Downward Facing Worry

Yesterday I went to yoga class.

I know its sort of cool to be a gym rat. But I'm not. At all. I f-ing HATE the gym. I don't feel better when I go, i don't feel relaxed; I feel hungry, sore and tired. Case in point - I have not been to the gym in 2009. Matter of fact, I can tell you all the exercise I have gotten this year. I went walking three times - twice for 4 miles and once for 5 miles (although that was an accident, I missed the marker to tell me to turn back) and I have been to yoga class five times. The end. I am gonna ride this fantastic metabolism and blessed gene pool for all it's worth!

In addition, I find the whole process boring. Even if you go with a friend, if you're working out hard enough then you can't talk, which means it's just you and your thoughts. And I spend enough time with me and my thoughts. No need to add sore hamstrings to the mix. I thought having an iPod would help. Turns out I was wrong. I still find myself drifting off into thought, only to realize I have only run on this godforsaken treadmill for 6 minutes and 12 seconds and there's no way I'm going to make it to 20.

So you can imagine the desperation that led me to yoga class last night. I know he's not going to call or text, but somehow I can't help but to check my phone obsessively every 15 minutes. I'm watching tv or talking on the phone or whatever, and I find myself trying to trace back what happened, where it all went wrong. Trying to go to sleep is the worst. Every second I close my eyes I start dreading whether or not I did a good job on my last project at work; what, if anything, the senior associate thinks about my capabilities; whether I can make partner (a mere six years away mind you) and whether I even want to.

I am worn out with the 24 hour thinking. I just want to tune out for a little while, preferably without the aid of illegal street drugs (I would probably just spend the whole time I was high worrying about becoming an addict and losing my teeth). So I drag my usually lazy ass to yoga class. Not just any yoga class. Hot yoga.

Now, I like the idea of yoga, but I find it just as stressful, as, well, anything else. "focus on your breathing" "hold you stomach tight" "REACH for the celing" "don't forget to breathe!" all while trying to do something virtually impossible, like touch my toes.

Now, the other time in 2009 when I went to a hot yoga class, I found it relaxing, because I had one singular thought: DO NOT PASS OUT. First, because I'd be embarrassed and second because none of the employees had the good sense to take down my emergency contact information, and I am not trying to wind up at cook county hospital because they don't think I have insurance. But the point remains that for 50 blessed minutes I didn't think, and it was wonderful.

But turns out its never as good as the first time. Thoughts still crept up in my head even though I thought I might die from those backbends. It was like having the tv on mute - the flashing lights still catch your attention from time to time.

So, obviously, the problem is not the gym (well, not entirely). The problem is me. I am not one of those people that can be fully involved in work or cooking or shopping online or whatever it is. There's always a background commentary running, wondering, worrying. I think I'm too afraid to confront my fears head on, so I spend every waking moment with them in the background, hoping that I'll find a solution without the intensity of a direct focus.

The question is, now what?

Growing Up Is Hard To Do

Ever have a conversation with someone that you know will change you, even as you're having it? I had that convo today.


I told my friend Nikki that I feel frustrated, because it seems like when I'm trying to be a better person and do better, my efforts aren't rewarded. They say crazy is doing the same thing and expecting a different result. So how come when I do something different I still get the same result?

I think I just needed to vent. Nikki is much more religious than me, and, at this stage in my life, more spiritual as well. So I expected to hear something about what God would or would not do, etc.

Instead, Nikki said this: Sometimes you have to be patient. I think a lot of times when we say we're going to be better, and then we expect our life to change immediately. You know what the right thing is, you just have to have faith that doing the right thing will lead you to the right path.

Patience and faith? It'll be easier for me to become an astronaut and a neurosurgeon?

Me: Well, if nothing's happening, how do I know I'm doing the right thing?

Nikki: Well, you know in your gut what's right. You just have to trust your instincts.

Patience and faith and trusting my instincts? Son of a bitch! I am screwed. But Nikki is still right. I think too often we (I) go back to our old bad habits, whatever they may be, because becoming something different just takes too long. No matter how scary it is, or no matter how intense my fear of failure/rejection, I am committed to evolving!!

Alone in a Crowded Room

Lately I've been aware of my alone-ness. It's not really loneliness, although I guess that's part of it. It's more the detached awareness of being lonely, mixed with a feeling of....hopelessness? I don't know, that sounds more dramatic than I intend. Maybe resignation. I live in the third largest city in the country but I might as well live in bumblefuck, wyoming for all the real interpersonal action I get.

I don't think this post has a real purpose. Just an observation.

How To Save a Life

She won't listen to reason. Not, bossy, subjective, neckrolling "what you need to do is" reason. I mean real basic life-just-doesn't-work-that-way reason.

I've always been a firm believer in live and let live, letting people do their thing, make their own mistakes. Plus I've found that people for the most part that people will change/make decisions etc. when they're ready. There's no real way to force any one's hand.

But this is different. This is a series of bad choices that is going to end badly, coupled with a staunch refusal to consider alternatives. Can I watch my friend pole vault blindly off the cliff without so much as raising my voice to say watch out? Am I being a friend?

Regardless of whether she'll listen, don't I owe to to her, and to myself, to try and help?