I'm just a fat gal with a blog and an opinion. Well, lots of opinions.

The thief of joy…among other things




“Anxiety is Evil!”

It really is Evil! Anxiety is the worst because it’s in your head but you can’t shut it off! I’ve never been diagnosed with anxiety or depression, I’ve never had therapy of that nature either. I’ve done a lot of self work and a lot of reading/research on my own issues (PTSD) and have done all I could to live my life as best as I could. Now that I’m living in my hometown again it feels like time can fold over onto itself without warning. This can be good and bad. For instance, I’ll turn onto a street and think, “Huh, I’m lost. Where the heck am I?” and then suddenly a memory will come to me and I’ll know exactly where I am. Mind fuck, yo!

18 years ago I left my hometown to escape an abusive relationship. I visited my family from time to time but eventually never looked back, for my own sake. Living just 30 miles south felt like a fresh start. It felt like sanctuary to suddenly be anonymous in a town I’d only heard of the day before I moved there. It became a life saver but more so a chance to actually build the life I wanted. It worked out, I’d say. I did build the life I’d wanted, but I’m not sure I was fully aware of it at the time. Looking back I can see it all laid out. I built a strong support system there. I feel the distance this move has created and it’s extremely difficult to live with that. I’m trying.

All I can do is try. When I wake up everyday since I moved (June 28th was my first night here), I hesitate to get out of bed. “You can try.” is what I tell myself when faced with this obstacle and many more. “You can try.” has become my internal mantra. I try to wake up and not freak out. I try to unpack. I try to eat. I try to stay hydrated and out of the sun (the unforgiving bastard). I try to grocery shop and function like a “normal” person. I try. Everyday anxiety is waiting there for me to not try. Anxiety is tapping my shoulder interrupting every “try” I can muster. Some days, it wins. I hate it.

“It’s Okay to take a Day for You!”

Those days I get little done. I try simple things like eating and hydrating. I fail. I cry. I struggle. I question everything in the universe. I hate myself. I talk to friends and try again and try to love myself and try self care and try and try and try. It’s hot. When it’s over 95 I get sick very easily and try to stay indoors. It’s hard. I’ve never lived alone, ever. Talking with my bf last night I realized that I’ve spent very little time alone at all until I moved in with my roommate 3.5 years ago and even still, it wasn’t until now that I am finally feeling the gravity of what living alone means and feels like. It is hard.


My shining knight in fawn-fur armor.

Anxiety lies to you and whispers the worst things possible into your ear. It has me looking over my shoulder whenever I leave the house. It has me questioning myself, my worth, my choices and my future. It robs me of everything. Anxiety makes simple yet important things, like caring for my puggo, all the more difficult. It takes every ounce of gumption and energy I have in me to simply drive to the grocery store. Once there I am already out of spoons and thus every side-eye, up-down and straight up rudeness penetrates deeper than it normally would. I am not my true self in this state. I see everyone and everything as something out to get me.

I’m lucky as hell and more grateful for all that I have than the English language could express. I love and am loved and my heart is full of so much goodness. Unfortunately, anxiety and memories of all that I thought I had processed and let go of are still there waiting for me here. A street sign, a landmark, a restaurant or tree can trigger a memory I don’t always have the ability to process or handle. I have to be careful with my time or it will get away from me and I’ll have accomplished nothing. Friends are kind and supportive, assuring me that moving is mega stressful and my injuries need to be honored and mitigated for self preservation. I struggle with every tiny thing.

Living alone means every sound is probably real but not having someone to verify except for the puggyman. He’s great, though. He’s settling in just fine and has made himself home in the main house with a new dog friend and my landlord (who hates that word LOL). My living situation is ideal and everyone is so kind. It’s not their fault that I’m broken inside. It’s not my fault, either. I don’t actually think pinning blame is the answer here. Yet I am amazed at how what I survived and left behind has remained fresh in the further reaches of my mind. Thanks PTSD, I’ll be sure to send a fruit basket…NOT!

What happened to me here? I’ve written about my abuse survival many times, but to sum it up for you, I was in an abusive relationship with an older man from the ages of 14-19. Every aspect of my life from what I wore, whom I spoke with and everything in  between was controlled by my abuser. He beat me up nearly everyday for five years. He took everything from me. I escaped, moved 30 miles away, and never looked back. Now, 18 years later, seeing those streets and signs and sights again, it’s all still there. It’s so real and yet, it’s not. He still lives here. I know the street name, but not the address. I don’t want to be tempted to try to find him. I don’t want to see him and don’t know how I would react if faced with him. It’s a shadow I’ve lived in for far too long, perhaps, but didn’t have to deal with where I lived before.

My boyfriend has been the most amazingly supportive person in the world! He’s become a sort of cheerleader for my new/old hometown, taking every opportunity to show me how awesome this place is. I catch glimpses of his view, but only fleeting ones. Everything has dark, ragged edges that threaten to steel my life away again. Wow. I haven’t been able to articulate that until now. Whew. That’s heavy. Shit. *Breathes* That is how it feels. It feels like a black hole trying desperately to suck me back into misery.

I will work through this. I have a great support system. Thank the stars for the internet!!! It will just take a lot of time and patience. I have barely unpacked a thing. Friends tell me they can see I’m making progress; they are too kind. I know it will come together in the end and I’ll be so happy with my little cottage. I have so much to be happy and grateful for, and I am! I just have to figure my shit out somehow. I mostly keep to myself anyway, but more so now than ever, it feels necessary. I will keep trying.

Vulnerably yours,

This blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (body positive):
My barely used Instagram:
And as always, feel free to drop me a line in comments here, or write me (I’d also be up for snail mail exchanging):


posted under Uncategorized
5 Comments to

“The thief of joy…among other things”

  1. On July 20th, 2015 at 5:53 pm Jery Says:

    If I wasn’t stuck in a contract with the Salinas show, I would drop it and visit you at least once a week.
    I know that I get anxious, but it has never been to this extent. I am sorry that you are having to deal with all of this. Makes me sad that you know how wonderful you are and yet the little voice is there.
    I don’t know if this will help you, but my anxiety is most noticeable when I have to be around theatre people or after shows and also parties. Mostly because i feel socially inadequate and insecure. But, I stop and think. Did it ever occur to me that some of these people might feel the same way and all we are doing is hiding ourselves from each other?
    Yes, that is a possibility. That helps me relax a little.
    And sometimes a little is like that foot you get into the door to open it all the way.
    I hope this wave passes soon.
    Love you, lady!!!!

  2. On July 21st, 2015 at 5:48 pm Not Blue at All Says:

    Jery: Thank you. I really appreciate it. You are one of my dearest friends for a reason, though more like a sibling. LOL! <3
    The thing is, I know all of this. Intellectually I know it's a mental hiccup, if you will, but it doesn't help in the moment, ya know? I'll figure it out. Always do.

  3. On July 31st, 2015 at 7:49 am Rosie Says:

    Thank you for sharing so eloquently about something so personal and difficult. I’m very sorry that you are suffering in this way. It is definitely understandable to me why your trauma and anxiety are being activated by cues in your environment, as you are surrounded by direct and indirect reminders of the abuse you survived. You seem to have a firm grasp on what’s causing that as well. But you say that you “can’t turn off” the anxiety once it is activated, and that’s where I wonder if some therapy could actually be of use. I don’t know what your economic situation is, and I know not everyone has access to professional help in that sense. I just wanted to encourage you, if it is at all possible, to explore the possibility. PTSD and anxiety disorders are often very responsive to therapy. If you are worried about having to re-live the trauma by talking about it in therapy, you might look into EMDR, a modality that doesn’t require extensive verbal processing of the trauma story. I hate for you to feel like you have such little power over this. I’m glad to know you have such supportive people in your life, and I love your optimism and hope. Wishing you much luck, peace, and joy as your journey unfolds.

  4. On September 9th, 2015 at 3:34 pm Not Blue at All Says:

    Rosie: Thank you for your kind words. I have been out of work since May and the unemployment benefits I do receive barely cover my basic necessities. I do not have access to any health care at the moment, mental or physical. I have never been diagnosed except by myself and through my own research and self work/exploration. I have never seen a therapist and certainly wish I could have when I escaped my abusive relationship.

  5. On September 9th, 2015 at 5:03 pm NotBlueAtAll » Blog Archive » Surviving the Survival Says:

    […] and honestly doing much better than my previous post would lead one to believe.  (Referring to this and even more so this […]

Email will not be published

Website example

Your Comment:

Subscribe to my feed