It has been a few days since I have blogged. Again, a combination of not taking time to fit it into my schedule and having problems sneaking in some computer time with my work-a-holic busy mother. I mean seriously, she has three jobs. Time to quit one, Madre (which I know you wish you could do…I just worry). On the plus side, it means her and DHut’s businesses are going well, but she is so damn stressed out that I wish she would nibble on a Xanax and sip a cocktail.
Another reason for not blogging is that nothing particularly new has been going on. IOP…therapy…more IOP…more therapy…working on DBT skills…trying to survive. I am still staying with my parents, which helps to some extent. It’s a great distraction technique, but IOP and therapy still leave me with third-degree emotional burns and it takes most of the day to recover, if at all. And then it’s back at it again.
I’ve been trying to give myself one task per afternoon that I can get accomplished so that I can feel like I’m actually doing something. For the past couple of days, it has been cooking and doing laundy and helping Mom with the house. Anything but mowing my lawn, right?
I had an up-and-down day yesterday. IOP was awful…couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t listen, couldn’t function, participate. I made three coaching calls yesterday and friggin’ J ended up cancelling our therapy appointment because her allergies were bothering her. I really could have used some therapy yesterday.
I came back to town, sat in the hot tub, took a shower, ran a few errands, talked to Malcom, and then it was off to Mom and DHut’s again. They got in another shipment of plants for the water garden store and I helped get them all potted and put in water. Good self-soothe technique.
Then we came home and I made mini-meatloafs. YUM.
So…
DEPRESSION…CHECK!
ANXIETY…CHECK!
GENERAL CRAPPINESS…CHECK!
Nothing new here.
My thoughts go out to my godmother, The Bird Lady. XO
Okay, so I have had this nagging feeling that there has been something I haven’t been doing…that there is something that’s missing. Pasha wrote a comment that prompted me to realize what it was. I haven’t blogged since Sunday morning, and here it is Tuesday morning. I’ve been thrown out of my routine a little bit by staying at Mom’s house.
I usually blog in the early morning (when she is on the computer doing her wake-up routine) or the early evening (when I am spending time with the fam) or in the late evening (when she is on the computer). But I know, no excuses. Just need to get back into the routine, because it is something that really keeps me sane.
In a lot of ways, choosing (mostly important because it was my choice, not something forced) to stay at Mom and DHut’s house until I can get going again, stop isolating, has been a blessing. My days are more structured and I’m spending less time staring at the wall or sleeping. It’s also a safe way to interact with others, even if I’m not getting out and immersing myself in the hellacious and scary world of people that I don’t know. It’s a baby step, but at the same time, it’s a big step.
The weekend went better than any weekend has in a long time…mostly because I didn’t stay in bed the whole time. Of course, it wasn’t perfect. I felt quite depressed and anxious, but it wasn’t such an intense level, because I had so much to distract myself. Saturday and Sunday afternoons were rough, mostly because I was by myself, but when Mom and DHut are around, I can feel the tightness in my chest ease a bit and the depression not hit me so hard.
I also had feelings of helpfulness, and even a little bit of hopefulness…and some sleep. And just feelings of being loved and accepted and cared for. I’m not going to sit here and lie and say that all of my problems went away, but stopping the isolation and being around my family has helped. Gives me much less time to dwell, and I am staying really busy.
Mom has been going through a stressful time, between her full-time job, doing the books for both of the businesses, and doing a part-time bookkeeper job that she has been doing forever. She has a lot on her plate, and I have really been trying to make myself useful — cooking dinner, keeping the house straightened up, doing laundry, keeping up with the dishes, and just doing things that she doesn’t always have the time or energy to do. Just my way of taking things off her plate to hopefully make her life easier. It makes me feel useful, keeps me busy (good distraction technique) and it makes me feel like I am contributing something…instead of feeling like a mooch that sleeps in the guest room and doesn’t do anything.
And Mom and DHut have been (I know I’m sounding like a broken record here) SO damn supportive. They want me to get better, and if staying over here means that I can stay safe and get some sleep, then they’re all for it. DHut, usually a man of few words, not one to talk about emotions has really put himself out there and said that he just wants me to feel better and that he is happy to have me here. And Mom, too, has made it clear that, not only am I helping myself by staying, but that she really likes having me here, that she enjoys my company, and that I am really making her life easier by helping out.
Those things make me feel better about myself. That and I have people to process my day with, to talk to, to bring me out of my house where I sit alone with my dog, and to just sit and listen to them interact makes me feel better sometimes. Just living in the world, even if it is just a little bubble of a world. It’s a step.
I have been spending my mornings in IOP, then therapy on Saturday and yesterday (and again on Thursday and Saturday), and then trying to structure the three or four hours I have left in the day until Mom gets off work. Some days I have been doing good with that, some days I haven’t.
The biggest problem with structuring my time is that I have a hard time doing things and feeling alive and feeling like I don’t want to just jump off a bridge. There is too much time to think and, after IOP and therapy, I feel like I have really worked hard that day and all I want to do is sit around.
And I think, and have talked with my therapist about possibly being too hard on myself, and how I need to stop making these huge to-do lists, and simply do what I can, and accept that I am not a failure because I didn’t get my grass mowed, or because I chose to sit and talk to Malcom instead of doing laundry, or because I played with my dog instead of all of the million things I COULD be doing around the house.
Both of my therapists really want me to be working hard at self-soothe and sacred-self exercises, and I am trying to do that. It’s hard when you feel like shit and you come home from three hours, sometimes four, of IOP and therapy, and all you really want to do is numb out. So, I try to do something between the time I get home and the time Mom and DHut come home from work to occupy myself. Because really, when I numb out and don’t do anything, I feel guilty afterward.
Monday was pretty rough, as Mondays usually are. I had a billion things on my to-do list. And all this optimism in the morning before I went to IOP that I would get it all done. But IOP was especially rough and going home to an empty house after being with Mom and DHut all weekend was hard. I ended up sleeping and not getting anything done, and had really bad nightmares. So, I woke up feeling like I’d just survived a battle in my sleep…and like a failure because I didn’t do the things I had planned to do (grocery store, mow, pick up dog food).
I then went to Mom and DHut’s and felt a bit better, mostly through distraction techniques — getting dinner ready, doing laundry, cleaning up the kitchen, listening to Mom and DHut talk about their day, and just not getting caught up in the bullshit in my head. The negative tape still runs, but being productive and feeling like I am being helpful and taking some of the stress of Mom’s shoulders decreases that anxiety a bit and gives me a temporary feeling…not a feeling of feeling good, or even somewhat good, but a feeling that is not deep depression and anxiety. They still exist, but, broken record, staying with Mom and DHut and having that structure and feeling like I am being productive do help.
Another person that I have to give a lot of credit to for helping me through really tough spells is Malcom. I can call him and instantly feel relief, a loosening in my chest…just hearing his voice and having him listen. He is amazing and it is reassuring that when I move that I will have him there to help me through. And really, we help each other, which makes it even better.
I also need to give some credit to IOP and therapy, as painful as it may be. Going to IOP and therapy daily is like ripping the scabs off all these wounds, rubbing salt in them, and then going home to try to let them heal until I have to go in the next day and rip them off again. Hell yeah, it’s painful, it’s exruciating sometimes, and sometimes I can’t deal with the aftermath without numbing out. But I’m doing it. And I’m learning skills to deal with it. No pain, no gain, right?
There is something to be said for all of things I am trying to do. Building structure and using self-soothing, distraction, and sacred self techniques give me moments of relief from the overwhelming depression and anxiety that I do feel, and hopefully there will come a time when these things come to me automatically and I don’t have to work so damn hard to make it through the day. Right now, I’m holding on with my fingernails, or, as I’ve heard people say, white-knuckling it…but at least I’m doing that.
Okay, so maybe the word “cures” is a little strong, but being here at Mom and DHut’s is like practicing distraction techniques all day long. It’s not so great when they’re not here. I spent yesterday afternoon by myself and went to Dad’s very briefly and felt pretty shitty until they got home. And then the games began.
Between Mom and DHut, they are keeping me pretty entertained. DHut has a very goofy sense of humor and sometimes he can really get on a rip.
And then there was Mom this morning. I got up around 6:45 and Mom had already been up since around 5:15 and she was, um, raring to go. She was listening to YouTube American Idol crap and singing along. And then she put on Amy Winehouse…and she kept singing “And I said no, no, no” to everything I said.
Mom + caffeine = giddy
We are on our third pot of coffee. Things might be a little whacky today.
So I have now been with Mom and DHut for almost the past 24 hours. Do I feel better? A little. I at least feel safe here, and I had a good night’s sleep because Mom put Quaaludes in my Fresca sleeping here is always easier than sleeping at home. I plan on spending enough time here to get my sleeping back on track and until I feel safe enough to trust myself at home alone.
Mom and DHut have been great and really supportive. Sometimes I have a hard time interacting, but even just listening to them talk about day-to-day stuff and not really jumping in the conversation seems to help. Just like Pasha says…just be around people, even if you don’t have to interact. Wise advice.
The dogs are all having a great time. Not only does Mom have two dogs, Lucy and Gracie (both poodles, Lucy being a standard and Gracie being a miniature), but she is dogsitting Bella (a wheaten terrier) for my sister and her boyfriend (who are off living it up in Germany). They can all get pretty wild and crazy together and it really gives me a sense of satisfaction to see Kizzie so happy and getting the play-time that she really needs that I haven’t been able to give her much of lately.
Another bonus to staying at Mom’s — the food. I baked her a New York cheesecake from scratch yesterday for Mother’s Day, my gift to her since I am pretty much unable to go anywhere and money is tight since I am not working…and because it is her all-time favorite dessert. We had Papa Murphy’s pizza for dinner last night (YUMMM!!) and I’m getting ready to whip up some French toast, sausage, and eggs. Then for dinner to night, we are grilling steaks and I am making twice-baked potatoes and wilted lettuce. All of Mom’s favorites, and I’d have to say that a lot of it ranks among my favorites, as well.
Being here just makes me feel more human, or something. It distracts me from all the crap in my head, because Mom and DHut are very talkative, on-the-go, task-oriented people. As long as they are here, I am entertained and it’s like watching a funny TV show. When they go, I revert back to feeling like crap, but they are here for the most part (at least over the weekend) and it really helps.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there. Especially to mine…best Mom anyone could ask for. MTLI, Madre. Your favorite song of the moment…
Amy Winehouse, Rehab.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY also to my sister, Ab. Drink a few for me tonight, sissy.
Same old shit with a little twist on Friday. Depressed, anxious, self-loathing blah blah blah blah. I did a lot of numbing on Friday. Went to IOP, had a hard time listening and learning, which is, of course, what I am there for. I just couldn’t tune in, the tape in my head was playing so loud and I was trying to numb numb numb. I didn’t really participate. And then I went straight home and went to bed. If it counts at all, I did go to Mom and DHut’s in the evening and kinda sorta interacted.
Of course, I filled out my diary card, what with all it’s 4’s and 5’s (high intensity ratings) on things like numbing, anxiety, sadness, guilt, rumination, shame, irritability, anger…and I believe joy and willingness (to interact) scored around 1 (low intensity ratings). It’s like I put down the same thing almost every day, hence the blog Nothing Changes a day or so ago.
Earlier in the week and the previous weekend, I was really cycling and, rather than getting stuck in a manic state, I ended up in a hellacious mixed one. While mania has it’s benefits, it definitely has it’s downfalls. Like spending too much money, having high anxiety, making poor choices, and the bitch of it is that the voices don’t stop…they get louder, faster, and more irritating…and you still feel like you want totake a shower with a toaster crap.
I am not exercising per say, but am becoming a bit more active. It is unbelievable how many people have told me to exercise within the past few months…and have said it repeatedly, like perhaps I didn’t hear the first or sixth time…DAD. I just want to scream I KNOW! and then punch the person that said it in the face. And it’s really no offense to any one person. Most people are trying to be helpful and don’t know that I’ve heard it a million times or who think that they’re telling me something I don’t know.
But I know it doesn’t help to sleep around the clock, to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, to sit or lie on the couch and stare at the wall or out the window, that it makes matters worse, that I need to get off of my ass and walk around the block, do the dishes, watch a movie, read a book, be around people, bathe, play with my dog, do my laundry, sweep the floors and vacuum the rugs, and all of the other things one SHOULD do.
I am saying this mostly for my own benefit, because I am truly my hardest critic…I’m doing what I can, and although it appears to be the bare minimum, I need to remind myself that I’m not sleeping 24/7.
To my credit, I do go to IOP and interact with people for three hours a day, five days a week. I also go to three 1-hour individual sessions a week. I do go to Mom and DHut’s house almost daily, and the days that I’m not there, I go to Dad’s. I’ve also tried to do small things during the day to stay awake…coloring, for one. Sometimes I go to the grocery store with Mom. I went to Walgreens by myself today. I talk on the phone to Malcom, to Curly Snap, Mom, Dad, DHut. I sit out on my back porch a lot. Have been playing a lot of fetch with Kizz.
But most of the time I feel so depressed that I can barely get out of bed, can barely stay out of bed, can’t motivate myself to brush my teeth, do my hair, take a shower…the bare minimum. In my mind, I know all of the previously mentioned things help, but getting around to doing them seems impossible some days.
Things have been reaching a breaking point, so I am staying over at Mom and DHut’s all weekend…spending the night and the whole bit. Even though Mom isn’t here at the moment, I still feel a little better just BEING here. Playing on the computer, looking around at their gardens and pond (which have all won numerous awards), watching Kizzie play with my mom’s standard poodle, Lucy, talking to Malcom. Those are the little things that are keeping me going today. Whatever works.
Yesterday was rough. I know, I know. Broken record. I felt really overly-energized, hyped-up, anxious, etc in the morning.
Group was pretty ick, mostly because I didn’t sleep well the night before. I kind of stumbled through the 9:00 a.m. group, then we shared diary cards. That was fine. Then, the therapy leader (the one I don’t really like) made us watch this movie about mindfulness.
And I fell asleep for the first hour of it, which is fairly unlike me, because I’m usually pretty alert for group. I woke up several times during that hour, having auditory hallucinations coming from the TV, which of course increased my anxiety.
We then had break and I chatted with a girl in there who is also having a rough time and we talked about some of the annoying people who are in group right now. People who act like group is fun, a social hour. Who make inappropriate comments. Who never act depressed, manic, or anxious. I know it isn’t fair to judge others, because they may be feeling differently inside and just be in denial, but it is annoying when they act like everything is great and they just come to group to socialize and make friends.
Bugs the shit out of me, since this is an Intensive Outpatient Program, designed for people in crisis. They don’t appear to be in crisis to me, and that’s what pisses us off. I know, shouldn’t judge.
At any rate, after break we went back in and I was determined to stay more alert for the second part of the movie. But I continued with these damn auditory hallucinations and it was really tripping me out. I asked to be excused from group early and went outside to the meditation garden, waiting on my therapy appointment at 12:00 p.m with J.
I talked to Malcom for awhile, and he helped to make me feel better, just like he always does. I don’t know what I would do without him and he is a very VERY patient man. XOXO, honey.
I then went to therapy and we talked about my issues with suicidal ideation and severe depression, which are my therapist’s biggest concerns. I don’t want to get into it too much, but my ratings on my diary card really need to go down for that category. We also talked about my eating and I told her that I had been doing really well with it since our last appointment, which she was happy with.
Some other things we talked about were self-soothing exercises and negative self-talk. We touched briefly on the rapid-cycling and mania. I told her about the hallucinations and also reported that this happens sometimes when I am really manic and haven’t had enough sleep. We worked on skills so that I don’t try to numb out all the time, but experiencing my feelings and just “sitting with them” as she puts it. It is hard, but it actually made me feel a little bit better. I could go into great detail about how you do that and self-soothe yourself, but it would make this a really long blog, so if you have questions email me at RosieSmrtiePants@cox.net.
I had planned out all kinds of distress tolerance activities for the afternoon…going out to eat, going to buy Mom’s Mother’s Day present, and possibly going to the library. J and I decided that yesterday was not a good day to do that. So I went straight home.
It was nice outside so I spent most of the afternoon sitting out on the deck, looking at my plants and yard, smoking cigarettes, and talking on the phone. I colored some, read a little bit of a magazine, and organized my fridge and freezer. I cut up a watermelon that was just oh-so-perfectly-ripe. And some kiwi fruit. And ate a piece of pita bread with hummus and kiwi and watermelon for lunch. Very tasty.
I felt semi-okay during this period, because I was just taking care of myself and my problems, but then I spent an hour and a half on the phone talking to a friend and they were crying and really upset and it really brought me down. I am having a really hard time dealing with my own issues, so it is hard for me to be a good friend right now. I need to lean on them, not vice versa. That sounds selfish, but I just can’t tolerate anymore distress than is already in my life right now.
After I got off the phone, I was right back to feeling miserable, as if my relaxing afternoon never happened. I talked to Mom for awhile, who suggested I stay away from this friend for a little while, because I have spent almost four hours within the last two days talking to her and it isn’t helpful, for the most part. We then made plans for me to come over tonight. I called Mom a little bit ago and am going to cook dinner for her and DHut tonight. I just want to do something nice for them because they are always so helpful to me.
My plan for the day is to go to IOP and then come home and do the same thing I did yesterday — sit outside with my music, my drinks, my cigarettes, my phone, and my coloring books and magazines. Hopefully I can get back to feeling relaxed again. I am making no big goals for the day other than to take a shower and stay awake.
Because right now, I am tense, I am anxious, I feel crappy and depressed, and very ick. Just so blah. So apathetic. Not caring about anything. Not wanting to exist. And those DAMN THOUGHTS racing through my mind. Same shit, just a different day.
James Blunt Cry — (I couldn’t find an actual video for this, so this is more for the music, not the video)
Head spinning, chest tightening, walls closing in, and all those DAMN THOUGHTS racing through my mind. 24/7. My upswing has turned into a mixed episode. Not only am I totally revved (and irritable), I also feel like drinking bleach crap. How lovely is that?
Yesterday afternoon went just fine, other than being manicky-out-of-my-mind hyped-up. I visited Dad and ate some really yummy Indian food, that I can’t remember what is called, but is basically spinach and chickpeas in a spicy sauce over rice. Very yum. We had a nice chat and
I even brought Kizzie with me, which shows Dad’s increasing tolerance toward animals. He even let her get up in his lap, but, sadly enough, wouldn’t let Kizzie kiss him. I’m pretty sure she got over it, though, because she kept coming up to get petted. AND HE ACTUALLY PETTED HER. We’re talking big progress, man.
Kizzie and I then went to visit Grandma, which went well. It was easier visiting with the dog around, for some reason. Grandma loves that dog, which is also strange because she has always claimed to not like dogs. It’s pretty funny…she acts all scared when Kizz hops on her lap and licks her, but she really loves that dog and I think she secretly wishes that Kizzie would come visit her more often.
After all my afternoon visiting, I came home and puttered around for an hour while Kizzie slept (hey, visiting is hard work and we were at it for over four hours). I then went to Mom’s to pick up some checks, put gas in my car, and chat for a bit. It was pretty wild and crazy over there, what with DHut being DHut, Mom being Mom, and me being manic. We were quite a trio.
I called Curly Snap on my way home, because I have kind of been avoiding her, and we talked for almost two and a half hours. The only reason we got off the phone is because mine went dead. She’s a good friend, good listener, and is funny as hell. I even helped her out a little bit and gave some good unsolicited advice, which I learned how to do at the foot of the master(s), Mom, Grandma, DHut, Dad…um, yeah, pretty much everyone…I think it runs in the family.
I then briefly talked to Malcom after I got home from work. He is working some different hours now until his back is better and when he goes back regular, he will be promoted to a position where he can be a computer geek and play with numbers all day. He’s pretty thrilled about it. My nerd, I love you dear.
I actually slept some last night. Not a lot, but enough to keep me going. Which is good, because I have big plans for the day…which I know possibly won’t get done. The plan is to go to IOP, then therapy (those two I know I will do), then go to _______________ for Mom’s Mother’s Day present, and then come home and do who knows what. We’ll see what the day brings. Maybe a trip to the library (sorry Mom, li-berry).
A rocking “I’m crazy” song for the day…Pink…Just Like a Pill:
This might be annoying, but I am going to start time-stamping my posts. The system that wordpress uses just doesn’t work for me because it isn’t on Central Time and sometimes I can’t figure out when I posted last. So…
Wednesday, May 7, 2008 12:17 p.m.
I had a very up-and-down yesterday. I was really down in the morning and then very frustrated when I tried to leave because the cairn terrier that owns me that I own has started to run out into the garage when I am trying to leave and hides under the car and won’t come out because she doesn’t want me to leave. After about 15 minutes, I finally brought out her leash and took her for a short walk. I know, I know…rewarding bad behavior. But I had to get my ass to group and I ended up being an hour late anyway.
Another sign that I have not been paying my dog enough attention…she ate a hole in part of my wood privacy fence…to get out to see me. Yeah, time to work through a little bit of that depression, not caring about anything and play some fetch every once in awhile (which I have been doing all morning…Kizz doesn’t know what to do with all the attention she is all of a sudden getting).
So, I went to group an hour late yesterday. I didn’t mind missing the first hour, because it’s not really skill-building, just meditation and mindfulness. I made it for the second two groups — diary cards and skill-building. We are working on how to be kind to ourselves (there’s an exact DBT phrase for it, but I can’t remember it off the top of my head). At any rate, these are skills that I really need since I…um…hate myself and have all these voices in my head that yell at me and tell me what a piece of shit I am and have this negative tape running in my head all the time.
And I don’t do self-care, self-soothing very often. I have been working on it though. I have showered three times since Friday (I know that doesn’t seem like a lot, but it’s progress) and have been listening to music and coloring and just trying to be better to myself. I still am not able to quiet the negative self-talk, but am working on some strategies. Pasha had suggested a “done” list instead of a “to-do” list, which I have started doing and which was actually brought up in group yesterday. Note to self…listen to Pasha more often.
After group yesterday, I had some time to kill before my therapy appointment at 2:00 p.m. Pasha had also suggested that, while it is not necessarily important to really interact with people a whole lot, that it is important not to isolate and to just get yourself out there.
So, armed with Klonopin and my coloring book and colored pencils, I went to a bakery/cafe close to my therapists office and sat on the outdoor deck, smoking, drinking coffee, and coloring. I wanted to get up and leave every second that I was there, but I stayed for almost an hour and thirty minutes…a largely anxious, I can’t breathe, but I’m going to do this even if it kills me hour and thirty minutes. So, I did it, I survived. I then went to my car and had a bit of a panic attack and took some Klonopin. The coloring definitely helped me get through it.
My advice…GO BUY SOME COLORED PENCILS and a Whinny-the-Pooh coloring book. Works wonders.
After that I went to therapy, which went okay. We talked about the severe depression and anxiety I have been having, about using self-soothe and distract skills, about distress tolerance. I told her about the cafe experience and she gave me a gold star.
My goal yesterday was to not take a nap, which I managed not to do. When I got home, I talked to Malcom for a little bit, picked up the house, and colored. Then I went to Mom’s and we planted my pots up (because I have been utterly unable to bring myself to do it) and I watched her pot some stuff for the water-garden store. My plan was to be home by 8:00 p.m., but I didn’t get around to leaving until about 9:15. When Mom and I get together, time flies. Sometimes we have so much to talk about.
I slept like total crap last night…likely due to high anxiety and staying out late. I slept from 11:00 p.m. - 12:00 a.m. Then I was up, on high alert until about 8:00 a.m., and slept until 9:00 a.m. I called into group, because I was feeling really out of it since I hadn’t slept and wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to drive the 30 minutes to group and back on fumes.
I still wasn’t able to sleep after I woke up at 9:00 a.m. and called in. So, I puttered around, filled my med box, called in a refill, called the doctor to ask to call in a refill, swept off my back porch and removed the Christmas garland (I KNOW…SERIOUSLY), and made my bed and fed the dog. Other than that, I sat out on the back porch, drinking coffee and Diet Pepsi and smoking, playing fetch with my dog, and talking to Malcom.
I’ve managed to return a few emails and am getting ready to head to Dad’s for some quality time and also to keep me from sleeping…you know, building structure. I’m on an upswing again, edging into that pink (you know, before you get to red, duh) zone of mania and am just waiting for the crash. It really sucks when you can’t trust how you feel. Just another joy of rapid-cycling bipolar.
Queen Fat Bottomed Girls — SexyFat says turn it up and shake that big sexy butt, girls!
DISCLAIMER — this is a really an extremely long post…covers Friday to today. This is why I should try and post over the weekend instead of doing a marathon blog on Mondays.
I think my last post was on Saturday morning (or possibly Friday night, or maybe even Saturday night), but I am having a hard time keeping track of my days so I could be wrong. To clarify, it is now Monday evening. Today has been very difficult, and perhaps may not have been so, if I had not had a glimmer of a good day over the weekend and told myself that I was “cured.”
Friday was fairly crappy. Nothing really new crappy — just depressed, anxious. Saturday started out rough, as one can read in Treading Water. I was up early writing that post (or maybe wrote it late the night before) and ended up going back to bed on Saturday morning and laying there until around noon.
I then dragged myself to Mom’s, because I had told her I would help with some bookkeeping and it would give me structure. I felt better spending time with her, knowing I was being helpful, useful even. We walked around her yard (she has a beautiful yard…a true green thumb) and it made me feel somewhat motivated to get my own yard together. I made that my goal for the next day.
Since I had been at Mom’s, I didn’t take an afternoon nap, which probably helped fight back some depression. I woke up yesterday feeling overly energized, with a huge list of “to-do’s” in my head, and this feeling that I would get it all accomplished. I started early and went to the Res to buy cigarettes. I then went back to Mom’s and worked with her again on bookkeeping for about three hours.
We then went to the grocery store, which was nice, because I am tired of having someone else do it but cannot yet really bring myself to do it alone. I actually bought a few things that I wouldn’t normally buy…kind of pampering myself (Sacred Self) like we are taught to do in group…kiwis, hummus, pita bread. I’ve been struggling with personal hygiene and bought a new kind of body wash that has little beads in it that I hoped would motivate me to shower more often. Then we went to the hardware store and I bought some plants to put in pots for my back porch and Mom made sure we picked up ones that would survive once I move to AZ.
I then went home, bound and determined to get some of my own yardwork done. In my head, I was saying…mow, weedwhip, plant. The only thing I managed to get done was mowing, but I mowed the WHOLE yard and the physical exertion didn’t kill me, which I had been worried about. I then sat on my porch and admired my yard and drank a beer (a very VERY rare occasion for me) and talked to Malcom. And Mom. And Dad. And Grandma. Anyone I could think of to call. Then I ate dinner and watched the season finale of “Dexter” on TV. I went to bed feeling satisfied.
And woke up feeling that way, too. I was up by 5:00 a.m. and spent some time drinking coffee, smoking, and waking up on my back porch. Just as I was about to go inside and get on the Internet, Malcom called and we ended up talking until 8:15 a.m. A really good chat. I almost felt GOOD when I got in my car to leave for group. A better word may be hypomanic.
That which comes up, must go down.
Without thinking, I called work, intending to change the message on my voicemail. I don’t know how to do it without listening to my messages first, and there were several. Clients not knowing where I am, when I am coming back, the front desk calling and saying my 9:00 appointment was there. I felt very confused. I changed my voicemail to say that I am on medical leave and that my supervisor should be contacted during my absence. Which I thought they all would have known.
I then called D, our secretary. I asked her if she knew that I was on medical leave. She said that she didn’t, but she knew I wouldn’t be in this week. She said that my supervisor had just been sending out emails at the beginning of each week, saying that I would not be in that week. And it appears that, along with not telling anyone at work anything about where I am (in a non-specific way), she has also not been contacting my clients and informing them that I may be gone for awhile. I asked D to put me up on the board as out on medical leave and told her that any calls or clients that come to the desk need to be directed to Kristin.
When I hung up, my chest was tight and I could barely breathe. My thoughts were racing, my head was exploding, and I barely made it into the group building’s parking lot. I felt like I was going to throw up, and might have if I had consumed anything other than coffee so far that morning. I sat in the parking lot and smoked for a few minutes, although I knew it would make me late. I just had to calm down a little bit before I could even think about moving.
After smoking and pondering driving right back home without going in, I decided that I had driven all the way here and I needed to just do it. Who knows, it might even make me feel better.
Fortunately for me, there was a change in the schedule and one of my favorite therapists came in and did my favorite stretching/meditating/mindfulness exercises. This loosened up my body some, but I was back to feeling pre-exercise not five minutes later.
We did goal sheets for the week, and I realized that I accomplished very little that I had set out to do last week, but still put a whole bunch of things down to accomplish for this week. I don’t know why I set myself up like that. My goals for the day were to plant, weedwhip, make to-do lists, take a shower, paint my toenails, listen to music, and see my Grandma tonight. I can tell you right now that not a single bit of that got done, even though this morning I kinda thought I could.
During the second group, we had extra time since there weren’t very many people and I asked if we could talk about self-hatred and negative self-talk and shame and just feeling bad about yourself all the time and always playing that negative tape in your head.
We did. I expressed a lot of anxiety, depression, shame, guilt about not working right now, which leads me down the path of “you’re such a fuckup…a failure…never good at anything…worthless…can’t do anything for yourself”…I could go on and on.
We talked about it for awhile in group, and talked about being very mindful of these feelings and releasing them. There was a girl there who talked about how she had to quit her job and felt the same way and she shared some things that made me feel a little less alone.
But my anxiety tripled, my head was being bombarded with all of my little inner voices yelling at me, my chest was tight, I couldn’t breathe, and I just wanted to sit there and die. Literally die. Not exist. Wanting and doing…two different things.
I managed to make it the rest of the way through the third group and talked to my counselor there, J, very briefly. I basically walked in her door and blurted out that I didn’t want to go back to work full-time, that I wasn’t really working full-time anyway, that how-in-the-world am I going to go back to work when I can’t even function. She was minimally helpful, just saying that it should be the least of my worries right now. Thank you, J, for invalidating my fucking feelings.
I got out to my car and called Mom. Felt a little better. Talked to Dad, who was really supportive and kind and said some things that I just need to hear, even if I don’t believe them, like “It’s tougher to work on it than ignore it” or “You’re being very brave and its fucking hard” or “We’re proud of you” and telling me that neither he nor Karen thought any less of me for not working, but were proud that I was doing something to help myself.
I went to his house from Lawrence and ate lunch, even though he had to leave to go see a client. But I did get to see him and hug him and he told me he loved me and was proud of me and that what I am doing is “fucking rough.” You’re doing just what you need to do to help me, Dad.
I then went home and changed around my laundry and put on some more comfortable clothes. My desire to plant and weedwhip and make to-do lists was non-existence. I tried to force myself to do it. Couldn’t. Tried to force myself to do anything. Couldn’t. Couldn’t stop thinking, ruminating, beating myself up, feeling anxious, feeling like I just didn’t want to feel anymore.
So I went to bed. I literally couldn’t do anything else. Couldn’t. And I had really REALLY awful nightmares that I couldn’t make myself wake up from. I suppose that’s karma or some other force biting me in the ass for not being productive. So I woke up even more depressed, more anxious, panic-stricken, unsettled, scared.
I called Mom. Told her I wasn’t coming over and got the number to cancel with Grandma. Asked her to call me when she got home.
Talked with Malcom briefly. He was at the bus depot and he couldn’t hear me and I couldn’t hear him.
Left with no one else to call, all alone with my own thoughts, feeling like shit, like I wanted to just disappear or blow away like dust or even to just not FEEL, not THINK, not HEAR that g’damn voice in my head yelling at me, telling me what a g’damn failure I am. I had to do something to make myself feel better or I was going to totally lose it.
So I colored. That’s right. Broke out my new set of colored pencils, my Winnie the Pooh coloring book…and colored…for 45 minutes straight. Nothing else but coloring, sitting on my back porch, watching and listening to my dog and the sounds of the neighborhood. And felt better to the point where I could breathe again.
Mom called after work and we chatted for a little bit. Told her about the work BS (which got me all worked up again) and she sang me that “sun will come up tomorrow” song from “Annie.”
I got off the phone with her and colored some more. And then went and picked some lilacs and put them in my house.
I still feel on edge, shitty, depressed, like I want to not feel a damn thing. But at least I did a couple of things to make myself feel better.
That counts for something, right?
Already loved this song. Just found homemade video (from this YouTuber) that makes it even better. Tom Petty Angel Dream. Enjoy.
The past few days since I have blogged have ticked by slowly in a nearly unbearable state of depression. I did go to group all week, which is something. I was there, but I wasn’t there. My every move was an effort, and I spent more time in bed than not.
It’s not that I don’t have anything to do. My yard needs work, there is laundry to be done, posts and emails to write, personal hygiene that needs to be taken care of, and just everyday life to live. I have been doing the bare minimum. I just can’t shake this overwhelming feeling of gloom and self-hatred and apathy.
I am making myself post today because it usually makes me feel a little better and so those who read my blog and don’t talk to me often know that I am still alive. I’m hanging on, hanging in. I’m doing what I’m “supposed to do,” in a way. Going to group, going to therapy. I suppose I could take everybody’s advice and exercise or find a hobby or do something positive for myself. But when I am this depressed, there is no doing any of that. It’s hard enough to keep up with the status quo.
It’s like I am treading water and am finding it hard to keep my head above the water. Just long enough to get a life-saving breath before I go under again.
Small things help in the moment, but the big picture is bleak. I am working on building structure…going to visit Mom and DHut, Dad, etc. I feel better for a little while afterwards, but I leave drained and that drained feeling turns into even more depression, and I’m back in bed again.
I have a bachelor’s degree in psychology, have worked since 2003 in the mental health field, and have had plenty of therapy. I KNOW what would supposedly help. There is a big difference between knowing and doing. Kind of like doctors that smoke or eat a cheeseburger daily, for example.
The feelings of self-hatred, that self-deprecating voice in my head…they just won’t go away. I know my family loves and supports me and they tell me so, but in my head I feel like I have failed them, even if this feeling doesn’t coincide with reality. And mostly I feel like I have failed myself. That I am not living the life I was supposed to live, that I had the potential to live. Everything I have done is life is overshadowed by this huge cloud of self-doubt, hopelessness, self-hatred, pain, shame, and depression. I can’t see around it.
I actually have a funny story to tell. I know, I know…this blog has been gloom and doom and whining lately, but sometimes funny things happen even though you want to drive your car into an embankment feel depressed.
I had very little sleep both Sunday and Monday night, so needless to say I was very tired yesterday. So, I went to IOP yesterday and tried to stay awake, tried to stay awake on my way home, and then had a dentist’s appointment.
I actually fell asleep in the chair, and, get this, slept through the dentist drilling and filling two cavities. When they raised my chair into the sitting position, I woke up.
Dentist: Did you know that you talk in your sleep?
Me: I’ve been told that.
Dentist: We won’t tell you what you said.
Oh dear Lord…apparently I made such a damn fool out of myself that they won’t even tell me what I said. Hopefully I wasn’t having a hot sex scene in the shower dream or one of my more violent, shoot-em up kind of dreams. Let’s just hope I was saying something like, “Oh, look at the pretty birdies.” Or something.
At any rate, I made it home and took a three and a half hour nap and woke up feeling totally rested. And then slept like shit again last night. Nothing like a little rapid-cycling and disturbed circadian cycle to add joy to my life.
I don’t remember much about yesterday, since I basically sleep-walked through the day. I vaguely remember that there is a new annoying girl in group that rambles a lot and that we were plotting her demise bitching about her on smoke breaks. And I remember that I took a nap and fell asleep at the dentist’s. The rest is pretty much a blur.
I am feeling slightly more awake today, probably due to the two pots of coffee I have drank so far this morning. I’ve made plans to go to Dad’s tonight and have dinner. He is also going to grill me up some chicken that I bought, so that I can have it for the rest of the week. What can I say? He’s a good grill-guy.
I am trying to be optimistic about the day, and have been able to do that through self-soothe techniques (listening to music) I have been using this morning, and a nice healthy dose of Klonopin. That and I always feel more optimistic when I have had a lot of caffeine. Don’t know what I’d do without it.
DHut: Does pizza have parsley on it?
Me: That’s oregano, most likely.
DHut: Oh. I just sprinkled parsley all over my pizza on accident.
Me: Won’t hurt you. Doesn’t taste like anything.
DHut: Makes it so colorful.
I could go on and on about funny stories involving DHut. Like how some teenaged kid called the other night during the fish fry to ask about breeding rabbits and DHut gave him all kinds of pointers, in a very matter-of-fact, here’s exactly what you do type-of-way. It was fairly hilarious, but I don’t remember enough of the exact conversation to quote him, other than he kept saying…
DHut: Try xyz and just let him do his thing.
Heheheh.
This song isn’t particularly relevant to this blog, but I like it DAMMIT, and this is my blog, and, I mean, really, everyone can use a little Tom Petty to kick off the day.
