Losing my imagination?

Maybe I'm just losing my mind.    The medication I take to curb my anxiety and panic attacks leaves me feeling like I have no creativity left.   


I know that isn't true.  I could come up with tons of things to do, creative things.  However, my energy level to get me started just isn't there.  That is because of my medications and my condition.


Meanwhile, I was thinking about a way back when scenario... I would have these elaborate ideas and from those ideas came inspiration which brought actual things to life.  Sometimes the inspiration would just be to deep clean the house and ta da I would get it done.


BUT, you knew it was coming... those elaborate ideas often came without my medication so when I sunk into the throws of panic or depression it was severe.  Doomsday scenario kinda stuff.


In order to get back to the feel good release of creativity, I'm just going to force myself to do things.  First off, write this post.  I'm a good talker, story teller but I let my conditions keep me quiet most of the time.  No more.  I may not post every day but I will write something. 


The next step will be to do some crafting outside of the internet.  I have lots of unfinished objects.  I will set a goal to complete one a month, clear the shelves for something else. 


Wish me luck.

No longer picking at my self the PTSD is causing panic attacks.

Ever have a random thought, or memory pop in to your head?  Did you enjoy it?  Lately those random thoughts have been plaguing me.  I'll hear a snide remark from 30 years ago or something said just last month and I'm ready to be hospitalized for a heart attack.  So I'm 44 and menopausal. My anxiety attacks, panic attacks, or cookoo moments bring along hot flashes now.  The worst place to feel the effects is my feet.  I'm laughing right now... I give you permission to laugh too.  Sweaty feet is not uncommon around here because it's Oklahoma and the temperatures are nearly 100*  so my feet should sweat in my New Balances but when I'm strutting my stuff in my sandals or flip flops my feet should be cool and dry not so sloppy wet I feel like I wore them in the pool. 


So I'm slip sliding around on my shoes, my knees feel like I'm walking on ice and one wrong move can cause a disk to at least feel like it's slipping in my lower back.  Then I get angry.... Don't talk to me.  I'm about to verbally disembowel the next person who says "hi" okay, I don't.  I'm more professional than that but the chick who just cut me off speeding to her spot in the car wash line as I was creeping through the parking lot trying to dodge all the hand dried cars parked there.  Well I called her some creative names. I instantly feel guilty, convicted and another heat wave begins in my shoes.


So when people say words hurt, they're right. But nice words hurt too. Supportive words in the time when someone really needs the truth can also be damaging but we have to discern which time it really is.


Meanwhile, I'm trying to hold back a panic attack right now because a 2 ton gorilla in a blue tutu just danced across my mind. I will not go back to that moment when I'm in a choke hold in a hallway.  I had the right to stand up for my beliefs but um don't stand up to someone who has new found skills in hand to hand combat...you end up in a headlock.   okay I'm coming out of it.  I have this irrational urge to do some Thai Chi.  It's after midnight and I'm under the influence of a sleeping pill, I think Thai Chi would be a little dangerous to attempt in a dark house.  Maybe I should sleep and just dream about Thai Chi... who would be my teacher tonight?  hmmmm, that's a good way to deal with a hot flash thinking about men.