Consider my last post an interlude. I thought about deleting it or at least changing the title so it fit my alliteration alphabet but I've since decided to leave it as is. Trying to stay filter free here.
Oddly, on mornings such as these, this public blog that I share with the world somehow seems more private than the paper ones I write my darkest thoughts into. Maybe it's because on here, I don't vomit out every crazy thought I have. I suppose I do have some kind of filter, though it's more like a shoddy strainer for sifting out shit. Other than that, generally everything that I write is pretty direct brain to fingers and as I'm sure you've noticed by the spelling and grammar errors, I don't bother to go back and edit. I've always hated editing my own junk. Though oddly I enjoy doing it to others. Probably has something to do with how I'm a control freak perfectionist when it comes to literally everything except my own writing. This is the one activity where I feel safe enough to just let go.
Letting go is actually something I'm working crazy hard on. My focus until very recently was being a positive, healthy person and reduce anxiety. I'm still striving for that but I've practiced it enough, I believe, that it's become more second nature. Come to think of it, I haven't had a major panic attack in at least a week. Truth be told however I believe this has more to do with me being back at work than me practicing positive thought. Having purpose enriches me. Getting out of my house elates me. Making money is a pretty nice perk. God knows I need it.
No, now I'm channeling the majority of my energy towards accepting things I can't change and understanding that perfection doesn't exist. As much as I struggle to not obsess over every little detail, I'm getting better with each day. Working alongside older people helps me practice this every day - they are wise, well traveled and interesting but occasionally frustrating when it comes to technology. I enjoy their company immensely and each day I learn new things from them but God damn can't you just pick up the mouse and move it, don't keep dragging it across the counter.
See? Little nitpicky nonsense that shouldn't matter. It doesn't hurt anyone and while it's not necessarily the most efficient way to do things, there are surely things that I do that aren't quick or clever as what they are capable of doing. When a piece of art doesn't work out the way I was planning, I pause, take a deep breath and keep going. When I'm told a piece of information that makes my blood curdle, I pause, take a deep breath, and try to comprehend what would drive someone to do such a thing. When I consider the mountain of things I have to complete, I pause, take a deep breath and break it down piece by piece.
Since being more positive about things required me to practice mindfulness, this has been coming relatively easy to me. It's the same basic principle of correcting previous negative behaviors or thoughts but just in different situations.
The downside to this - or maybe more accurately the kink I haven't quite worked out - is that in an effort to say calm, some scenarios push my buttons so hard that I'm incapable of articulating how I really feel and as a result I end up bottling up those frustrated emotions. The other day a coworker came up behind me and pulled on my ponytail. I calmly turned around and asked them politely not to touch my hair. Six years go, I slapped a girl across the face for doing the exact same thing. I'd call that progress. Not only because I didn't freak out but I actually vocalized my discomfort. It seems small but for me this was a huge step. Unfortunately, this was an exception - not the rule. While not freaking out on someone is good, you don't truly let go just by shoving your emotions down inside of you. They have to be acknowledged and the only real way to do that is to address the things that stress you out. After that, once you've made an attempt to resolve the problem (I say attempt because not everything is fixable and other things turn out not being worth the effort to fix), then you can truly let go.
This is not the post I intended on writing but it's the one that came out. It's significantly less interesting than what I had planned for you - a thrilling tale of your brain fluid swelling up so much that you speak nonsense words, spinal taps and being on so much morphine you think your IV machine is a dinosaur. That will have to wait for another day since my phone is so incredibly difficult to write on that I can't stand typing for much longer. I'll throw in the details of the illness I had as a child that the medical community had believed was eradicated to make up for the wait.
Until next time. I've got birthday bash to throw.