I felt optimistic on my 45 minute drive to the therapist this morning. Two bald eagles, at different times, flew right by me. Made me think of freedom and the AA slogan “Freedom from the bondage of self.” It’s all I really want right now.
Then I parked my car, and immediately upon entering the mental health building I was struck by the shortness of breath panic that comes with anxiety. I’m agrophobic when I’m depressed.
I began crying before I could even check myself into the appointment. But I stayed. I met with my therapist. That in itself is a great accomplishment. A positive.
General understanding I got through today’s session was that I lack compassion for myself. This only makes the depression worse as I judge what I am doing and what I’m not doing creating this shame spiral because I have expectations for myself that I cannot possibly live up to when it takes much willpower to just walk through a door.
So here’s some positives going for me during this dip:
- I’m not drinking. I have nearly three years sober and know from experience that drinking while depressed leads me to one solution: suicide.Because I don’t even view alcohol as an option, for the first time I felt like cutting myself, a form of self-harm I’ve never considered. I used my DBT skills and “urge surfed” this option- thinking all the consequences out and the urge went away.
- Then I went to the DBT distress tolerance tool of distraction. I masturbated instead. Much more enjoyable than cutting myself or drinking to oblivion.
- On the 45 min. Drive back home, I thought about being more compassionate to myself and gave it over to “the force”. Immediately this song came on the radio:
Today I feel physically ill as well as mentally off. A bit of a chicken vs egg dilemma. Did I go from high to low because I am getting a cold or did I get this cold because I have psychologically dipped into the depths of my disease.
I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow morning. I worked an hour and a half from home today but do not know if I can do much more. At least not today.
The thought of faking mental wellness around others is as tiring as the act itself, which is why I don’t want to physically go to work.
This disease is conniving. Last week I felt invincible- getting all my tasks done at super human speed. Asking for additional assignments. But at the same time finding it impossible to concentrate for more than four hours on work.
This week I feel a failure. Unable to concentrate at all. Barley able to return emails, and unable to fake professionalism on the phone.
Bi-polar for me is going from Wonder Woman to a Dickens’s wretched street urchin in a day.
I’m having a tough time managing my bipolar symptoms lately. I went through a tough spot in August when I tried a med change and ended up burning my boob (a good story for another time).
This time I felt I was rapid cycling for a couple weeks, and now have hit that deep depression dip. I so desperately want to control this teeter totter; sit right in the middle keeping it perfectly balanced. But right now there’s a 500 pound weight of chemicals, a bag of wires missing from my brain which are causing a severe dip down which I cannot control.
So. This posting every day in April thing is not going so well. Neither is my “Sunday Sobriety Song” plan of posting a song related to addiction, recovery or sobriety every Sunday. Changes need to be made.
First, I’ll post what I can when I can. I’m going to shoot for Second Sunday Sobriety Song, which means you may get to hear a ditty this coming Sunday. I’ll try to be better at cultivating my blog, but know I’m a flawed human so no expectations. Some committments I cannot keep, or need to change.
Let’s move along now. How was your Easter/Passover/ Bunny Zombie Jesus weekend? Mine was pretty good. My extremly good looking and intellegent son came to visit this weekend for the first time at my new homestead.
I have spent the past two days (while not working and sleeping) binge-watching Bloodlines, an intriguing family drama/suspense series which has done serious damage to my waistline. I initially guffawed at the media attention correlating binge TV watching to binge-eating, but my personal, non-mindful experiment has found it to be correct.
Time’s online magazine published an article yesterday, “This is What Binge Eating Does to Your Health”, describing a recent study that states the more you sit in front of the television, the higher your risk of diabetes. The article merely states that it is the act of being sedentary that causes the risk, not even addressing behaviors one partakes in while watching television.
I had a junk food binge last night that would make a six-year-old left alone with an Easter basket this Sunday marvel. I’m not going to go entirely into it, but it spun me out into a “sweets” shame spiral. A study out of UT-Austin connected binge-watching to not only binge-eating and binge-drinking, but depression and loneliness.
I can honestly say binging on Bloodlines was not done out of depression or loneliness, but because I found it to be a kick-ass thriller. And thank goodness I have solid recovery, because the amount of tequila drunk in this series would cause Don Jose Antonio de Cuervo (Jose Cuervo ) to worship the porcelain gods. For me, it was the suspense, and my natural proclivity towards sweets, that caused the binging. Why would I take time to prepare and eat a healthy meal when I NEED to know what Danny is going to do next, and I bought snacks for my son’s first visit this weekend?
As they say in recovery, everything in moderation. So now that I’ve finished the series, I’ll kill off some calories by making this place teenager friendly for the weekend. Oh, and I’m sure shopping for those snack replacements will kill some calories too.
It may not be NaBloPoMo, although lately it has felt like November. I am again committing to post daily in April through BlogHer. The topic this month is grow – I hope by fertilizing my blog with posts my followship and writing will bloom!
Mike Doughty is a musician in long term recovery. When I was first in recovery, I could not get enough of listening to him, and did not even know he was “like me”- not until the release of his memoir, Book of Drugs.
I also finally watched The Anonymous People this week, which I highly recommend for anyone in recovery or who advocates recovery.