I’ve been in a real rut lately. I feel alone, troubled, misunderstood, and unmotivated as hell. I left work early today, because I just don’t care anymore. Yeah, when I’m unmotivated, it’s serious. I can’t even show up at the office just to clock in and draw that paycheck.

I was thinking today that maybe I’m bipolar. And I don’t mean to be flippant about mental illness. But I just feel rather unsteady. I mean, since the end of September, I’ve been such a Debbie Downer. Sure, every now and then something brightens my day, and maybe for a few short moments, I feel blessed and happy. But those are just moments. Overall yeah, this trajectory has gone to the shitter. So why the marker at the end of September? Well, that’s when my manager of five years got fired. Abruptly and unexpectedly. It was the day before our department’s biggest event too, and the explanation from above (though none is legally required for “at will” employment) was generic, lame, insincere.

Certainly, this is all within leadership’s rights. For me though, this is but one of several serious missteps. I no longer trust the leaders. And when I don’t believe in my heart that leadership is inherently good, I can’t just sleepwalk my days. The activist in me tried desperately to change things. I tried to stay hopeful and optimistic. But here we are at the end of the year and every day at the office is just an act of going through the motions, of feigning interest. Who lives like this? (Sadly, probably a lot of people).

I suppose this is what happens when I become disenchanted or disillusioned: I just plummet into this zone where everything seems to suck the life out of me. I feel like a fraud; I feel insignificant. Mostly, I’m disappointed by the status quo around me and within me.

I’ve been going to therapy alone… I can always count on the end of the year to make me feel like a loser, like someone who hasn’t accomplished jackshit. I read all these sites on positivity and on being good to yourself. Maybe they buy me a few minutes of peace; then, I feel like all hell is breaking loose– at least internally. And of course, my emotional state/cycle never seems to jive with John’s. So when he feels like shit, I’m in a good mental state. When I feel like shit, he’s in a good mental state. Is that good or bad to be out of sync that way? I don’t even know.

I just feel restless. In the month following my manager’s departure, I couldn’t sleep and I had no appetite. I lost about 10 lbs in one month. Oddly, I then went to Taiwan where for some reason, the family stress had the opposite effect and I started overeating. Now, two months later, I’m mostly back to my original weight. There was nothing wrong with it, and I intended to at least pack back on some of the lost weight. But now it’s turning into some bizarre control thing. Like I had convinced myself that the lower weight was still solidly within my BMI. And now that I’ve gone back up, now I feel dissatisfied, like things are jiggly and wobbly. I know, a total first world problem. And you would think in light of all the news, none of this would matter. But like I said, I’m fucked up, and it’s a control thing. I just got a Fitbit, so new year new problem. You know how it is.

Two weeks ago, I started getting this insane mondo cyst on the side of my nose. Seriously, it was the size of a dime… on the side of my nose. I hadn’t gotten cysts in a really long time, and then this one was like a double mondo, with two bumps inside one. Naturally, I started freaking out– I was obsessing about it day and night. I have no idea how I convinced myself to leave the house during that period. Anyway, I felt so desperate, I started popping zinc pills like they were going out of style. And what do you know, I fucking gave myself mild metal poisoning. How the hell was I supposed to know that taking 8-10 times the RDA would do this? I’m a goddamn idiot. So yeah, I started getting stomach cramps and pains; I felt nauseas… and I only realized what was happening on a fricking whim. Like one day I decided, hmm, wonder what the web says about taking lots of zinc. It was kind of at that moment that I realized, I could be one of those people who overdoses on meds. Seriously. I look at those pills: they are so damn small. 3 mg of zinc or melatonin or whatever. They are tiny as hell. Anyway, the whole thing was a good reminder to myself to not be an absolute dumbass. Uh hello, am I the daughter of a physician or what? Fucking asinine. The good news is that the cyst is mostly gone, but a small bump is still there. And it’s discolored because I poked and prodded it so damn much. Whatever. On to other issues. And yes, there are plenty of them.

So back to the work dilemma. I met up in October with a friend who’s all into coaching and leadership and “living the dream” and shit. Yeah like Tony Robbins kind of stuff. I hadn’t seen her in a long time, and I have to say, she was just transformed. I mean, normally she’s a positive person anyway but she was super trimmed down and she just looked and sounded great. So I started on my buzzkill story of having to look for another job, boo hoo. She asked what I was seeking, and I gave some nebulous reply: that I didn’t really know but I hoped to recognize it when I found it. She suggested that I be more specific in identifying what I wanted to do. So she recommended a book about identifying and pursuing your dreams… I started reading this and well, now I really feel stressed because of course, I want to be able to identify a dream, a passion. But going through the exercises, I feel now like I have none. Like I’m just this boring, directionless, dabbler/wanderer. What the fuck am I doing with my life?

Yeah, I guess I had allowed myself to believe in the journey rather than the destination, but after reading the book, I feel like there needs to be a destination. And my personality has an affinity for the end goal…

Does it feel like too much self reflection? Yeah, I think so. And yet, I want to ask myself these questions? Can you sense my anxiety?

My therapist says I need to learn to be ok with feeling unsettled. That I need to practice mindfulness: notice that I am unsettled but don’t exacerbate the situation by topping it with anxiety. I can kinda see what she’s saying.

The thing is, I’ve been here before. This whole midlife crisis thing? This is like my third or fourth time going through it. Seriously. Why does it keep coming around? I have no idea, but I wish I could get this shit resolved once and for all. In the past, it was resolved through a new job. I was so happy when I landed that nonprofit tech job. Then management made some shit moves and I got disillusioned, plus I was sick of the bullshit nonprofit pay. The second time I had a crisis, I got out of it when I found my current job. God, I really thought it was the best: blending web tools with advocacy work. Then again, management made some dick moves and the environment just started to get stale. Now I read job postings and nothing sounds interesting. Nothing meshes with who I am. What the hell happened to me? When did I become such a boring, nondescript person with nothing to offer anybody?

For a long time, I felt really good about where I was. I was happy and fulfilled, but the people around me, the people I loved were not. I kept trying to figure out how to solve their issues and their problems. Now, I’m so relieved and thrilled that so many people I worried about, they found their way. They are happy now, and I am so proud and happy for them. But now I’m in the shithole. Maybe this is life’s way of throwing me a bone or two. When there’s a down, there’s an up somewhere. It’s never all down or all up.

I know, I sound like a spoiled brat. I know my life is really good. I just wish I could get it sorted, you know? I often think back to when I was just a kid– before the school anxiety and stress attacks of middle school set in– when I was a really young kid. I wondered how any kid who had a dog could complain or be unhappy with anything. Seriously. You have a dog. Your life is totally golden. And here I am with two of the loveliest dogs ever. And I’m a Buzzkill Betty. How/when did this happen?

I will say that one constant through all of these crises has been my friends. Different ones at different times, but always a steady stream. My therapist agrees that they have always helped me get through my struggles– be they personal/individual, marital, familial, professional… so thanks to all my homies out there. 🙂 I hope my issues aren’t a burden. I’m trying to hash them out… slowly and hopefully surely.

The new year is right around the corner. I’m hoping for a lot of things but most importantly, I want to continue doing things that make me smile: playing ukulele, singing karaoke, riding horses, hot tubbing, spending time with the puppies, watching tv dramas (Nashville), hanging with friends, hanging with Bubbey, and traveling. I’ve got lots of places already on the books, so yay to new adventures. Oh and maybe in the process of all this fun, I’ll find my next gig. Isn’t that what they say? Good things come when you’re not looking.

Whadya know, I got frickin’ sick (again) just before the holiday!! Just a sore throat kinda thing but dang, it dragged me down through the holidays. I just wasn’t my usual jolly, exuberant self. Guess I did kinda get over-confident: After I felt a tad bit better on Sunday, I went horseback riding in the insane wind/rain/cold. Then, I really got slammed.

Still, wth happened to “my body is a temple”? Fucking bullshit.

So among other things, Santa got me a Fitbit (so I can start moving my lazy ass) and Scrabble!!! Shiiiit, my newfound WWF (Words with Friends) drama, which I started while ready to stab my eyes out in Taiwan, just does NOT end!! For realz, that crack is consuming my life!!

Other activities from the holidays: we sang more karaoke, hiked the Stanford Dish, cooked, stuffed our faces, did some home improvement, and watched way too much Entourage… Ugh, it rained crazy for DAYS!! Thank goodness we stayed in town and didn’t have to put up with flight cancellations and delays. That would have really sucked.

I’m grateful that the sun finally out today. I’m practically getting rickets from this Vitamin D deficiency.
Yup, I headed back to work the day after Christmas. You know the deal: ILAWB (Industrious like a worker bee).

So after Thanksgiving, I headed south for some R&R with my galpal P. It was just for a short weekend, but boy, we crammed a shitload into three days!

On Saturday, we went to the salsa dance club in LA– The Mayan. Damn, people wear some SHORT, TIGHT shit!! The club was monster and there were themed rooms with different music… I saw some really awesome salsa in the main room which had a live Latin band. Also witnessed lots of bumping and grinding in the hip hop room. At times I had to cover my eyes! But overall, it was pretty fascinating just watching P light up the room. She was mesmerizing! Shit, dudes were coming up to her left and right asking to dance! Really. ALL NIGHT LONG. We were there 10-2, and she must have been asked to dance like 15-20 times!! She’s just one of those head turners… she doesn’t intend to, but she makes all the women around her seem really dumpy. 🙁

But the CRAZY story is… well there are two stories: I nabbed a thief who took something off our table and dashed off. I was watching our table where everyone had put their purses and phones and wallets… then all of the sudden, while I was looking at my phone, a guy came over, grabbed a phone off the table and darted onto the dance floor. I was a little confused about what the hell just happened but then I chased after him through the crowd, grabbed his arm, swung him around, he opened his hand and it was empty, then without thinking/speaking, I patted down his front pocket!! He just stood there stunned. And then, I shoved my hand down his pocket and fished out an iphone!! All without saying a word!! Turns out, the phone belonged to the woman at the table next to us!!! Yeah man, I’m a vigilante even at the club!!

And the other huge news was that I danced with a dude– and he was really good looking??!! WTF?? It was the strangest thing: at the end of the night, after I’d been feeling like a real ugly duckling, I was literally standing along the wall waiting for P to be done dancing already (I think I had even started a new Words with Friends game), and a really handsome dude all decked out in a suit came up and asked how things were going. I kinda just assumed he was talking me to ask about P, who was dancing ten feet away. Then he took my hand and asked me to dance. Say what???? I did a double take and being the nerd that I am, I was all like, “Are you sure? You don’t want to dance with me– I can’t dance. Let me introduce you to P: she’s an awesome dancer.” I know, I’m a dumbass. I did end up dancing with him but shit, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I tried to remember the basic steps, but then I couldn’t feel the beat and several times I just stopped, stood there, and watched his footwork. It was fucking stressful! But he was super sweet, and after the song was over (it felt like an eternity), he kept wanting to dance more… dude was crazy!! At some point, I even stumbled on my own fucking feet!! Ridiculous… I’m such a cheese. But heck, check it off the bucket list: danced with a random cute guy. Hehe.

On Sunday, we went to Disneyland and rode the rides at CA Adventures. I did a looped rollercoaster for the first time ever (I know, apparently I’m getting all bold and gutsy in my old age). We also hit a tattoo shop in downtown LGB– I had wanted to look through some of their books to get ideas. Damn, that shop had THE trashiest portfolio. Ugh. I’m traumatized just thinking about it. The shit people get inked on their bodies… Seriously, can they at least TRY to keep this classy? Btw, tats cost like $150/hr!! Who do these tat artists think they are, freaking entry level lawyers?? Absurd.

All and all, another grand time with my bud. Til our next outing!!

The other day, I was reflecting on how this past year has gone. For the most part, I rate myself a 7 out of 10 but in the last four days, since returning to Taiwan, I’ve dipped to a 5 or 6. The thing I’ve come to realize is this: there are few things worse than being misunderstood. And boy has this year been chock full of people misunderstanding me.

It’s been another rough year for John and me. Feels like it’s probably been a rough COUPLE of years, actually. At some point in the last several months, we even considered a trial separation. We somehow managed to dodge that bullet, and we started therapy again. And what I learned from therapy turned out to be so disappointing. All this time, as I have scrambled desperately for ways to help him out of depression, he has only come to see me as someone who is judgmental and who enjoys tearing him down by highlighting his shortcomings.

For months, maybe even years, I tried to hide my frustrations with his inability to cope with the stresses and pressures of his work; I tried to be patient as he tried to figure out a way out of the darkness. I tried method A, method B, method C. I felt like I had tried everything, even if it meant re-training myself or even denying my own person… When the internalization grew so overwhelming, I found myself voicing my displeasure to him. I found myself verbalizing what I saw as inconsistencies between what he said and what he did. Instead of him acknowledging my pain, instead of him appreciating my concern, instead of him apologizing for anything, he only reacted defensively, and our distance and disconnect grew larger. When we returned to therapy a few months ago, all kinds of disturbing secrets surfaced. He accused me of name calling; he said I was a bully. I suppose he was only being honest about his perspective, but words matter to me. I only say what I mean and mean what I say. His words hurt me. How was it that all my good intentions and heartfelt efforts had been received in this manner? I had done so much out of love, and in the moments when the frustration finally made me crack, I was criticized for being unsupportive and unloving.

I had been trying to explain my loneliness and sadness at feeling neglected and un-treasured. And suddenly, all of this had been misinterpreted. This drama has since passed, but I still feel sad just thinking about being misunderstood by the one person in the world whom I had thought knew me best.

Every time I see my mother, we get into some kind of fight or argument. She presses my buttons by trying to guilt trip me about this whole child-free choice. I then try to explain that witnessing the situation between my brother and my parents is a large reason why I don’t want the baggage of raising kids. She then turns it into some fucked up interpretation of me being jealous that he’s the first born and that they are still spoiling him and supporting his ridiculous lifestyle and not doing the same for me. Seriously, how many times do I have to explain that I don’t care about material things. I don’t need or want their financial support; it’s not about feeling financially cheated as the other child. I really don’t give a fuck. But she always twists it into some version of that. And it drives me insane.

The thing is, if he were a considerate person, if he actually demonstrated some selflessness and sincerity in loving my parents, I couldn’t give a shit if they spent their entire savings on him. But he’s a selfish, self-absorbed asshole, and they want me to stand by and support this obscene scenario where they just keep giving without receiving anything in return? I won’t do it. I won’t be quiet about the matter. So this bullshit just goes on and on unchanged. Ten years ago, I had to cut him from my life. At the time, he had been living with us in Virginia. The hubs and I were slated to move overseas to Shanghai in three months. My brother went on “vacation” in Taiwan and then never fucking came back. Who had to move all his crap out of our house on top of handling our own overseas move? Yes, exactly. And that is just one example of his long history of inconsiderate behavior. After that, I had to extract him from my life, because I was done with all the fits of rage and blowouts this person caused. So we are estranged, and you know what? I have not had any more fits of rage since. This is what I had to do to obtain some peace of mind. And instead of understanding and recognizing that, my parents and relatives to this day still say that I have a hard heart, that I don’t understand the concept of “blood is thicker than water.” Somehow, I’m now the villain.

It’s all a pretty frustrating state of affairs. The thing is, I spend a tremendous amount of time cultivating relationships– friendships, my marriage, my parents… I do a lot of thinking, planning, communicating… it is downright exhausting, but I do it because I actually give a shit. So when all this effort and thought gets warped into some fucked up misinterpretation, it’s really upsetting. It makes me want to just become a hermit. It makes me sad that I take classes and read books and watch lectures on communications and social intelligence and somewhere, somehow, people just think the worst. If my spouse and parents– people who have known me forever can’t see the good intentions, what’s the point? Is it really that difficult to “get” me?

So I’m back in Taiwan this week… I have to say, the entire week prior to my trip, I always feel a sense of dread. Friends and people at work never seem to get it: they always say, “Oh, that’s so wonderful you get to see your family. You’ll have a great time!” How weird it is for other people to just assume that family relationships are awesome. (This is why you can’t support abortion legislation that requires parental notification: you just can’t assume every daughter has a functional relationship with her parents!! I digress.) Anyway, I always feel anxious before I’m about to see my family, because the whole meet up just triggers a ton of bad habits.

I’m traveling solo again this trip– same as last year. I scored some flyer points and managed a freebie round trip ticket. But cost isn’t the reason I’m here solo. Bubs is still swamped at work, and he has only two weeks of vacay per year, so he gets pretty stingy with it. Anyway, I traveled for almost 24 hrs. via Seoul, arrived in TPE, and then took a bus/metro to finally arrive at my parents’ house late Sunday night. On Monday morning, my parents and I hopped on the high speed rail and headed south for my grandfather’s house. Seriously, just like clockwork, less than 24 hrs. after landing, my relatives began their usual harassment campaign. It didn’t help that my cousin, who just had a son 18 months ago also popped out a second one two weeks ago. Look, I’m not opposed to other people choosing to become parents; I just don’t want to be one myself. Blah, blah, three aunts later, I’m still getting a talking to. Details in a bit.

So on Sunday, my brother gave me a book: The Power of Habit. I’m reading about the habit loop– and how there’s a cue, a routine, and a reward; and I’m realizing that my interactions with my family are part of this habit loop. Every visit involves some kind of discussion surrounding expectation, potential, happiness, and disappointment. Yeah, I spoke with Bubs this morning via Skype, and I was relaying my conversation I had with my eldest aunt last night. He agreed that shit always gets heavy when I see my family. So my body and mind just can’t help but feel stressed from these visits. And yet, I HAVE to visit. Grandfather is 91; my parents and aunts are getting older… I want to see them while I can, and yet I don’t. Do you see the conflict? Every time, John just tries to chock it up to different cultures and different generations. All of that is true, but do you know how hard it is to be asked:

Do you know how happy your parents would be to have a grandchild? How can you deny your parents’ happiness? Do you know that in Taiwan, if a child were told how important this is to the parents, she would never deny them this opportunity?

And apparently, my grandfather is beside himself over just how American my brother and I are. I mean, there’s my father– Mr. Perfect Son– and in just one generation, there are two freak kids: one doesn’t believe in marriage (committing to one person the rest of his life) and the other one doesn’t want kids.

Sure, it’s easy to say I adopt the “American” ideal of living my own, independent life. But at the end of the day, I’m grateful for all that my parents have done for me and I want them to be proud and happy with who I am. Already, I have issues about where I am on the “life success” scale, so to just feel like they don’t understand or respect or honor my choice to nix parenthood and furthermore, they hinge their happiness supposedly on this one thing alone, it’s a tremendous amount of pressure and stress.

I constantly grapple with feeling inadequate and feeling not good enough. I try to live my life with principle; I try to be a good daughter, a good friend, a good wife, a good citizen. But there are demons that I can never seem to escape– when I travel alone, I suddenly grow overwhelmed thinking of all the dreams I had for myself to become a certain person. And then sadly, I realize that I still haven’t become that hope for myself; I still have so many places where I am lacking and now, I’m 36.

Life doesn’t stop for anyone, and what am I doing? I swear, this is like some self-destructive crisis I go through over and over again. And it certainly gets triggered every time I see my family.

I feel unsettled and anxious. And I just keep chasing something with a sense of urgency… I don’t know exactly what it is that I’m chasing, but I just feel like I still haven’t found it yet.

Austin was a blast! 48 hrs in and out. My college bud J, whom I hadn’t seen in like 4 years, looked exactly the same… just like he did in college, except for the new eyeglasses!! The three of us partied it up on Sixth St., caught some live music (Ben Cina??), played lots of pinball (I suck, but he’s a master), played monster Jenga, witnessed some crazy raunchy shit at the Trophy Room (where they have a mechanical bull…), scouted out Lady Bird Lake (why’s it called a lake when it’s a river?), and ate TONS of BBQ.

Halloween is the ONLY day of the year where I actually like pictures of myself. Yeah, all other times, I look like a tard in photos.

Unfortunately, I didn’t win the costume contest (again) this year, but shit, I had such a blast!! If only I were this badass in real life, right?

J3 and I were in Albuquerque for the International Balloon Fiesta! Who knew such a wondrous event would take place in such an odd place. Anyway, we lucked out with the weather, and my oh my, the fields and sky were utterly magical! Highly recommend!

My coworker/friend R and I headed to Nevada City, CA for the Draft Horse Classic. Another grand adventure indeed!

My coworker/friend R and I headed to Nevada City, CA for the Draft Horse Classic. Another grand adventure indeed!