It feels like FOREVER since I last posted, when in fact, it's only been 7 days. Hahaha.
I had TT today and it wasn't too bad. This is going to be a rough week (I will tell you why) so instead of continuing on the trauma train, we focused on my anxiety about this week and how to manage through it.
Tuesday and Thursday are my classes - which no one has guessed what they are - but this week, we'll be learning about the different types of trauma. And I'm DREADING it. (And again, no these classes are not metal health related though they really seem to go hand in hand with my TT right now.) I believe this week, we'll be starting on some of the heavier forms of trauma (not that there is any "good trauma") such as sexual, emotional and physical traumas. Some of the traumas have impacted me personally so I'm a bit unsure how I'll sit through 6 hours of class.
Thursday is Cindy's birthday. Emotional week, all over the place.
Today, Carrie and I focused on how to make a plan for the hard stuff. As I've mentioned in previous posts, I have anxiety and depression. Anxiety is high this week and it's only Monday.
So, I'll plan for the hard stuff. I know that Tuesday/Thursday class could bring me anxiety. What are things I can do to help me through the anxiety? I can do the 4/7/8 breathing, or square breathing, or try to distract myself from my anxiety with visualization. (All of these sound super hokey and lame to me.) (I'd much rather count in my head) (But I will try)
Another way to combat grief and/or anxiety about grief is to try to make it a positive. Celebrate instead of being sad. She suggested I do some of Cindy's favorite things such as; eating her favorite food or listening to her favorite music. I'll give it a shot. I usually just go to the cemetery and give her flowers and yell at her for being dead.
Then, there's the crying. I HATE HATE HATE HATE to cry. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable. I'd rather cut my tear ducts from my face then cry in front of another human being. Unfortunately, I have cried all too much in front of others (which is horrifying all by itself) so I'm even harder on myself now, when I cry in public settings. I don't do well with sympathy or those "There, there" comments. Yes, I've heard the whole "It's healthy to cry." "Crying can be healing." "Crying helps get your emotions out." Get the...out of here. Crying just makes my face red, my eyes hella swollen and my nose run. I'm NOT a pretty crier. And I don't do these dainty cries either. Full blown, ugly face cry. Every.time.
Carrie pointed out that while I see these things in myself when I cry (the weakness, the vulnerability), I would never say these things to another person who was crying. As a matter of fact, I'm a fixer. I want to fix whatever is making you cry. I want to cheer you up, make you laugh and punch whatever it is in the face that made you cry. Sooooo, the million dollar question is why am I not this gentle with myself? This goes back to how I talk to myself. How I treat myself is not any indication of how I'd treat others. Why do it to myself then? Great question. One that I don't have the answer to right now.
Carrie also asked if we were an emotional family, growing up. Uhhhh, I don't know dude. (Which was my exact answer.) I mean, I don't ever remember being told that I couldn't cry or have emotions. No one ever told me crying was weak or that I looked bad. I just remember that we always had to put our best face forward and keep it moving. My childhood (while not all bad) was full of some traumatic crap and you just...you guessed it, buried and survived. We didn't cry. We didn't complain. Not much anyway. We just buried and survived. We're still not big criers. I didn't shed a tear at Cindy's funeral. Or my dads small service we had. I cried leading up to it. Some in public, mostly in private. I had to be presentable. I had to be there for Cindy's kids, I had to be strong for my brother. I had to go back to work. I had to continue to survive. You can't do that if you're crying all the time. I did find though, that I cried about other things. MINOR things. I guess because I didn't heal or whatever.
Crying is bullshit.
So, my goals for this week are:
-give myself permission to feel things even if that means maybe crying
-see things for how they are (maybe this will help with less anxiety, instead of building things up)
-work on my self talk, think of how I'd talk to others and try talking to myself that way
-continue to work on mindfulness
-allow myself to make a plan for "hard" days and/or weeks
-ask for help
I'm super anxious about this week. About Cindy's birthday. I did take a half day off work on Thursday so I can go to the cemetery and do my yearly ritual. Flowers, some tears, yelling and leaving. Then, I'll likely come home and emotionally try to prepare for class.
Maybe I'll try celebrating her life. Though, I have to be honest, that feels.....wrong. But, I'll give it a shot. Try new things, right? Working on myself, right?
Blech.
Monday, April 29, 2019
Monday, April 22, 2019
Holidays
Holidays are generally rough for me. Especially since I no longer have family here in Ohio. This isn't my first holiday alone (even with family living here) but they don't get an easier. I never thought I'd be one of those people who spends holidays alone. Of course, let's be honest, I never thought my life would end up where it is now.
I decided that instead of feeling sorry for myself yesterday, I would make it self care Sunday! I slept in (which was glorious) and then decided to clean my house. Cleaning doesn't seem like much of self care but it makes me feel better when my space is (somewhat) clean.
I reorganized underneath my kitchen cabinets and my bathroom cabinet. I cleaned out my refrigerator and a lot of my bathroom stuff that I'm no longer using. (Old face masks, old make up, etc.) I ended up with 3 bags of trash. Then I dusted and ran the vacuum. I cleaned the litter boxes and the bathroom. Then I showered, did my hair and made myself a nice meal.
Well, a sort of nice meal. Hahaha. I orignally planned to make filet migon, corn, salad and bread. Soooooo I burnt the filet and the corn wasn't that great so I ended up pitching most of the filet and corn. The salad and bread were very good though. And I had a little Reese Egg for dessert. I watched We Bought a Zoo. Then I cleaned up everything (dishes and I ended up scrubbing my stove and wall) and then I read until bed time. I even skipped Game of Thrones.
I don't feel the greatest. I have a runny nose, body aches and a cough. I'm sure it's just allergies and my damn fibro (weather changes KILL me!)
I'm not feeling very inspired to write right now but wanted to update about my self care Sunday.
I hope everyone had a great holiday!
I decided that instead of feeling sorry for myself yesterday, I would make it self care Sunday! I slept in (which was glorious) and then decided to clean my house. Cleaning doesn't seem like much of self care but it makes me feel better when my space is (somewhat) clean.
I reorganized underneath my kitchen cabinets and my bathroom cabinet. I cleaned out my refrigerator and a lot of my bathroom stuff that I'm no longer using. (Old face masks, old make up, etc.) I ended up with 3 bags of trash. Then I dusted and ran the vacuum. I cleaned the litter boxes and the bathroom. Then I showered, did my hair and made myself a nice meal.
Well, a sort of nice meal. Hahaha. I orignally planned to make filet migon, corn, salad and bread. Soooooo I burnt the filet and the corn wasn't that great so I ended up pitching most of the filet and corn. The salad and bread were very good though. And I had a little Reese Egg for dessert. I watched We Bought a Zoo. Then I cleaned up everything (dishes and I ended up scrubbing my stove and wall) and then I read until bed time. I even skipped Game of Thrones.
I don't feel the greatest. I have a runny nose, body aches and a cough. I'm sure it's just allergies and my damn fibro (weather changes KILL me!)
I'm not feeling very inspired to write right now but wanted to update about my self care Sunday.
I hope everyone had a great holiday!
Wednesday, April 17, 2019
Partial Victories
TT today! And it went well I think. We started on the second part of this - core beliefs. It wasn't as awful as I'd made it out in my head. But, it's still tough. My core beliefs about myself are not so great things. Don't worry, I'll list them here! Transparency, right?
So, basically, we've taken my "relevant life history" and wrote out "key" points in my life. Like family hardships, traumatic romantic relationships, etc. You take this relevant history and it forms your core beliefs about yourself. And......OUCH.
Some of my core beliefs about myself are: Insignificant, insecure, unworthy, unlovable, not good enough and unattractive.
That's as far as we got today. The next steps will be conditional assumptions/beliefs/rules and coping/compensatory strategies. I took these worksheets with me in case I feel up to work through some of it on my own.
The first half of TT was a lot of checking in on the weeks she hasn't seen me and setting the "tone" for the next two weeks and things I need to work on, besides my Cognitive Conceptualization Diagram.
The tone for the next two weeks (things I need to focus on) are boundaries, mindfulness and celebrating small/partial victories. The partial victories is something I learned in my class last night.
Often times, we forget to celebrate small or partial victories. We tend to (as humans) only celebrate once we have full success at something. (Unless you're on a diet, then you celebrate EVERYTHING). When you're dealing with trauma patients, children or adults, it's important to celebrate small victories, in the grand scheme of things. Yes, celebrating the bigger things are just as important but milestones or partial wins are a good way to keep yourself motivated and EMPOWER you by changing your mindset.
Carrie loved this idea behind celebrating partial victories and decided to run with it. We went over some of my big victories this week and some of my partial victories.
A big victory for me was going to class last night. I had pretty much talked myself out of going. Considering some of the family things that happened this weekend, I was feeling pretty overwhelmed and defeated. I had told myself that it would do me no good to go into this class, I'd probably fail anyway so I'm not going.
I decided last minute that I just needed 20 seconds of insane courage and I could do it. I got in the car and drove to the class. As I sat in the parking lot, the same thoughts occured. "Aren't you tired?' "You can't do this." "Go home." Same self talk....20 seconds of insane courage and out of the car I went.
I can't tell you any more without revealing what my class is about (it is not mental health involved) and I'm not quite ready to reveal that here. Just know, there are 11 more classes and I'm sure I'll talk about it more and more as the classes go on. If you can guess the class, I'll send you....ummm... a hug! Yeah! Everyone likes hugs! (If you already know, your guesses DO NOT count, obvi)
Carrie also brought up mantra's. Mantra's are another way of changing the way we think. And they feel soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo cheesy. I almost always roll my eyes when I say them to myself. But, my mantra last night, helped me get out of the car and into my class. (Thank you Lou Lou for the inspiration.)
Small victories for this week:
-Setting boundaries
-Putting my phone away to focus and practice mindfulness
I also have to work on saying what I want. Like, she asked me "What time is better for you? Noon or 1?" I said "Either is fine." Which isn't the case, I'd actually prefer Noon. I could live with 1. She forced me to say "I'd rather have noon." and I got Noon! Why is this an issue? Geez.
I am still a work in progress, obviously. But, I feel better then I did a few days ago, or even a few weeks ago.
AND!!!! Last but not least...to those who reached out to me after my last post, it meant the world to me. It's been a hard week, for many in my family. Today, some headway was made and it's a start. Please keep my family in your thoughts, prayers, chants, rituals...whatever. I love all my friends so much. I'm very blessed to have you guys (the whole 4 of you that read religiously)
Until next time....
So, basically, we've taken my "relevant life history" and wrote out "key" points in my life. Like family hardships, traumatic romantic relationships, etc. You take this relevant history and it forms your core beliefs about yourself. And......OUCH.
Some of my core beliefs about myself are: Insignificant, insecure, unworthy, unlovable, not good enough and unattractive.
That's as far as we got today. The next steps will be conditional assumptions/beliefs/rules and coping/compensatory strategies. I took these worksheets with me in case I feel up to work through some of it on my own.
The first half of TT was a lot of checking in on the weeks she hasn't seen me and setting the "tone" for the next two weeks and things I need to work on, besides my Cognitive Conceptualization Diagram.
The tone for the next two weeks (things I need to focus on) are boundaries, mindfulness and celebrating small/partial victories. The partial victories is something I learned in my class last night.
Often times, we forget to celebrate small or partial victories. We tend to (as humans) only celebrate once we have full success at something. (Unless you're on a diet, then you celebrate EVERYTHING). When you're dealing with trauma patients, children or adults, it's important to celebrate small victories, in the grand scheme of things. Yes, celebrating the bigger things are just as important but milestones or partial wins are a good way to keep yourself motivated and EMPOWER you by changing your mindset.
Carrie loved this idea behind celebrating partial victories and decided to run with it. We went over some of my big victories this week and some of my partial victories.
A big victory for me was going to class last night. I had pretty much talked myself out of going. Considering some of the family things that happened this weekend, I was feeling pretty overwhelmed and defeated. I had told myself that it would do me no good to go into this class, I'd probably fail anyway so I'm not going.
I decided last minute that I just needed 20 seconds of insane courage and I could do it. I got in the car and drove to the class. As I sat in the parking lot, the same thoughts occured. "Aren't you tired?' "You can't do this." "Go home." Same self talk....20 seconds of insane courage and out of the car I went.
I can't tell you any more without revealing what my class is about (it is not mental health involved) and I'm not quite ready to reveal that here. Just know, there are 11 more classes and I'm sure I'll talk about it more and more as the classes go on. If you can guess the class, I'll send you....ummm... a hug! Yeah! Everyone likes hugs! (If you already know, your guesses DO NOT count, obvi)
Carrie also brought up mantra's. Mantra's are another way of changing the way we think. And they feel soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo cheesy. I almost always roll my eyes when I say them to myself. But, my mantra last night, helped me get out of the car and into my class. (Thank you Lou Lou for the inspiration.)
Small victories for this week:
-Setting boundaries
-Putting my phone away to focus and practice mindfulness
I also have to work on saying what I want. Like, she asked me "What time is better for you? Noon or 1?" I said "Either is fine." Which isn't the case, I'd actually prefer Noon. I could live with 1. She forced me to say "I'd rather have noon." and I got Noon! Why is this an issue? Geez.
I am still a work in progress, obviously. But, I feel better then I did a few days ago, or even a few weeks ago.
AND!!!! Last but not least...to those who reached out to me after my last post, it meant the world to me. It's been a hard week, for many in my family. Today, some headway was made and it's a start. Please keep my family in your thoughts, prayers, chants, rituals...whatever. I love all my friends so much. I'm very blessed to have you guys (the whole 4 of you that read religiously)
Until next time....
Monday, April 15, 2019
Weekend
It's amazing to me how things can just ruin my day. Just instantly, I could be having a good or decent day and I get a little bit of news and my whole weekend is wrecked.
I can't mention any names but someone in my family is abusing drugs. And it isn't who (some of you) think. I have zero idea what to do about it. It is heart breaking. I'm just devastated.
I'm working extremely hard to change my thoughts and my life. I've been trying to make changes so I can do those things. I was trying to put myself first. And now I just want to run away. I want to change my phone number, grab my cats and go. Just change my life. Like in a Nora Roberts novel. Just leave, start over.
I feel like I can't say what I want because this blog is public. There is a reason it's public. I want to help people but I also want to be open and honest.
I'm tired. I'm so very tired. I want to hide. I want to go to bed and never get out. I cried on and off most of yesterday and wondered why I just can't have normal for once.
I was going to start classes tomorrow for something I've wanted to do, for so long. I feel like I can't. My life is still in such turmoil. I'm still in such turmoil. I feel like I can't start a new chapter until this old one is somewhat cleaned up. I feel so defeated. And alone. I know, I know, I have tons of friends and people that care about me. I get it. I know it. It just doesn't feel that way.
I know I'm talking in vague ideas here and I'm sorry for it. I just needed to mentally dump somewhere.
I feel very defeated. I don't know how to combat that feeling. I don't know what to do about classes tomorrow either.
Why is life so hard?
I can't mention any names but someone in my family is abusing drugs. And it isn't who (some of you) think. I have zero idea what to do about it. It is heart breaking. I'm just devastated.
I'm working extremely hard to change my thoughts and my life. I've been trying to make changes so I can do those things. I was trying to put myself first. And now I just want to run away. I want to change my phone number, grab my cats and go. Just change my life. Like in a Nora Roberts novel. Just leave, start over.
I feel like I can't say what I want because this blog is public. There is a reason it's public. I want to help people but I also want to be open and honest.
I'm tired. I'm so very tired. I want to hide. I want to go to bed and never get out. I cried on and off most of yesterday and wondered why I just can't have normal for once.
I was going to start classes tomorrow for something I've wanted to do, for so long. I feel like I can't. My life is still in such turmoil. I'm still in such turmoil. I feel like I can't start a new chapter until this old one is somewhat cleaned up. I feel so defeated. And alone. I know, I know, I have tons of friends and people that care about me. I get it. I know it. It just doesn't feel that way.
I know I'm talking in vague ideas here and I'm sorry for it. I just needed to mentally dump somewhere.
I feel very defeated. I don't know how to combat that feeling. I don't know what to do about classes tomorrow either.
Why is life so hard?
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Diagnosis.
Let's talk about my diagnoses. I'm going to be very transparent here.
My first diagnoses was clinical depression which has changed names (same disorder) to now be MDD or major depressive disorder. MDD is basically a persistent feeling of a "low mood". It isn't necessarily sadness, it's jut the lack of ... it's just .. I don't know how to explain it. I don't feel sad all the time but I don't feel happy either. A lot of times I just feel like I'm existing. I feel happiness and sadness but they are usually fleeting emotions. I have low self esteem, loss of interest in things, low energy. I think you get the idea. I am not currently suicidal. And I would like to mention that I haven't been in a very long time. There are times where I do feel like "What if I wasn't here?" "I wish this would stop." "Can't I just sleep forever?" But I have no plans (nor intend to) to hurt myself. I was diagnosed with this when I was 19 and I have been on medication and in therapy on and off ever since.
About 3-4 years ago, I was diagnosed with anxiety and PTSD. I'll address those diagnosis one at a time.
Anxiety: I think this one is pretty self explanatory. While anxiety is generally a normal emotion to have, mine can be a bit intense. I often worry about things that are out of my control to the point where you can see the physical effect is has on me. I'm often fidgety, my knee bounces a lot, sometimes when I'm super stressed, I withdraw or I count to calm myself. A lot of it is internal (and I like to pretend that no one knows how anxious I am.) Part of this is part of my major depressive disorder, part of it is from the "trauma" I've experienced; both as a child and as an adult. I would like to put this disclaimer though - if you look up anxiety, there are many, many categories. I do not have paranoia. I don't hear voices or see things or think anyone is out to get me. I mostly just worry about things that generally don't happen (like my cats are going to die this horrible horrible death while I'm visiting a friend for a few days and no one has checked on them in 24 hours) (or since "this person" didn't answer the phone and I haven't talked to them in days, they are either; dead, mad at me or abducted by aliens...) (And holy crap...this sounds like paranoia). It's complicated, damn it!
PTSD: Post traumatic stress disorder. This usually comes after a traumatic experience such as a natural disaster, abuse, rape, violence...
I'm still learning about this one myself. And honestly, I have a hard time with this diagnosis. However, I know I have symptoms of this. I seldom sit with my back to a door, I'm very aware of my environment, I monitor TV shows/movies that might trigger nightmares for me, I do have nightmares, etc. (I am not ready to talk about what brought on this particular diagnosis publicly)
All of this plays into my depression. And some of it stems from my depression, like the anxiety.
While I know that I don't have to explain myself to you or to any one, I feel it's important. I'm trying to end stigmas, talk about mental health and over all, make myself feel better. I do think this takes some type of transparency and vulnerability. AND I HATE IT. My mind tells me that I'm weak and a burden. No one cares and I'm just whining. I'm trying to end those thoughts as well.
Sometimes I cry for no reason, sometimes I am so tired, I go back to bed almost as soon as I get up. I smile a lot and play happy but a lot of times, I'm just moving through the motions. I'm very emotional and often take things extremely personally. At times, I don't sleep well, I'm up and down. Other times, I sleep for days. I have a lot of pain sometimes which makes me extra emotional and sensitive. (Thanks fibromyalgia) And sometimes, I'm completely "normal." More often then not, most don't know I struggle with these disorders. I play my cards close to my chest and share with those who are very close to me.
I get up every day (mostly) and go to work. I put on my make up, do my hair, wear clean clothes...do my job. I don't call in sick, I'm seldom late. If I commit to something, I do everything I can to be there. I'm responsible. I pay my bills. I take care of the terrorists that live in my house in the form of black cats. My house is mostly clean, most of the time. (Hide, bury, survive, remember?)
I live with these issues. I take medicine. I see TWO therapists now (I must be really nutso. 😊) I refuse to take anything but my anti-depressant. I won't take my anxiety medication (it sits in my "medicine basket" in my kitchen). I won't take anything to sleep unless I absolutely have to. I don't even take medicine for my fibromyalgia. The doctor recently put me on a antibotic for my cystic acne (Seriously, I'm 40, the zits gotta stop man!) and I only take it because GIANT RED CYSTS on my face hurt really bad and are super embarrassing. I tried an herbal supplement to help with this before seeking medicine and that backfired SO BAD. (That's a whole other post)
I'm stubborn, what can I say? I just HATE medication. I hate even taking Advil. But, you gotta do what you gotta do, right? Beats the alternative. (This is what I tell myself.)
So, there you have it. That's my junk. At least, my "official" medical junk. I just thought that maybe I should put it out there. That's what is "wrong" with me. But you know what? It doesn't define who I am! It's just part of me. It's not ALL of me. I'm funny and smart and funny! RIGHT?!?! I'm so much more then these disorders.
That's a little insight on my stuff. This was super hard for me to post. So, thanks. Thanks for reading. Thanks for following along.
My first diagnoses was clinical depression which has changed names (same disorder) to now be MDD or major depressive disorder. MDD is basically a persistent feeling of a "low mood". It isn't necessarily sadness, it's jut the lack of ... it's just .. I don't know how to explain it. I don't feel sad all the time but I don't feel happy either. A lot of times I just feel like I'm existing. I feel happiness and sadness but they are usually fleeting emotions. I have low self esteem, loss of interest in things, low energy. I think you get the idea. I am not currently suicidal. And I would like to mention that I haven't been in a very long time. There are times where I do feel like "What if I wasn't here?" "I wish this would stop." "Can't I just sleep forever?" But I have no plans (nor intend to) to hurt myself. I was diagnosed with this when I was 19 and I have been on medication and in therapy on and off ever since.
About 3-4 years ago, I was diagnosed with anxiety and PTSD. I'll address those diagnosis one at a time.
Anxiety: I think this one is pretty self explanatory. While anxiety is generally a normal emotion to have, mine can be a bit intense. I often worry about things that are out of my control to the point where you can see the physical effect is has on me. I'm often fidgety, my knee bounces a lot, sometimes when I'm super stressed, I withdraw or I count to calm myself. A lot of it is internal (and I like to pretend that no one knows how anxious I am.) Part of this is part of my major depressive disorder, part of it is from the "trauma" I've experienced; both as a child and as an adult. I would like to put this disclaimer though - if you look up anxiety, there are many, many categories. I do not have paranoia. I don't hear voices or see things or think anyone is out to get me. I mostly just worry about things that generally don't happen (like my cats are going to die this horrible horrible death while I'm visiting a friend for a few days and no one has checked on them in 24 hours) (or since "this person" didn't answer the phone and I haven't talked to them in days, they are either; dead, mad at me or abducted by aliens...) (And holy crap...this sounds like paranoia). It's complicated, damn it!
PTSD: Post traumatic stress disorder. This usually comes after a traumatic experience such as a natural disaster, abuse, rape, violence...
I'm still learning about this one myself. And honestly, I have a hard time with this diagnosis. However, I know I have symptoms of this. I seldom sit with my back to a door, I'm very aware of my environment, I monitor TV shows/movies that might trigger nightmares for me, I do have nightmares, etc. (I am not ready to talk about what brought on this particular diagnosis publicly)
All of this plays into my depression. And some of it stems from my depression, like the anxiety.
While I know that I don't have to explain myself to you or to any one, I feel it's important. I'm trying to end stigmas, talk about mental health and over all, make myself feel better. I do think this takes some type of transparency and vulnerability. AND I HATE IT. My mind tells me that I'm weak and a burden. No one cares and I'm just whining. I'm trying to end those thoughts as well.
Sometimes I cry for no reason, sometimes I am so tired, I go back to bed almost as soon as I get up. I smile a lot and play happy but a lot of times, I'm just moving through the motions. I'm very emotional and often take things extremely personally. At times, I don't sleep well, I'm up and down. Other times, I sleep for days. I have a lot of pain sometimes which makes me extra emotional and sensitive. (Thanks fibromyalgia) And sometimes, I'm completely "normal." More often then not, most don't know I struggle with these disorders. I play my cards close to my chest and share with those who are very close to me.
I get up every day (mostly) and go to work. I put on my make up, do my hair, wear clean clothes...do my job. I don't call in sick, I'm seldom late. If I commit to something, I do everything I can to be there. I'm responsible. I pay my bills. I take care of the terrorists that live in my house in the form of black cats. My house is mostly clean, most of the time. (Hide, bury, survive, remember?)
I live with these issues. I take medicine. I see TWO therapists now (I must be really nutso. 😊) I refuse to take anything but my anti-depressant. I won't take my anxiety medication (it sits in my "medicine basket" in my kitchen). I won't take anything to sleep unless I absolutely have to. I don't even take medicine for my fibromyalgia. The doctor recently put me on a antibotic for my cystic acne (Seriously, I'm 40, the zits gotta stop man!) and I only take it because GIANT RED CYSTS on my face hurt really bad and are super embarrassing. I tried an herbal supplement to help with this before seeking medicine and that backfired SO BAD. (That's a whole other post)
I'm stubborn, what can I say? I just HATE medication. I hate even taking Advil. But, you gotta do what you gotta do, right? Beats the alternative. (This is what I tell myself.)
So, there you have it. That's my junk. At least, my "official" medical junk. I just thought that maybe I should put it out there. That's what is "wrong" with me. But you know what? It doesn't define who I am! It's just part of me. It's not ALL of me. I'm funny and smart and funny! RIGHT?!?! I'm so much more then these disorders.
That's a little insight on my stuff. This was super hard for me to post. So, thanks. Thanks for reading. Thanks for following along.
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Mental Illness
When I was 19, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. Now, it's been changed to major depressive disorder, anxiety and PTSD but I digress....
When I think of mental illness, I think of "crazy." Therapists (and myself honestly) hate this term. There really isn't such a thing as crazy. But, I think of that word when I hear mental illness. I think about people who hallucinate or hear voices or shout nonsense at random people. I know most of the technical terms for those conditions now. And none of them are "crazy."
I don't think of depression or anxiety as a mental illness, though it most def. is. I get such an attitude when people categorize me in with people who have schizophrenia or bipolar. I'm not saying ANYTHING bad about people who have these conditions. I know people who do. I just don't feel like depression or anxiety fall into this same category.
But, it does. I have a disorder that impacts my mood, thinking and behavior. This is no different then someone who has OCD. Those people have excessive thoughts/obsessions that lead to compulsions. I have a mood disorder. I constantly feel sad and I focus on negative emotions and negative things I have experienced.
I look at things like this on a scale and I shouldn't. On a scale of 1-10, depression seems much lower then schizophrenia. If you think about it though, depression and anxiety can lead to serious issues, like suicide. So, putting it down on the "lower" end of 1-10 doesn't always fit.
I guess this just all goes back to the stigma behind mental illness and how my very own brain has been conditioned to think something is worse then the other, when it all impacts our brains, our moods, our thoughts, etc. The treatments are different but it's in our heads (as a figure of speech.)
I remember when my doctor put me on Prozac. And how I cried and cried because Prozac is the CRAZY MEDICINE!!!! There's even a sigma around the medicines that could help us.
I've actually had several discussions with my therapist (MA is what we'll call her, she's not the TT therapist). I've argued my depression diagnoses. I feel like I have more anxiety then depression but then...you know, she reminded me of the days (mostly weekends), I don't get out of bed, or I sleep 20 out of 24 hours. And when I was diagnosed with PTSD, I vehemently disagreed. Then MA reminded me of the nightmares, the fact I only remember bits and pieces of a 2-3 year span, the physical things that happen when I try to get past this big T trauma....
You don't have to have served in a war to have PTSD. At least not a war in Iraq or Afghanistan. My war was here at home.
Did you know that depression is the most common mental illness in America?
*Side note: I'm very blessed to have amazing friends during this journey. You all have been so supportive! The text messages and comments have blown me away. Mental Illness (puke) makes me feel very alone and isolated. It also lies. The messages I've received have been so loving and supportive. Some have even made me cry! Thank you all so much! From the bottom of my heart, I have so much gratitude. Thank you for reading my ramblings and supporting me. I'm speechless.*
When I think of mental illness, I think of "crazy." Therapists (and myself honestly) hate this term. There really isn't such a thing as crazy. But, I think of that word when I hear mental illness. I think about people who hallucinate or hear voices or shout nonsense at random people. I know most of the technical terms for those conditions now. And none of them are "crazy."
I don't think of depression or anxiety as a mental illness, though it most def. is. I get such an attitude when people categorize me in with people who have schizophrenia or bipolar. I'm not saying ANYTHING bad about people who have these conditions. I know people who do. I just don't feel like depression or anxiety fall into this same category.
But, it does. I have a disorder that impacts my mood, thinking and behavior. This is no different then someone who has OCD. Those people have excessive thoughts/obsessions that lead to compulsions. I have a mood disorder. I constantly feel sad and I focus on negative emotions and negative things I have experienced.
I look at things like this on a scale and I shouldn't. On a scale of 1-10, depression seems much lower then schizophrenia. If you think about it though, depression and anxiety can lead to serious issues, like suicide. So, putting it down on the "lower" end of 1-10 doesn't always fit.
I guess this just all goes back to the stigma behind mental illness and how my very own brain has been conditioned to think something is worse then the other, when it all impacts our brains, our moods, our thoughts, etc. The treatments are different but it's in our heads (as a figure of speech.)
I remember when my doctor put me on Prozac. And how I cried and cried because Prozac is the CRAZY MEDICINE!!!! There's even a sigma around the medicines that could help us.
I've actually had several discussions with my therapist (MA is what we'll call her, she's not the TT therapist). I've argued my depression diagnoses. I feel like I have more anxiety then depression but then...you know, she reminded me of the days (mostly weekends), I don't get out of bed, or I sleep 20 out of 24 hours. And when I was diagnosed with PTSD, I vehemently disagreed. Then MA reminded me of the nightmares, the fact I only remember bits and pieces of a 2-3 year span, the physical things that happen when I try to get past this big T trauma....
You don't have to have served in a war to have PTSD. At least not a war in Iraq or Afghanistan. My war was here at home.
Did you know that depression is the most common mental illness in America?
*Side note: I'm very blessed to have amazing friends during this journey. You all have been so supportive! The text messages and comments have blown me away. Mental Illness (puke) makes me feel very alone and isolated. It also lies. The messages I've received have been so loving and supportive. Some have even made me cry! Thank you all so much! From the bottom of my heart, I have so much gratitude. Thank you for reading my ramblings and supporting me. I'm speechless.*
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
Hoard
I'm not sure how much of this has to do with my mental health but I was thinking about it this morning....
Does anyone else hoard items? I'm not talking about hoarding to the point where you can't walk through your living room. And maybe "hoard" isn't the right word but I feel like that's what I do.
This morning, I ran out of my primer (for my face) so I went to my stash and grabbed another bottle. I saw that I grabbed the last bottle and made a mental note to myself to get more.
In my stash, this is number of items that I have duplicates of. Such as; deodorant, primer, toothbrushes, setting spray, Cottenelle wipes, travel size items, etc. This doesn't include that under my bathroom sink I have more duplicates of items like my foundation, shampoo/conditioner, hair gel, body wash, etc.
I thought about it on my way to work this morning. I've never done without things I need, as long as I can remember. Growing up, we may not have had everything we wanted but we had everything we need. I never remember a time I didn't have toothpaste, or a toothbrush or soap. As well as other things we needed.
I wonder sometimes if I'm just afraid. I'm afraid of running out or not having what I need, when I need it. Or, could this be some part of my mental illness. (I need to post another blog about the term "mental illness")
I've never thought about me "hoarding" until now. Maybe it's because I'm making changes to how I think and how I do things....that all the sudden I wondered if my "hoarding" is something else I do.
I think a lot of it is that I'm afraid I'll run out of things I consider essential. It makes my anxiety really high if I don't have these things on hand.
It's not hurting anything. And no one really knows I do this (except a friend made fun of me once for having about 5 toothbrushes in my stash).
Does anyone else do this? PLEASE tell me I'm not the only one. I'm curious to know any thoughts on this. Am I making this a bigger deal in my head? Please tell me! :)
Does anyone else hoard items? I'm not talking about hoarding to the point where you can't walk through your living room. And maybe "hoard" isn't the right word but I feel like that's what I do.
This morning, I ran out of my primer (for my face) so I went to my stash and grabbed another bottle. I saw that I grabbed the last bottle and made a mental note to myself to get more.
In my stash, this is number of items that I have duplicates of. Such as; deodorant, primer, toothbrushes, setting spray, Cottenelle wipes, travel size items, etc. This doesn't include that under my bathroom sink I have more duplicates of items like my foundation, shampoo/conditioner, hair gel, body wash, etc.
I thought about it on my way to work this morning. I've never done without things I need, as long as I can remember. Growing up, we may not have had everything we wanted but we had everything we need. I never remember a time I didn't have toothpaste, or a toothbrush or soap. As well as other things we needed.
I wonder sometimes if I'm just afraid. I'm afraid of running out or not having what I need, when I need it. Or, could this be some part of my mental illness. (I need to post another blog about the term "mental illness")
I've never thought about me "hoarding" until now. Maybe it's because I'm making changes to how I think and how I do things....that all the sudden I wondered if my "hoarding" is something else I do.
I think a lot of it is that I'm afraid I'll run out of things I consider essential. It makes my anxiety really high if I don't have these things on hand.
It's not hurting anything. And no one really knows I do this (except a friend made fun of me once for having about 5 toothbrushes in my stash).
Does anyone else do this? PLEASE tell me I'm not the only one. I'm curious to know any thoughts on this. Am I making this a bigger deal in my head? Please tell me! :)
Wednesday, April 3, 2019
Self Care
Self care is such a weird statement to me. I have no idea why. I guess maybe it's because I was never really taught self care. Or, today's version of self care. I always thought self care was just that; taking care of yourself. You know, showering, brushing your teeth, paying your bills so you aren't homeless...
It turns out that self care is much more then that, or so I'm told. Part of my homework from TT is that I write at least five self care "activities." In TT on Monday, we talked about different ways for self care, like setting boundaries, saying no to things, taking time for yourself, etc. There are also self care activities that you can do to recharge yourself, help yourself relax and make time to make yourself a priority.
It feels somewhat silly to think about how things that seem indulgent could actually be self care. I don't remember growing up, my mom taking a lot of time for self care. You just didn't do that. It just seemed so selfish. She had kids to raise, an alcoholic husband to deal with, a job to work, a house to keep up...there wasn't time to take a bubble bath or read a book. As we got older and she divorced my dad, I remember some self care activities but they were still so limited. It simply wasn't something she did. I don't remember other moms doing these things either. They had husbands to keep, houses to clean, kids to raise, meals to cook, activities to plan....no time for anything else. And I can see how even moms today would feel this way. There's no time.
Are you seeing the same trend that I am? We are so conditioned. Whether it's said to you or what you see, it's ingrained in us how to care for ourselves or...in my case, the lack of care for myself. My mom always put us first, or my dad. She always came last. I'm very much the same way. I don't have children or a husband but I put my family first; like my parents or my brother and then I do things for other people. I'm terrible at putting myself first. I tell people (who do not believe me) that I physically do NOT KNOW how to put myself first.
This is another thing that I'm learning. I've always heard of self care and I've even done a few things here and there. I'm just going out of my way now (which feels SUPER selfish) to make sure I take care of myself a little more.
My five self care activities are (and it was difficult to come up with five!):
It turns out that self care is much more then that, or so I'm told. Part of my homework from TT is that I write at least five self care "activities." In TT on Monday, we talked about different ways for self care, like setting boundaries, saying no to things, taking time for yourself, etc. There are also self care activities that you can do to recharge yourself, help yourself relax and make time to make yourself a priority.
It feels somewhat silly to think about how things that seem indulgent could actually be self care. I don't remember growing up, my mom taking a lot of time for self care. You just didn't do that. It just seemed so selfish. She had kids to raise, an alcoholic husband to deal with, a job to work, a house to keep up...there wasn't time to take a bubble bath or read a book. As we got older and she divorced my dad, I remember some self care activities but they were still so limited. It simply wasn't something she did. I don't remember other moms doing these things either. They had husbands to keep, houses to clean, kids to raise, meals to cook, activities to plan....no time for anything else. And I can see how even moms today would feel this way. There's no time.
Are you seeing the same trend that I am? We are so conditioned. Whether it's said to you or what you see, it's ingrained in us how to care for ourselves or...in my case, the lack of care for myself. My mom always put us first, or my dad. She always came last. I'm very much the same way. I don't have children or a husband but I put my family first; like my parents or my brother and then I do things for other people. I'm terrible at putting myself first. I tell people (who do not believe me) that I physically do NOT KNOW how to put myself first.
This is another thing that I'm learning. I've always heard of self care and I've even done a few things here and there. I'm just going out of my way now (which feels SUPER selfish) to make sure I take care of myself a little more.
My five self care activities are (and it was difficult to come up with five!):
- Bath bombs (in a bath of course, and preferably from Lush)
- Pedicures
- Reading
- Color Street
- Painting
Apparently, I have even inspired my sister to do some self care! She watched her favorite show last night with her favorite snack and had a bubble bath planned for after!
I've been slacking on my chores this week. After such an amazing week last week, I'm really disappointed in myself. (Not so disappointed that I'm actually doing these chores but I feel super bad about it.) So, I'm trying to be kinder (self care) to myself and look at what I have accomplished.
What do you do for self care?
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Survive
I had this huge post written out and I deleted all of it. It felt...unnatural. Since I'm all about being organic and transparent, that post didn't make it.
I was going to write this post about trauma therapy, my time line and try to give more information but that's not what today is about.
Side note: My sister mentioned last night that she'd never heard of trauma therapy (and honestly, neither had I) so I searched around and found this great article that tells about it and the different approaches. That's all I'm going to say about that.
I'm not sure what today is about, except I'm tired and not feeling this whole positive, crunchy vibe I've been projecting. I feel weepy and tired. I want to cry and sleep and just feel sorry for myself. I posted this morning on my Insta about being enough. I am enough. Even on days that I want to be sad and kind of depressed, I'm enough. I'm allowed to have down days. I'm allowed to be emotional. I just can't stay in this spot.
This is usually how I feel the day after TT (trauma therapy, because who wants to type that out every time?). I feel tired and emotional and spent. Even though I felt great yesterday afterwards, I had time to think about it, blog about it and sleep on it. I didn't sleep well.
My standard response to "Are you okay?" (which I've already been asked) is always "Yep, just tired." I wish people knew how much "just tired" encompassed. In all honesty though, do people really care how you are? Are they genuinely asking or just asking to be nice? What would this person say if I said something like "I had therapy yesterday, it was really hard and I'm feeling it today"?
There's still such a stigma around depression and mental illness. I try to be honest and transparent in my journey to eliminate that stigma. I'm just a person who struggles with a few extra emotional things. I'm not sad all the time, I'm not suicidal (mostly); I just struggle. As a society, we treat people with mental illness like lepers. In a way, however, society has made us the way we are.
We aren't taught to heal. We aren't taught about self care. We're taught to keep moving. I saw a post about this on Instagram and saved it to my phone. This sums up the view on mental illness so perfectly.
I can't tell you how many times in my life that I've been judged for being on medication or seeing a therapist. "Why can't you just feel better?" "Why can't you just get over it?" "You have a good life, you should be happier."
Why have these things never occurred to me? (Insert eye roll here) I've even said these things to myself. And it wasn't until recently that I was asked a different question...a question that stopped me in my tracks.
WHY SHOULDN'T I FEEL THIS WAY??? I've had some BIG trauma in my life. I've dealt with things most people haven't. Why shouldn't that impact me? Would we tell someone with diabetes to just man up? Eat better and you'll be fine? How about someone with glasses? Why don't you have perfect eye sight? Why can't you see?
I get it, I hear you....people with diabetes and people that wear glasses are born with these conditions or these conditions develop over time. Or, they've inherited it. I hate to inform you....mental illness is very much the same way. It's inherited, it's conditioned, it's something that develops over time.
I've buried. I've kept moving. I've never dealt with the pain, or the loss, or the grief or the TRAUMA (I hate this word, it feels so weak). I've survived. And I've done a damn good job of surviving. But at what cost? What has this survival cost me? Has it cost me relationships? Yes. Has it cost me Joy? Yes. Has it cost me my health? In some ways, yes. As I mentioned yesterday, all this has seeped into every faucet of my life, in one way or another.
In my valiant effort to stop the stigma, it's time to heal. It's time to put me first. It's time for change. It's time to teach myself that I'm important. It's just time!!!!
I was going to write this post about trauma therapy, my time line and try to give more information but that's not what today is about.
Side note: My sister mentioned last night that she'd never heard of trauma therapy (and honestly, neither had I) so I searched around and found this great article that tells about it and the different approaches. That's all I'm going to say about that.
I'm not sure what today is about, except I'm tired and not feeling this whole positive, crunchy vibe I've been projecting. I feel weepy and tired. I want to cry and sleep and just feel sorry for myself. I posted this morning on my Insta about being enough. I am enough. Even on days that I want to be sad and kind of depressed, I'm enough. I'm allowed to have down days. I'm allowed to be emotional. I just can't stay in this spot.
This is usually how I feel the day after TT (trauma therapy, because who wants to type that out every time?). I feel tired and emotional and spent. Even though I felt great yesterday afterwards, I had time to think about it, blog about it and sleep on it. I didn't sleep well.
My standard response to "Are you okay?" (which I've already been asked) is always "Yep, just tired." I wish people knew how much "just tired" encompassed. In all honesty though, do people really care how you are? Are they genuinely asking or just asking to be nice? What would this person say if I said something like "I had therapy yesterday, it was really hard and I'm feeling it today"?
There's still such a stigma around depression and mental illness. I try to be honest and transparent in my journey to eliminate that stigma. I'm just a person who struggles with a few extra emotional things. I'm not sad all the time, I'm not suicidal (mostly); I just struggle. As a society, we treat people with mental illness like lepers. In a way, however, society has made us the way we are.
We aren't taught to heal. We aren't taught about self care. We're taught to keep moving. I saw a post about this on Instagram and saved it to my phone. This sums up the view on mental illness so perfectly.
I can't tell you how many times in my life that I've been judged for being on medication or seeing a therapist. "Why can't you just feel better?" "Why can't you just get over it?" "You have a good life, you should be happier."
Why have these things never occurred to me? (Insert eye roll here) I've even said these things to myself. And it wasn't until recently that I was asked a different question...a question that stopped me in my tracks.
WHY SHOULDN'T I FEEL THIS WAY??? I've had some BIG trauma in my life. I've dealt with things most people haven't. Why shouldn't that impact me? Would we tell someone with diabetes to just man up? Eat better and you'll be fine? How about someone with glasses? Why don't you have perfect eye sight? Why can't you see?
I get it, I hear you....people with diabetes and people that wear glasses are born with these conditions or these conditions develop over time. Or, they've inherited it. I hate to inform you....mental illness is very much the same way. It's inherited, it's conditioned, it's something that develops over time.
I've buried. I've kept moving. I've never dealt with the pain, or the loss, or the grief or the TRAUMA (I hate this word, it feels so weak). I've survived. And I've done a damn good job of surviving. But at what cost? What has this survival cost me? Has it cost me relationships? Yes. Has it cost me Joy? Yes. Has it cost me my health? In some ways, yes. As I mentioned yesterday, all this has seeped into every faucet of my life, in one way or another.
In my valiant effort to stop the stigma, it's time to heal. It's time to put me first. It's time for change. It's time to teach myself that I'm important. It's just time!!!!
Monday, April 1, 2019
The beginning
I'm never sure how to start a blog. I've started them in the past but never kept up with them This one will be different!
Recently, I've started changing things in my life. It's been a long, rough road to get to 40. Yes, the big FOUR OH. In December of 2018, I turned forty. And looking around at my life was the most depressing thing I'd ever done.
Single, childless, living in a small apartment in a small town, working an okay job...and I was sad as hell. It took me forty years to accumulate a lot of trauma, a lot of sadness, a lot of guilt, a lot of pain and a sense of humor that borders on darkness and self deprecation.
On the outside, I'm fine. Hair mostly done, make up on, clean clothes, on time to work every day, paying my bills, doing this adult thing. On the inside, I'm a broken mess of mosaic pieces that haven't fit together in a very long time. But, I see my therapist every Friday and take my little green and yellow pills and keep it moving.
2019 was going to bring change. And I had to fight for it. I needed my inside to match my outside.
Buzz through January. No change. More of the same. I spent the start of the year helping a friend recover from her double mastectomy, cried through the three year anniversary of my Cindy's death and my company moved into a new building on the other side of town.
February rolls around....I'm in Florida for my brothers birthday. I'm miserable and bored. I spend a lot of cold, dark days in the confines of my apartment, watching Netflix and annoying my cats.
The new office building comes with a bunch of new, fancy other offices. Including a dentist office, a real estate agency and a counseling center. I would never dream of leaving my current therapist or making any kind of change in my unhappy life so I dismissed the idea of a new, fancy counselor.
One day, I decided to look up this new, fancy counseling center. After a half hour on the internet, I made an appointment. WHAT! No. There I was, at my desk, penning in my appointment in my trusty planner.
February 20th rolled around and down the hall I went. This isn't going to work. I was doing just fine. But, we'll see how this session goes and never see her again.
An hour later and a half of box of tissues down the garbage, I was making my second appointment and settling into the idea of "trauma therapy."
I'm currently four sessions in and I'm getting comfortable with my new fancy therapist named Carrie. And the changes are starting. Trauma therapy is a new thing to me. It involves a lot of work, emotionally and mentally. It will involve getting into my "core beliefs" about myself, where those beliefs came from, time lines of my life to include the highs/lows, sitting in my trauma, conceptualtion (which I'm still wrapping my head around that.)
I have home work now. I have to make lists and search inside myself. And it's really fucking hard. The timeline is the worst. Writing out my life, in chunks of time and listing the lows (bottom part of the sheet) and the highs (top part of the sheet) and seeing that my life, in blue ink, is made up more of lows then highs. And those lows started when I was so small, that I've carried that damage into every faucet of my life. My life, in blue and white...the trauma was palpable. There are things on this time line that are never spoke of. They are like "trauma which shall not be named" and my life is some sort of twisted Harry Potter book. Minus the happy ending. I do have my own bald guy though, or did.
I tell myself the work will be worth it. I've started posting (each day) a positive thing on Instagram. I try to do it each morning, to set the tone for my day. I find myself looking and seeking out positive things so I can post them and improve myself. I write myself notes each day. (This makes me feel so lame) I make a list of things I need to do that night (chores) and I leave myself a little note that says "You got this!" or "Get it girl!" and I smile a bit when I cross off the chores I've done. I feel accomplished. Just last week, I cleaned my entire apartment in just an hour or two a night. I showered four times last week.
I know these may seem like small things to most but when you're so deep into your depression, the little things stop mattering. Like showering more then twice a week. And fixing my hair. And cleaning my bathroom and doing my dishes. No one sees the inside of my apartment. So, what does it matter? Well, I'm not caring for myself and it shows in my environment.
I have such a fear of the unknown. My anxiety is high. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I do have a small spark of hope with these small changes but I've been down this road before. I want to do the work now though. I'm so tired of feeling this way and my mental illness lying to me.
On top of my positive Instagram, I've limited my screen time with Facebook because it sucks and I'm going to give this blog a go. Maybe I'll help someone. I've had a few friends (and MY SISTER!) reach out to me to say they see my change and they are rooting for me. Two friends have said I'm inspiring them and just this morning, my sister revealed her own fight. Anyone who knows me, knows my heart is in helping people. So, if my transparency and fight help others, then I'm going to go for it.
My whole life has been intense. Hell, I'm intense. Keenly Kopp seemed fitting.
So, here we go. Thanks for reading all this. Thanks for being here. I figure if you're reading this, you're my friend or related but thanks for reading all the same!
We're all on this roller coaster together and no one gets out alive. Let's help each other! Start today.
Recently, I've started changing things in my life. It's been a long, rough road to get to 40. Yes, the big FOUR OH. In December of 2018, I turned forty. And looking around at my life was the most depressing thing I'd ever done.
Single, childless, living in a small apartment in a small town, working an okay job...and I was sad as hell. It took me forty years to accumulate a lot of trauma, a lot of sadness, a lot of guilt, a lot of pain and a sense of humor that borders on darkness and self deprecation.
On the outside, I'm fine. Hair mostly done, make up on, clean clothes, on time to work every day, paying my bills, doing this adult thing. On the inside, I'm a broken mess of mosaic pieces that haven't fit together in a very long time. But, I see my therapist every Friday and take my little green and yellow pills and keep it moving.
2019 was going to bring change. And I had to fight for it. I needed my inside to match my outside.
Buzz through January. No change. More of the same. I spent the start of the year helping a friend recover from her double mastectomy, cried through the three year anniversary of my Cindy's death and my company moved into a new building on the other side of town.
February rolls around....I'm in Florida for my brothers birthday. I'm miserable and bored. I spend a lot of cold, dark days in the confines of my apartment, watching Netflix and annoying my cats.
The new office building comes with a bunch of new, fancy other offices. Including a dentist office, a real estate agency and a counseling center. I would never dream of leaving my current therapist or making any kind of change in my unhappy life so I dismissed the idea of a new, fancy counselor.
One day, I decided to look up this new, fancy counseling center. After a half hour on the internet, I made an appointment. WHAT! No. There I was, at my desk, penning in my appointment in my trusty planner.
February 20th rolled around and down the hall I went. This isn't going to work. I was doing just fine. But, we'll see how this session goes and never see her again.
An hour later and a half of box of tissues down the garbage, I was making my second appointment and settling into the idea of "trauma therapy."
I'm currently four sessions in and I'm getting comfortable with my new fancy therapist named Carrie. And the changes are starting. Trauma therapy is a new thing to me. It involves a lot of work, emotionally and mentally. It will involve getting into my "core beliefs" about myself, where those beliefs came from, time lines of my life to include the highs/lows, sitting in my trauma, conceptualtion (which I'm still wrapping my head around that.)
I have home work now. I have to make lists and search inside myself. And it's really fucking hard. The timeline is the worst. Writing out my life, in chunks of time and listing the lows (bottom part of the sheet) and the highs (top part of the sheet) and seeing that my life, in blue ink, is made up more of lows then highs. And those lows started when I was so small, that I've carried that damage into every faucet of my life. My life, in blue and white...the trauma was palpable. There are things on this time line that are never spoke of. They are like "trauma which shall not be named" and my life is some sort of twisted Harry Potter book. Minus the happy ending. I do have my own bald guy though, or did.
I tell myself the work will be worth it. I've started posting (each day) a positive thing on Instagram. I try to do it each morning, to set the tone for my day. I find myself looking and seeking out positive things so I can post them and improve myself. I write myself notes each day. (This makes me feel so lame) I make a list of things I need to do that night (chores) and I leave myself a little note that says "You got this!" or "Get it girl!" and I smile a bit when I cross off the chores I've done. I feel accomplished. Just last week, I cleaned my entire apartment in just an hour or two a night. I showered four times last week.
I know these may seem like small things to most but when you're so deep into your depression, the little things stop mattering. Like showering more then twice a week. And fixing my hair. And cleaning my bathroom and doing my dishes. No one sees the inside of my apartment. So, what does it matter? Well, I'm not caring for myself and it shows in my environment.
I have such a fear of the unknown. My anxiety is high. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I do have a small spark of hope with these small changes but I've been down this road before. I want to do the work now though. I'm so tired of feeling this way and my mental illness lying to me.
On top of my positive Instagram, I've limited my screen time with Facebook because it sucks and I'm going to give this blog a go. Maybe I'll help someone. I've had a few friends (and MY SISTER!) reach out to me to say they see my change and they are rooting for me. Two friends have said I'm inspiring them and just this morning, my sister revealed her own fight. Anyone who knows me, knows my heart is in helping people. So, if my transparency and fight help others, then I'm going to go for it.
My whole life has been intense. Hell, I'm intense. Keenly Kopp seemed fitting.
So, here we go. Thanks for reading all this. Thanks for being here. I figure if you're reading this, you're my friend or related but thanks for reading all the same!
We're all on this roller coaster together and no one gets out alive. Let's help each other! Start today.
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