The Ups & The Downs

December 2019. I was THRIVING. 

Last week hit me with being especially anxious, extremely low-energy, and generally feeling a little pessimistic about life in general. There are a lot of reasons for this: the terrorists at The Capitol, the following news cycles, dreading potential future family conversations, being cold all the time, having the stress of a big project deadline coming up, talking with lots of new coaching clients and the resulting logistical stuff, and the fact that my period is coming. These reasons are valid! And it makes sense that they're getting me down. 

More interesting to me than the reasons, however, are the way these moments cycle. These ups, and these downs. December 2019, I was feeling GREAT: I was high energy, in really great shape, excited about possibilities, and embracing friendships. February 2020, I was really hurting. I was too busy, too stressed, and felt like I was really loosing a true sense of myself. Obviously, March 2020 hit, and the rest of the year has been those same ups and downs, in every area of life. There are have been weeks, days, and hours, where I feel fine, and grateful to be where I am, only to follow the next moment with a dizzying spiral into some pretty dark places. 

These ups and downs have always been a part of my life. I vividly remember times as a kid, and times in high school, when I experienced the same thing for months at a time. I have anxiety, and often for me, extended periods of time with high anxiety lead to bouts of depression. Beyond that, I am a melancholy person. I am introspective, and tend towards brooding in my own thoughts. That can make it difficult to stop the cycle once it's started. Sometimes, I'm just mad, sad, or overwhelmed; and there doesn't feel like much I can do about that. 

February 2020. I remember getting dressed this particular morning to meet up with a friend, and really struggling. 

I've been in therapy for most of this past year, and have spent a lot of time reading, watching videos, journaling, talking, and learning more about how to work with this. I don't want to be controlled by my anxiety. I want to consistently feel more excitement, and more passion, in my life, instead of the dread and neutrality I can sometimes fall into. I would like to feel a little more stable, and less like one thing going wrong can send me into a tailspin. 

I have made significant progress. I have broken several old habits, and old loops. Becoming more independent over this past year has helped me shed some previous skins that weren't serving me. And overall, as we enter 2021, I am feeling so much better. Time between breakdowns is getting further and further apart. I can articulate the things that help me re-center when I am getting overwhelmed. I notice unhelpful thought patterns I fall into. 

Yet, despite this progress, this week has still thrown me for a loop. And there's a part of me that feels like I just need to accept that. These cycles are part of my makeup, and while I can learn coping mechanisms and do tons of work to better live with them, they will still exist. Forcing myself to maintain "perfect" level of positivity is not possible, and seems like a surefire way to guilt-trip this loop into starting again. 

A few weeks ago. I feel like the fog is finally lifting, and I feel so much more like me again!

It's been about a week and a half since I started writing this post, and I'm proud of what's happened these last few days. I did feel like an anxious piece of trash, but I didn't dwell on it the way I often do. I did have a panic-induced argument with Chris, but we talked it out and noticed how it was much more manageable than similar arguments we've had. I did feel a lot of overwhelm as my work schedule filled for the week, but I was able to prioritize the important things, and cancel a few things that were just extra. 

Accepting that I will have ups and downs, and that outside of me life is also full of ups and downs, is giving me a lot of peace right now. It's going me the ability to say, "Yes! I'm anxious. I probably need to step back and maybe drink some water." Or, "Yes! I'm super overwhelmed! I'm going to focus on these three things and let the rest go." Acknowledging that the feeling exists, helps me to deal with it. We will have ups and downs...and that's okay. Our job is not to be happy all the time! Our job is to strive to move through stressful, unhealthy situations in the healthiest way possible. And thinking of it that way seems extremely manageable to me. 

One Year of Shacking Up

This past Sunday, January 10th, marked  the one year anniversary of Chris and I moving in together. I can't believe that it's been that long, but I also can't imagine it being any other way. 

December of 2019, I was skating at Sea World's WWOI. I had left for Florida in November with a rough plan that we would most likely move in together after I came home. Over the next two months, we decided for sure. 

December 2019, we talked a lot about living together, and what it would mean. That conversation, though, had really started over a year earlier, and became a serious topic over that summer. We talked about every side of it, from timelines and expectations about marriage, to how we'd split finances, to how we'd make time to do things without each other. For me, though, the number one topic I kept coming back to was a little less helpful: how would we handle people's reactions?

I was worried about what my parents would think. What my grandmother would think. I was worried about the thoughts of people at church, and especially worried about my closest friends at church. I was worried I would disappoint someone. I was worried that people would think I was some kind of fake Christian, or just a terribly weak one. I was worried that somehow I was failing. And all that worry made me obsess, and attempt to prepare for, so many worst case scenarios. I was prepared to be openly ridiculed, excluded from people I loved, and get the cold shoulder from family. 

But, I also knew that I really wanted to live with Chris. I knew that after all the time I'd spent staying over at his apartment, I was happiest there. Going through normal, daily rhythms with him made me feel the most grounded, the most whole, and the most like myself. Our time together made me want to keep growing as a person. A year and a half into our relationship, I found our love the most exciting, and most nourishing, part of my life. 

We also knew that this was just really good for us. We wanted more space, more time, a routine. We wanted to live with less of an audience. We felt like the next step of our growth as a couple was to act like a proper, partnered couple. 

And while I worried a lot about the opinions of my church, I also didn't believe this was wrong. Maybe those reasons will be their own post some day, but suffice it to say, deciding not to move in together would have been a decision made out of fear of resentment, not fear of actually doing something wrong. Even on my most people-pleasing days, I couldn't live with the idea of that fear shaping my life. 

This year, perhaps, wasn't the easiest one to start our lives together: there was that pandemic, bouts of unemployment, disappointments, actual criticisms my church members, and coming to terms with some deeply rooted anxiety. But on the flip side, every single good thing that did come out of 2020 for me, is somehow linked to the happy little life we've made together. Without Chris vacuuming dog hair and doing home workouts beside me, this year really would have been unbearable. 

A year later, I am proud of us. I'm proud of the life and the cozy little  home we've built. I'm proud that in the face of knowingly opening ourselves up to criticism, we stuck together and focused our actual decisions on what we needed as a couple. I'm proud that we've both been open and eager communicators, to make figuring out what we need doable. 

We have so many more ways to grow, but the growth we did experience is something I'm very proud of. Happy one year of shacking up, Chris. I am so beyond grateful to get to be delinquent with you. 

For anyone thinking through this transition: listen to your gut, not everyone else's reactions. You absolutely know what the right decision for this moment is.