Saturday, February 18, 2012 a brick is sitting on your chest

I was on Linkedin the other day and reconnected with a couple of my colleagues from Bimbo. It felt like the first time I got on Facebook after high school- I was giddy with nostalgia. I was only at BBU for a year, but it felt like forever. Perhaps this was because I worked the equivalent of 18 months during that year.

My time in the bread business seems like a huge part of my life, and in many ways it was. As I was reconnecting with the executives I am fortunate enough to consider friends, I started to miss that life. I felt so in control of my future. I felt like I knew exactly where my career was going. I felt appreciated by most of the people around me and I felt like everyone wanted to see me succeed.

Here's the truth:
I did feel in control of my future- but not my emotions or habits or relationships.
I did know exactly where my career was going- a place that was not conducive to family or kids or balance.
I did feel like everyone wanted to see me succeed- but at what cost?

Let me be clear- my job was my saving grace during that time. I didn't have time to address my limitations because I was too busy trying to be perfect in the way that I thought was important. I hadn't yet learned how to separate my job from my life so my job was my life. I internalized everything. Rather than accepting small, imminent hurdles that I considered defeat, I took everything personally and let it paralyze me for hours or days at a time. I loved the rush that came on the good days and the ability to spend and do whatever I wanted. But I also love trips with my family and friends, leaving the office by 6 o'clock on Friday and not thinking about it again until Monday, and being able to think about something besides bread.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Roll away your stone I'll roll away mine
Together we can see what we will find

Don't leave me alone at this time,
for I'm afraid of what I will discover inside

You told me that I would find a hole
With the fragile substance of my soul

And I have filled this void with things unreal
And all the while my character it steals

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

jan 2011

it feels like a brick was sitting on my chest, or like i had swallowed an apple whole. i was alone because i preferred it that way. it was 4 am. why am i awake. my answer didn't come until i looked at my calendar- i had a 5:30 meeting. i asked my mind how long this would last because i needed to be able to do my hair. my mind didn't have an answer because she wasn't functioning. she was asking me when i was going to pay attention to my emotions. i thought if i called justin he might be able to tell me to snap out of it, i would only listen if he said it. he was asleep. i forgot we hadn't talked in weeks. that made me upset.

i went to my yoga mat. i just lay there. sometimes when i get on my yoga mat i automatically start breathing slow. that would be a welcomed break from these short choppy noises that indicated my attempt to squeeze air in and out of my lungs. when that didn't work i put on my tennis shoes. i ran up to the roof. back down to the bottom. back to the top. back down. i repeated this until my knees buckled.

i got in the shower. maybe if i went through the motion i could evade this panic. immediately, standing became the most arduous task so i sat down in the hot water rain. eventually, i got back in bed. my sheets felt soft. henri was awake by now. poor guy. i wish i wasn't alone. then i'm glad i'm alone because this isn't me.

in the months after this moment, when people comment on my strenght i want to tell them about that morning.. that feeling. that weakness within me that causes my emotions to explode into one horrible momentary lapse in the ability to think or breathe.