Homework

I finished my homework for tomorrow: four hand-written pages of memories from last summer. I hand write it to make it more personal and immediate. For some reason, while I can write faster using a keyboard, I feel a distance between me and what I write. I am also more prone to edit as I write when I'm on a keyboard. I'll have to address this when I begin writing my own stuff again; I don't want to be distant from that.

In case you're wondering, I wrote about the end of Mom's radiation through her first fall --- a total of 2-3 weeks. I am constantly surprised at the amount of information I can bring up when I am writing about it. There is a lot of worry and fear in this part of the story. We were both still hopeful and optimistic at this point.

There is less than four weeks from the end of this week's homework until Mom died. I want to make that homework end the Sunday before an appointment, not on a week I don't have an appointment. It's going to be hard.

I've been thinking about the anniversary of Mom's death. I don't want to just hang out alone in my apartment here. I think that would be very bad. A friend suggested I do a peaceful ritual, which sounds nice. But I think I also need some people for the rest of the time around it, to help me not completely drown in grief. I'm just not sure what. I used to be a very decisive person.

So accomplishments today. Not too bad. And leaves me in an emotionally vulnerable place, just right for therapy tomorrow. Sigh. Yippee.

I had a great post today

I had this great post, suggested by Sierra. Unfortunately, I had a very late dinner because I'd been so tired beforehand. Then I talked for a long time over IM. I started, but one of the press releases came back for revisions. Then a friend who really needed to talk called and we never talk for less than an hour (72 minutes this time). The press release came back with a different set of revisions. The other release came in for first review.

And supposedly all this was going to go out the 1st. Then the 2nd. Obviously we've missed the 3rd and the 4th was The Date to Hit. If so, it will be late on the 4th. Especially because I am exhausted and the two women sending me stuff live on the West Coast, 2 hours behind me. They are still active and almost perky, I'm sure. So I'm sending them email that I'm asleep.

Then, instead of a blog post, I'm writing an excuse. And I keep nodding off and my eyes are crossing. A good sign I'm out of it.

That is why I'm not writing a blog post. But at least I'm ahead of the game for tomorrow!

OMG! I DID STUFF!!!!

It's entirely appropriate language and punctuation to use.

Today was a typical Sunday. I stayed up until almost 3 am because I couldn't sleep; finally took a pill. Then I woke up at 11 am.  At least I slept for 8 hours, which is good for you, right?

I dawdled, knowing I had so much work to do that I'd put off since Friday (down heah in the South, folks take Good Friday off, including school and gov'mint offices, y'all). Almost all of what I had to do was work-related — a press release I'll get paid for as the contract progresses, and the work samples for the potential contract, plus updating my professional web site.  I also have my therapy homework. I just couldn't start.

I wrote emails. I checked blogs repetitively. I drank two large mugs of tea.

Finally, I ran out of ways to delay myself and I started. Nothing like a tight deadline to motivate one! And then something weird happened. I. Got. Productive.

Here's the list of what I accomplished today:

• edited a press release
• added 6 or 7 PDFs to my portfolio on my computer
• added the same 6 or 7 PDFs to my web site area
• updated my web site: made minor changes to 5 pages, major changes to 2, added 13 or 14 new pages, included all the correct links (and tested and tested), tested and fixed some more (uploaded and tested and fixed and uploaded)
• via email, asked for testimonials/recommendations (from probably 7 people) that I can post on my web site (have received 4 yeses and no noes)
• swept the deck, including the deck chairs and around the door
• took took the two large boxes that have been lingering in the living room out to the storage closet on the deck
• paid a bill
• boiled some eggs
• ate some eggs for dinner when I realized it was almost 8 pm

In between were at least 30 texts with friends.

I guess the drugs have kicked in.

"I had a good day," she said with surprise in her voice.

The day was sunny, but the sunshine is not the reason I had a good day. I held few expectations for myself — just a small list of things that must be done —, but keeping my expectations reasonable was not why I had a good day. My period hit flood stage, which is definitely not why I had a good day.

The day was sunny; I accomplished all my tasks; my period almost I survived being away from home for over three hours with a heavy period; I bought a few snacks and ate all of them (two steps forward, one step back); my brain whirred — the  title for this post came to me, I imagined a potential title and signature graphic for another blog if I choose to illustrate and sell greeting cards and other of my works, and ... I should use my digital recorder in the car because I have forgotten for the moment; my body sucked in the heat and the Vitamin D; I posted comments on blogs, I read blogs, I emailed, FBed, and Tweeted with friends; many ideas for all the writing aspects of my life ran in rivulets through my brain, just behind my eyes (where they are running now, like visual music tracks in color and motion).

None of these things is the reason I had a good day. Not one single thing made me feel better — it was the gestalt of all of them combined that lifted my spirits and the corners of my lips. On my mood spreadsheet for today, I will actually go positive on my Depressed/Happy axis. (Yes, I do keep a spreadsheet of my moods and any typical things that might have an influence on them. Then I create charts to see if there are obvious relationships. Thank Gates for something useful!)

I feel potentially productive. What this means is that my mind is churning on all the projects that I have to do and all the projects that I want to do. I can see them and hear them and feel them. (This may be my own form of synesthesia.) 

Tangent — A previous therapist of mine was quite concerned that I was wasting too much of my energy on a fantasy life I imagined every day. Finally I told her all about it, in the same amount of detail that I used in imagining this life and she was astounded. "I understand now," she said. "This is why you need to leave, to go somewhere more stimulating. If you can run your normal life and a whole yet imaginary life, your mind isn't getting anything close to the amount of stimulation and outlet that it needs." Which was entirely true, and which has continued to be true off and on — few jobs can occupy my mind fully for any great length of time. I get bored and wander off to something else. At least I give two weeks' notice before wandering off.

What this tangent means is that my mind was more awake today, more alive, and thus able to begin creating and reaching out for what it needs.

I endeavor to avoid becoming too excited over singular positive changes — they are too easily overset. I will save my excitation for an actual upward trend. (But I will continue to feel optimistic!)

Out

I left the apartment today for something other than a medical appointment. I had to meet some people about working for them (which makes me feel like celebrating), and it took several hours, including travel time. (I need to look into what this year's IRs deduction is for mileage, given how high gas is and continues to become.)

All of this being away from home has exhausted me — one of those special effects of being an introvert, or as my therapist called me, an extreme introvert. I have many projects to do and I have to begin them immediately. I hope this need for quick work will keep me up and going.

I have begun to feel a bit better. This mood lift could be due to the sunshine we've had the last 2 days; it could be due to an uplift in my mood cycle. I kind of don't care, but I need to know so I can handle things better in the future.

And now that I am exhausted, I am going to bed. But at least I wrote another meaningful post. I need to write the details of the trauma work soon. You might find it interesting.

Hypothetically Positive

One of my past therapists suggested a behavioral way to affect my mood when I am depressed. There is a corresponding cognitive aspect, as well.

When I was feeling down (and at the time, it was always), I was to smile, to make sure my posture was good --- shoulders back, head up --- and pick up my feet when I walked, rather than letting them kind of shuffle. These are behaviors most of us have when we feel positive and cheerful. (And I do find that when I am feeling most depressed or anxious, my head is bent way down, I look at the ground, and it requires much effort to not only bring my head up, but to keep it up.)

Cognitively, I was to consciously make positive statements to myself. If I found myself making a negative statement (I'm such a clutz!), I was to find a way to state it more positively (I may not be a ballet dancer, but I can get where I'm going!). These may not be the best examples, but I'm having difficulties making positive statements out of negatives right now, which is weird because I had a fairly good day. Except for eating all that chocolate. Why do I even buy it?

A friend of mine has been working on changing her mindset to a more positive one, and she says it seems to be working. I vaguely remember it working for me in the past. Therefore, I'm going to work on it. 

A sample of negatives I want to make more positive:

• I have no control over my eating and can't stop eating all the sweets in the house.
• I'm fat, and I'm stupid for not doing what I need to do to get healthier.
• I'll be alone and lonely forever.
• I'm lazy and I'll never find new work and I'll always be poor.
• I never pay my bills on time. I'll have bad credit and never be able to buy a house.

Now I'm just depressing myself. If this is what's going on inside my head (and there is more), then no wonder I'm a wreck. I need to spend some time thinking about how to reframe/reposition these statements. More fun for me.

I accomplished many things today: I ran errands; I bought some things I needed for the house and for personal needs; I bought an iced tea machine because I just don't make it myself --- this will be a lot easier; that damned candy, some of which is in the fridge, so I didn't eat it all; priced out things I'd like, such as curtain rods for the living room and bedroom and hand mixers; and I just shopped without buying. I saw pillows that would look great in my bedroom. I some perfect ones for the living room. But ... I'm not earning money, so it makes no sense to spend money on non-necessities (the iced tea machine is so a necessity; it's cheaper than buying pre-made tea or soda!). I've been thinking I should consider buying a simple sewing machine so I could make things for the apartment, instead of buying them. Right. Not like me to try to load myself down with too many things to do or think about.

So I will work on being more positive, and I still have my therapy homework to do. 

Is there something in your life that you could frame in a more positive way? Do you want to be more positive? What are your strategies?

Mixed blessings, mixed bag

Today was a good day, in the beginning. I got up before 10 am. The sun was out. I went to my therapy appointment. I went for a walk after, bought groceries. Then I was done. I'd accomplished things successfully. Didn't want to push my luck.

But in therapy we didn't get around to the trauma work. I dislike pauses and I tend to talk too much in therapy, especially when I feel nervous, which can even happen with an established therapist. I think it's when I know there is a challenging topic on the agenda. We did talk about other things, and I told her some stories about childhood, which filled in more of my history. We talked about how I've missed some developmental steps, which leave me having trust issues, clingy-dependency issues, and having very real difficulties relating to people and establishing relationships. Often times it seems I completely miss social cues, or know they are there but do not understand them. I'm not sure if I will ever really learn them, but it would be nice to get better than I am. Or else I'll be stuck having a peer group that tops out at nine years old.

Then came the less than good part. I ate ice cream. A lot of ice cream. My bed is littered with clothing (mostly pants) that is too small for me, because of the 15+ pounds I've put on. In fact, I am eating some ice cream again, late at night, near to bedtime, which is not a good time to eat.

Karen and I talked about my depression, which is something she has difficulty seeing or imagining, because I've been "up" when I've seen her. I explained to her that I'm still riding high from going birding with a good friend, and that I am feeling a little better. But also because I don't like to show negative feelings, even to therapists. I think I've cried maybe a handful of times in front of therapists, in all these many years (decades). My first therapist commented on how I really didn't fit the profile of a depressed person, because I can still get excited about things and occasionally do things.

I'm just being me, the one who doesn't fit any mold.

I have difficulties with vulnerability. I've been trashed so thoroughly by people I've been vulnerable to, since a very early age. And yet, without vulnerability, there can be no deep connection to others, and that's the kind of connections I want. If I appear to need nothing, then people aren't going to feel that I need their friendship. Or, perhaps, that I will have any to offer them.

I became so good at protecting myself and masking my vulnerability that I built an entire world inside myself, with a many-layered fortified castle. With creatures. I could describe it to you, but I won't. I may need it again.

Because being vulnerable is difficult and frightening. I'll need some place to feel safe, when the vulnerability gets me into painful places. Because it always does.

Talking to Strangers

When I was a child, I was amazingly outgoing and would talk to anyone who stood still long enough. I once introduced myself to a new mailman with my name, followed by "and I'm cute!" I knew it was true because everyone told me so.

But my dad was a cop, so he worked hard at teaching us, me especially, not to talk to strangers. Between that, puberty-onset shyness, and my inherent introversion, I became quite good at not talking to strangers. (I could still talk to friends who stood still long enough.)

But now I must talk to strangers if I am to find work and/or develop my own business. I must talk to strangers if I am to make new friends. And while some of my abilities and issues have changed, and my meds have had an effect, it's not always enough to make talking to strangers anything close to easy. And now that the meds aren't doing their job, such speech is very, very far from easy.

Tonight, my mind and body are buzzing as if filled with a hive of mad bees. I attended a professional meeting and spoke not only to individual strangers but to an entire group of them when I announced needing volunteers for a project I'm working on. I had met a few of these people before, but could only count two as people who knew my name. The food was well-balanced (and tasty!), so I cannot blame blood sugar. And the buzzy, vibrating feeling began before I entered my car for the long drive home. (And I don't have a sex toy in my pocket, although that might be a useful idea to help me come down from this feeling!)

I think it's nerves, both the anxiety kind and, probably in reaction, the neurological kind, given that I do have some neurological issues, too.

I can't go to sleep while I feel like this. Caffeine is useful and easy for perking up. What drink is useful and easy for perking down?

What would work, and has worked in the past, would be slow, comfortable conversation with a loved one. (Well, slow comfortable something else with a special loved one would work, too.) However, that is not an option at this moment, so instead I must contemplate warm milk.

If only there weren't so damned many strangers that I have to talk to!

Late Already

Well, I haven't started my therapy homework yet and it's almost bedtime. Is the procrastination due to my discomfort with the coming work, the trauma issues that keep me from doing anything, or just plain simple procrastination, if there is such a thing?

Sometimes I wonder if there is any such thing as plain and simple. But I'll visit simplicity in another post.

Not only do I want to work on my homework in a timely manner, I want to write blog posts as often as possible. Join the "blog every day" club, y'know? Besides, even if I don't get the accountability thing due to not advertising widely (I can't decide if I want to come out even semi-anonymously on too many of the blogs I frequent. There are potential issues there, too. I'll take suggestions and opinions under advisement.)

The weather was quite good today after dark and rain yesterday, and sunshine always raises my mood. I accomplished some work and some study toward other skills I intend to add to my bag of tricks. Of course, doing well today could end up making me hunker down tomorrow; it would be in pattern for me.

I've gotten pretty bad at going to bed at a reasonable time, which in turn causes me to sleep until an unreasonable time. Getting up at 10 or later really messes me up, because I'm not a night person. Even if I stay up too late.

I'm late on my bills, all of the ones I'm responsible for. I'm late looking for a psychiatrist to handle my medications. I'm late booking the last couple of appointments of physical therapy. And it's been two years since my last physical, and two and a half since my last mammogram. Oh yeah, and this year I get to start that whole colonoscopy thing. I think. I'm sure my doctor will let me know. Hooray.

On another topic, completely without segue, I think I have a strong "voice" in my writing, whether it be fiction or non. That, in itself, will probably give me away. Readers, what do you think? Is my voice identifiable? It's not as if I can perceive it. Inside my head, my voice is always the same, unless I've been reading too much of one kind of fiction. I have been known to think in "thee" and "thou," or in Victorian speech patterns.

Well, I think this is enough for the evening. This makes two in a row! ::much whistling and cheering ensues::

Good night.