Category Archives: #anxiety

My head breaks through, and I breathe again.

My anxiety is triggered by many things, many things I have to manage on a daily basis. Yeah the whole world has anxiety I know – YAWN – The modern day excuse for not coping with life.

How I see it though, is when my anxiety kicks up a notch and smacks me over the head with a BIG SCREAMING SURRRRPRRRIISSSSEEEE , I am always actually surprised, even though I have been navigating this for about 38 years. Because, after every single episode; that can be as long as a month, but is usually 2 weeks, I think I have it beat and I’m like oh if this happens again, I have totally got this bitch covered.

NOPE! Here I am again, curled up, struggling to breathe, frantically checking my heart rate over and over again, desperately trying to act like all is cool when I am fighting back tears, and crumbling back into the child who is crushed against the floor.

It really comes out of the blue, but I do get clues, when life is busy and I’m continuously coping with its pace, I am not sleeping enough or not getting enough alone time, multiple stressors are thrown at me, and I cope, I cope, I cope and then BOOM I am not fucking coping …

I have just realized that racing kicks me off, WHY? I have goals , I do not want to fail, and now I am in a semi elite group (I am not a semi elite), as the almost oldest and definitely the slowest, I am terrified if I do not perform I will get laughed at or worse kicked out. This is all self inflicted and my own insecurities blooming with the stress of my own expectations.

I AM WORKING ON THOSE!!!

Please understand that anxiety and panic attacks are not me failing to cope, IT IS me coping! I am accepting my own imperfections, sitting in them, falling apart and rebuilding a more resilient version of myself.

Anxiety is not something you can always see, it is a silent manifestation of the mental and physical. Panic attacks are actually my overly sensitive personality combining with my overly busy life, plus dragging up my past and forming its own little package of hellish survival.

I have said this before, but the strange thing is, as much I struggle with my anxiety, I would not give it up. The constant state of high I sit in is beyond anything, my whole entire body is alert and buzzing, the world snaps into ultra HD and colors can hurt my eyes. When I fall out of the cycle, the calm is mesmerizing, and I sleep dreamlessly, my whole body falls loose and the world spins back down to normality, which I cherish. I will never conquer my panic attacks or anxiety, but I accept what they are, they no longer terrify me like they used to and I always know in time they will pass.

This too shall pass. To live my life, is to feel my life in all its gory, painful glory.

This is for all of you who suffer, I see you, I know you, I am you, I am here for you.

Love Kelly (just had another episode and survived) Joy

Why I run! A Poem

I run to release,

I run to reflect,

I run to breathe

I run to perfect

With every stride my life unravels

With every breath another path travelled

I lift my gaze, my sight glazes, the sunlight hits my eyes

I pick up pace, my heart pumps harder, problems simply slide.

Away to the wind, away with the beat, away with the thrum of the race

Pain is rising, heat is building, sweat pours from my brow, mind loosens, no thought is given space.

I flow

I pound

I slow

I float back to the ground

STOP, BREATH, SWEAT, ACHE, BEAT , HEAT, ITS DONE!

A letter to the man….

Who decides to walk his dog at 6am.

To the man who then decides to skulk over to the track, where I run alone in the sleepy dullness of a rising dawn.

To the man who makes the choice to watch me as I run past, and walk right around the edge of the track as I gradually move to the center.

To the man who loiters around my pile of water bottle, jacket, gloves and keys.

To the man who has his hood up as he circles the track with his dog.

To the man who doesn’t smile, to the man who circles, to the man with the hood and hidden face. To the man who makes my palms sweat, my heart race. To the man who makes me eyes dart, frantically looking for escape routes, who makes me formulate plans. To the man who makes me hold my pepper spray tight in a shaking hand.

I keep on running, running too fast, running in flight, ready to run away.

To the man who finally walks away with his dog, as another person enters the field.

To the man who was probably innocent of all the crimes I imagined him of.

A letter to the man….. Please think about your actions so I can feel safe.

To the man, I say “sorry it has to be this way.”

Love “a mother of boys.”

Open and Unashamed.

As always, I will start with a caveat.

I write this piece not to generate a circle of shock, sympathy, or embarrassment. I write this to be honest. To allow people to lift their heads and look away from the shame of difficult moments in time. To know that experiences no matter how terrible, hard, or heartbreaking should not be hidden. Do not conceal emotion because it might make the other person uncomfortable. Or hide beneath its cloak of darkness, as this will only shield your light, and dull your emotions.

Experiences are factual, they happened, and it is fucking OK to share what hurt, as much as what made you smile. Life does not define you, it created you, experiences educate you on how to live, about good people and bad people.  It teaches you that you are strong, and from each uncomfortable act, a flicker of kindness can be ignited. Allowing you to reach out from under the suffocating blanket of mortification.

Most of you know my story. I have always been extremely open, probably to the chagrin of many. But it is my survival tactic, once I have voiced it, it can be looked upon, analyzed and allowed to float away. I mean, It is not like I walk up on a first meeting and say…  “Hey, I am an anorexic, I have been depressed, self-harmed blah blah blah”. NO! Shit the only person I did that with was with Kieron, as I thought he was way too nice for me and could not believe he genuinely liked me. I thought I could scare him away. Instead, he told me he loved me.

Here is my list in black and white. Know I am not ashamed, yes these things can be hard, but I also know that many people have gone through the same and hold on too tightly to a guilt that is not theirs. I know many who have been through excruciating experiences and they have survived. Like all of us with baggage, they continue to live and love their lives as best they can. Especially on the days life allows that freedom from pain.

In Chronological Order: –

~At age 6 I was abused by a man in my parents’ circle – the details are not needed, my parents now know, and are heartbroken. It is no ones fault except his. It was a long time ago, and it was from that moment life started to hit me hard. It created so much pain that I have diligently had to work through. I acknowledged it in my 40s with the help of a Psychologist, and then a heavy wave of relief flooded through because everything now made sense. I am not ashamed, I was angry for long time and I cried a lot, but this was not my fault.

~Therefore, at age 9 I developed a severe eating disorder. This is why I purposely hurt my body, this is why men frightened me, this is why I was in and out of hospital, this is why I was 2 weeks from death at age 10 (malnutrition) this is why I was told to stop running, and this is why I do not like my body. But I am not ashamed, I know exactly what I am.

~I had a “Me Too” moment. As a female I know most of us have.  I am not ashamed.

~I do not like my body. I am like a spider, I have no breasts. I have learnt to understand and appreciate my body. It does not mean I think it is pretty.

~I was told when I was age 12, I could not have children. But with time, hard work (on myself) to get to a good weight, at age 30 I had my first period; yes, my first. I went on to have 3 beautiful boys. My body is now a machine to me, but it is amazing, if defied the odds, my hatred, and gave birth to life. I am not ashamed.

I lost a baby. This broke my heart and it still hurts today. It was extremely early in my pregnancy, but it hurt, it hurt so much, I felt like my body had let that sweet baby down. I am not ashamed; we do not talk about this ENOUGH as women!

I developed crippling anxiety at age 34, I had panic attacks often and they were not rational. Each day I woke up thinking I would die from a heart attack, or a meteor would wipe out the world, we would die on a plane, in a car, I struggled to do anything. The boys have seen me collapse in a ball crying, Kieron has had to listen and try to understand why I rushed myself to ER when I thought I was dying. This is where my running has helped, my anxiety improved with my discovery of abuse, this is not my fault. Medication and hard, fucking hard exercise have been a life changer. I still suffer today and that is OK.

I have been taking Prozac since I was 10 and I have seen multiple Psychologists. – I am not ashamed

I AM NOT ASHAMED, and I will NOT apologize for writing this.

This is me. I feel that people who go through this and more have something to give back. They have a light you must see, they have a light to share, they understand people, they are there to hug you hard when you hurt, to listen to you when you are sad. Because they know. They are not weird, broken, or damaged goods. It is those cracks that let you SEE THEM, to see their heart. They can help you; they can love you “right” if you let them, do not turn your back or hide, they will never judge you.

We need to talk about all these topics and more, so much more than this tiny list. People are out there being hurt, discarded, and forgotten every second of every day. Open you heart, your arms and experience and tell them – “Please do not be ashamed, I understand, and I am here for you”.

The Cotton Debate

I have not written in a while, I have been busy loving our new life in Boulder, CO. Running trails, dragging the kids up mountains and just staring in wonder at the majestic scene that unfolds around me.

However, I have been silently watching as our 2nd COVID wave or is it still the first, surge through this country and push us all back into our boxes. Mainly, because people are essentially selfish, by the way I do include myself in this, I am no Mary Poppins, although I wish I were. Yes, I have certainly experienced COVID blues and went all gung ho on it and wanted to scream “fuck it”, whip off my mask and burn it in the street, standing naked with freedom written across my tiny breasts, hum I may just have to use my forehead as any part of my body is bigger than my puny chest area. But, of course I did not, as I am a wimp and I certainly did not want to stand in a public street naked. But, mainly it is because I believe in the virus, I believe in science, I believe that the teeny tiny piece of cloth over my mouth and nose, if worn correctly, will keep me safer, people safe and enable us to get this silent virus (unless you’re coughing REALLY loudly) under control. Which means eventually, life will go back to some form of normalcy. Maybe?!

However, people have got their “its my right”, knicker’s in a twist. I have heard, read, watched the rants. As fully grown, usually sane humans throw all their fucking toys out of their pram and stamp their feet, just because a government official has made it mandatory to place a piece of cloth on your mouth and nose. Firstly it would actually muffle your screams and moans about your “rights”. Man I want to swear so much right now, as this is making me beyond angry at how this has become such an issue. Hey, yes wearing a mask isn’t fun, but neither is wearing 6 inch heels (I still do that) or going to the dentist or cleaning up your dogs shit, but we do it, because it is the correct thing to do.

There you are, all messed up because a store or restaurant has asked you to wear a mask to …..

  1. keep their staff safe, who are working to serve YOU
  2. keep other public members safe who also need to shop/eat
  3. keep you safe.

But, some crazy human beings are losing their goddamn minds over this and it is ALL about their fucking rights!!! Hey you’ll have no rights when you may just die of the virus – roughly in America, you have a 4% chance.

Do you lose your shit and mental faculties when you are told to wear your shirt and shoes in a store/restaurant? Um no and that is a way larger piece of cotton. Do you puff up and go red and bang on about your rights, UM NO. There would not be these mandates if human beings were actually cool and put these suckers on, but they do not and we are having surges. So if people cannot do the decent thing, well in come the rules and the fines. You brought it on to your self. Do not want to wear the innocuous piece of fabric, well then, just stay the fuck home and relish in your rights, don’t get angry or dickish about it, read the science, talk to doctors, speak to people who have had the virus. I am sure they do not care about your rights while they are trying to breathe in intensive care.

It astounds me at how up in arms people are about this, I am perplexed, I seriously do not think “big brother is watching me” when I wear my mask. First up they would have a job to recognize who the hell I am, with my mask on.

Your mask is a :-

  1. double chin godsend
  2. spot hider
  3. halitosis saver
  4. coffee breath extinguisher
  5. burp holder
  6. dumb comment muffler
  7. chin warmer
  8. UV protector
  9. eye mask
  10. head band
  11. emergency panty liner
  12. funky wrist band
  13. back up oven glove
  14. shit the list is endless and to be honest I’m glad some people have to cover their faces, I just wish Trump would do it more often. .

Lovely people, many whom I love, please, be kind, suck up and cover that goddamn mouth. If you cannot, please stay home and rant on Facebook about how terrible life is, because at least then no one will get hurt.

I love you by the way in your mask anger.

Love Kelly “The Mask” Joy

Why must we attack?

I would like to point out that I do not start this post from a place of anger or righteousness. Nor from an assumed higher stand point on race, religion, politics or whatever else people seem to beat each other up over, demean, belittle or try to persuade to change, using noise, anger and hate.

BASICALLY, THERE IS WAY TOO MUCH SHOUTING, not enough action and a bucket of ANGER. Everyone seems so volatile and they are turning on friends, groups, tribes, peoples feelings and thoughts. It seems at a time when we need to love harder than ever and join together, the lines are drawn, the boundaries are built and are getting taller by the day.

As, you may or may not know I am a bit of a social media voyeur, I mean I LOVE social media. I occasionally try to have an online opinion / voice, usually resulting in me getting severely burnt, crushed and then I vow never to do that again. Plus, I truly do not want to add any more fuel to the rabid fire of discord that is sweeping around us.

I scroll through Facebook over breakfast, and watch as individuals are publicly attacking each other on race views, LGBTQ opinions and thoughts, whether you love or hate Trump, whether you are red or blue, whether you are religious, not religious, believe in Coronavirus or think its a hoax. If I were to list my credentials that would potentially cause a online put down or hate fest, I would be :-

Race views – “black Lives matter”, yes I know all lives do matter, but as a white person I have never had to fight hard to be secure in the knowledge that my life matters. People of color do. Yes all lives are precious but we need to fight the point that black lives matter, to even begin to get their lives to the level of an “all lives matter” discussion. Does that make sense? Because, as a white person I know my life matters, and that has never been suppressed or disputed. Like EVER. I mean, can you imagine what it must feel like to not feel equal, just because of the amount of melanin your skin contains.

LGBTQ views – Just be you and be happy and if that means loving a boy, a girl, boys and girls. loving no one, changing sex, being fluid, being asexual. JUST BE YOU that is all. Everyone, should have the freedom to be what the fuck they want to be, no judgement. Period! I really do not understand why anyone would have a problem with it?

Politics – I cannot vote, and if I did, it probably would not be for Trump. Yet the economy before Coronavirus really has never been better. I have lots of Republican friends and lots of Democrat friends and to be honest it is OK to have an opinion and I will not try to change it by shouting. I am also not educated enough in that realm to really have a valid opinion or stand point. Yet, I agree, take the POTUS’s volatile Twitter account away.

Religion – Not religious, agnostic yes. Please do not try to change me, and I will not change you. But know this, I truly understand why you have a faith, that sense of belonging and security in thought, must be so grounding.

I believe in science, so I believe in Coronavirus and I will social distance, wear a mask and wash my hands.

OK if you need to release the boiling fire inside you, go-ahead you can use me to release it. I will listen and then walk away. As, I have always told my children, if you shout at people, no one will listen and or hit you. Yet, adults are still screaming at each other. WE NEED TO LISTEN, care for and then listen again to each other. We do not have to agree, but we need to respect views, listen some more and talk rationally.

WHY SO MUCH HATE? Is it from fear? I feel like the underlying commonality is terror, living in the unknown. We have a pandemic that does not abate (wear masks people). We have race movement that is generating change, giving voice and bringing us all up to the line to move forward as a whole, single body of people. Yet there is back lash, riots, bad elements that whip around all the greatness that is achieved, minimizing it and creating a discord, disharmony and chaos. People retreat and fall silent for fear of being attacked, verbally or physically and once again change is halted. We crawl back into our electronic holes of safety, desensitized to the life around us. Not accepting the movement that wants to propel us forward into the light, instead we allow ourselves to shiver in the dark, remaining terrified and angry. We surely cannot continue like this. SO please .

LISTEN to your neighbor, you do not have to agree.

LOVE your neighbor, even when they are ass holes.

LIKE your neighbor, see above

LIVE through kindness, as kindness is stronger that hate.

And if they shout at you, just simply walk away in silence. Because, a silent word is a powerful one.

Love Kelly “lets be chilled” Joy

Running the Flat Stanley

I have just moved to Boulder, Colorado, a running mecca (so many awesome runners here, it is overwhelming), a world of stunning beauty. So much so I have to pinch myself daily that I Kelly ACTUALLY live here – sigh, double sigh. I feel like I have died and woken up in my heaven.

In Naples, Florida, where I have transplanted from I was a decent runner, I was a toppish middle packer and placed in local races. Here in Boulder, I am pretty much scraping the bottom of the barrel with my ability. First up I am old here, in Naples at 43 years I was a spring chicken, squawk, squawk!

People run trail, some people do road, but the passion is trail. I have started to take up trail running seriously and it is fabulous and challenging. I mean my legs actually have to go UP and my body has to scramble up from sea level to a mile high. Plus, I pant like a porn star on most of these runs, how to make friends and lose them – RAPIDLY. I have managed to meet some great women already in the mere 4 weeks I have been here and they are true trail sisters, sassy, cool and bad ass, gliding up and flying down, like the pros they are. I truly have had so much fun and I adore the change in pace, but my current training is to run a sub 3hr 20 minute marathon and then one day a sub 3 hr. , my blue sky 43 year old dreams… Call me crazy, but I truly think that after lacing back up at 40, these old bones can do it.

Since moving here, I cannot lie, I have relished the hills, but it has also made me realize how much I love road and flattish road at that. Where I can hit pace and sit there in comfort or edging pain as I chase it, maintain it, sit in it, man I love it. The rhymical, steady pounding of my feet, my breath in, and out, over and over again, no stopping, or scrambling, no worrying where my feet place, all I have to do is maintain pace or pick it up. I can relax in my flow, I can hum to nature, floating through, or dragging as my heart rate kicks up and my muscles become deprived of oxygen. Pain kicks in, I dig in, I struggle, I hurt, I embrace, I recover, I continue, I cycle through again and again. Ease, struggle, pain, recover. Nothing falters, nothing stops the movement, no rock to pick over, no gradient to navigate, just a forward ,steady continuum.

Tick tick tick, my brain falls quiet, muscles and breath engage and I fall in love all over again with running on the road. Trail running is cool and technical, road running is smooth, solitary, standoffish and sometimes, most of the time where my heart, mind and sanity feels at home.

I love the mountain – I need the road.

Love Flat Kelly

Body Slammin!

Yes, it is quoted from a Prince song (love Prince).

This week in Kelly’s world, I ran head long into an emotional wall of everything. The stress that I have held so tightly hidden in the dark recesses of my mind, finally exploded out and blinded me. All sense of rational fell to the wayside and I lay there raw, burnt and exposed like a flapping fish, flailing in the mess of my cerebral matter. OMG I love being dramatic.

First up – I am so fucking tired, secondly I am so fucking tired and thirdly my kids always have to tell me something urgently at 2am – SOOOOOO FUCKKKINNNNGGGG TIRRREEEEDDDDDDDDDD.

Let me also say that as a family of 5; this includes 3 small boy fire breathing dragons, we decided to move across country, which technically is like driving across 6 countries to a completely new state. There we are shadows of our former selves, jacked up to the eyeballs on gas station fayre and we rock up to our new abode with no friends or family. All of this is achieved, slap bang in the middle of a pandemic. Stupidity, springs to mind in hindsight, or maybe lets just rip the band aid off, really fucking hard! OUCH! Anyway that is what we did, armed with masks, disposable gloves, a whole bunch of excitement and gung ho, All Griswold like, hammering it through in 28 hrs. and a Harry Potter Audible.

We arrived, we unpacked, we melted down. BOOM

Well I melted down and it keeps sweeping over me in waves of remembrance for the excited high of the “Let’s do this war cry”. Now cometh the slump, the loneliness and the inability to meet others due to social distancing. I know I should be stronger or pretend to be, but, I am not sorry that I am not. Because you know what it really is ok to feel, to be sad and to accept those feelings and then move on. So, I will sit uncomfortably in these emotions, look upon them, feel them, nor hide or run away, I will let them wash over me and float away. This may take 2 days, 2 weeks, 2 months, but they will go and I will emerge having learnt something about myself. That I am a fucking, selfish cry baby, but at least an honest one. But, if I cannot do that, the sadness will eat away at my brain, that then stops me eating and I will become ill again and I cannot do that now, because I have a husband and children who need me.

So if you are sad, be sad, angry, be angry, but share and you can always share with me.

Love, Kelly “it is ok to be sad”

Sometimes I just do not want to….

COPE.

As the Rona drags on people all over the world, either in lock down or social distancing at home are rapidly starting to fade. At first everyone was all gung ho, fighting in unison, fighting the good fight, the right fight. Joined in one goal, united to save the world, unnamed heroes for the weak, compromised and elderly.

We were strong and shiny, relishing in this new world of change and as they say “a change is as good as rest”?

However, time has creeped on and some poor souls are still navigating lock downs and the rest of us are social distancing. The shiny patina is cracking and the levels of distance are getting closer, as people become bored, tired, depressed and sloppy.

I hold my hands up, I may be one of them, letting the slide begin. My hands bleed from the amount of times I wash them and they hurt, I want them to stop hurting. The new life is now OLD, our resilience and stoic determination has turned into a secret longing to escape and break all the rules. The slide of darkness has begun and the depression and anxiety I fight so hard against, are digging their tiny little claws deeper and deeper into my skin and are beginning to break through to the bone.

I’m tired and the anxiety is knocking hard at my shell. Every day I fight off a little panic and then another panic waves over and my breathing gets short and I am convinced the virus has come to drag me to the nearest hospital. A mist settles, stubbornly at the periphery of my vision and I see the world through a haze. Nothing is clear and all is obscured. I want to run hard, to run far and hope I can out run my fear. I want to drink to ease the adrenaline, but my eating disorder will not allow it. Because, walking hand in hand with my anxiety is little Miss Anorexia and she can be very persuasive; albeit a very slow runner, as she does not eat enough. My tools are in place and my sanity understands the whirlpool I peer into, trying not to dip a toe in and get sucked into oblivion.

I need to get out, we need to escape. The world needs to be released, to conquer fears and viruses and figure this shit out. I am a shadow, sucked dry of trying to be fun, positive, creative, a good mum, a caring wife, a thoughtful friend. I want to be selfish, self centered and just walk out the door, not to come back for a day.

Sadly, the days will continue and I need to figure my crap out, look at it, accept it and see myself for who I am. Slightly damaged goods with a time well earned, super hero cape, that floats all glittery and shiny over my broken core. I know my life is not as bad as others and I am not sad. I am just trying to cope, the only way I know how and if that includes a 20 mile run, a eating disorder and a few panic attacks, that is mine to own and I will not apologise for being honest about it and showing it to you. It is my gift to you, to share, to reveal and to understand your feelings are yours and yours alone and no one else is allowed to minimize them and tell you they are irrelevant. They are yours, a gift of your strength and for you to release the burden, as this can lessen the pain. I am here to take that for you and relinquish it with mine.

I am exhausted. I am your friend, I am honest, I am raw, I will not apologize.

Signed

K. K,” so over being good” Joy