I’m at Work

I got up early as usual. I noticed right away that I wasn’t feeling buoyant. I felt low. My negative self-talk was running, and I was trying to counter it as best I could.

I was able to meditate for a good long time, and that made me feel very good. I crashed after, though. Came back down to the low feeling.

I was struggling all morning. I did not take a walk. I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t make my bed either, which is out of character for me.

All this is due to the stress from my recent loss. I’m having good days and bad days. Sometimes they are good hours followed by bad hours.

I made the determination to come to work no matter how I felt today, so I’m at work. Right now, I feel flat, not good and not bad. I think being at work is a good thing. I have tasks to perform, and that takes my mind off my situation.

This blog is about solutions. I don’t know which solution is working today, but I’m walking through my difficulties. Just walking through it.

Ritual

When I got home from work last night, my negative self-talk exploded without all the distractions of work related tasks. I simply couldn’t stop all the dark thoughts. I was in a lot of pain. I was reciting the positive things I have in my life, but it just wasn’t enough.

My best friend had what turned out to be a lifesaving idea: write them down and burn them. I got a sheet of paper and filled it front and back with all the stuff that my mind was lying to me about. I put down the darkest, most horrific thoughts that my mind was filled with.

I loosely wadded it up and put it in an old can and lit it on fire. I took a picture of it burning and texted it to my friend. It honestly felt good, and while it was burning, I got a great idea to do the same thing with all the beautiful things I could say about myself.

I did that. I filled the front and back of a sheet of paper with love about myself, with the names of people I know who love me, and with good things in my life. It felt good just to write them down. I did the same thing with this list. I burned it. I released the good energy, and I felt wonderful!

I am so grateful to have a friend who thinks so imaginatively. It was a little ritual that honestly rescued me.

xoxo

Negative Self-Talk

I had a really good session with my therapist yesterday. We were able to work through my anger I was feeling toward him. I was also able to talk more about this enormous loss. Finally, we went through the really interesting dream I had. It had a lot of hope in it.

I’m struggling this morning. My negative self-talk is really loud. I’m combating it by first coming to work. Keeping busy will give my mind less time to wander.

I’m also using a technique I learned: Catch it. Check it. Change it. The first thing to do is catch the negative thoughts. Then check their veracity, and finally to change the thoughts.

With the kind of loss I’ve suffered, my mind is telling me lies about many things. I’ve got a list of ways to counter those thoughts. I’m having to repeat those things a lot, and it’s tiring.

Recovery is tiring. I’m going to keep doing it just for today. I’ll let tomorrow worry about itself.

I Finally Cried

It happened this morning.

I went to bed early last night feeling quite depressed. I slept well much to my surprise, and I had a vivid dream about living in a big house with electric blinds and then flying while transporting a pregnant woman. It was a dream to remember. I wrote it down in my notebook I keep in my phone. Yes, I have a dream journal in my 21st century phone.

I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror this morning. I went down and made a cup of tea and started my routine. When it came time for meditation, I settled on my stool and closed my eyes. I managed about fifteen minutes of breathing amid wandering thoughts, returning to breathing and reciting a mantra I’ve learned from a correspondence course. Yes, I’m receiving instructions on meditation through the mail in the 21st century.

My thoughts wandered, and I opened my eyes. I moved to the couch, and I started to fiddle with my tarot cards. I sat there realizing all the joy I’ve felt over the past few months is completely gone – all of it – and I started to cry. It came slowly. Just a trickle. Then it came on strong, and I just cried.

I don’t really know how long it lasted. It wasn’t terribly long, but I felt utterly drained afterward.

I have therapy tonight. I have much to talk about including my anger at my therapist.

As I review what I’ve written here, my dream gives me hope. I’m pregnant with something. The flying was an escape. It doesn’t take a great deal to decipher.

How Long Does Grieving Take?

I had two therapy sessions last week. I was reeling from the realization that my parents don’t love me and needed the time with my psychologist.

When I entered the second time, he said, “You’re giving your father a lot of power.” I stewed about that all weekend and decided I didn’t like it. I’m grieving, and that takes time.

Since my anger started, I really got myself worked up about it. I got good and upset. Then I had a chance to hear some other perspectives from people on the internet whom I respect. They said he’s probably just trying to remind me that I’m stronger than I think I am. One person responded that I’m freaking out thinking it’s an emergency, but the therapist is telling me to calm down and “you’ve got this.” That’s a great illustration. I really have been panicking, but I don’t have to. My life will continue without my parents. I still have very good people who love me exactly like I am.

So now I’m wondering how long grief takes. One person with a similar experience told me that residual pain never really goes away, but you learn to live with the change. I think I understand that. I’ve had moments when I was really hurting, but at the same time, I would know that I’m going to be OK. Different, but OK.

And for the record, my anger at my therapist is just transference. I was feeling the anger at him that would more rightly be directed at my father. Realizing that kind of stuff helps me understand what’s going on.

Recovery in Action

Recovery works. Over the past week, I have weathered a maelstrom that could have easily set me back. I could have easily slipped back into depression and spiraled out of the life I’ve created.

Ten years ago, my day was a success if I brushed my teeth. That was it. That’s the point I was at. I could have reverted to that.

But that created life includes recovery tools that I’ve made a habit to use. I have constantly preached in this blog and in my life that I take medicine as prescribed by my psychiatrist, I meditate daily to give myself a calm center to retreat to when things are out of kilter, I see my therapist regularly and tell him everything, I get exercise, I eat wholesome food, and I get good sleep.

Medication.

Meditation.

Therapy.

Exercise.

Diet.

Sleep.

I have stayed stable in the face of being abandoned by my parents because I’m gay, because my recovery tools are habitual.

Am I tooting my own horn? Yes. Am I showing arrogance? Not if it’s the truth.

My reason for writing this blog has always been to show that it’s possible to lead a good life even while living with a mental illness. It’s not an easy thing to do. I have proven that it’s possible.

If I can do it, others can, too.

Long Road to Recovery

I’ve had some bleak days, but I’ve also had periods of calm. If you wonder what has happened, see my last post.

I’ve been using my recovery tools.

I’ve been using the medication my doctor gave me to help with the situation, and I’m grateful to have it. It honestly helps a great deal.

I’ve been meditating. I had a very long one this morning.

I’ve been to therapy, and I have another appointment coming up next week. I’ve also been to some AA meetings. They’ve been helpful. Most importantly, I’ve got some good friends checking on my daily. I cannot adequately express how good that feels.

I have walked some. Not daily, but I have walked. Exercise is a good idea when I’m feeling low.

I’m eating good food. Yesterday, I actually cooked for myself, which is something I rarely do. That’s real self-care. I took the time to wash mushrooms and cook them and eat them over toast. I did it for myself.

I’m making sure I get good, restorative sleep.

Medication, meditation, therapy, exercise, diet, and sleep are the important tools I use to stay stable.

This morning, I’m battling negative self-talk. I know it’s lies, but it’s so loud. Pain in a situation like this comes and goes in waves, and today I’m in a wave. It will pass. Soon, I hope.