Half Iron Man and a Cup of Break Down

 

So last week, I told you lovely readers about Jenny, and just how amazing she is.  If you forgot or haven’t seen the story, go read about her ability to disprove the impossible and why she’s the reason I dare to dream crazy dreams now.  That said, the first part of this may turn into a bit of a downer, as the last three days have been quite a struggle for me.  It’s always fun when your own neurosis tries to sabotage your dreams.  See right around the time we start truly going for what we want, that’s usually when the world, or the Fates, or the Devil, or whatever you want to call that oppositional force that picks up and starts pelting you with all it’s got starts hitting.  Start going for more than one of those somethings at a time, and you’ve really got a fight on your hands.  Add a few spoonfuls of situational change to the pot and it turned into three days of nagging irritability and a sincere desire to burst into tears at the slightest provocation.  I finally pinned it down as a four day bout with depression, exacerbated by an actually migraine for the first time in two weeks (thank you, Rexburg thunderstorms.)

Now, a while ago, I ran across a meme that I really loved.  It exemplifies how I want to live my life.

Well, currently, this is what my storm looks like.

  • Move to the Salt Lake Valley at the end of July.  Also, gather the funds for said move without an actionable plan for traditional employment.  So, make YouTube videos, rely on Patreon, and hope people are kind enough to pitch in a few bucks on Go Fund Me if all else fails.
  • Adapt to brand new local Church leadership in two and a half months, since our local congregation got so large it necessitated a geographical split.  This is never easy.  Less so when my anxiety keeps reminding me of the horror stories I’ve heard with regard to trans folk in the LDS Church, though I’ve not experienced that since coming out, myself.
  • Figure out the logistics of training for a Half Iron Man – including pulling a racing wheel chair.  Jenny and I are finally teaming up again.
  • Cope with the fact that, at this time, I’m not planning on any steps toward a physical transition, so the inevitable result of training will be an exceedingly fit female body, which will bring inevitable compliments.
  • Reconcile my co-dependent need to care for my family with the fact that my sister is an adult and capable of handling her own life at this point, thus does not need to continue staying with us and will be just fine in Idaho going to beauty school.

Add to this two other major projects that I’m passionate about, the novel manuscript I’m now behind on, and the two weeks I’ve basically spent just getting used to medication, and, well, hello depression, my old frenemy.  So today, it’s back to a two mile walk…or a mental break down.  I’m back, darling internetz after the vain attempt to get myself out from under this morning’s bout of brain fog through a nice, hot shower, which ended in a fit of mad bawling and the desire to throw every mirror in the house across the room.  Yeah, THAT is the gender dysphoria side of being transgender.  Well, I may not make it two miles today.  I will work outs  (At the very least, I’ll stretch, because I can’t help myself anymore.  I get too sore if I don’t.)

But you know what I say to that nagging nothingness in the back of my skull that’s still trying to swallow me?

I love that movie, by the way.  It’s more than a bit of a depression balm.  As is Minecraft, which I will likely play after this for a while, before continuing a compilation project for my boss, finalizing the Patreon launch for my new YouTube series, Confessions of a Drow Bard – in case you ever wondered what this world looks like through the eyes of a crazed, neutral evil elf – and whatever else I end up getting or not getting done today.


What are your favorite tips for pulling out of a depressive funk?  How do you tell anxiety to shove it?  Let me know your favorite tips in the comments!

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