Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Insane in the Membrane

If you know me at all, you know that I am a crazy person. Not the "oh my goodness, I think she is unstable" crazy, but the "oh my gosh I made one mistake and my entire life is over" crazy. Some may call it neurotic, I just call it my standard MO.

Oddly enough, I feel like this cat looks quite often.

Sidenote: I just looked up that actual definition of neurotic and there is a whole host of issues that it could be, including perfectionism. Gee, great.

I like to do things right. The first time. And if I can't do them right the first time, well then I just fail at life and I deserve to just suffer endlessly for all eternity.

Trust me, living in my brain is no fairy tale. It isn't exactly a nightmare either. It is just...crowded.

What do I mean by that? I have lots of different people talking to me all the time. No I don't "hear" voices. They just talk to me in my brain. Let me explain. One voice that I hear frequently is my mother. She usually gives me sound advice during my decision making processes. She also commiserates with me when I am feeling particularly anxious. Another voice I hear is my dad, telling me to chill out. He also gives sound decision making advice. DTM's voice is in there too much of the time, reminding me to do things because I forget a lot of stuff, like library books and my lunch. The most prevalent voice? Mine. Except it is the mean version of me. The one that says the nastiest things to myself. Things like I am going to be laughed at or reprimanded or fired for the way I do things. She tells I am not good enough at my job or school or life in general. She finds every tiny, negative thing I do and brings it to the forefront and highlights it. Endlessly. She also tells me that I look terrible a lot, but she is totally lying. I look fabulous in my new Athleta capris and I know it.

Lots of times I tell her to shut the hell up. But there she is. In my head. Picking. Picking. Picking. Until I want to rip her out and beat her with a sledge hammer. Unfortunately, if I do that, I will have to bash my own brains out and as mean as she can be, I like my life.

Seriously.

So what do I do? I make DTM and my two other wonderful friends listen to me and talk me down. And I write. Much of what I write doesn't end up on here because, let's face it. No one wants to read about emo CrossFit. PS, I just Googled that phrase and nothing interesting came up. How sad.

I also ignore mean Alison a lot. And when I can't get her to shut up through ignoring her, I lift heavy things.

Like today. Today we front squatted. 5 sets of 5 reps for work sets. I PR-ed for 5 reps at 175#. That shut her up a bit.

And then we did an 8 minute AMRAP of:

1 Hang Power Snatch (75/55)
1 Overhead Squat

I did 66 rounds as prescribed.

That felt good. She is still picking at me, but she is out of breath and her voice is much less shrill. Hopefully she will be completely hoarse by tomorrow. Serves her right. Jerk.

Oh....I hope we do jerks tomorrow!