Avoiding Self-Sabotaging Behaviors in the Mindfield of Current Happiness

Things are good, y’all.  I mean, really, really good.  LarBear and I are all moved into a really nice new (to us) home, things are organized, tons of junk and clutter has been purged, it looks good, hell, it even smells good.  There is nothing I don’t absolutely love about this new house.

And other things are good, too.  I started a mini dose of an antidepressant two weeks ago, and have had no manic symptoms.  I am slowly weaning off another medication that my psychiatrist believes is leading to my mysterious weight gain.

Things are going great with LarBear, have actually never been better.  I am in the most stable and healthy romantic relationship of my life.  We are a team and we lean on each other and we care for each other and we just make each others’ lives so incredibly much better than they ever have been.

I haven’t heard word one from my ex-step-father or any of his side of the family, and I am superbly grateful for that, and believe that has also gone a long way in minimizing my anxiety and stress level.  Getting rid of all that toxic negativity, it just did me such good.

So really, the problem is that there ARE no problems.  I went to therapy this week, and the first thing my therapist asked me, was what was I going to do to not sabotage the happiness I am finding?  Because that is what I do, it is what I have always done.  Happiness or contentment or joy have always been so fleeting for me, and it is always me chasing them off my own porch with a broom.

The answer to that question lies in many things.  First of all, how am I going to KNOW that I am sabotaging my happiness?  Well, I can spout out a short little list of things from just today that I have done to sabotage my happiness that range from picking a really silly fight (very short lived) with the LarBear to deciding to experiment with my Klonopin (as in not taking it even though I know that I really, really need it) to not taking a shower and getting dressed this morning (daily hygiene fail) to letting myself get too worked up about other people’s problems.

How do I let myself feel, or how do I reassure myself that it really IS okay to be happy, to feel joy, contentment?  I’m still working on that.  What my head always tell me is the inevitable — that it won’t last, it never has before, and its not going to start now.  My head goes on to remind me that Fall is upon us, meaning Winter soon, and that always spells horrors for my stability.

Does it have to, though?  Is it possible that I could make it through Fall and Winter relatively unscathed?  That I could keep up with my daily tasks and my hygiene and meds and relationship-building and therapy and all of the other daily skills, and maybe slide just fine through to Spring?

Well sure, I suppose it’s possible.  I just have to avoid all of these tiny self-sabotaging behaviors that I engage in, and focus on the more positive, skill building behaviors that I have been concentrating on lately.

Gee, Rosa, is that all you ask from yourself?  You are such a loser.

You see, that voice is there, so loud and strong, criticizing my every move.  It will take massive determination on my part to ignore it, to turn the mind, to practice opposite to emotion.  But I think I can.  I’m pretty sure I can, anyway.  Or at least I’m going to try.

What self-sabotage pitfalls do you find yourself getting tripped up by?  How do you keep yourself on a more positive path?  Do share your secret cures for all that ails…

Image result for respect yourself to walk away from anything that no longer

Too Much

One of the columns I fill in on my DBT diary card deals with avoidance.  It’s ranked on a scale of 1-5, one being low, five being high.  I generally sit around a two.  It could be a ten today for all I know.

Last night did not go as planned.  I got off work and bought a fabulous Papa Murphy’s “take-and-bake” pizza, which is a real treat for us.  I also stopped and bought a gallon of milk for DSB, because he can’t seem to live without it, no matter how little money we have or patience/time/understanding I have.

When I arrived home, I was greeted by chaos.  The trashcan was literally overflowing and there was a large brown paper sack stuffed full sitting on a chair beside it.  And the kitchen was a disaster.  I know for a fact that DSB did nothing but hang out all day yesterday.  How hard is it to take out the trash, especially when it gets to such disgusting heights?

There is such a crushing sense of disappointment when I get home from working or being productive, while DSB has done nothing, and enter a scene of chaos.  It wouldn’t take 20 minutes to clean up the kitchen and not 30 seconds to take out the trash.  It makes me feel like I am the maid, or really, like I am the bitch.  So, I cleaned up the trash and then went to sit because QoB was over.

We had QoB over and she and DSB chatted and carried on over Busch Lite and I sat fairly quietly with my lemonade.  Every time I tried to say something, it seems that I was interrupted.  It got to the point where I stopped trying.  I have no social skills, it is obvious, and I’m not into getting in between two people when they’re getting their drink on.  Good Lord, how I do not miss getting my drink on.  Amen.

After QoB left, it was already pretty late (for us) to start dinner, but DSB wanted me to wait because he had a welding job coming by.  Well, that guy didn’t come and he didn’t come, so I started the pizza at 7:30pm.  Just as we sat down to eat, the guy showed up.

DSB was outside with him for an hour.  An hour.  An hour.  Fucking an hour.  And when he came in, he was pissed.  So we watched a movie in silence and then I went and read in bed for an hour.  Took my meds late.  Took my sleeping pills late.  I don’t know what time I finally fell asleep last night, but it was well after midnight.

When I woke up this morning, DSB was outside.  I went back to bed.  When I woke up again, he was doing something on the Internet.  I just wanted to go back to sleep, so I did.  I wanted to avoid the interaction, avoid looking at my shitty dirty filthy disgusting house, avoid being alive.  I woke up around noon and talked to DSB for a little while, told him I didn’t feel like myself, and went back to bed.

I woke up the last time around 2:30.  DSB was getting ready to meet up with my parents and check on the boat out at the lake.  I didn’t want to go.  I texted QoB and told her I wasn’t coming over at this point, and that if she wanted to go to the lake, she should.

I have been sitting in my dining room, my favorite room in the house, a sunroom really.  I thought the “normal” thing to do would be to turn on the radio to my favorite station and have a little background music.  That was a bad idea.  Too much noise, even with the volume on low.

So I have been sitting here, catching up on all the blogs I follow, and listening to my two pups go in and out the doggie door, a lawnmower in the distance, my neighbors coming and going, the ceiling fan whirring.  And that’s all I can handle.

I don’t know what I’ll do next.  Probably, I will read.  Losing sleep and then sleeping too much throws me off, but I don’t want to be in the world around me.  It’s too vibrant, too rich, too loud.  I can’t handle it right now.  It’s too much.

When Things End

I do not even know how to start this post, I have been doing it so infrequently.  It doesn’t help that my mind is racing and I am doing my oh.so.very.best to ignore, block, avoid.  Ignore, block, avoid, repeat.  And so on and so on.  It just seems like there has been so much going on, and I haven’t been able to handle it all at once.

Two things can be true:  1) You can have an ended relationship and know it is for the best, while at the same time, 2) not be able to get your shit together, your new routine going, your scattered life to come back to one piece again.  That is how I feel, I think.  I feel like I have been broken into a million pieces and I am trying to put them all together again, and it is too painful/hard/irritating/overwhelming, so I just sit around, still functional, but in pieces.

I don’t think it helped that I went through another rough spot this winter right before Dr. Love and I broke up.  I hadn’t exactly recovered when we did break up, and, while sometimes things seem much brighter, there is this lingering and poisonous fog that hover.  And the mind can play tricks on you.  I am up and down, up and down — life is great/life is shit, I can’t deal/I can do anything, I want to quit smoking/I’ll never quit, feels great to be healthy/feels like home to throw self-control out the window.

I have been doing better about taking my Cymbalta, but nowhere near perfect.  I have this huge mental block around it, and try as I do to go through it, over it, under it, around it, I just keep getting stuck.  Sometimes I have this thought:

If I feel good, I might start doing more, and I might meet someone, and then they will break me in two.

Ok, so it’s not sometimes I have this thought, it’s all the time.  I absolutely do not want another relationship and the thought that someday I might feel up to it again terrifies me.  Yet, I sometime seek out these situations where I might meet someone.

I am lonely/I am terrified

QoB keeps on telling me that I’ve spent a lot of time alone in my life, so she knows I can do it again.  I don’t remember many alone times.  I was thinking about it, and I don’t think I have been without a boyfriend for longer than five months since early in high school.  It’s hard and it’s scary and lonely as hell.  The thought of being with someone though, makes me feel sick to my stomach and I whisper t0 myself over and over again that I don’t need love, and I don’t need kindness.  All I need is myself.

And you know, that’s just not true.  It’s a nice thought, that humans can be totally an island unto themselves, never needing, never seeking.  People can practice their lives that way, but true happiness does not shine through.  There is always a special friendship, caring family, someone that brings light into the life of that person.

I have my people and they know who they are.  Sometimes it is hard for me to reach out, but when I do, I feel relief.  And I continue to reach out to God, and sometimes I feel like He hears me and sees me.  Other times, I feel an oppressive weight upon myself and I feel that there is no hope for any change, so depressed that there are no gifts to be happy for, so agitated that all I can do is curl up in bed and hope I can fall asleep so the world will become silent to me.

I saw Goddess of Mindfulness yesterday.  I have goals for the week, although I am not sure I was able to process this therapy session appropriately because my mind was wrapped so tight.  I have not embraced these goals, but I know that I will try, because I said I would, and because I feel like I must constantly try and pry myself open and let new ideas and thoughts in.  But it hurts, so I am not getting too excited about it.

Sometimes I sit out in my backyard and repeat prayers and loving-kindness meditations, mixing them, and whispering them to myself in some attempt to connect with God, to connect with my own soul, to remember people I love who are no longer here, and try to forgive, forgive, accept, accept.  Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t.  I do this sometimes when I am driving from place to place, as well.  One might think that driving a car down the highway, or the boulevard, or wherever, would really limit one’s ability to connect to anything other than the highway, but I know that I have found myself over and over again, wandering out there on that road.

Dashboard Confessional, Vindicated

You’ll have to just click the link.  Apparently YouTube hates my blog and has decided that, because of me, they must ban embedding.  Either that or I have fallen behind the technology.