I really really wish I could… I can try as much as I want, but I really wish I had words for it. It’s complicated, and I truly wish there were a silver bullet, but I got lucky
I think “breathing” has become one of the most important things I’ve learned. Didn’t honestly realize “breathing” was such a big part of me dealing with things until I was already an adult (realized in my 30’s)
When I was little, I was prone to “tantrum throwing”; but I wasn’t “allowed” to do that (not just by fear of consequences, but it hurt my feelings afterward). While I was in a tantrum and wanted to break the world, people whom I loved were calm with me; trying to make me realize that it didn’t make a difference, no matter how much I raged… and it kinda broke me
I had to learn how to control my “rage” and my emotions. And I kinda think (now) that I learned how to do that by breathing through it; cause it didn’t matter if I threw a fit or not, the outcome was ultimately the same. The only person hurting was me, because of me… regardless of what set me off. My headaches, face-red, violent thought, shaking mad at the unfairness; it was all dependent on me and whether I chose to let it take over me or not.
And it turned out that (to me) “love” didn’t care how physically strong I wanted to be… how angry I could be. “Love” was patient with me and waited for me. “It” didn’t care how big I acted… it just waited. It pretty much broke me and my childhood tantrums/rage, and I started fostering patience… not easily, but steadily.
Instead of wanting to punch down a brick wall… I breathed through it. If you pissed me off… I paused, and breathed before responding. Breathing is about the best I got, but I try to choose that over losing control and hurting my own head.
Fast-forward to being an adult: I had learned a lot of emotional control. I still have that rage and I wish I didn’t; but I do my best to breathe through it. And spoiler alert: I don’t always win. I would LIKE to break that brick wall (cause I’m strong/mad/worthwhile/something to prove), but I’ll only hurt myself in the end and help no one else. It’s a lose-lose for me to lose control. So I breathe and try not to engage with my racing thoughts
But I did learn triggers. I hate looking for shit… I can’t stand it. I don’t want to waste 2 seconds of my life looking for my keys or wallet. I only have so much patience and my brain is already against me trying to focus. So my wallet and keys are in the same place EVERY time without fail. It they aren’t… I better start breathing while I search. I have to remember “patience” and “breathing” while I try to focus
I use earplugs when I’m overwhelmed by sounds and stimulus. Just 5 minutes of silence and (once again) breathing; and then I can usually resume my thoughts.
I finally allowed myself to ask my doctor for an anti-anxiety medication (klonopin for me) when I was 33. I didn’t want to be addicted or crutched, and wanted to be able to deal with it like I always did… but I really wish I would have asked for help sooner. I felt silly when I realized how much it helped. I felt silly when i realized how much Adderall helped. I didn’t want to “rely on a crutch”, because I had learned (over many years) how to rely on me. And I felt silly… dumb… ignorant… stupid for wasting so much energy fighting against my own damn head
I need my things (like my wallet, keys, toothbrush, hairtie, etc) to be in the same place EVERY TIME, so I don’t have to waste focus on finding them. If they get moved; I try to breath through it while I find them
If things get “noisy” and overwhelming, I pop in some earplugs for a few minutes; and I sit in silence and breath.
When I want to just POP!, because my brain doesn’t let me move forward and adjust… more breathing.
I lose things, as I’m finding/gathering other things; I get frustrated because I can’t hear or because I hear too much; I forget faces, names, thoughts, ideas, or sometimes blank completely; I get frustrated. I get angry because I’m frustrated. And it ain’t nobody’s fault how I feel or why I feel… it’s something I have to deal with as best I can. So I breathe through it the best I can
It sucks. It really fucking sucks sometimes. But it’s also ok. Sometimes it’s beautiful, and sometimes it’s awful; the way my brain works. But it’s mostly ok.
And I’m ok with that. I like me (enough). I just have to really remember and remind myself to breathe sometimes. It’s ok. I’m ok. Look at all these little good things happening all around me, all of the time. Let me try and be a part of that little bit of good. Inhale. Exhale. I’m ok
TL;DR - I use breathing exercises, routine, and mental gymnastics. It’ll all end up the same in the end, so I might as well try and enjoy the “good things” that feel more than superficial… for as long as I can. Cause fuck it; the only person it matters to is me, in the end. I guess it is what I make it
I really really wish I could… I can try as much as I want, but I really wish I had words for it. It’s complicated, and I truly wish there were a silver bullet, but I got lucky
I think “breathing” has become one of the most important things I’ve learned. Didn’t honestly realize “breathing” was such a big part of me dealing with things until I was already an adult (realized in my 30’s)
When I was little, I was prone to “tantrum throwing”; but I wasn’t “allowed” to do that (not just by fear of consequences, but it hurt my feelings afterward). While I was in a tantrum and wanted to break the world, people whom I loved were calm with me; trying to make me realize that it didn’t make a difference, no matter how much I raged… and it kinda broke me
I had to learn how to control my “rage” and my emotions. And I kinda think (now) that I learned how to do that by breathing through it; cause it didn’t matter if I threw a fit or not, the outcome was ultimately the same. The only person hurting was me, because of me… regardless of what set me off. My headaches, face-red, violent thought, shaking mad at the unfairness; it was all dependent on me and whether I chose to let it take over me or not.
And it turned out that (to me) “love” didn’t care how physically strong I wanted to be… how angry I could be. “Love” was patient with me and waited for me. “It” didn’t care how big I acted… it just waited. It pretty much broke me and my childhood tantrums/rage, and I started fostering patience… not easily, but steadily.
Instead of wanting to punch down a brick wall… I breathed through it. If you pissed me off… I paused, and breathed before responding. Breathing is about the best I got, but I try to choose that over losing control and hurting my own head.
Fast-forward to being an adult: I had learned a lot of emotional control. I still have that rage and I wish I didn’t; but I do my best to breathe through it. And spoiler alert: I don’t always win. I would LIKE to break that brick wall (cause I’m strong/mad/worthwhile/something to prove), but I’ll only hurt myself in the end and help no one else. It’s a lose-lose for me to lose control. So I breathe and try not to engage with my racing thoughts
But I did learn triggers. I hate looking for shit… I can’t stand it. I don’t want to waste 2 seconds of my life looking for my keys or wallet. I only have so much patience and my brain is already against me trying to focus. So my wallet and keys are in the same place EVERY time without fail. It they aren’t… I better start breathing while I search. I have to remember “patience” and “breathing” while I try to focus
I use earplugs when I’m overwhelmed by sounds and stimulus. Just 5 minutes of silence and (once again) breathing; and then I can usually resume my thoughts.
I finally allowed myself to ask my doctor for an anti-anxiety medication (klonopin for me) when I was 33. I didn’t want to be addicted or crutched, and wanted to be able to deal with it like I always did… but I really wish I would have asked for help sooner. I felt silly when I realized how much it helped. I felt silly when i realized how much Adderall helped. I didn’t want to “rely on a crutch”, because I had learned (over many years) how to rely on me. And I felt silly… dumb… ignorant… stupid for wasting so much energy fighting against my own damn head
I need my things (like my wallet, keys, toothbrush, hairtie, etc) to be in the same place EVERY TIME, so I don’t have to waste focus on finding them. If they get moved; I try to breath through it while I find them
If things get “noisy” and overwhelming, I pop in some earplugs for a few minutes; and I sit in silence and breath.
When I want to just POP!, because my brain doesn’t let me move forward and adjust… more breathing.
I lose things, as I’m finding/gathering other things; I get frustrated because I can’t hear or because I hear too much; I forget faces, names, thoughts, ideas, or sometimes blank completely; I get frustrated. I get angry because I’m frustrated. And it ain’t nobody’s fault how I feel or why I feel… it’s something I have to deal with as best I can. So I breathe through it the best I can
It sucks. It really fucking sucks sometimes. But it’s also ok. Sometimes it’s beautiful, and sometimes it’s awful; the way my brain works. But it’s mostly ok.
And I’m ok with that. I like me (enough). I just have to really remember and remind myself to breathe sometimes. It’s ok. I’m ok. Look at all these little good things happening all around me, all of the time. Let me try and be a part of that little bit of good. Inhale. Exhale. I’m ok
TL;DR - I use breathing exercises, routine, and mental gymnastics. It’ll all end up the same in the end, so I might as well try and enjoy the “good things” that feel more than superficial… for as long as I can. Cause fuck it; the only person it matters to is me, in the end. I guess it is what I make it