PursuingMyPeace

I Hate Not Having My Car
Friday Aug 26, 2011

Captain Jack has my car today.  The truck is still partially disassembled.  He should be having another of his out of town appts at 1pm.  He was supposed to call them first thing this morning and make sure he would be done in time to be back in town by the time I got off.  I asked him to email me if he needed to tell me anything because I felt like we talked wayyyyy to much on the phone yesterday while I was at work and I want to limit/eliminate phone calls today.  He dropped me off at 7:45am and it is now noon and I have yet to receive an email.  I have been stewing about it since 9:30am.  His appt is at 1pm and it takes 45 minutes to get there. I imagine I will not be receiving an email as he best be walking out the door.  I keep thinking to reach for the phone, and then decide not to, to wait a bit longer and give him time.  But the reality is that this is another one of the OBSESSIVE things I do.  And I do it all the time.  I make too many phone calls to him because I am angry that I have asked him to call, or even worse HE has told me he will call, and I wait and wait and he doesn’t call.  In this case it’s email, but the concept is the same.  I refuse to call.  I refuse to text.  I refuse to email.  I am still thoroughly disgusted that he has not emailed me even though I felt I was explicitly clear that I wanted him to let me know as soon as he had information about his appt.  I am pissed off because I feel like I deserve to be in the loop as to what is going on, both because I’m half of this relationship and also because he’s got my car which means I am stranded at work until he gets back.  Not that I’m going anywhere until 5pm, but it’s the principle.  I got the truck for him.  I cashed out my paid leave from my prior job and instead of doing something for myself with money I earned long before I met him, I bought him a vehicle so we wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore.  ANNNNNDDDD I bought him the truck he wanted, a truck he has wanted since he was in high school. 

I am frustrated beyond words that he does this.  I HATE HATE HATE that he cannot seem to follow through with keeping me in the loop.  He just does not pay attention to the time or think about what it is like for me as the minutes tick by all day long while I sit at my desk and wait for the phone to ring or the email to arrive.  I just have the clock staring me in the face, tick tock tick tock, and and and … . plus I put off going on my break or going to the bathroom because I am expecting a call and don’t want to miss it.  So then I have the added emotion enhancing sensation of a full bladder, which always puts me in SUCH a chipper mood.

There’s also the added bonus that he was in his comatose state yesterday and when we went to bed last night (separately as always) we had been discussing whether he would even be going to the appt because of the safety of him making the 45 minute drive.  This comatose state happens frequently and I don’t know what causes it.  But it is scary and it is intensely infuriating.  He can’t hold a conversation or even a train of thought.  He can’t enunciate his words and all the mumbling makes me nuts.  In essence, it takes him a full five minutes to get a couple of sentences spit out – like I’ll ask, are you hungry and what would you like to have and it takes five minutes for him to gather his thoughts and then get the thoughts from his brain to his mouth.  Maybe five minutes doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a LONG DAMN TIME when it’s a question that simple.  And then to have waited all that time for the answer, when it comes out all mumbled and garbled and I have to say “what?” about twenty times and then he loses his train of thought and says “what were we talking about?” and then I want to punch myself in the face.  My patience wears very thin.  Ugh.

Something that just occurred to me … it’s not my responsibility to make sure he’s up/ready to go/on time or any other thing.  He’s a grown man, something he used to say to me all the time when we were first dating.  It’s hard for me, being that I’m a control freak, to just let things go and be what they are.  I’m always worried that he’ll be late or forget the appt or not be watching the time (or wreck the car).  I hate worrying about all that stuff.  It’s exhausting.  And I realize, logically, that it’s not my place to be worrying about it anyway.  Emotionally though, that’s another story altogether.  Just one more thing I can put on my list of “things to work on”.  It’s so hard to let it go because if he misses his appt or is late for something or whatever the current issue is, it does affect me.  There are numerous ways his lack of togetherness can negatively impact me.  For instance, if he’s late for something and incurs a charge, I have to come up with the money.  If it’s a missed doctor appt, that means slower healing which in turn affects EVERYTHING (proper medication refills, his coherency, our sleeping arrangements, our complete lack of a sex life, the fact that I have missed almost every fun local, social, work related event in the past two and a half years).  If he has the car and is supposed to pick me up, I’m the one sitting on a bench waiting for him to show up, tired after working all day and getting more and more irritated by the minute.  So I’m at a crossroads.  Where is my boundary?  Which part of it is legitimately mine and which has nothing to do with me?  Ugh.  Again.

is indoors again.

And she’s an asshole.

She’s all happy go lucky, and meow meow meow, and roll around on the floor look at me I’m cute.

I, on the other hand, have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I, who was crazy out of my mind, need some valium.

At least she’s home. Maybe I will sleep tonight.

I wish that meant I feel all better now. But I don’t. You wanna know why? Because the truck is still broken, and I’m still not getting to take my class, and I missed yet another event because Captain Jack is too sick/out of it/tired/hurting/antisocial/fill in the blank to attend.

I’m tired of my life being on hold because of him. I love him to pieces, but I don’t know how much more I can take. I feel like I’ve lost three and a half years of my life because of him. I feel like a bitch for even complaining because he’s sick for God’s sake.

But at what point do my feelings get to matter? At what point do I get to enjoy someone taking a little care of me? Will things ever be “normal”? Will we ever get to just go for a walk and hold hands? Will we ever sit outside in the cool night air and stare at the stars? Will he ever sleep in the bed again so we can talk into the night and cuddle? Will we ever have sex again? The battery operated sad excuse for sex that I have been stuck with for the past two and half years is just not cutting it anymore (although it is a hell of a lot better than nothing so I guess it could be worse).

I wanted to go out to dinner tonight and eat Pizza Mexican Chinese Denny’s. But nothing sounded quite right. Captain Jack confuses going out to dinner with takeout. To me there is a huge difference between eating out and getting the food and bringing it home. Plus he was in one of semi-comatose states and I couldn’t get him to even tell me if he was hungry. So after two hours of waiting for him to decide if he was hungry or not I gave up and made Ramen with scrambled eggs for myself. Not really what I had in mind nor particularly satisfying.

Now I want some cookies and ice cream with M&Ms. In fact I want ALL. THE. COOKIES. Unfortunately, cookies and ice cream are at the store. And I don’t feel like driving to the store. So I’m not going to have all the cookies. Or any ice cream. Which I suppose is not unfortunate after all.

My dilemma is this: for someone like myself, who uses food as a coping mechanism, what do I do instead? I am overwhelmed with anger, frustration, hopelessness, powerlessness, sexual frustration, resentment. If I can’t have a cookie or a pizza or a bowl of ice cream, what do I do? What I feel like doing is screaming at the top of my lungs about how pissed off I am and how much I hate everything and then punching some stuff. But it seems like this might be a bit unproductive. Probably even less healthy than all the cookies plus a bowl of ice cream.

Clearly I need to find an outlet for all this emotion, or I will explode.

Today is the worst day I’ve had in a very long time.

I woke up exhausted.  And I woke up before the alarm went off because Captain Jack was asking me if the cat was in the bedroom with me.  The indoor-only cat.  You probably know where this is going.  Yep, Indoor-Cat is outside.  Still.  She’s been outside now for at least fifteen hours.  Apparently Capt Jack did some serious sleepwalking last night.  Including leaving the door open so that Indoor-Cat could make a break for freedom.  

I am not handling it well.  

The added benefit of CJ’s sleepwalking shenanigans is that he has been sort of, shall we say, less than focused today.  He had an appointment this afternoon, which I suggested he might be wise to skip as it is about a thirty minute drive on a rather windy road to get to said appointment.  I thought he might not be in top form to be driving that far or on that road.  He chose to go.  I told him very clearly that I would like him to call or text me as soon as he arrived so that I would know he made it there OK.  

Usually he takes the car (better gas mileage) but today he really wanted to take the truck to work in some additive he had added this morning.  We hemmmed and hawwwed a bit, but he ended up taking the truck.  The truck that I had driven last week and thought might be past due for brakes.  You probably know where this is going as well.  He rear ended someone before even getting out of town.  No damage to their vehicle (thank GOD) due to the fact that he hit their trailer hitch and not their actual vehicle.  But … and it’s a big BUT … not only did it put a sizable dent in the front of the truck, it also punctured the radiator and tweaked the driver’s side front blinker.  He says the blinker still works, but I don’t know yet if it’s “legal”.  

He was, and still is, beside himself.  The truck is his baby and he’s heartbroken that it is wrecked in the front and of course upset that we will now have to find the money to get the radiator repaired.  Oh, and get new brakes obviously.  Due to his emotional distress over the whole incident, he forgot to call/text me.  Which means I waited two hours for his call (for a trip that normally takes 45 minutes), not realizing of course that he never left town.  After an hour, I got more and more worried with each passing minute and finally I gave up and called to make sure he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.  

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but Captain Jack has been off work for awhile due to some serious medical problems.  I have no problem with this (aside from the absence of a sex life).  I want nothing more than for him to take care of himself and get his health back.  This means that we are already living a bit tight due to having only one income.  I am in no way complaining, because I know full well that many other couples are going through the exact same situation.  But I have to admit I am resentful right now.  I had told him last week that I felt the brakes were in need of replacement.  I told him this morning that I really felt he shouldn’t be going to his appointment today.  And I told him I really thought he should take the car like he usually does.  And since all of these things basically fell on deaf ears, now I have to come up with the money to repair the truck.

I had signed up for a class at the college this semester.  It is a class I have been wanting to take for about five years.  I’ve even signed up for it once or twice in past semeters, but had to cancel before the class started for one reason or another.  I originally didn’t think I would be able to take it this fall either due to financial constraints, but at the last minute I discovered I did have the money to do it.  Yay!!  I was so excited!!  Class started tonight and I got up this morning excited about going to campus, and meeting the teacher and my classmates, and buying my book.  And this afternoon, I had to drop the class.  I will need the registration money I’ve already spent refunded to me.  Thankfully I hadn’t already bought the book.  That will at least pay for the new brakes.  I don’t know yet how much the radiator will cost.  So there goes my class.  Again.  : (

When I got home, Captain Jack was practically in an emotional coma.  So I did my usual evening chores and fixed dinner because I knew he wouldn’t be up to making anything.  Wednesday is usually his night, but I just didn’t even want to have a discussion about dinner.  It seemed easier to just make something and be done with it.  

Indoor-Cat was still outdoors and seems to favor hanging out under the house.  Right in the middle.  Of course.  After eating, CJ and I went out and tried coaxing Indoor-Cat out.  I actually did see her, with my own eyes, so I know she is OK and hasn’t run off.  There are vents all around the house and CJ had removed most of them.  I was able to get her to come to me and let me pet her, and I even was able to get a hold of her.  But I couldn’t keep a good enough grip to drag her through the hole.  And I couldn’t get CJ to hear me yelling for him to get an extra set of hands.  And I lost my hold.  So now she’s pissed at me and won’t come within two yards of me.  I’m am really very angry about it right now.  I’m pissed at myself for not just yanking her through the hole and to hell with the scratches I would have gotten.  At least she’d be in the damn house.  And I’m pissed at her for being such a little shit.  Part of me just wants to leave her out there.  I know that part will fade, but right now I’m just livid with her. 

All in all, today has been a less than stellar day.  The only good thing I can say about it is that I had a very brief, fleeting thought of stopping at the grocery store to stock up on cookies and ice cream.  And then I thought, well that won’t make me feel any better and I’ll hate myself tomorrow.  When I left work, I didn’t stop at the store.  That.  Was.  Awesome.  On the flip side, now I don’t know what to do to cope with my feelings.  I’m on the verge of tears because I am so frustrated and angry - with CJ, with Indoor-Cat, with money.  I want to scream and cry and hit things (like a punching bag or pillow, not a person or a cat).  I want to drive my car fast and reckless.  But I can’t do these things.  I need a substitute for the food.  At least it’s a step in the right direction.  

In light of that, maybe it wasn’t actually the WORST Wednesday.

But it sure was wretched.

I am horrified and yet fascinated by Ted Bundy

I am obsessive

I am not usually compulsive

I made yummy chicken for dinner tonight

I am totally and completely insecure in practically every way

I have the sex drive of a seventeen year old male

Captain Jack has no sex drive

This is complicated

So I went a little nuts with the exercise.  Sore Sore Sore

But it feels good.

I hope I can stick with it.

Today I had no snacks.  Just breakfast, lunch, dinner.  And I wasn’t plagued by thoughts about food.  It was … nice.  Unusual and strange, but nice.

I’m feeling better than I did yesterday.  Apparently vomiting my thoughts out into the computer actually does help.  Because feeling better certainly isn’t the result of a good night’s sleep last night.  I can handle that though.  If that’s what it takes, I can keep writing.  

I do feel better.  But not good.  Not normal.  I realize (sadly) that my expectations are unrealistic.  I won’t be healed after one or two days of purging.  But it doesn’t stop me from wishing it could be that way.  Because I’m tired of feeling this way.  I just want to be happy.  

Have you read Geneen Roth?  She has written several books on the connection between weight and emotional turmoil.  She often says something along the lines of “You won’t be happy when you get thin.  You’ll get thin when you are happy.”  I think she’s right.  Hard to let go of the belief that I will be happy, that all my cares will evaporate and my issues would be solved, if only I could be thin.  Somehow, it seems easier to lose weight than to deal with my demons.  But maybe if I can tame my demons, weight and food wouldn’t be such a struggle.  

10knotes

1. It makes you attractive.
2. It changes your mood
3. It is contagious.
4. It relieves stress.
5. It boosts your immune system.
6. It lowers your blood pressure.
7. It releases endorphins, natural pain killers and serotonin - natural antidepressant.
8. It lifts the face and makes you look younger.
9. It makes you seem successful.
10. It helps you stay positive.

this could also work for sex lol :)

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I’m so overwhelmed
I have so many thoughts
I’m having trouble keeping up with them

I want to write.  I need to write.  I want to document what I’m thinking and feeling and going through so I can look back in a week, in a month, in a year, and see where I’ve been and how far I’ve come.  I need to get this crap out of me so I can heal and move on. Writing is the number one way I work through things, but it’s harder lately because there are so many things I need to work through. I realize that means I NEED to make it even more a priority. 

I can be surfing Tumblr or Facebook or Twitter and the thoughts flow.  I can be in the shower or cooking or at work and they flow.  But when I sit down to write, I feel stuck.  It’s like all the thoughts vanish.  Or maybe it’s that there are simply so many I can’t pick just one and run with it. 

When I am just thinking, letting my mind go, I can have many thoughts going at once.  When I sit down to write, I generally try to pick just one subject/thought because I want it to make sense and flow nicely.  And I think I can’t settle on one thought because I am so full of them, so I put off writing.  I clean.  I do laundry.  I check Facebook.  I check the news.  I listen to music.  I do anything that will put off starting to write, because I simply don’t know where to start.  So I thought today, instead of trying to write a nice neat post, I would work with a list and just put whatever comes to mind out there.  However disjointed it may end up being … .

Yesterday I weighed myself and I weighed more than I have ever weighed.  In my whole life.  I was disgusted and angry with myself.  I am disgusted and angry with myself.  I hate myself.  I hate my SELF.  I hate me.  I hate that I let it get this out of control.  I hate my body.  HATE HATE HATE

I am feeling full of motivation to do something about my weight because I am so pissed off and yet simultaneously feeling weakened and beaten down.  I don’t know how to explain it.  One part of me wants to go for a walk, run, bicycle ride, and not stop until I drop and the other part wants to crawl under the covers and never come out because I am so ashamed of myself.  Who would want to see me anyway?  I am fat.  I am disgustingly fat.  I am disgusting.  I am ugly.  I am embarrassing. 

And while I have been angry and have hated myself for a great many things for a long time, yesterday it felt different.  Have I hit rock bottom?  That’s a scary thought, but also one full of promise.  If I truly have hit rock bottom, then there’s only one way to go.  It’s pitiful that I had to let things get this bad to make a change, but maybe it’s what had to happen.

For dinner last night, I ate leftover pizza.  There were two slices left.  And I thought, that won’t be enough.  So I also made myself one burrito.  What heavy words.  Not Be Enough.  I wonder how often I think those words in regards to food without realizing I think them.  This morning I made myself two egg and cheese sandwiches.  I made two because one wouldn’t be enough.  This time when I caught myself thinking “that won’t be enough”, I actually slowed down a bit and took a moment to let it sink in.  How often do I make too much food, and proceed to eat all of it, because of this thought?  Why can’t I make the smaller portion, and if I am still hungry after make more?  Why do I make the extra portion, and then eat all of it whether I want it or not?  When I make the extra, do I even pay attention to whether I want all of it?  My guess is no, I just eat it all regardless of if or when I get full.  Do I even recognize what full feels like? 

Those words “Not Enough”.  They are so pervasive in my internal life.  I’m not enough.  Not pretty enough.  Not smart enough.  Not good enough.  Not Christian enough.  Not funny enough.  Not popular enough.  Not fun enough.  Not interesting enough.  Not loving enough.  Not strong enough.  Not thin enough (even when I was thin).  Not good enough.  There is not enough money.  Not enough time … . Hmmmm.  Are my feelings of Not Enough tied to my weight? 

I’ve encountered the theory of Automatic Thoughts several times in counseling.  With different counselors.  It’s the idea that we all have certain thoughts that are so ingrained, that we have these thoughts for so long, that we absolutely BELIEVE them and never stop to question them.  Our lives are governed by them.  They are so much a part of us that we don’t even realize we think them.  The thought happens so fast that we often aren’t even conscious that we are thinking them as we think them.  I think this Not Enough thing is an automatic thought for me.  I must work on this.  If I ever want to lose weight and keep it off, I must challenge this thought. 

Today I exercised.  And it was pitiful.  I am so out of shape.  But I pushed through.  I walked on the treadmill and then did a core exercise and a few strength exercises.  I can feel it already.  And when I was done, I felt a little like I sometimes do when I overeat.  Sort of sick to my stomach (probably due to overdoing it and also needing some water).  I realize and acknowledge that I overeat as a way to block out things I don’t want to deal with.  So I thought to myself, why can’t I substitute this feeling from exercise for the feeling I get when I overeat?  Then I realized that this feeling from exercise also included a good feeling, a feeling of accomplishment.  Maybe that’s why I can’t substitute it for the eating.  Because I don’t I deserve to feel good.  Because I’m not enough. 

Will I ever be enough?  Who taught me that I am not enough? 

Admitting I have issues from a horrible former job situation = Acceptable
Admitting I have issues from childhood = Unacceptable

Weight Goals
Short term – to break the 300 pound mark
Long term – to get down to 175 pounds and never again hit the 200 pound mark
I want to wear jeans.  I want to go to the movies and fit comfortably in the seat.  I want to not be ashamed of myself.  I want to run into old friends and not worry that they are shocked by how I look.  I want to be healthy.  I don’t want to worry about my health all the time.  I want to feel comfortable wearing a skirt.  I want to be happy.  Is that too much to ask?  Do I deserve to have these things?

What would it be like to not be afraid of meeting new people or doing unfamiliar things?
What would it be like, instead, to be excited by the prospect, the adventure, of something new? 
What would it be like to believe myself capable? 
What would it be like to inherently know that I am smart and competent and useful and valuable?

I suffer from insecurity.  At times it’s crippling.  I have an intense fear of failure and an even more intense fear of appearing stupid.  I constantly worry that people will find out who I really am, how inept, how dumb, how uninteresting, how unimportant, and be thoroughly disappointed.  I censor every thought, every opinion, every desire, every feeling.  I run through scenarios in my head before I act or speak, looking at outcomes from every possible angle.  I want to be absolutely sure that I won’t embarrass myself or my parents or friends, that I won’t say or do something stupid, that I won’t offend or annoy or hurt anyone.  To the point that I end up doing a whole lot of nothing, because by the time I have decided the best way to say or do something, the moment has passed.  So I end up not participating, not engaging.  The end result is that I exclude myself.  From life.  I hate it. 

All these things regularly throw a party in my head and the result is anxiety.  This anxiety inhibits my ability to think clearly and speak coherently.  I have lived with anxiety all my life.  I had no idea until a couple of years ago that I was/am an anxious person.  I thought it was just my personality.  Now I know there is something I can do about it.  Which is an incredible relief, but not exactly simple.  I understand that it probably will never go away completely, that it is a part of who I am.  But I know I can control it much more than I ever thought possible.  And one of the most important steps on the way to healing my anxieties is getting to the root of my insecurity, my fear of failure, and my fear of looking stupid.  Unfortunately, I’m stuck at that step.  I don’t know (yet) how to work out those insecurities and fears.  I know they’ve been a part of me for as long as I can remember, and getting rid of them will not be an easy task. 

The reason I’m thinking about all this right now is my new wonderful job.  My prior job was one of those soul sucking, soul crushing, hellish jobs.  I sincerely hated my job.  It seeped into every pore of my body and built upon all the insecurities and fears and negative opinions I already had about myself.  Honestly, I look back now and wonder how I survived it.  How my co-workers are still surviving it.  I marvel at the fact that I had the courage to apply for and take a new job.  It’s a minor miracle really considering how convinced I was that I was/am a lousy employee and a rather inept person.  I was so sure no other job would ever want me, and so sure that I wouldn’t be able to handle anything different or new.  But here I am, and I LOVE my new job.  I am doing well and my new co-workers and boss seem to love me just as much as I love them.  Their opinion of me is like salve on an open wound.  I need it so badly.  At the same time, it hasn’t sunk in as truly real yet.  But I love every kind word and smile and encouraging comment and praise I get.  I will never get sick of hearing what a good job I am doing, how happy they are to have me, how much they like me.  Nor will I EVER take it for granted.  

Tomorrow though, I have to make a conference call.  I have to sit at a computer in another office and call a stranger on the phone.  This stranger will be explaining a process to me and walking me through how to accomplish a task.  All the while, the person who lives in that office will also be there, watching and listening.  Needless to say, I am a tad anxious about this call.  What if I sound like an idiot on the phone?  What if I don’t understand what he’s trying to tell me?  What if I crash the computer or delete the files or mess up the database?  What if I get through it while I’m on the phone, but the next time I have to help my co-worker, I can’t remember how to do it?  Ugh!!  So many what ifs. 
 

And so, again,  I wonder …

What would it be like to not have anxiety when faced with situations like this?
What would it be like to be comfortable talking on the phone? 
What would it be like to be at ease taking to strangers?
What would it be like to know that I simply need a nudge in the right direction from a more experienced person?

I wonder

• I’m new to Truthful Tuesday
• This is my first Truthful Tuesday entry
• I love my job (finally!)
• I want to move to a bigger city
• Food is my drug
• I wish my hair would grow faster 

Living in my head has been really painful lately.  I’m trying to deal with some old stuff, and I feel like a dismal failure.  I used to think I was so together, so with it, so in control.  But I don’t know how to handle these emotions that are coming up and I feel like a big fat mess.  I’ve apparently done a smash up job of stuffing all my bad feelings, which of course means I am not in any way accustomed to feeling them.  I am overwhelmed with them and feel like I might explode into a million tiny pieces.  There are so many feelings, and they are so intense, and I don’t know what to do.  I’m scared and lonely and frustrated.  How do people do this?  How do they work through their stuff and come out the other side stronger and wiser?  

Lonely and frightened.

Ignored and confused.

Invisible and alone.

Rarely seen and never heard.

Isn’t it interesting how we talk to our closest loved ones in a way we would NEVER EVER talk to anyone else?  I find myself doing it, and I am ashamed.  I should treat Captain Jack* better than I treat any other single person on earth.  He is my favorite thing in the world, and I should treat him with more respect, caring, love, understanding, and kindness than I would any other person I know.  Or any person I don’t know.  Yet it seems like my worst comes out at him, or at least in his presence.  It seems to me that this is somewhat human nature, to be our worst with those we feel safest with.  But I know that I also had extra training in this ugly trait from my mother.  It is the way she talks to my dad in the privacy of home.  And the way she used to talk to me when I lived at home.  This is not in any way an excuse for me to carry on the ugliness.  It is simply a fact of my life. 

I vow to work on this. 

I love you CJ.  

*Captain Jack is my wonderful boyfriend, my partner, my one and only.  

 … you know you’re exhausted but you stay up late.  And the next day you’re even more exhausted but that night you stay up late again.  And you think, man I’m gonna be sorry tomorrow.  But you stay up again anyway.  And the next  night, and the next night … and all you can do is limp to Saturday so you can sleep in.
Yeah.  That.
Why do I do that?   

re: tonight’s counseling session.  It made me want to eat but I didn’t want anything I had in my lunchbox of course.  And I knew that if I made a run to the store I would eat everything I bought and still want more.  Because I wasn’t really hungry, I was antsy and food won’t cure that.  I managed not to eat anything except lunch but sure wished I could turn off all the obsessive food thoughts running through my brain.  They are very annoying and suck focus and energy away from work.  It’s so frustrating that I can’t control my own thoughts. 

……. to PursuingMyPeace.

I will be using this space to work through the messiness that is me, and hopefully to find peace of mind and contentment with my life.

I hope that readers of all types can find something useful here … something insightful, something relatable, something comforting, something enlightening, something funny.