I Think I'm Losing It

You're probably thinking, "Duh, we've known that for a while!" but this morning was a little example of how I'm improperly managing my stress.

So, there I was, at the gym at 6:00 to get my run on. Ok, I was there to suffer and lip sync to music on the tread mill. I hear some people call it running. I downloaded the Couch to 5K app on my phone and it tells me when to run and when to walk so that in a few weeks I'll be 5K ready. It's awesome because it just quiets my playlist for a moment to tell me what to do in a very nice and gentle way (although it yelling "Run bitch!" would work just as well).

I start off walking with my jacket on because it's cold in there, then I take it off and have to readjust my arm band or tuck in the extra earphone cord. Basically, I do a lot of adjusting while I'm running.

One thing about running on the treadmill that worries me is falling. Is this a fear everyone has? If I run too close to the handles my foot catches on the front and I stumble, if I run too far to the back I'll take a nasty spill in front of everyone, if I close my eyes or tip too far to one side doing a "hand dance" to my song then I will fall off the side. Yes, they have all nearly happened with the last one coming close to happening the most.

As I finish my workout, I walk to an unoccupied corner to stretch. An older gentleman waved to catch my attention. I wondered what the heck he would want. "You really scare me. I just wanted to let you know that you were coming pretty close to the back of that treadmill. You were like a foot away. I saw someone take a nasty spill off that before so be careful. When you run, you should always be able to grab the handles."

That was just the beginning. There were more tutorials from him on how to run properly on the treadmill. I kept trying to politely excuse myself from the conversation by thanking him for his help and finally succeeded. After five minutes.

Finally, I am able to get away and stretch. While I am reaching for my toes, I get the strong urge to cry. Yep, cry! I could not understand why I just wanted to cry. Not to mention the fact that it was taking a lot of mental toughness not to break down and let it all out right there on the stretching mat where everyone and their mother could see me.

So I did what any quick-thinking, sometimes emotional basket case would do.

I ran to the bathroom and just let myself cry.

I sat there (yes it was on the toilet but I was not in the emotional state to worry about my germaphobia) and just cried for ten minutes.

TEN MINUTES!!

I got a little bit of thinking done (classy people do a lot of thinking there, I hear) amidst the tears and snot rags.

I 100% believe that the older "treadmill expert" was really trying to help me. I do not believe that was the sole reason for my breakdown. I think it was the straw that broke the camel's back to all the stress I have been enduring. I don't always feel overwhelmed. I think I have started to deal with stress a little differently than I used to. I've started to just put it out of my conscious thinking because my big stresses are ones that are unavoidable such as we're not pregnant yet and I don't know why, I'm going back to school to do what I really want to do and I'm nervous, I'm trying to do everything right, by the rules, and without cutting corners (i.e. I'm totally letting my Type A side take over), and I'm trying to do it all with a smile.

Sometimes it's hard to keep that smile on but to be honest, I'd rather just be happy. I'm choosing to be happy rather than vent, vent, vent about my stresses. Just kind of dealing with it, you know?

Because this is life and it's stressful.

I thought I was dealing well with my stresses because I had not just broken down and cried, bitched, or complained. I just kept on truckin'.

Until I had to take a pity party pit stop (hello onomatopoeia!).

So what did I do?

I finished crying, put on my make-up, and allowed myself to have a not-so-fabulous day.

I'm still kind of down but I know that will change.

It always does.