General Nike of the Bootstrap Brigade

This is a general rant.  I’m stuck on my writing and I decided to just vomit all over this topic.


I’m feeling inadequate.  Not helpful.  A burden.

Depression demons are the worst.

Insight helps.  I actually know why I’m feeling like I do.  Understanding my reactions allows me to deal with them better. I’ve always been a big “why” person; I like knowing what makes things tick.  Theoretically, knowing how something is supposed to work makes it easier to fix the defective, but there’s another angle to this.  Sometimes it’s also so that you know to just accept the defect and learn to manage around it.

I get a lot of “why aren’t you better yet?” from the Bootstrap Brigade.    Leave me the fuck alone.

That’s easy to think and type.  Saying it— or a more polite version of it— is still difficult.

Being defensive doesn’t help me. I shouldn’t have to justify my process to anyone.  Yet I find myself faced with some version of “you aren’t doing enough” or “you should just_____”.   Guess what, folks. If involuntary, physical reactions take over, one does not have control over them.  Just like you can’t will your heart to stop and start on command, I cannot will my depth perception to stay steady, my body from shaking, and my mind from dissociating.  Nike slogans do not apply.

But but but.

I know.  Yes, CBT techniques retrain the brain and reactions.  I’m using them to manage the OCD. Currently I’m under the impression that getting a handle on the intrusive thoughts will cut down on what I’m calling “self-inflicted anxiety attacks”.   Depending on what’s happening around me, it can be difficult to remember to use the tools (unless you have a fabulous stepdaughter who is in the grocery store with you, realizes that you need a frozen orange and hands you a pint of ice cream to hold which breaks the cycle and makes you laugh).  I’m getting better at it.  It’s like anything that requires practice and remembering to practice brings up a whole slew of issues for me but that doesn’t matter.  I see it. I recognize it. I’m working at it. I’m “just do(ing) it”.  Thank you, Nike.

It’s the random anxiety attacks that still really piss me off and there are tools for these too but I’m not ready for them just yet.  Therapy is like going to the gym.  You have leg days, arm days, core days, cardio days, so forth and so on, except the days are counted in months.  Maybe years?  I don’t know.  I’m impatient and switch my focus often.  I know, I know… it’s not efficient but hey.  I’m a work in progress.

The random attacks annoy me because I’ve been in the Nike mode  for a few years.  I’m constantly, actively working on recovery. And it’s exhausting.  It’s disheartening to be having a fabulous day and suddenly have to deal with anxiety.  There’s no precursor to the attack that I’ve noticed.  No intrusive thoughts, no visual cues, nothing physical that triggers it.  It. Just. Happens. (Yeah yeah yeah… the unconscious is always at work, stirring up trouble, yada yada yada.  I’m ranting about it. Leave me alone.)

Here are the key sentences to all this:  My plate is full enough. I am handling what I can, when I can. If my process isn’t fast enough for you, I share your frustration. Now back the fuck off and stop adding more stress to my life.