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I Have to Believe

It Will, I Think

I am getting better, guys. I am working through some gnarly shit right now, but I am doing it from a healthier place. A lot of that is because of you. Thanks for staying with me, as ugly as things sometimes get around here. Don’t feel bad for me. I need to do this, and I WILL come out of this stronger and happier. That I promise.

Stories From the Inside of My Head, Pt. 6

(these are excerpts from my journal as I work my
way through treatment for clinical depression)

9/6/11

Today I’m in a Communication class. As the therapist goes over tips for good communication, I see that — at the end of my marriage — my husband (and me, to some extent) failed at every one. I want to cry, and the tears start slipping out. Here are the tips she mentions:

• Don’t let hurts/problems build
• Use skills to head off problems
• End hopeless relationships
• Resolve conflicts before they get overwhelming

I start to wonder how things would have been different had he communicated his issues to me more. Then I realize I can’t get caught up in some stupid game of “what if.” What’s done is done. But it still hurts. Wow. That was a tough one. Next we move on to passive and aggressive behavior (not passive-aggressive). We choose passive behavior to keep ourselves safe. Usually, we end up feeling used and resentful. We choose aggressive behavior to maintain control. Aggressive behavior doesn’t necessarily mean violent, although it certainly can include that. We take a little self-test to see if we have mostly passive or mostly aggressive behaviors. I come out nearly 50/50. My passive behaviors come from a place of wanting security, which is pretty obvious. But I see that my aggressive behaviors come from fear of losing someone, even if that someone is undeserving of me in the first place. To me, losing someone means I’m worthless. It always comes back to this. I must BREAK THIS THOUGHT.

9/7/11

Now we’re getting into the nitty gritty, dirty, I-don’t-want-to-think-about-this-shit part of therapy. Today I’m in Trauma class, and we’re talking about our childhoods. One thing that keeps coming up in our small group is the issue of control. We all agree that when we can’t control the outcome of something, we end up feeling shame — like we are small and young again, with that thought, “If only I can control all this, nothing bad will ever happen.”

We talk about regret. Shame. Forgiveness. That you must forgive yourself for feeling shame. We end the class with a centering meditation that helps us all from wobbling out of there on unsteady legs.

9/21/11

I have more to write about Trauma, but for now I’m just going to share some words I jotted down yesterday while I was feeling quite down.

Today

I am tired of being in pain, mental anguish, fear of getting worse, fear of getting better.

I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know that anyone outside of this room knows what it was like inside my head.

It was terrifying being in there.

My brain was lying to me, telling me things like I wasn’t good enough to…be.

I wish many things, but never would I wish this on anyone.

I’m Still Here

I know I haven’t written much lately. I’m still around…still in treatment. I’m still journalling. I intend to put some more up here if you’re interested in reading it.

Wow

Looking through some old emails and Facebook settings and realizing at the heights of my depression, I don’t even remember some of the things I did. It’s very unsettling, yet I know it’s my brain trying to protect me.

Stories From the Inside of My Head, Pt. 5

(these are excerpts from my journal as I work my
way through treatment for clinical depression)

8/12/11

My positive affirmation for today is “I can handle anything that comes.” I keep silently repeating it to myself. It’s kind of neat, the way it’s occupying my brain. We talk about anxiety and hypervigilance. People like me feel we need to keep control or something will go wrong. This stems from the fact that in our past something went terribly wrong and we could not control it. We did this to survive. But then it became a habit, and here we are. A habit I need to break.

8/15/11

Today I met with my therapist. I told her my goal is to be able to talk about my feelings without crying. Today I feel fragile and this place is actually starting to make me feel safer. Just as my mother needs to go through rehab and therapy to regain strength, so do I. Another goal? I want to feel worthy of respect and treat myself accordingly.

I feel like I’ve lost the past two years of my life. It started with my divorce, and I think I’ve been living in the aftermath of all the bullshit that went around that. Aside from roller derby, I feel like I keep trying to crawl out of a hole, but someone keeps throwing dirt on top of me.

8/16/11

Today I’m taking the Mindshift class again. Here’s what I learn. Distance from emotional turmoil gives you perspective. How do you create that space, that distance, within yourself? I need to figure out how to take a negative emotion, take it outside of myself, observe it, and gain that perspective. If you can IDENTIFY a thought, you can CHALLENGE it.

In another class, I am completely impatient. I feel like everyone is moving in slow motion, not thinking clearly, and the other ones that aren’t won’t shut the f*ck up. Ugh.

8/18/11

In Coping With Anxiety class, an older gentlemen tells me he’s pretty sure he knows me from the last time he was in drug rehab. Erm, nope.

Wanna see how anxiety works?

Trigger Event >> Thoughts >> Physical Response >>
Emotional Response >> Behavioral Response

It doesn’t seem that scary when you break it down like that.

I see I’ve written in my notebook, in bold, circled and underlined letters: “Why? Why me? Because LIFE IS RANDOM, that’s why.” Pretty much, eh?

Also make a small yet interesting breakthrough. I am being triggered by the paper towel dispenser in the ladies room. I KNOW. But it is automatic and makes the same exact noise as the one that was in my hospital room. Every time I hear it, I think about being in the hospital, hooked up to all those IVs and barely being able to walk from being in so much pain. I’m told to be more mindful when I enter the restroom — to understand I am not in the hospital anymore. I go in and tell myself, “I’m in the building’s ladies room. The walls are pink. There are two sinks. Two stalls,” etc. etc. Interesting.

More to come.

And Just as Quickly as It Came, It Disappeared

I have completely lost all my progress. I don’t want to talk about the circumstances. But everything has come undone. I am back where I started, but I think I’m worse.

Last week this girl in group started sobbing, saying, “I’ve spent months here trying to learn that I am not a worthless person, and in one fell swoop, someone told me I was. What do you do when someone validates your worst fear about yourself?”

Now I know how she felt. Why do we let people affect us so deeply? How do they end up in our heads? How do you keep them out? I don’t know.

*** EDITED *** Thanks, all. I feel sooooo much better today. I was on some serious sleep deprivation the other night and everything just spiraled. After some sleep and the great news that Mom is coming home this weekend, I am pulling myself out of the hole and blinking in the sun. I’m planning to talk to my shrink today. I love you all from the bottom of my crazy stupid heart.