Kinda relevant XKCD
MrShankles
joined 2 years ago
Perception is notoriously difficult to quantify in any meaningful way
And I appreciate it. First time for me
I really really wish I could... I can try as much as I want, but I really wish I had words for it. It's complicated, and I truly wish there were a silver bullet, but I got lucky
I think "breathing" has become one of the most important things I've learned. Didn't honestly realize "breathing" was such a big part of me dealing with things until I was already an adult (realized in my 30's)
When I was little, I was prone to "tantrum throwing"; but I wasn't "allowed" to do that (not just by fear of consequences, but it hurt my feelings afterward). While I was in a tantrum and wanted to break the world, people whom I loved were calm with me; trying to make me realize that it didn't make a difference, no matter how much I raged... and it kinda broke me
I had to learn how to control my "rage" and my emotions. And I kinda think (now) that I learned how to do that by breathing through it; cause it didn't matter if I threw a fit or not, the outcome was ultimately the same. The only person hurting was me, because of me... regardless of what set me off. My headaches, face-red, violent thought, shaking mad at the unfairness; it was all dependent on me and whether I chose to let it take over me or not.
And it turned out that (to me) "love" didn't care how physically strong I wanted to be... how angry I could be. "Love" was patient with me and waited for me. "It" didn't care how big I acted... it just waited. It pretty much broke me and my childhood tantrums/rage, and I started fostering patience... not easily, but steadily.
Instead of wanting to punch down a brick wall... I breathed through it. If you pissed me off... I paused, and breathed before responding. Breathing is about the best I got, but I try to choose that over losing control and hurting my own head.
Fast-forward to being an adult: I had learned a lot of emotional control. I still have that rage and I wish I didn't; but I do my best to breathe through it. And spoiler alert: I don't always win. I would LIKE to break that brick wall (cause I'm strong/mad/worthwhile/something to prove), but I'll only hurt myself in the end and help no one else. It's a lose-lose for me to lose control. So I breathe and try not to engage with my racing thoughts
But I did learn triggers. I hate looking for shit... I can't stand it. I don't want to waste 2 seconds of my life looking for my keys or wallet. I only have so much patience and my brain is already against me trying to focus. So my wallet and keys are in the same place EVERY time without fail. It they aren't... I better start breathing while I search. I have to remember "patience" and "breathing" while I try to focus
I use earplugs when I'm overwhelmed by sounds and stimulus. Just 5 minutes of silence and (once again) breathing; and then I can usually resume my thoughts.
I finally allowed myself to ask my doctor for an anti-anxiety medication (klonopin for me) when I was 33. I didn't want to be addicted or crutched, and wanted to be able to deal with it like I always did... but I really wish I would have asked for help sooner. I felt silly when I realized how much it helped. I felt silly when i realized how much Adderall helped. I didn't want to "rely on a crutch", because I had learned (over many years) how to rely on me. And I felt silly... dumb... ignorant... stupid for wasting so much energy fighting against my own damn head
I need my things (like my wallet, keys, toothbrush, hairtie, etc) to be in the same place EVERY TIME, so I don't have to waste focus on finding them. If they get moved; I try to breath through it while I find them
If things get "noisy" and overwhelming, I pop in some earplugs for a few minutes; and I sit in silence and breath.
When I want to just POP!, because my brain doesn't let me move forward and adjust... more breathing.
I lose things, as I'm finding/gathering other things; I get frustrated because I can't hear or because I hear too much; I forget faces, names, thoughts, ideas, or sometimes blank completely; I get frustrated. I get angry because I'm frustrated. And it ain't nobody's fault how I feel or why I feel... it's something I have to deal with as best I can. So I breathe through it the best I can
It sucks. It really fucking sucks sometimes. But it's also ok. Sometimes it's beautiful, and sometimes it's awful; the way my brain works. But it's mostly ok.
And I'm ok with that. I like me (enough). I just have to really remember and remind myself to breathe sometimes. It's ok. I'm ok. Look at all these little good things happening all around me, all of the time. Let me try and be a part of that little bit of good. Inhale. Exhale. I'm ok
TL;DR - I use breathing exercises, routine, and mental gymnastics. It'll all end up the same in the end, so I might as well try and enjoy the "good things" that feel more than superficial... for as long as I can. Cause fuck it; the only person it matters to is me, in the end. I guess it is what I make it
I enjoy a little higher thc to cbd ratio (personally) if I'm going to be up and about, but it entirely depends on what's going on with me that day. Sometimes I need something more chill; and having the option is what I would absolutely love.
My current option is: whatever I can find, plus the underlying anxiety I get if I choose to indulge (because of job fear). And we are very much of the same opinion about why it's still federally illegal
Our dachshund is 14, epileptic and has degenerative disc disease. The old man doesn't give one single fuck. He's all black and burrows under blankets (or whatever he can find to root in, like a black t-shirt).
I have almost broken my life and limb on so many occasions, because I go to take a step... and holy hell, it's a weiner dog under there! But I don't want to step on him and hurt him, so instead I have to kinda go limp to avoid him.
He's our dog that will trip tf outta you, and he firmly expects for you to evade... because he ain't moving. He has little handicap ramps and everything, for him to go outside, because we love him... but hot damn, that dog EXPECTS you to know to watch out for HIM.
He has us well trained, ngl
Our big dog will sometimes run between your legs when going outside. He's the sweetest giant oaf, but he's too big (and kinda dumb) to understand any consequences of what he's doing. We try to mutually watch out for each other, but he gets excited sometimes and isn't afraid (or aware?) to throw his weight around.
But on the other hand, it really seems like he understands something we don't. The dog stares at clouds while his ears blow in the wind and lays down with 5 week foster kittens (never steps on them, but apparently WE'RE fair game). He's our buddah dog
When my dog was a puppy, he used to always be under my feet (because he's needy and the best). And he still kinda does it, but he understands the risks now
But when he was still learning: I was walking out the kitchen one day and he came from the side hall... and I was just walking, not trying to train. My poor dude got fully kicked by my stride, kinda literally body slammed into the wall. Like, foot to whole body... lifted and kicked against the wall :(
And he learned something that day... watch the fuck out, for self-preservation's sake. We never had an issue like that again. I never tripped over him anymore; he instead learned how to maneuver. He'll still get under the feet sometimes, but he never gets "kicked". My dude learned that day, how to be aware and dodge.
He's currently sniffing under the bathroom door while I poop and type this. He's old now, and I'm heading to bed, so I'ma scoop him up into my bed and give him some snugs.
So yeah, never any ankle-breaking tripping after that little lesson, but still my needy boy. Did I mention he's the best?
I appreciate the info, I'ma have to look him up and his research. I would like to try Vyvanse now that they have a generic version; see if it planes me out a little better. I did quit smoking for 2 years once, so I know I can do it again. It's kind of a mental gymnastics thing lol
I say "addictive personality", but it's absolutely genetics (or highly genetically linked). It's like being aware that your family has a history of cardiac issues... mine has a history of addiction. I should try and retrain my brain to say, "I have a family history of addiction". But I appreciate the read!
Maybe? A higher thc ratio helps me more and I'm not quite sure if mixing delta 8 and cbd would help me in my daily life. It'd probably be good to help me sleep, but that's not really an issue of mine.
But I'm not sure, I just keep holding out for a time when it's legal and I can try different blends/ratios that would actually help, without fear of trace amounts of thc popping up in a test. It becomes an anxiety issue because it's tied to my career/livelihood, and kinda defeats a key aspect of how it helps. It's all dumbshit in the end
Same, thought it might go in a different direction