All Tabs Open: A Blah-Blah-Blog by Bridget LeRoy

Who am I? Good question. I hate labels. As soon as someone has pegged me as the editor, the radio host, the innkeeper, even the chicken lady…Oops! Where’d she go? I’M ALREADY SOMEONE ELSE. Suck it, label mongrels!

“You should write a novel,” They say. 

I don’t think They understand that for a newspaper writer — journalist smacks of an expensive degree that I don’t have — a novel is the farthest thing from my mind.

A novel requires character development, a plot line, several cathartic moments, an ending. And lots of work. It would be like training a Chihuahua to herd sheep. I’m sure it’s happened, and the video would totally go viral, but it’s not the norm. Anyway, I would rather herd sheep than write a novel. For real.

So why do They want me to write anything? Well, I have had the most incredible life already.

In no particular order, I’ve been presented to Queen Elizabeth II, I’ve danced with Gene Kelly and Michael Jackson, had late night drinks with Richard Burton, conversed with famous authors, actors, and heads of state, had sex on Disney’s Splash Mountain, started a newspaper, milked a pug, owned an inn, worked as a model for some of the world’s most outstanding artists, had an NPR show, attended the Academy Awards when my grandfather won an Oscar, tended a farm with goats and rabbits and chickens and turkeys, have three kids, am a practicing Buddhist, have gone bankrupt, was homeless, have been married to the same amazing man for almost 30 years, had weight loss surgery and other medical manipulations, been recognized with over 50 awards for writing and editing, and I’m a certified yoga teacher, nutritional health counselor, shamanic energy worker, with other crunchy granola designations.

I also have a dark side. I’ve been addicted to booze and drugs, I have suffered from deep depression and overwhelming anxiety punctuated by moments of self-loathing and escape-seeking.

I have social anxiety disorder, which is just a fancy word for hating people.

Right now I am writing about my withdrawal from the anti-anxiety medication that I’ve been taking for 24 years. And since I’m also in recovery, I feel the need to say that I have only taken this medication as prescribed, or less. And yet benzodiazepine withdrawal is so, so hard. If you are going through this too, or know someone who is, I hope I can help. That’s why I started to write about it, to help myself and others.

If you feel like you are crazy, you aren’t. If you feel like it’s time to pay attention to what your body is telling you, I relate. If you feel like all your tabs are open in your brain, all the time – welcome to my world. Pull up a cozy chair and a cup of something warm, grab your favorite blanket, and let’s keep each other company.