I'm not gonna lie, its been on my mind a lot lately.

Primarily, I wonder, "Why do I stress out?"

I never wondered this before Rex and I got married. I just thought that I was a stresser, because of my gender (sorry, ladies) and because of my genetic disposition. I come from a long line of stressed out females (thanks a lot, mom) and just assumed that not only was I predisposed to it, but immersed so much in stress growing up that I had virtually no chance of recovery. 

When I got married, I was thrilled to have someone to share my burden of stress, to completely understand where I was coming from and sympathize with my stressed out behaviors. Boy, was I wrong! Rex is the opposite of a stresser. He just looks at me like I've gone bonkers and tells me there's nothing to worry about.

At first, I chalked this up to guys not really getting the whole "empathy" thing. Guys don't need to have heart-to-heart conversations in which one guy pours his soul out and the other guy nods and looks sympathetic! Guys don't need their friends to roundly abuse The Enemy with them! Girls, however, do! I would get frustrated when Rex wouldn't give me what I needed - a shoulder to cry on and a talk that should have gone something like this: "Catie, you are absolutely right - everything is doomed!"

It's taken me almost 3 years to realize that Rex is right and I am wrong. His mom has shared a book with me that Rex authored when he was 4 entitled, "What's a Problem and What's not a Problem." The main point of the book is (you guessed it) identifying things that are problematic (ie you should worry about this) and things that are not problematic (ie don't worry about it). More recently, we've talked about this idea of worrying or stressing over something "problematic" fairly regularly, as I (along with Arthur Dent) haven't mastered the age-old proverb "Don't Panic."

When you boil everything down to the bare minimum, I've concluded the following:

1) I cannot control ANYTHING. *I cannot control anything* means that regardless of how much I create elaborate scenarios in my mind about how so-and-so will respond when I say "X," I cannot know what so-and-so will say until (IF!) I even say X! Stressing out about uncertainties wastes A LOT of time; at least, it does for me, as I can't do ANYTHING when I'm stressing except maybe Facebook.

2) I cannot change ANYTHING by worrying. *I cannot change anything by worrying* means that if something bad is looming (a reprimand at work, a service charge for overdrafts at the bank, etc.) worrying about it WILL NOT affect any change. Its possible that I can change something if I take action, but only action (and not worrying) will accomplish things.

3) Stress is counterproductive. *Stress is counterproductive* means that, when I realize that only action will produce results, I am basically shooting myself in the foot when I sit and worry instead of make a plan or enact parts of a plan. Even Step 1 of a plan is leaps and bounds closer to results than worrying!

4) Stress compounds exponentially. *Stress compounds exponentially* means that when I allow myself to stress about something, it is easier to continue stressing and add stress about other issues on top of the initial stress. Its like that Lays slogan - Bet you can't eat just one. Your brain stresses once, and its hooked. It keeps stressing, and learns to feed on stress. Pretty soon, your brain looks for things to stress about!

5) Stress is eventually incapacitating. *Stress is eventually incapacitating* - its necessary to understand that if stress takes over, pretty soon all ability to function normally will collapse. I have experienced this numerous times in my life; I stress over a job or project or ______ (fill in the blank) so much that I render myself incapable of taking any action at all. I am unable to pull myself out of my Slough of Despond to work on anything or make life better. I end up wallowing in feelings of "I suck," because that's what stress produces - feelings of inadequacy. It forces you to ruminate on mistakes and "shoulda, woulda, coulda"s until you snap or bounce back. Luckily, I've bounced back every time, but its a truly vicious cycle.

The sneaky thing about stress is that it often masquerades as, "I'm being serious about my life and don't want to screw it up." You can even tell yourself that if you're not stressing about how to pay the bills that you don't care enough to be an adult or productive citizen. If you're not stressing about making your credit card payments, it means you're a slacker. How treacherous! How "slippery slope" of you, Stress! Stress gives you ulcers and taints your relationships (don't believe me? Try being so upset about everything all the time that your significant other can't handle you.), yet somehow manages to make you (me!) believe you need it.

I say all this to remind myself more than anything else. I need to be reminded why that painful knotting feeling in the pit of my stomach is bad for me, and why my life will be much better without it. Because, let's face it, life IS better without stress. I get more done, I have a better time, and I can focus on others more. Stress gets in my way! I can't write my thesis when I'm stressed, I can't enjoy my job when I'm stressed, and I end up being really lazy and unproductive in general when I'm stressed.

I also say all this to myself in order to dig myself out of my currently 10 feet deep "stress-pit." (get it?! cesspit!?... sorry, lame joke.)  Post-vacation blues have got me stressed, unfocused, and unproductive, but I'm determined to kick the stress to the curb. I'm ready to go running again, exercise my brain some more, start (and finish!) some home improvement projects on my days off, and enjoy the hell out of my life. Every day is a new beginning - so, tomorrow will be the day. The day I do something (ANYTHING!) despite the despair. The day I ignore the stress and just do life anyways. And the next day it will be easier, and the day after that easier than the day before. Pretty soon the stress will be a memory, and hopefully when it tries to slip back in I'll recognize it for what it is - a poison that keeps me from being, well, me. 

I've had several ideas for new posts running around in my head lately, but this one wins today.

I will attempt to discuss my thoughts on confession without offending anyone, or making absolutist statements that I can't support. Here we go -

Confession is a big deal, when done properly. Its very easy to "confess" to a wrong doing, or take responsibility for Situation X in a way that benefits no one. Someone accuses you of failing in some area, and the natural reaction is to say something like, "Yes, but..." The "but" is the key here, I think - unhelpful confession is the kind that admits culpability while maintaining the opinion that you were somehow justified in doing whatever it is you did. 

I think there are a few reasons for this type of reaction (probably more, depending on the situation). First, it is too easy to focus on the failings of your accuser to the exclusions of your own. We (by "we" I mean people) tend to compare ourselves to one another, mostly in the hope of finding something about us that is superior to those around us. Maybe not *everything* superior, but something to give us a self-esteem leg up. If we are confronted by someone we don't particularly like, or someone with whom we have already begun making these types of comparisons, it seems more likely that we recoil in anger (or something like it) rather than consider the possible truths in the message. Second, being called out on something is embarassing. Regardless of how many people are witnesses, its embarassing to have others know you suck at something. Oddly enough, even though everyone I talk to admits that they mess up at something(s) on a consistent basis, we don't like to have others perceive our failures. Its one thing to tell your friends, "Man, I'm really bad at such-and-such" but an entirely different thing to have others tell YOU, "Man, you are horrible at X." Finally, self preservation plays a huge part in our responses to criticism. We like to maintain our image of ourselves as not perfect, but really not in need of much help to make it.*Actually* confessing to something makes us admit to ourselves that we're not all that and a bag of chips.

For a long time, I was vehemently opposed to what I called "Confession the Catholic way." I thought, "I don't need a *person* to tell me that God forgives me, Jesus took care of all that already!" I was very suspicious of going into a little box and talking (no, confessing) to someone who had no more right than I to commune with God. Rather than actually think through what confession was good for, I dismissed it as outdated and even (sigh) Un-Christian. 

In recent years, as my ideas about Christianity, God, and Jesus have begun to change radically, I've started to ponder lots of issues from what I hope is a more level-headed perspective. I've begun to realize that confession isn't about someone else telling you that you're wrong or even that you're forgiven; it seems to be about becoming vulnerable with yourself and your peers (or whomever you happen to be confessing to) in order to say, "I messed up. There aren't really any excuses other than my selfishness." The benefit of this, I'm starting to realize, isn't that you begin to feel pious all over again and are ready for a fresh start like I used to think. Rather, it keeps you maleable. If you are constantly willing to examine your motives and actions honestly, you are "confessing." Interestingly enough, confession doesn't seem to be something that you have to do out loud all the time; sometimes your issues are internal and no one but you knows you're approaching things with a bad attitude or hidden agendas or whatever. In instances like these, confession keeps you honest with yourself and helps you correct the bad stuff going on inside.

Confession is more about you than it is about anyone else - not to sound like a weirdo, but if you are seriously interested in being a better person (and not in blaming others because you suck), confession is key. You begin to be nicer to other people, your temper-fuse is longer, you start to care about the happiness and well being of others, etc. Confession isn't as complicated as the church makes it sound - it isn't mysterious or hokie. The beauty of it is, if you begin to confess to yourself, you probably have to confess to others less, because you become more mindful of your internal well being.

Ugh. I realize this might sound like a self-help book, but its really not supposed to. I just know that I become bitter, judgmental, and cynical when I don't confess to myself often. I get hardened and wall myself off from certain types of emotions or situations because I don't feel like facing them. It sucks to do it, but its really important for me to make myself. I'm more teachable and less argumentative when I do, and I can see the good in others that my self importance wouldn't let me see before.

I've managed to discuss this idea of confession almost completely separate from religion, and that's something I'm pretty pleased about. One of the things that makes me the most willing to continue pursuing my "relationship with God" (whatever that means) despite my severe aversion to almost all things church related is that God is practical. I believe he CAN and DOES relate to my everyday life - not that I have to split my life in half with the "reality" part and "spirituality" part. Confession is a legit human thing; the church doesn't have a monopoly on its benefits. Confession isn't some mystical religious invention that can't make sense to non-religious (dare I say normal?) people - it is beneficial regardless of your religious affiliation or lack thereof. Note that my discussion of confession was pretty limited to human interactions; confession to God is a completely different topic that I will leave alone today. :)  

I've been on a fitness kick for, oh, I'd say the last 7 years. One would think that after so much time, it would be a habit and not a kick, right?

That's my thought for today - its interesting how something that occupies so much of your mental energy (occasionally) and time (spent in the gym) can still end up NOT being a habit.

I've been exercising since the day Lindsey decided I was her new guide to the gym. (More on my awesome old roomie later!) Her visual impairment plus her need to train excessively for triathalons led me to my first treadmill. I've gone through periods where the gym was my one triumph every day - I remember a time when I could run for 30 minutes straight at a speed of 5.3 without feeling tired or winded. (Don't hate if you're an awesome runner!) I remember when my body looked good - flat stomach, firm thighs, thin upper arms - and it was enjoyable to maintain my shape at the gym.

I've also gone through periods of extreme stress that render me incapable of succeeding at much - when school or work overwhelms me, I tend to shut down, and the first thing to go is my exercise regimen. If I feel like I've got too many things to do in one day (ie MUST teach, MUST grade papers, MUST plan lesson, MUST work until 1am), I freak out and do as little as possible. Maybe I should explore this bizarre tendency soon...

Anyways, when I was younger, I was able to eat all the BBQ chips and drink all the Dr. Pepper I wanted without looking like I had. Minimal gym time was required to still look decent. Now, however, I'm in my mid-20s, and realizing that not only will a healthier eating regimen boost my energy and overall body wellness, but it is a necessity to weight loss and muscle fitness.

What a cruel lesson to learn, that you can't eat all your favorite foods all the time! What a cruel time to learn it! Health and fitness were never mentioned in my family growing up, and we always ate "good southern cookin'" (read: pinto beans and fatback). My dad was a bean-pole, so I assumed I would be as safe as he was re: thinness.

Not only do I seem to be floundering in the grocery store when it comes to healthy food alternatives, I've found that I don't really LIKE vegetables (maybe because I rarely ate them as a kid?). And someone please shoot me for always reaching for potatoes or wild rice as another pairing to almost any meat/fish! I don't know what I'm doing - I only know that I need to do "it".

Luckily, Rex has decided that he needs to eat healthier, smaller portions and run on a regular basis, too. We're both trying to cut down on soda intake to cut calories, eat filling (not large!) portions, and exercise daily. Its been a big encouragement.

Still, something needs to be done in the way of making this a permanent change. At least one day a week I am horrible and eat chocolate frosted donuts with a giant can of Coke for breakfast (like, today?), or am overwhelmed with the thought of overhauling my ENTIRE food intake or rebel at the thought of completely giving up my sinfully delicious food cravings. Self control is something I've always been lacking, in every area of life... but this is one thing in particular I want victory in! I want to eat a salad before my meal when I go out to eat because its good for me, and not be sad that it makes me not save -room for the main course. I want to choose water over soda more regularly because water makes me feel better (really, it does!) even if it doesn't taste better. I want to willingly limit my sweets and bad-for-you-foods to small portions as treats occasionally because I've learned to like my healthier options just as much.

Ah, now I'm rambling - the point is, I'm not quite sure what it takes to make something a habit, and this "something" is a habit I would dearly love to call my own. I'd like to quit running in circles with my diet and fitness regimen (succeed, crash and burn/fall off the wagon, rinse, repeat) and make them into a lifestyle I can be proud of and (perhaps most importantly) ENJOY.  

You do what you have to do.

That's always been one of my mottos; sometimes, you have to do things you don't want to do, or hate doing, or didn't forsee doing. Such is life. I always thought that my own personal "you do what you have to do" things was work multiple jobs.

It started in college when I decided to move into an apartment with two friends instead of continuing to live on campus. We wanted freedom from oppression (more on LU and their lovely rules later) and independence; and after all, when you're almost 21, you're definitely mature and adult-like.

Anyways. Because of the full-time nature of my schooling, I couldn't work full time at one job. So, I did what any resourceful college student does - I started waiting tables. Along the way, I added teaching piano and TA'ing to my list of jobs, until I was working 3 jobs plus taking 18 credits a semester to finish my degree. And since my degree was music performance, I had to fit practicing piano in there somewhere, too.

All in all, it was a very busy, stressful time. I barely had time for working out and sleeping (my two hobbies!) and didn't pick up a book for almost a year. Eventually, I got worn out and gave up waitressing. Still, juggling two jobs and full time school was stressful. I always assumed that soon I'd have a *real* job and this would be a thing of the past.

Fast forward 3 years - I've since graduated from college, gotten married, and entered graduate school. Along the way, I've picked up a job waitressing and a job teaching music theory at the university I attend. Sound familiar? Still trying to graduate, too.

The reason this is interesting to me now, though I've not been unaware of the pattern, is that this spreading-myself-thin thing is, well, spreading-myself-thin. I'm performing at less than my best in ALL areas now that I'm so divided. Even more interesting is the fact that I have free time now, and I'm still performing at less than 100%. I teach for one hour per day (one class). I have almost all day, usually, to do whatever, before working in the evening. I have all day to work on school related things and to prepare for the next day.

And yet... my projects still suffer. My thesis is not finished yet, because I cannot devote 40 hours/week to its completion. My classes aren't stellar, because I can't devote 20 hours/week to being completely awesome at teaching. My house will not stay clean, because I do not have 15+ hours/week to take care of things like laundry, dishes, and dusting.

My brain is somehow rebelling at being pulled in so many different directions that I have become unhappy with what I do on a day to day basis. I work because I help support our family; I teach because I love it (and it pays my school bill!) and am preparing to continue teaching as a career; I "thesis" (yes, I just made that into a verb) because I need to graduate and have a masters degree. I do each thing on my agenda for a reason - but having to do all of them at the same time is making me unhappy.

I hope I am not foolish enough to suppose that "the grass is always greener" and suggest that only one task for the rest of my life will always make me happy. I am, however, pondering ways to reduce the amount of responsibilities I have so I can focus on fewer things and *hopefully* be better at them.

In keeping with the lameness of the first post title, this entire blog will be filled with lame things.

Ok, maybe not all of them are lame - but I tend to find myself far more interesting than anyone else does, so I'm not holding out for widespread approval.  This blog is one (more) attempt to get my thoughts out... since I can't always hash out ideas with friends, family, or peers, this is hopefully going to be helpful. And, let's face it, even if I could hash things out with the aforementioned groups of people, how many of these people like to be sounding boards all the time? Exactly.

So the title of the post is actually relevant - my thoughts are pretty random, and I tend to try thinking outside the box more than I used to. I suppose this would be my own personal "infinity", even if it isn't everyone else's.

The title of the blog itself is pretty relevant, too, despite the fact that my name isn't "McGhee". (I'm patting myself on the back for this one.) "McGhee" is my maiden name; though most of you know me as "Catie Morgan", I find it compelling to consider myself as both - in essence, as McGhee AND me (Morgan). The two are not the same. I'm almost sure that many of my posts will be about my "journey" through life (um, duh), and a big change in direction occurred when I got married. Comparing the two "me's" will be interesting...

All in all, not a stellar first post - but hey, I've got lots on my mind, so more will follow.  A warning: I feel I must admit to having an unhealthy obsession with punctuation (but not capitalization). If, at any point, you find my paragraphs (uh, I mean, sentences) so filled with commas, m-dashes, colons, and semi-colons that you can't figure out what the point is... you're not alone.  My thesis committee can attest to that!

In sum - "Everyone is different. No two people are not on fire."  (Thank you, Strongbad.)