Homesickness, Anxiety, and Other Ailments

A thousand years ago, I promised you wonderful peoples a post about my anxiety and stress and how I've been struggling to keep hold of my wits lately. And then I never wrote it because when I'm battling my stress levels, I tend to neglect the things I love to do most. I let the necessary obligations rule (because, what choice do you have?) and any free time is spent trying to recuperate and rest. The last thing I want to do after being anxious and stressed all day or all week is use up any more brain space I might possibly have left. 

The sad part of that is if I'd make myself write or take photos, I'd probably be happier. Thus is the constant dilemma of the creative person who needs to pay the bills. I never even posted the gazillion photos I took of the snow. They're just sitting on my hard drive, forgotten and lonely and cold (they're cold because they're of snow. duh). 

And it's not even my job per se. It's me. I can't seem to handle the smallest amount of lately, though this isn't the first time I've been through this. The last time I had major issues with stress and anxiety, it was due to other things that I hadn't dealt with. I'm fairly certain that's the case this time as well and one can only overanalyze herself so long before cracking up. 

I really do need professional help sorting through it all and I've been looking for a therapist, but, so far, nobody is taking new patients. Do we just not have enough therapists in Portland? There's certainly a surplus in LA, so what's the deal? I did get a couple of recommendations from friends and I'm waiting to hear back if they take my insurance. Cross all your appendages, people!

It often feels silly that I'm struggling when all seems to be going well in my world. I'm with the best man I've ever known and he's been impossibly supportive and patient through all this, something I don't always know what to do with because I've never been treated so well. I have a decent job with many duties that I truly enjoy doing. And, of course, no work is without stress and I've been wondering what's wrong with me that I can't handle any sort of stress. Maybe, even though I'm capable of a lot, even though I'm creative and intelligent, maybe I can't handle putting so much of myself into my work. Does that make sense? I'm the type of person who does her work 100%, but what room does that leave for any personal happiness? I really struggle (and have always struggled) with how to maintain that balance. 

At any rate, it's easy to fantasize that a mystery relative with bequeath me a fortune and I can be self employed and just write and take photos and travel. Wouldn't that be the life? Le sigh. 

I'm sure a lot of this stress and anxiety is due to issues popping back up again, my childhood abuse, my adoption. Certainly a major part is that I spent most of my youth trying to earn a love that my mother would never give and I've found myself in a loving relationship and I think, deep down, I'm scared as hell of fucking it up (you know, because it was always "my fault" that my mom beat the shit out of me). I'm running ragged trying to keep it all in place. When it's most probably not that fragile at all. But I can't help but revert back to past fears because that's what one does. 

Hello, therapists! Hello? 

And, I have to say, I'm really homesick. When I moved from California to Oregon, I never anticipated that I would get homesick or that it would be such a production to go back to visit. It's a long way! California is a long-ass state, yo! So not only does it take a pretty chunk of change, I have to make the most of it and see every person in every city in the LA and San Bernardino area. It's a production. 

We are planning a trip down there this summer. We've been talking about it forever and, dammit, we have to make it happen. Boyfriend hasn't met anyone really and I need to see them too and, of course, we must go to Disneyland. Obvi.

I don't miss most of it. I still maintain my reasons for leaving, namely the heat and smog, but also a faster, more shallow way of life. 

Would YOU miss that? COUGH COUGH

I love Portland in so many ways. But it's truly difficult being so far from most of my friends and family. At least one of my best friends is here! I don't know that I could deal without her, because I don't actually have all that many good friends here. Sure, I have friends and I have my boyfriend's friends and we hang out and have a good time, but that doesn't compare to the lifelong friendships and connections I left behind, people who just know me so well. I miss them like mad.  

It doesn't help that Portland traffic is making me crack up. Honestly, I never thought that, after battling the Los Angeles freeways, I'd complain about traffic in sleepy little Portland, but I am. It's not the gridlock of major cities - it's the people. 

It's the drivers, the bicyclists, the pedestrians. Either people don't know the rules of the road here or they just don't give a fuck. There's no zoning out on the drive because you never know what someone will do. I have near misses every single day, no exaggeration. I'll almost hit a pedestrian who runs in front of my car. I'll almost hit a cyclist who runs a red light. I'll almost hit many many many cars who cut me off and drift into my lane and run stop signs and do crazy illegal things you would never think someone would do. EVERY DAY. Just this morning, I was cut off three times by cars and had to stop for two pedestrians sauntering across a 4 lane highway. Sauntering. Like they owned the goddamn world. 

And that's not even counting how many times I've nearly been roadkill by cars or bikes while I'm walking. I understand why people jaywalk here because crosswalks offer no protection. It's no wonder Portland is known for its great mass transit. They have to have reliable buses and trains because nobody here knows how to FUCKING DRIVE. Don't get me started on merging. 

Deep breaths. I'm getting all worked up just thinking about it. 

Clearly the answer to all my problems is money. I need to be rich so I can afford a helicopter to take me places (or, better yet, teleportation). And if I'm that rich, I won't need to work so I'll have less stress and I can afford any therapist I want to deal with my issues. AND I can afford to travel anywhere I want and bring anyone I want along. 

See? Money really can buy happiness. 

How is it July already?

I didn't come to post today with any clear plan of what to talk about. I just haven't posted in like weeks and weeks because I've been totally way busy with life and work and travel and, while I certainly can't complain about that, I did miss writing.

I haven't even posted photos over at Double A Photography in forever because I haven't even had time to edit and upload all the images I have dawdling on my computer. I have more photos of nature than I could possibly know what to do with. You're getting some here today. You're welcome.

Anyway, when I haven't written in a while, I start to feel a little manic, a little crazy. I get all cranky because I don't feel right, like I'm not quite in my body. Inevitably, it's because I haven't made time to download my brain in writing. That and I get all social burn out. I totally had that this week.

Two weekends ago, Eminem and I spent the weekend in the Colombia Gorge hiking and eating and wandering and being awesome.

Real live Bald Eagle we saw at a bird show at Skamania Lodge

Then last weekend, we went to Idaho for a wedding, where I learned that 104 degree dry summers aren't exclusive to inland Southern California. We lounged by the pool and drank some drinkies and got just sunburned enough to show our battle scars but not too much that we would be miserable on the flight home. Win! 

At the wedding.
My sunglasses don't fit my face because my *real* sunglasses broke and I had to buy gas station ones.
Sigh.

Then the next day, I had to go white water rafting for "research," as in my company is going to do a corporate trip and it was my duty to see what it was all about. Poor me. I might be totally lucky to have found a job again that lets me do fun things. Knock on wood!

Me on the back left side there. With the slightly sunburned arm.

I have to say, though, by the time July 4th rolled around, I was damned tired. I was also a little sore from rafting. So I was glad to have a mellow day of sitting around and eating food with just my man and I was even a little testy and cranky to him. Poor guy. There just comes a point where I can't talk any more. Not even one word.

I might also have been a bit hormonal because I took my bc pill like way off schedule during all my traveling and so I started my period just the teeniest bit, but enough to remember the uterus crushing horror that are the cramps one gets when her lady parts are a three ring circus run by the animals.

So by Friday night, when most of my friends were enjoying their 4 day weekend with drinks and social social time, I was curled up with my cat in bed, eating junk food, and enjoying the brilliance that is Sherlock. Damn that show is brilliant.

And then Eminem and I spent the weekend not much differently. We ran a few errands and then planted ourselves firmly on our asses and moved only to eat and hydrate. It was glorious. It takes a special man to share an entire weekend of laziness with you. I love that man.

Having a job is clearly bad for your health

It's my second post in a week! Wha? Are you people loving my unemployment or what?

I have to say, it's not been hard to slip into. I always hear people who talk about how they could never work from home or couldn't not go to a job every day, but I think those people are rationalizing having to go to a job every day. AmIright?

I've been busy! I don't get bored, because I have tons to do and I get to do it in my pajamas or jeans or from my bed or a coffee shop. I've been working on my new website (please go check it out!) and ordering business cards and looking for work like crazy and (!) I've been exercising. Shocking, I know. With all the health stuff that had been happening the last year or so, it feels so great to have time to go for a long walk or hike and, now that it's rainy in Portland again, work out in my living room. And not being chained to a desk? So much better for my ever-widening ass, regardless of what my boyfriend says about how bootilicious I am.

I hate those people who talk about their workouts or get all sanctimonious about their health, but I have to say that I think the one big detriment to my health was work! Now that I have time to exercise and less stress and I've been getting sleep (both because I'm not stressed about going to work, but also because I don't have to get up at 6am), I feel great! Sure, I don't have any money and I have to hustle like karazay to get an income (hello, unemployment, ugg), but I feel good.

When I first moved to Portland, I worked from home for almost a year and it was the most glorious year of my life, second to living in France, bien sur. Today, I walked down to a coffee shop and met with my financial advisor (yes, I have one. I DID use to have a job after all.) and we talked about my plans and got my investments in order for this new phase, which also felt great! And now I'm sitting in the shop doing some writing and drinking a ginourmous tea and then I'll look for more work and then who knows! Maybe I'll clean my house or something.

I think I'm scaring the other coffee shop people

And then because I don't have much money, I have to be economical with my food purchasing, which ends up being healthier in a sense. It's cheaper to buy a bag of potatoes or rice and a block of cheese and maybe some eggs and make those stretch than eat fast food, which seems cheap but isn't. And, because I was raised pretty durn poor, I'm good at cooking those types of foods. Sure, I suck at cooking fancy foods, but I can't afford fancy ingredients right now anyway. And, again, I apologize if I sound sanctimonious, because mama loves a good burger and fries (oh yes she does), but being forced to cook more is helping my waistline.

I know I'm not FAT per se (I know okay? so stop telling me.), but I did gain a lot of weight this past year (blame it on being in love) and while I'm not in danger yet, I could easily get really fat if I don't change a few things. This year it's 25 pounds and then next year it's 30 and then the next thing I know, I'll be sewing my own mumus because no stores even make my size. A girl just has to keep that in check.

Besides, I can't afford to shop right now so it behooves me to not gain any weight. Because, you know, what would I wear?

Brilliant segue.

I know I never updated anyone on my health/bladder situation, so here it is. I saw a bladder-gyno specialist (I forget his real title) and got the most uncomfortable exam of my life (though he was very kind and comforting) and discovered parts of my lady bits that I didn't even know existed (ugg) and he asked me a thousand questions and I had to keep a urinary diary (double ugg) and then consensus is that it's one of three (or two) things.

First, I'm not getting actual bladder infections (UTIs), but it could be an infection of the urethra or some other place with a big name that I can't remember but which wouldn't show up in a urinalysis. And there's no way to know if that's the case unless I get another infection.

The other thing it could be is endometriosis, which I know I have around my uterus and ovaries and apparently it's possible to attach to my bladder as well. Hooray.

Because I'm unemployed now, however, I also don't have insurance. So this great doctor saw fit to prescribe me antibiotics that target the lady parts, which I filled a couple weeks ago and can keep on hand in case another "infection" comes up. If those clear it up, that's probably what it is.

If those don't clear it up, it's probably endo, which the doc would first use a scope to look inside my bladder and/or do a laparoscopy to clean it all up (which would happily include my uterus too), but which is a minimally invasive procedure (still not awesome), and which I'd still need insurance to pay for. Zoinks.

And even though I've known about my endo for years and years, I've chosen not to have a laparoscopy because I prefer to manage with birth control pills, which I take continuously so as not to have a period. Glory be. And my old doc wanted to wait until I wanted to get preggers (because it gives you a fertility window), which he always wanted more than me, the judgey prick, but since I have no plans to get knocked up any any any time soon, I really didn't see the benefit when I can just skip my periods.

Of course, if it's causing my bladder issues, that's another story. But, again, insurance. Health care is so fucked.

But! I've been feeling good and maybe with my new, laissez faire lifestyle, I won't get sick and this is all moot. One can hope right?

Before I leave you, I'll beg you once again to go check out my new photography website and then go like the facebook page and then please tell your friends! Mama needs work! Me love you long time.

Ch ch ch chaaaanges

Hideyho, friends. It has been an insane month, which is why I haven't written. Like at all. Because I was dealing with the madness. All the madness.

So much madness.

As of last Thursday, I am officially an unemployed person. For reasons which I can't even get into and to which I've come to terms. It wasn't easy, let me tell you what. I really struggled with this for a while and I felt my toes dipping into the pool of depression, which I don't think is unreasonable. Anyone would get sad and scared and feel a bit lost when making a huge life change and also face the possibility of not supporting oneself.

I don't think it's unreasonable to avoid homelessness. That's really all I ask.

Not that my friends and fam would actually let me be literally homeless. But you get what I mean.

And I was grieving the job I worked so hard to fit in to for the past two years. You work so hard to make yourself one way and when it turns out that it's not actually possible to change yourself, it's a bit of a hard fall. Sometimes you can't make yourself fit if you just don't fit.

And I've decided that's okay. The bottom dollar is that it's not just about my happiness or following my dreams or whatever, which are important and which I'm going to do, but if I'm not the person for the job, then I won't succeed. I can't set myself up to fail anymore and so I won't. I'll follow my passion and work my ass off to do so and hopefully the money follows.

And that passion is photography. And writing and any creative endeavors I find, of course. But it's all about the photography. I think, I know, I have a talent for it and it's work that I do well because I love doing it. It makes me truly happy.

So I am looking for some steady employment in the mean time, but the end goal is professional photographer.

I can do it all, from weddings to engagement sessions to family, baby, and pet portraits, to business photography like head shots and real estate photography. Because I'm just starting out, my rates are reasonable and I'll work with you to find an affordable package for your budget.

Tell your friends! I'll need YOUR help to make it as a photographer and I'm counting on your support, friends. I've appreciated you guys so much over the years and I know you're in my corner.

There's a link to my photo site in the top navigation (expect a more dynamic site as I start to make money) or you can find it here. Also, please go like my photography facebook page! And you can still find me on Twitter @andygirl.

I'll be blogging more here as well, at least that's the plan, and you can still find me at Spocket Ink.

Working Girl

Tomorrow I start a new job! Hooray for a steady paycheck!

A new job in a very chi chi office where I get to wear cute businessy outfits. I've already bought new shoes.  And they are adorbs.

No more working from bed, but I'm excited to go downtown five days a week like a big girl.

I'm nervous because I know the learning curve will be steep, but excited because I think this will be a great opportunity for me.

I intend to try to keep the same posting pace on my blog and you can still find me three days a week at Sprocket Ink. I hope. I may take a couple days off the blog here and there until I get my groove at the new job.

But, since this is a chi chi office, I won't be able to spend any time during the day on the Twitter or FB or reading blogs. Please forgive me for that. I'll do my best to keep up with you all.

Wish me luck!

she works hard for the money

*WHEW* My BIG EVENT is oh vee ee are! (that spells over, in case you were having trouble deciphering) Yes, the weekend-long event is over and it went very well for the most part. Friday evening was my baby, a big chi chi event that we put on every year and I get to be in charge of it. Now, many people help with many details and I want to go on record saying that I couldn't do any of it without the help of so many people. A lot of these people go unrecognized, but I recognize them. They make my job possible.

And this evening? This is honestly my most stressful but absolutely favorite night of the year. And without giving away what it is because I'm still trepidatious to talk about my job in detail, I'll just say a few things. I love this because it makes people happy. We recognize 11 amazing people and I love putting together all of the crazy details, the seating chart, slideshows, decorations, catering, entertainment, logistics, presentations, etc, etc.

You know why? Because I am totally and completely selfish. When I see the these people and their families with those smiles, I know they feel appreciated and that makes it all worth it. They are a part of a much bigger entity than me, but I get to be the person who puts it all together, who gets to know them so personally as I make the preparations, and makes their evening special. It makes all the planning and details completely worth it. And that makes me feel great. And, if I may brag for a moment here, I've received nothing but compliments. And that of course also makes me feel great. But not just because it's good to hear something you've put together is "incandescent," (which someone actually said!), but also because I know that means they had a good time, enjoyed themselves and the environment, and that means my job is well done.

Oh, did I mention the hot bartender? Hot. Bartender. I definitely wedged some impromptu flirting into the evening where I could. And he kept me in supply of soda, one glass of wine, then water. Did I mention that he was hot? Hot. Really hot. I'm not gonna lie, after the last month, it made me feel like Giselle to be checked out by Hot Bartender. Oh baby.

Saturday was a blur of events and running around and HEAT (ohmigod, Southern California! What the hail is up with the heat? IT IS OCTOBER! Get colder already!Damn.) and people and talking and even laughter. There were only a few minor glitches, nothing I'd even call snafus even. It all went as smoothly as it could and as that's unusual for a big weekend like this, I'd say I'm very pleased. Saturday morning, though, I woke up at 5 am (I set my alarm for 6) because I couldn't breathe out of either nostril and head felt like it was going to implode. I guess that cold I had been fighting off decided to kick in right then. So I drug my sorry ass out of bed early, started an epsom salts bath (for my achy feet from wearing heels on Friday. See: chi chi event above) and inhaled the steam until I could breathe. So, I got a whole hour's less sleep than I wanted to start my big day, but I didn't really feel it until Saturday night.

Saturday night. What a night. We had a party planned. All the details set. Deejay, food, twinkle lights, banners, candles, bar, Hot Bartender (woot! more on this in a sec), and then nothing. A bunch of people had made reservations, but the crowd was meager. Meager. Who knows what happened, but it became SUCH a long night and I was SO tired. And there were a few fun moments. I got to see my friend Lena for a bit that I hadn't seen in a couple years. A friend's husband told a gaggle of young people that I was the hottest girl he'd ever seen (sorry, K! that was awkward for both of us!), and one lonely drunk bastard got plastered, danced alone like a male Elaine all night while people he didn't know videotaped him (poor bastard is probably ALL over YouTube right now), fell and ripped up his hand (which I patched up with my personal first aid kit. sometimes I hate that I'm a fireman's daughter). Poor guy. I felt bad for him. But, security made sure he wasn't driving and got him a cab to his hotel.

Oh, and Hot Bartender. THAT was a pleasant surprise. And I still flirted, but without my cute outfit (and I'm sure after working in the heat ALL day, I looked super attractive), I suddenly got shy and nervous. What was my deal? Who knows. But I totally wussed out and didn't make any kind of moves. He seemed interested though. The party was so slow, he stood with me and talked between making drinks. And did I mention that he's hot? Hot. And I know, bartender. Cliche. But he seemed nice. And we weren't at a seedy bar, he was with the catering company. Am I just hard up? Rebounding? I don't think so. I think I was attracted to Hot Bartender and I couldn't man up enough to make a move because it was scary.

Oh well. C'est la vie. What's a girl to do?

Anyway, I told myself that I wasn't going to do a damn thing today and so far I've been pretty damn successful. I've gotten out of bed for shower and food and I even made myself refrain from chores or cleaning of any kind (except cleaning myself). I just laid in bed all day watching Hulu and Netflix and generally being kind to myself. After this month and then this weekend, I needed to day to detox and do nada. And I haven't felt sick today, just exhausted, so that's a good sign. Back to work tomorrow so I'm glad I didn't make the most of today. Doing nothing is much more fun sometimes.