clearer head?

Yesterday I had counseling with C. and it was really intense. We were talking about issues of conflict, one giant one in particular, and I became really upset and agitated and cried and in the middle of it said "I feel like my head is going to explode" and then I had a spontaneous nosebleed. A big one. Weird. I felt strangely calm and really alert afterwards, because I had admitted some stuff while I was in that incredibly hard place that helped me to see why I was feeling so much trepidation over the issue that we were discussing. I was really painfully brutally honest with myself and also my grrl and the counselor. It was crazy hard and also really freeing and empowering.

I have been plagued by depression for a long time, and the past year and a half have been especially awful. When I lost my position at Medieval Times and had to leave, it was the beginning of the end. I spiraled down into a dark place, and while I tried to keep my head above water, more often than not I would sink, and although I could look up and see myself reflected in the mirror of the surface, I could not muster the wherewithal to break through and return to my positive, joyful, hopeful headspace. I tried all of my coping techniques- exercise, good food, enough rest, social interaction, and although each would have a little bit of a positive result, in the end I found myself turning inward and getting darker and sinking deeper. I got quieter, more anxious, less confident.... I became a shadow of the strong handsome smart silly witty creative sexy creature who rode horses for a living and loved life.
I walk through life nowadays as if I wear a mask when I am outside my home, so as not to reveal my truth to strangers. When I return home to the place that should be safe and warm and comforting, I mostly feel crowded and irritated and in chaos. I want to be able to enjoy time with my sweetheart, and play in our little home, and make it beautiful and restful and an oasis. Right now all I want to do is retreat to my room where at least I can keep things in order the way I like them, even if it seems OCD to my lovergrrl.... it is the only place in my home that I feel at ease, and even there sometimes I feel like the walls are closing in.
Sometimes, when I am at my wit's end and exhausted by life and keeping up appearances, I fantasize about blinking out like a little lightning bug *poof* and not having to deal with anything anymore. I have felt that, off and on, for many many years as well, but I have never come close to acting on my thoughts. Still, it is unsettling to have them.
I am going to start taking meds for my depression. Celexa, to be exact. I tried Effexor a while back (2 yrs?) and I felt really spacy and stoned and gross on it, and stopped after a week. I will give this stuff a little longer, and I hope it helps. I do not want to lose all of the good things in my life because of bad brain chemistry.
I want to be my best, and build my little fixie project over the winter, and walk to work, and make journals, and get stronger still, and love my Grrl, and find a way to go back to school, and stand up to MT in the tribunal, and not be paralyzed by anxiety and self loathing and sadness.
I want to find myself, the Eli who I know exists, but who has been lost for a while.
I deserve to be happy, and loved.

Heavy workout bliss

Today I did the following in my workout:

I did one arm cleans with first a 30 ( 1st set) and then a 35 lb ( 2nd and 3rd sets) dumbell.

FYI, a clean is a movement whereby one picks up a weight and, using the entire body, uncoils from a high squat to lift the weight overhead. Usually it is done with two hands and an Olympic bar. Today we did it one armed, just for fun. I did 3 sets of 5 reps apiece.

Following that, I did suitcase deadlifts. And overhead plate presses. The deadlifts were one sided (one then the other) using a 50 lb dumbbell, and named because the movement is similar to lifting a suitcase. The plate presses were kinda like a push press, only utilizing a 20 kg plate instead of a bar. These exercises were done one right after the other. It was tiring and fabulous.

Following that I did a series that involved pull ups from the floor ( bar set up in a squat rack so that I was on the floor, then, with palms facing out, pulled up for 8 reps. Not as easy as it sounds), swiss ball planks w/ knee strikes (kneeing ball alternately for 20 total reps) and then seated 10 kg medicine ball throws up in the air. Each exercise was performed 3 times, with a short break after each set.

For the finale, I pushed a 160+ lb sled from one end of the gym to the other (about 20 meters).

It was an ass-kicker and I loved it.

I love exercise.

I love being strong.

Yay me.

Tear me open again

Medieval Times saga continues. There are always two sides to every story, and they deny any wrongdoing on their part. The truth is twisted to suit the point of view. It's always the way. There is MY truth and there is their truth and the REAL truth.... well, some would say it is somewhere in the middle ground.

I feel like my thick deeply rooted scar is now torn open, hanging loosely from my chest on the threads of hope that I had before I got their reply...threads of wishing they would just admit their wrong and apologize. That would be too simple. Now my heart is laid bare again, bleeding all over, hot hurt and anger and grief and deep deep sadness darkeningstaining everything red drying to rusty flakes on my skin. I smell of iron and leather and sweat and I used to smell like horses and happiness.

I have been in this place before- trying desperately to find a replacement for the thing I have lost.

I have lost sight of the hopeful open trusting heart that I cavorted through life with, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, seeing the best instead of the worst... I suspect that heart is still somewhere, but it is smaller, hiding in shadows and wrapped into itself, and afraid.

Now I feel as if I am on my own, with no joyful companion to walk beside me. One foot in fromt of the other, heavy steps, head hanging, eyes are darker.

I do not reveal myself easily. I do not trust motive or intention.

I have become aware that what I see as truth is often just a mirage.

I am too angry to give up.

too heartbroken

heartbroken