Today has been both lovely and a struggle. I woke up in the morning a bit hungover, after deciding to chase my regular sleeping pill with some Seroquel last night. I was desperate for some sleep, and, as that usually does, it backfired. I get that super-sleepy feeling but don’t get more sleep, and I pay hell for it in the morning.
After managing coffee and Tylenol, I managed to get the new DBT diary card that I created printed out with the help of DSB. I had therapy today and we talked about me coming to group and she gave me the revised manual. I haven’t looked at it yet, but I will. We also talked about trying not to be stressed out in the face of extreme stress. Of course the answer is to just live in the moment, but anyone who understands the concept and has also undergone major stress knows that it isn’t an easy task.
I really didn’t want to leave my therapy appointment today. I wanted to either be there, making sense of things, or to be by myself. My dad had driven me to therapy and we went out for Chinese afterward. He is very pleasant to be around, anymore. We have had tough years but it seems like we are working through it. He caught me up on local politics and news and I soaked all that information in. Feeling slightly bad that I’m not registered to vote and therefore won’t be voting on mayor, school board, or city council. Ah well.
A few minutes after I arrived home, QoB came by for a visit. It would have been nice to chat with herr, but DSB and I got into quite an argument when, when my mom had left the room, I told him I was tired of him putting a negative label anytime I expressed an emotion.
A worry is just a worry, not anxiety. Irritability is not an indicator of great distress…I’m tired and stressed out. So on and so forth. It didn’t go well, I didn’t handle it well, and now he’s up in the garage. I don’t know how these things get so out of hand when I am just trying to make one little point.
I was even accused of giving up. How fucking far am I away from that anyhow?