A Tropical Depression

Hello friends!

Man oh man it’s been a while! Things have definitely got away from me as I am now starting to enter the, “I have no life because grad school” mentality.

We’ve already struck our first show, we’re in tech for another, and we’re in the 3rd build week for my show. I am drafting better and better everyday, but I’m still no pro. Not even close.

We’ve passed midterms now, my welding project was a bit of a disappointment for me, but I certainly learned a lot, which is really the whole point. We had one week to make something and I decided I wanted to make a wind chime that looked like a jelly fish. When I started the project, my boss said that he didn’t think it would be able to happen how I wanted it to, and boy was he right.

Unfortunately I never listen, especially to nay sayers, and went along with it anyways. I wasn’t able to work on it as much as I had hoped since some things got in my way with the build of my upcoming show. So it ended up looking VERY organic, but it sounds great. I kept telling people to just close their eyes when they look at it, because the intonation of the copper tubes I used sounded really lovely.

Right now my life feels very messy. The stress from my show is really getting to me, and I’ve had 3 panic attacks in less than 12 hours. It’s enough that it makes me want to talk to a doctor about this again, but all of the anxiety medicine makes me feel like a zombie and I would hate that more I think.

Plus the last time I talked to a doctor about this, I didn’t get the greatest response. I actually completely forgot about this interaction until recently when I was looking through my medical history to send to UConn. I was looking through at the notes from the appointment I made about my overwhelming anxiety after my ex and I broke up after being together for almost 7 years. The diagnosis was, “Anxiety, extreme depression, obesity.”

COOL COOL COOL COOL COOL

Like, I know I’m no model of health, but let’s calm down. Also, I’m coming to you to talk about how I don’t want to be alive anymore, but yeah let’s dig a deeper hole about how overweight I am. That’ll totally help.

How do some people have medical degrees?

That being said, I am currently laying in my bed eating cheese. But also, self care. After all of my anxiety today, I got home, took a bath, poured myself a glass of wine, and now I’m here to talk it out. Of course living a healthy life style can certainly improve mental health, but right now I just don’t think some carrots and yoga is going to do the trick.

I do feel lucky that I can identify when I am having a panic attack atleast. Kimberly was saying that one of her friends is starting to have some but doesn’t know how to handle herself, which is super understandable. When I first started having attacks, I had no clue what was going on, and so I would try to act as normal as possible, which would really just make it worse.

Now I can feel my heart rate elevate, I start to sweat, I get this knot in my chest and that’s when I know I need to excuse myself. I like to go to the bathroom, bend down holding onto the sink so my arms are above my head, and then I cry if I need to and get back to breathing regular again. Then I splash cold water on my face, chest and neck. It usually takes about 5-10 minutes for me to return to normal, but I’ve found it the best way to calm myself down.

I also feel lucky to have surrounded myself with new friends at school who understand that this is a problem I face, and who give me the space and love to overcome it. They all know that I hate hugs, so they do this thing where they reach out their hand and put it on my forehead, and that is weirdly comforting.

Alas, I have faith that tomorrow will be a brighter and better day.

Today I leave you with the words from not a song, but my favorite podcast, “Jordan Jesse Go!” This was their catch phrase from last year. “Go punch a blimp!”

Love,

Aubrey

Come on get down with the sickness

Hello friends!

Wowee it’s been a bit since I’ve posted anything! This week has been a bit nuts as we are in Tech for Grapes of Wrath, and so in true Theatrical fashion, I have come down with the plague.

I was feeling fine until I woke up Tuesday morning. My head was pounding, and I was sitting in class, sniffling, my head hurting so much that I couldn’t think straight. Then my boss asked me a question that I didn’t know the answer to, and I just started sobbing. And so I sat there and cried for 15 minutes, in class, waiting for it to be over. I had a straight up panic attack induced by sickness. It was so embarrassing.

I kept trying to get myself over it, but I’m one of those people who when others try to comfort them, I start weeping more, so nothing helped. I was supposed to work the rest of the day on the show, but the TD for it, I think being nervous I would start crying at him more, Facebook messaged me saying, “psssst… you can go home. I think you need to be on your couch in a blanket while watching kittens pretend to be dogs.” Man, these people get me already, I’m so lucky. So I went home and slept the rest of the day.

When I got up the next morning I still felt sick but had to keep going, so Dayquil and coffee helped me survive long tech days Wednesday and Thursday.

By Thursday night I was actually feeling a lot better. I thought, huzzah! I’m not really sick! And so here’s where I talk about dating again. Because I’m just so confused. And the guy that I’m seeing reads my blog so, hiiii! I’m going to talk about you and ask this blog all of the questions I have that I can’t eloquently ask you in person because words are hard and I talk in circles and when I write words down it makes more sense, I think.

Also here’s where maybe any parent figures of mine stop reading because I’m going to talk about sex. Okay great!

So the guy that I’m seeing texts me when I get out of work on Thursday and says, “Come cuddle”. And while I’m like yes I haven’t seen him in two weeks I want to do that, I’m also just leaving from work, I haven’t eaten, I’m covered in grease and sawdust, and I’m real tired. So I tell him I’m not going to his place, but he can come to mine, or I’m free all weekend. He says he’s busy this weekend but can come over tonight. So great, he’s coming over, I shower, eat, pickup, he comes over and within 10 minutes of him being here we have sex. Awesome.

So after we’re just chatting, drinking a little, I put on drunk history and we start to talk about my amazing, life-changing trip to the two-story Wegmans. I ask him if he loves Wegmans, and he says, “I mean it’s fine, I don’t really like shopping.”

….

I’m sorry. What? My brain does not even comprehend what he just says. So I’m like no, this isn’t shopping, it’s an experience. It’s TWO FLOORS. With a tequila bar inside. And a full liquor store downstairs. And it’s beautiful. Because it’s Wegmans.

He’s like, I mean, Aldi’s is great because it’s cheap. Which is like, valid. But not the same. Wegmans is a sanctuary. By now I can’t tell if he actually doesn’t like Wegmans or is just teasing me, but I’m literally upset. I have never met a human who feels this way. So I text my Office Estrogen girls and I’m like, “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. Let’s murder him, we need to rid humanity of this disease.” And these girls are my ride or die bitches and I love it. Kimberly says, “I mean there are a lot of other chips in the bag.”¬†Carleigh makes an excellent point in saying, ” If he read your blog the FIRST thing he should do is be like, “heyo bitch wanna go on a Wegmans dinner and food shopping date?” IDIOTS THEY’RE ALL IDIOTS”.

Fucking truth bomb.

I eventually make myself forget all of the hurtful things he said to me, we go to bed, and then I start dying. Like literally it’s as if while I was laying in bed, the grim reaper came and sprinkled bits of the bubonic plague on me and laughed. All of a sudden I was SO sick. I think he… is this confusing? Referring to him as he? Okay I’m just going to call him T. Maybe that will be easier to follow? Let me know.

Anyways, I think T also thinks I’m dying and is a little worried, but we kind of sleep, he leaves in the morning but barely wants to interact with me, I’m not reading into this too much, it’s early and I have the plague.

So I go to work, I take medicine and I text him.

Aubrey: “Death has swooped over me. I’m sorry if you develop the plague now.”

T: “I’m feeling ok for now. Hopefully I survive.”

Aubrey: “May the odds be ever in your favor.”

T: “Graci. If I get sick tho, this relationship is over. Lol (emoji face).”

….

I’m sorry, what did you just say? Was I having a stroke? Did you just write, “relationship”? I’m just… so confused.

I haven’t seen you in two weeks, in that time, we maybe texted each other a couple times, and snapchatted about the same. Nothing big, really only to see how each of us were doing/feeling. Now you come over, for essentially a booty call and you’re going to call this a relationship?

Now I’m not angry about this, although I don’t know how my tone is reading, I’m just really confused. Because if I’m in a relationship, I think I would know it. I would call you my boyfriend, and instead I literally called him my dick appointment. To which, he didn’t like but also didn’t try to correct me.

To me, being in a relationship carries more co-dependency; literally talking, even if it’s on the phone, not just texting. And it’s definitely seeing each other more than every two weeks, unless you’re long distance, but in this case we are not. It’s little things, like now as I’m dying of the plague, checking in to see if I’m okay, seeing if I need anything. It’s knowing what you’re doing this weekend, I don’t need all of the nitty-gritty details, just the outline. It’s hanging out with each others friends and doing things together, even if it’s just sitting on the couch watching a movie. And I’m not saying these things because I don’t want to be in a relationship with T, I’d love to, these are just the things I want if I am in a relationship.

I think for me the hardest part about dating is getting rid of unrealistic expectations, and it is my biggest downfall. I blame movies and tv shows for making us watch these beautiful ideals that will rarely ever be a reality. I am always expecting the person that I’m seeing to make huge romantic gestures; showing up at my door randomly with flowers; Surprising me with a trip to the two-story Wegmans with a reservation for dinner at the tequila bar, you know the usual. But then sometimes I watch things and I just feel like this is how life should work, and it really doesn’t. Like literally last night I was watching Trainwreck and Bill Haders character looks at Amy Shumer and says, “I like you, I think you like me. We should be a couple.” AGREED THAT IS HOW DATING SHOULD WORK. But it never is, it’s always like what are we? Are we exclusive? Do we need any rules? NO, JUST BE MY BOYFRIEND AND LETS DO ALL OF THE THINGS TOGETHER.

But we don’t say any of those things because we are afraid that if we show too much interest too fast, they’ll get scared and run away. But like, I am so all or nothing. I will always tell you how I feel and if that’s too much for you, then I’m too much for you and it’s not going to work. While expressing some of these fears to Kimberly, she said something very similar, “I go all in, I’m from Vegas. High risk, high reward. On my fourth date with Trevor, I told him I loved him, and he said it back. So it’s worth it.” I’ve never done anything slow or super thought-out, so why start now?

So then I’m thinking about these unrealistic expectations that I have created for myself, and I think of other things that I see the couples in my life doing for each other, and maybe it’s not all that unrealistic. Like, two of my professors from undergrad are married to each other, and John gives Marjean a tiny pumpkin every fall, and he’s done this every year since they’ve met. LIKE STOP IM SOBBING. It’s things like my dad calling my mom, “My queen.” It just makes my heart melt. And while I know those things develop over years of marriage, is it too much to ask to want some of those things now?

There is this stigma that woman are complicated, that we can’t just say what we want or feel. But I don’t think that’s true. I don’t want to play games, and so I don’t. I want to be in relationship, I want to go apple picking and make dinner together, I like being somewhat co-dependent. I want to talk to you before I go to bed, and hear about your day. It’s just who I am. While I am all about being a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man, I want one. I like having that other person to bounce ideas off of and to mutually support each other. I like being apart of a team. Sex is great and all, but when all is said and done, I want more than that.

Anyways, I also like being an asshole, and so in response to T’s relationship text, I said, ” Oh I thought it was already over. Since you don’t like Wegmans. Obviously.”

Then I went on about my day as per usual, did a lot of carpentry and rigging things for the show, but by like 3:30 I was fading fast. My medicine wasn’t doing it anymore, I was sneezing and coughing so much and my nose was like a faucet. I started to sound like I had been smoking a pack a day since I was 16. So when I left work, I called my mom to ask what I should take to make this go away. Yes, I call my mom about everything because as I said, I’m very co-dependent and also when I’m sick, I’m even worse and am a little whiney baby who wants everyone to help her.

So I go to CVS, talk to the pharmacist, I buy everything that they said I could take together, go home, take it all and make soup. I’m in bed by 10, sleeping like a baby, enjoying my fever dreams.

I still don’t feel awesome today, so I am quarantined to my couch and bed, which is such a fucking shame since I have the weekend off and it is a beautiful fall day outside… oh well. Atleast inside, no one will hear my whining.

And so for today, I will leave you with words from Hozier, also living that unrealistic expectation life. ” She’s gonna save me call me baby run her hands through my hair. She’ll know me crazy, soothe me daily, but yet she wouldn’t care. We’ll steal her Lexus, be detectives, ride round pickin up clues. We’ll name our children Jackie and Wilson, raise em on rhythm and blues.”

 

Love,

Aubrey