useful especially when caring for new tattoos and piercings (that I love so much).  A skin cycle is the amount of time it takes for the new cells deep in your skin to be born and make their way towards the outer layer of skin where they ultimately shed or slough off. This takes about 6 weeks.

So my rule of thumb for tattoos in particular is to treat it as if it is new for 6 weeks.  I may apply Lubriderm more or less then twice a day along the road to recovery, it all depends on how itchy it gets those first few weeks.  I avoid sun, baths (as in laying in the bathtub immersed in water- I shower instead), touching my new tattoo needlessly, NEVER PICK or SCRATCH it (no matter how tempted you may be).  In the end it will be worth the wait and your tattoo will thank you by being the beautiful work of art you wanted it to be.

Also, (try to) NEVER forget to apply sunscreen (after healing) to your tattoos.  It helps protect them from fading and also helps your skin from getting cancer.  Two birds with one stone 😉 .

This tattoo in particular is not finished.  I have more roses to add in a few months to the bottom.  Stay tuned in the meantime for more of my tattoos, piercings, stories, experience, and anything else related to (my) Body Mods.  I would like to blog each one so I have some kind of record of when I got them, where I got them, yada yada yada.

 

 

WHEN DEPRESSION ATTACKS

I have no real inspiration.  I just want to sleep.  I feel like a failure.  I am so sad I could cry for days. Everything hurts.  My thoughts won’t stop.

Depression is upon me. Oh who am I kidding?  Depression SURROUNDS me.  Writing this blog may very well be the most productive thing I have done all day.

I had a really shitty therapy appointment yesterday.  It has made me not want to even continue with it.  I am sick of therapy.  I am sick of being depressed.  I am sick of the anxiety obstacles.  Most of all I am sick of not living my life.  How fucking depressing it is to not live your life.  I had goals, I had dreams, stupid depression and anxiety always gets in the way.

I am sick of not moving forward but I don’t know how to move forward.  I feel so stuck in a rut I can’t even begin to imagine clawing my way close to out.  I am to the point where I am willing to completely immerse myself in the few things I still love and seeing what happens.  That means I actually have to try and not worry about the possibility of not succeeding.  Easy to type, not so easy to execute.

Fuck you depression! Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!

Anxiety & Me

i, Carla have an anxiety problem.

i, Carla loves to type.

i, Carla + anxiety + typing = iCarla Blogs.

I kind of don’t know what else to do with myself at this point.

I have been suffering with anxiety and anxiety related problems for over 15 years now.  I still remember my first attack as if it was yesterday.  It was horrifying.  At 16 years old I really believed I was dying – predominantly of a heart attack.  I had no idea what this tremendously bad feeling was nor where it came from.  I felt both physically and mentally sick.  I didn’t know wether I was going to throw up or pass out and my thoughts were a tunnel of doom and gloom.  Sweating, shaking, crying, all for no apparent reason.  It got to a point where I started fearing these attacks and would try to do anything to prevent or stop them.

Little did I know just how much these mysterious attacks would effect my life.  I did not even know what they were.  Back then not a lot of people seemed to know about anxiety problems, it took me years before I even heard the term “anxiety attack”.  And now my sense of fear and prevention have led me to a life I don’t want to live.

Currently I am extremely introverted.  I used to work and have had a variety of jobs but since late 2013 I have been unemployed.  I get extremely depressed to the point where I don’t leave the house for DAYS.  I am extremely anxious in social situations.  I don’t like strangers (I am 32 years old for crying out loud).  I am in therapy (and starting to hate it).  I have passed up and avoided more opportunities and situations then I care to remember and overall I feel like a gigantic loser.

I don’t know what to do anymore.  I have decided to start typing and see what happens.  Maybe somewhere, somehow, my words can help someone out there.