On perpetual transition and shutting out the excess noise

I was talking to my trainer recently about my struggles with getting and staying on track, both with workouts and with controlling my food intake. And I told him something I have mentioned offhand but I think is at the root of a lot of my issues. I have basically been in transition of some sort for the last two and a half years. 

I changed jobs. I started working out and overhauled the way I eat. My grandmother had a stroke. I lost 100 pounds. My grandmother died. I changed trainers three times. I applied and got accepted to graduate school. I started a serious relationship with someone. I changed my work hours...

And in less than two months, I start school.

These past two and a half years have basically been a stream of constant, fairly significant changes and those changes have really ramped up in the last six and a half months. I'm perpetually exhausted. I no longer have a normal. It's been impossible to adjust. And I struggle.

I don't mean to complain. Some of these changes have been wonderful. I love my boyfriend and I'm super excited to start school. Leaving work at 3:30 instead of 6 or later is pretty awesome. But positive or not, these are still changes and they still require getting used to. I was a "me" for more than a decade. Now I am a "we." I struggle with time management ... So let's throw in two graduate level courses. My brain tells me I should go to bed at 10. My body tells me to binge watch YouTube videos. I used to get up at 7 to get ready for work. Now I'm at work at 7. 

Really, can I just have things be status quo for a little bit? Just long enough to get into a comfortable routine. Is that so much to ask for? 

But that is not my current reality. Reality is that in less than two months I'll be spending six hours a week at my alma matter learning about human behavior while still juggling work and boyfriend and family and friends. 

J and I started working on a jigsaw puzzle. We have completely different approaches to completing it. I have an orderly approach, combing through bit by bit in search of edge pieces. He dumps them out in a big pile and scans them for the colors he wants. He said that's a metaphor for us. I tend to have moved along a straight path. His path has been less traditional. But right now, to me, my life looks less lined up and more like a pile of puzzle pieces. That pile of pieces works for him. It overwhelms me. I'm constantly evaluating everything. My goals, my values, and my priorities. Just trying to put the pieces together. It's a difficult state to constantly be in.

I decided to severely reduce some of the extra noise. I turned off the notifications on all of my social media accounts. I moved them to a different screen on my phone. I pop into Facebook for approximately two minutes a day and check my notifications (and for whatever posts my mom has mentioned to me). And then I'm done with it for the day. Same with Instagram and Snapchat. I used to check them obsessively. Now, much, much less so. 

These things can all be very useful tools. But they can also be huge, harmful distractions. I feel less anxious since I reduced my social media usage. The fear of missing out is greatly reduced when you have no idea what you're missing out on. I've been better able to live in my current moment, as opposed to someone else's carefully curated past moment. There's no comparing my life to someone else's.

I read a great article about dealing with the constant barrage of anxiety we are subjected to and the only way to deal is to recognize the feeling of anxiety and ask yourself: should I feel anxious about this? There is a biological reason to feel anxiety. But we aren't supposed to feel it 24/7. You have to learn when to say "this is not worth giving a fuck about." And then you have to actually not give a fuck about it. Social media is a recording of life, but it is not life. It is not helping me. And it's not worth giving a fuck about. 

Additional reading: Why Anxiety is the Plague of the Modern World http://www.cracked.com/blog/how-other-people-are-getting-rich-off-your-anxiety/

On feeling like an outsider

I've written before about my anxiety. I am generally an anxious person. I have a lot of social anxiety. Myers Briggs has me as an extrovert and it's true in a lot of ways but I have introverted tendencies as well. Certain social interactions can leave me feeling drained. I've never been good at small talk and feel quite awkward when I am required to do it. That's due in large part to social anxiety. I always feel like an outsider. 

It's probably not unusual that these feelings intensified during middle school. I was an especially awkward pre-teen and I desperately wanted to fit in. I never did. I never had the right hair style or clothes. I never said the right thing. If there were a common theme at that time, it would be rejection. It was a period where someone could be your best friend one day and suddenly seem to hate you the next. 

Middle school was a particularly heinous time. Things got better when I got to high school and fitting in stopped feeling so important. But that feeling of being an outsider was always there, even within my own group of friends. I'd wonder if they really liked me or if they just put up with me. Did they think I was annoying? Would they suddenly decide to cut me off? 

That feeling has followed me into adulthood. 

My life has been different since I met my boyfriend. It's been wonderful getting to know this person and I wouldn't trade the time we spend together for anything. But this addition to my life has meant less time for other things. I'm keenly aware that as he and I build our relationship, I have less time for my friends. When I start school next month, I'll have even less free time (that's another source of anxiety that could take up an entire blog post).

I am keenly aware of the impact on my other relationships. There was bound to be an impact because I had been single for a decade an suddenly I'm in this new relationship with this person I just connect with in a way I haven't with anyone else. We've become each other's best friend and we're together almost every day. 

I used to see my group of friends almost every day and now it's a lot less. And it's seemed to have changed the dynamics. I can't be everywhere at once. Time turner necklaces only exist in Harry Potter. 

With the change in dynamics, those social anxieties have been triggered all over again. And they've kept growing. Do my friends really like me? Did they decide I'm not worth the effort? Why don't they ask me to do things the way they used to?

The anxiety has me feeling suspicious. But it also has me feeling guilty. What did I do wrong? Did I say something wrong? Can I fix it? How do I fix it? And the suspicion: would they even want me too?

I've kind of let these feelings eat me alive. And I've never really voiced them until now. Because what if I'm wrong and I damage the relationship? Or worse, what if I'm right? What if I’m no longer included?

Note: the picture is by Beth Evans, who does a wonderful job capturing what mental illness feels like. Go find her on Instagram at @bethdrawsthings.