Substance abuse

So, as many of you may have noticed, I haven't been writing as much lately. I have been trying to keep up with some sort of daily post, even if it is just this series, or introducing new series to come on this blog. But... I haven't been getting into any of the real *substance* of my life, let alone dating life, as of late. Yes, I have been busy, but I have also been somewhat distracted.

In the past, some of these distractions were instigated by people I found interesting, and other times, it was simply work keeping me in the grind. Now, I guess I could say it's a little of both.

The truth is, I am in a place of dissecting my recent past in order to understand it in a new light, and move on from there. It's all well and good, until I start to wonder how to make these first few steps in a new direction.

Have you ever been skiing? Well, I suck at it. I am particularly bad at downhill skiing, made all the more infuriating that it is typically a very public endeavor. I have to be bad in front of a lot of unsuspecting people. Worse than that, my 'badness' literally can get in their way, as we are all vying for nearby spots on the same slope. What I fear most about skiing is not looking badly – as luckily, we are usually so bundled it would be next to impossible to recognize me and eternally mock me for my spills and wipeouts, and it is not even the falling itself that bothers me.

The most annoying part to me in skiing is the few seconds it takes to 'gracefully' depart from the ski lift bench seat, and glide across the often flat, snow covered terrain, to reposition myself for the prospective launch down hill. Just before arriving at the crest, I begin to brace myself for the inevitable: the fleeting moment when I just may use my bench mate as a balance beam, generally flinging them to the opposing side as I try to push off, and catch my stride. Ya. No good.

A few moments before I was enjoying the aerial view of the snow covered mountain, and a few moments after, I will be skulking down that very same path. But that middle portion, is just a complete shitbomb of a disaster. I have almost lost a few friends by that accidental fling-fest procedure I have developed. Somehow, this murky imagery comes to mind now when I review my dating habits.

Since I haven't been writing about anything remotely personal lately, let me try now to share something of substance:

I have made some mistakes. In my past I have been ruled by anxiety, which left untreated would often coast straight into depression-ville. I could never comprehend just how much of my reactions to various stimuli were hardwired from these bio-chemical predispositions. I'm not saying this as a cop out. Actually – far from it! Anyone who has known me well, knows that I have been in therapy since I was 5 years old (required by my elementary school when my paralyzing shyness turned me into a weeping hysterical mess more often than not, and school became frightful). Virtually my entire life has been spent sitting in front of some sort of highly educated specialist listening to my woes, and then suggesting other mechanisms to employ the next time around. Needless to say, I never had much success combating the horrible case of the 'worries,' or the resulting 'melancholy' that would follow, despite trying a million techniques.

Every worry seemed so justified, every bout of sadness seemed to have very plausible roots. Ending this cycle proved to be incredibly challenging. Therapist after therapist, all of the specialists with their fields of expertise, year after year – it was enough to make me feel like a full fledged failure. I had failed the system. Not one doctor, or therapist; not one med or supplement; not one branch of psychology or alternative medicine – but ALL of it. I *felt* no better, and for all intents and purposes – I *was* no better. Something to truly plant the seeds of anxiety and sadness, egh?

But then something changed. I started dating a woman that had ADD, and while on a romantic get away for New Years last year, she opened up about some of her experiences with anxiety and ADD. She told me about some of the approaches she explored, and what methods worked better than others. And I started to see that many of us have some kind of 'thing' we're working on in our lives... Suddenly, I felt safe enough with this woman to begin to reframe how I wanted look at my own struggles. Instead of seeing them as a long list of failures, and seeing myself as the master-failure, I could grant myself permission to simply acknowledge that I hadn't yet found an option that helped me manage my predispositions in a way that felt sufficient. So, I tried...

I did extensive research on the brain's functions, and examined all of the top researchers in their fields, and what approaches they were taking to tackle these ongoing issues in brain health. While doing all of this, I found one of the top doctors in the country happened to be in my area, and I was lucky enough to get an appointment the very next day. I went in doubtful, and relayed my entire history of all of the things that either had no effect, or a worsening effect on my health and wellness.

I spoke at length about my history of feeling unwell, and how it seemed to have sabotaged much of my life. (Again, we covered the many unusual head injuries I have sustained since early childhood, and the Doctor joked it was amazing that I have been so successful under the circumstances.) He felt confident that we could find the right mix of approaches, and get me back on track. All of the things that were deemed 'failures' in my head were perfectly placed flags on this metaphorical map of my brain function. He could rule out what didn't work, and understand more about what might work based on side effects and bad reactions I suffered as the result of certain meds, or therapeutic approaches.

Within a few months of trying a few things out, and deducing all of the right ingredients to ensure my wellness and return to stability, I began to see just how out of whack I have been for far too long. It was tough to not feel sad, like if I had found this doctor sooner, I may have been able to have lead a much different, more successful and even joyful life. There is no use for regret, but I feel so relieved to have finally planted myself more firmly in this new chapter of stability and health. I am so happy that I tried one last time to find a better solution for what always made me feel incapable, or like I was just dumb for not being able to fix it all mindfully. (In no way am I advocating that everyone should be on meds, and that therapy is a hoax. NO! I just see now that sometimes our bio-chemistry is askew, and can't be 'willed' into being otherwise.)

All of this to say that I am happy to have found this calmness and peace. It has been a long time coming. While recently watching a friend of mine freak out daily because her aloof, yet sweet boyfriend kept disappearing for days, I remembered how that mania felt, and how manipulated I was by my anxiety and fears. Now, everything feels approachable and manageable, and I am content, overall.

When I think about this last relationship I had, I am filled with mixed emotions. I am grateful to have felt inspired by her story to research my way to a healthier life, one that works for me. But, to be honest, I am also sad to have lost her before I found this sense of stability and contentment. (Insert wily image of me throwing her atop the ski ridge, when I tried to push off from the lift, while trying to find my stability. An accidental casualty of love. One which I regret every day.) I can imagine that my ever-present anxiety snuffed the flame of passion and desire before we even had a real chance. I know I can't go back and change the past, nor can I wallow in regret over what I didn't know back then. All I can do is appreciate and celebrate the relief I feel, and hope that this path will somehow lead me to being open to the right romantic fit down the line.

One of my favorite writers has a quote that says something to the effect of:

It's sad that we often learn the much needed wisdom as the *result* of going through something so treacherous and challenging. We acquire the knowledge *after* we needed it, when it could have helped us with some pretty serious damage control...

I see now what he meant.