My Incredible Love of The Hulk...

    I've never really been one to get into comic books or to idolize superheroes, however, in recent years I found myself developing this strange interest  in The Hulk.   I grew up watching the TV show, and I'm sure my brother(s) may have had action figures or Hulk toys of some sort too, but I never really thought much beyond thinking the show was really good, and I watched it as often as I could.   But in the last few years, I found myself extremely angry, suppressing that anger, and yet wanting to lash out in some really BIG way.  I found myself confiding in a childhood friend on a daily basis, and he provided the best advice I needed at the time.   Just HULK SMASH it!!!

    "HULK SMASH!" became my "go to" motto for quite awhile to get me through the rough stuff.  My friend would send me movie clips of The Hulk and his famous HULK SMASH!!!    Those clips would go on replay throughout the day on those particularly bad days when I just didn't know how to handle my anger and sadness.  I began to envy The Hulk for his ability to SMASH the source of his anger to pieces.  I wanted so badly to have the ability to just crush those who had hurt me, but I just honestly didn't have it in me.  I felt too much compassion for those who had hurt me.  I felt guilty for being angry.  I felt like an awful person for wanting to lash out.  Did the Hulk feel this way too?  Of course he did!  He wanted so badly to control his anger.  He fought to control his anger.  You weren't supposed to let anger control you and turn you into a monster. 

    I can relate to The Hulk on many levels.  Bruce Banner had repressed childhood trauma.  He was a child of an alcoholic.   He was withdrawn and had difficulty making friends.  He suffered a devastating loss of someone with whom he was finally able to have a close relationship...and it crushed him.  He was ultra sensitive to adrenaline increases.  He did everything possible to try to hide his anger, his emotional damage, his feelings.  As Bruce Banner, he was a brilliant, self-sacrificing, and heroic person.  He was on a constant quest to find a cure for his condition...his exposure to radiation (and abuse)...the direct cause for his inner turmoil that would release the beast from within.  He was committed to controlling the emotional  monster that was not welcomed. 

   As anyone who has been with me can attest, I become giddy  when I see the likeness of The Hulk--On screen, in action figure form, in statue form, comic books, toys, etc.  I've even been known to call him my boyfriend on occasion.  He is MY superhero, because he represents my hidden anger, my suppressed emotions, and he gets to HULK SMASH them all, and later return to his human form.  Those that are close to me know that I am famous for holding in my anger and emotions and then later exploding (just like The Hulk).  And when I don't, I resort to my usual passive-aggressive style of dealing with my unwelcomed emotions.  I throw out subtle (and not-so-subtle) messages to nameless targets in hopes that they will "get it" without my actual confrontation.  I despise confrontation, because just like The Hulk, I react badly physically to adrenaline increases and become physically sick, dizzy, overly-emotional, and light-headed from it.  I lack assertiveness because I've never learned the proper way to assert myself comfortably and confidently without becoming physically sick from my own fear of being told that I'm not allowed to feel the way I feel.   

    Just like Bruce Banner, I'm searching for the cure for my inner turmoil.  With the help of a professional counselor,  I'm slowly learning how to assert myself properly when necessary and am building confidence in doing so.  I'm seeing the benefits of standing up for myself and allowing myself to state my worth and importance to those who previously put me on the bottom shelf,  way in the back.   I'm slowly learning that it is and always has been okay to feel what I feel and have the emotions that I possess.   Anger is okay.  Sadness is okay.  Fear is okay.  And, expressing those emotions and others is okay too as long as you do it without harm to yourself or another.  So, as I work on learning balance, I'm hoping my passive-aggressiveness will wane, and My Hulk and I can learn to express our emotions in an even better, more smashingly Hulky way.    

I Quit!

One month ago, I decided to do something good for myself that I've really needed to do for a long time.  I had my last glass of wine, my last beer, my last drink of alcohol for awhile, or maybe for forever.  Who knows?  That part is yet to be determined.  I've been wanting to and needing to quit drinking for awhile now, and have tried unsuccessfully many times.  Life just got really complicated and difficult for me to deal with over the last several years, and instead of dealing with it properly, I chose to numb my life with alcohol.

                 It started innocently enough with a couple of glasses of wine a night to just relax...then 3, then 4, then the whole bottle + more.  After some time the habit was fully in place and my tolerance level was pretty high.  I watched a beautiful woman suffer and eventually  pass from this earth at way too young of an age due to the effects of alcohol and other factors and thought that would be the catalyst to get me to quit.  I tried, and failed.  Why couldn't I stop drinking to honor her?  I was very angry at myself and very disappointed that I let her down and my family down.

                More months went by, and even though things in my life were getting better, and I didn't really "need" the alcohol to numb my life anymore, I still just couldn't stop having that nightly drink that turned into that nightly bottle.  My blood pressure was already high and was just getting higher, and I was finding that blood pressure meds were not even keeping it down enough.  I just physically felt awful most days--headaches, increased anxiety, panic attacks, heartburn, fatigue, and etc...   

                I thought about quitting again at the beginning of summer to start a new healthy lifestyle, but then I convinced myself to wait until after our family trip to Napa Valley in July, well...because it's been a lifelong dream of mine to fully experience Napa Valley.  So, once again, I put it off.  I had a great wine experience in Napa Valley, but again...felt the negative physical effects of drinking so much, so I vowed to quit when I got home from the trip.  Then news came that we would be having our annual family camping trip the first weekend in August followed by my wedding anniversary celebration dinner at a new restaurant with, of course, a great wine list.  So, I brought my box of wine up camping and it was just enough for the 3 days we were there.  Again, I felt physically ill from the mixture of drinking and the altitude....heart racing, heartburn, headaches, etc.  I told myself again, that I just need to quit drinking to feel better.  But the anniversary dinner came, and the wine was great....and a couple more weeks of drinking went by with more excuses and more of just feeling "crummy".

                Finally, on Sunday, August 23rd I just decided that would be my last day of feeling awful, and I decided I wasn't going to drink anymore.  I finished the bottle of wine I had left in the house, and probably the beer too...I don't recall.  It didn't even sound good anymore.  I just simply got tired of feeling so terrible, and this was going to be the best thing for me!  The next day...I felt great!  And Tuesday, I felt fairly good too, but started to feel a bit of anxiety return in the evening.  Wednesday was another good day, but again, evening anxiety returned and I was physically struggling.   I didn't want a drink at all.  It sounded awful, in fact, but I just felt so "not okay inside".  When I tried to sleep that night, (which usually is a very quick, hit the pillow and I'm out kind of thing) I found myself struggling to rest my mind and my body started feeling really weird.  I was dizzy.  I felt shaky.  I felt overheated but yet had goose bumps all over at the same time.  I felt as if my legs were shaking internally underneath my skin.  I felt as if I might be dying.  I was terrified.  I sat up and told my husband that I just wasn't feeling okay.   I didn't want to believe my own fears that I was dying, so I just convinced myself I was having a panic attack, took a valium, and my husband rubbed my head, neck, and back for a long time, and eventually I was calm enough to fall asleep.  The next morning was more anxiety, high blood pressure, and feeling "not okay".  Wasn't I supposed to be feeling GOOD?  I quit drinking, after all.  I should be feeling GOOD!  I started researching causes for all of my symptoms, and BOOM!  It hit me like a wrecking ball....I was having ALCOHOL WITHDRAWALS!  You're kidding, right???  Alcohol withdrawals???  Me???  Shit!  I couldn't believe that I had allowed myself to get to this point where quitting a bad habit would actually cause my body to rebel and scream out in agony at the void of that bad stuff I had been feeding it for so long. 

                I began reading how serious this could be and how long it might last.  I was determined to just push through these awful symptoms for just a few more days, and I'd be just fine.  I had just a couple more Valium pills left from my February car accident and I rationed them taking only in half pill increments over the next few days while I fought through the ugly rebellion.  By Sunday, I finally felt a bit better and was relieved that it was over, only to have it return again that night with a vengeance.  After all...my body was used to having that nightly "fix".  Monday came again with another day of struggle.  How long was this going to last?  Or was something else wrong?  My chest was tightening, and the dizziness and anxiety were consuming me.  I had to see a doctor.  This gave me even more anxiety.  What if I'm actually having a heart attack?  My head was spinning.  Picturing myself telling the doctor about my alcohol problem brought tears to my eyes.  I was now THAT person, but I still HAD to go.  I had to know what was wrong. 

                I signed in at the front desk at the after-hours walk in clinic.  The lady asked me what I was there for, and I told her I quit drinking and was having bad panic attacks.  She said that wasn't something they would see me for unless I made an appointment (because it wasn't considered a severe enough problem), and appointments were already being scheduled weeks out.  I told her I had tightening in my chest and was concerned about my heart...which was true, but also the magic words I knew would be necessary for them to allow me to be seen that night.  I had to wait for 90 minutes with increasing anxiety, chest tightening, and chills.  Was I going to die sitting here waiting?  Was I having a heart attack?

                I finally got called back to a room and was seen by the Physician's Assistant on duty.  She checked me over and agreed that my symptoms were all related to alcohol withdrawal.  I cried while explaining my past alcohol usage to her.  I was filled with shame and embarrassment .  She told me how the brain gets used to having that alcohol and how my brain is now really upset with me for taking that away.  I had disrupted my brain's neurotransmitters with alcohol, and now again by taking it away.  She was glad I came in, as withdrawal symptoms can be really serious.  She gave me some medications that will help me through the withdrawal period and help to manage my anxiety.  Xanax for immediate relief, and Buspar  for longer term relief.  Apparently it can take up to 6 months for the brain to return to a normal state after one stops drinking.  It's pretty scary to realize how badly you can ruin your own body with bad choices.

                Anyway, I'm now 30 days sober, and still experiencing some not so good effects most likely caused at least partially by my drinking (gastric ulcer).  I have no problem being around people who drink, or going to events that have alcohol (so please don't exclude me).  I do notice that my sense of smell of alcoholic drinks is much more heightened now, but I still have zero desire to even take a sip.   It just doesn't even sound good.  This will probably be the only post I make about my decision to quit drinking.  I won't become one to continually announce my days, months, years or whatever it is of sobriety.  I think that's important and really wonderful for those who do track and celebrate that accomplishment.  I just don't really feel that is a need for me in my situation.  I just really felt that I needed to make this one blog post about it to bring awareness to the reality of excessive drinking, how easily it can get out of control, and how difficult but necessary it is to get back to a healthy state of being.  I hope, if anything, I have urged each person who read this to take a close look at their own bad habits, and make a step towards kicking those things to the curb as soon as you are able to.  And, please...proactively involve your  healthcare provider with your decisions to make healthy lifestyle changes as to avoid some of the ugly things I had to go through before engaging assistance. 

PS:   I'm proud to announce that my blood work came back yesterday with only a slightly elevated bilirubin count, but was significantly lower than my elevated bilirubin count from a year ago, so my liver is getting happy again.  :)

Be well!  

Meet my Sensitivity

     As some of my friends, family, and social media "friends/followers" have seen, yesterday I once again let the world "get to me",  hurt me, and anger me.  If you haven't already noticed, I have been identified as a truly "highly sensitive person".   This means that I am more sensitive than most  to lighting, certain sounds, smells, colors, crowds, feelings, tastes, tiny little details, surroundings, experiences, and more.  I also am someone who gets easily affected by others' moods, struggles, triumphs, and the like.

      I also notice subtleties around me easily such as a lone tree in a field, a unique flower or plant in the outdoors, an uncommonly shaped or colored rock, a particular cloud, a slightly different mushroom, a beautifully plated meal, an enchanting tune, a spark of happiness,  an awkward smile, a dissatisfied look, a deceitful glance, etc. I think you get the idea.  And I'm certainly not saying that I'm unique here because I notice these things. I'm sure many of us do.  What I'm trying to convey is that I not only notice these things, but I FEEL them all very deeply.  They move me in ways that many that are not like me don't and won't ever understand.  For example, when I see a llama or an alpaca in a field....it's not just a cute (or as some think, ugly) llama or an alpaca in a field...it is PURE JOY in my heart.  I actually feel ELATION at seeing that beautiful animal with the silly face.  It fills my entire being with great warmth and bright energy.   When I see that wild sunflower on the side of the road growing wild and unruly, I don't just see it--I feel bright love and happiness from its ability to be a beauty producing "weed" of sorts that was somehow able to overcome its harsh environment.

     All of that being said, the other side of that coin is that I also deeply feel life's pain, sadness, and anger to a heightened degree.  I take things much more personally than I should.  I own my feelings as well as other people's feelings.  I absorb them.  I love intensely.    When I say I will pray for you or your loved ones, I stop what I'm doing,  I pray, and then I worry.   When I pray to God, I truly FEEL God listening to me.  I feel important to Him and worthy enough for Him to listen to what is on my heart.  And, when someone tells me or the world that my belief in God is silly, absurd, stupid, ridiculous, or something similar, I get VERY hurt.  I have never told a non-believer or a believer in another form of religion or spirituality that they are wrong, silly, stupid, or anything even close to that.  I believe that we all have our faith, belief, spirituality basis from our own experiences, teachings, and our own life and  inner spirit.  I have zero desire to ever hurt anyone by telling them that their belief is somehow stupid or wrong, and I hurt deeply when others don't practice this common courtesy as well. 

     I also consider myself to be very conscientious and observant.  I notice when something isn't right with someone.  I don't always know the right thing to do to help others, but I notice, and I try everything in my sphere of knowledge to try to make that other person feel more comfort, and look for solutions that may help them.  I admit that many times I don't know or possess the right words or solutions (and often mistakenly think I do), but my heart becomes fully engaged in helping to find comfort for the other person's struggles.  I'll admit that my motives have been questioned many times for doing this, and I have let that deeply hurt me as well, as my only motive was to be helpful and caring.  I have no desire to gain anything from my assistance other than the satisfaction of knowing that I was able to be there for them in their time of need and to be joyful with them when they are able to overcome their obstacles.  I reach out when I sense that someone is hurting or in need while others have told me I should just leave them be to solve their issue on their own.  I invest my time, my energy, my talents, my ability to listen into other people's worlds because I truly care about them and the outcome of their struggles.  I'm not "looking for drama" as some would accuse.  I detest needless drama and those who create it.  I'm a problem solver, a fixer, a helper, and an empath.   I take it personally when others refuse my help, push me away, or accuse me of having ulterior motives.  My intentions are pure.  I just want to help.

     Conversely, I'm not always engaged in the role of the "helper".  Sometimes, I need help too.  I hate feeling needy, and I really don't like to admit when I'm weak or hurt or angry, so when I do, I am ever so grateful to those that will truly listen, care, and offer empathy or solutions to me in my time of need.  I hurt and anger easily when I trust people with my heartfelt feelings, and that trust is betrayed.  I see the glances thrown around in my presence telling me the story that my feelings I just shared are somehow "not valid", and it deflates my spirit.  I hear the gossip come back to me from others that my confidence was breached, or that my life choices are now the subject of conversation and criticism outside of my presence.  I hear the fat shaming and rude remarks about my weight, and how I should just put the damned French fry down.  I hear the "over-talking" while I'm sharing my issues, telling me that my words were not heard or were not nearly as important as yours.  I hear the "But, what about me" immediately after I shared my inner most thoughts, feelings, and needs with you, and realize that once again...I have no voice and no right to my damned overly-sensitive feelings in your eyes.     

     At the urging of someone very close to me who is clearly unhappy with this part of me, I sought answers and solutions from my counselor to help me find better balance with this behavior or trait that I possess.  I'm currently in the beginning stages of learning first about the "why" I am the way I am. (Very eye-opening, so far!)  Later will come the analysis and work of determining what parts of my interactions I am needing to and able to modify in order to bring my overwhelming  sensitivity into a healthier balance. 

     So, for now, I'm just simply revealing my Who, What, When, Why, Where, and How of my journey to those who are interested.  And, to those who aren't interested...for now, please just don't tell me, because my feelings will likely get hurt.  ;)