Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Wellness Journal | Stress & Asking For Help
I started my morning with Imagine Dragon's "Radioactive" blaring on my iPhone. I'm zoning out. I do this when I need to think or when I need to feel something other than I'm feeling. It's my therapy sans crappy ass people (also known as mental health professionals) who think they know what's best for you. People like that can get me in trouble. Hell, that's exactly why I'm in the trouble I'm in now.
We saw the movement specialist doctor yesterday and I'm extremely saddened by the appointment. My boyfriend saw the appointment as positive and I just didn't which just begs the question, "How depressed am I?"
At this point, "Superman" by Lazio Bane comes on my iPod. Remember the show Scrubs? Then you'll know exactly what I mean. It's the shuffle on my iTunes and it's the universe reminding me that I'm not alone. I have a wonderful support system. I have friends and I'm in love with a wonderful man.
I tend to think that I'm alone in this life and that I can't depend on anyone but myself which creates resentments that lead to more anxiety. It's time to let go and let the universe do for me. It's time to implore a little faith. Faith in something other than myself. I'm letting go. It's not a choice anymore.
The doctor told me that there's little I can do except take psychiatric meds. I agreed like a good little patient when I was there, but I have to say that I felt so defeated in that room. I felt like this was it for me. I thought that it was just what the universe was bringing my way then I should listen. It's good to listen, to be mindful of the moment. I get that. But when tears flow there's a reason for that, too. At that point the universe is giving me a choice.
Sometimes it will take me a full day to figure out what I need to do. Sometimes it's only minutes. That's best for me because if it's more than a few hours I start getting really sad. I'm sad because I start feeling like there's not another solution. It takes me a while to process my own feelings, but when I get to that point I have to go into my cocoon. I need to be alone. I wanted to be alone yesterday on the hour long ride home from picking up a friend at the airport after my appointment. For hours all I could think about was that I was in a pickle. By the second hour I was freaking out a little bit. I turned on my iPod and tried to zone out and stop thinking about it, but my brain wouldn't let me be.
We finally got home and I thought I would be able to relax, but we realized we were out of marijuana (which is a natural medical necessity for my condition, google it) and then had to go take care of that. I tried to be socialable, but after a while even my laugh sounded fake to me. I had lost the ability to feel joy.
Then everything started annoying the fuck out of me. I got angry. I was angry because I was in this fucking situation in the first place and then everything else annoyed the fuck out of me, too. In one instant I was fucking angry and in the next I was very, very sad.
How had this happened to me AGAIN? What did I ever do to deserve this? I have lived my life as a pretty good person. I'm not perfect. I know I come off like I don't give a shit about people, but that's a defense mechanism because I care more about everyone and everything than probably anyone you would know. I care so goddamn much that it literally hurts me.
I worry constantly about everyone and everything. Everything from I hope that my love's sister is feeling no pain today to wishing that my girls can be as happy as possible even if I'm not with them to feeling pain because I can't be there to hoping they understand someday why I'm doing this. Okay, well, I do think about everyone. Just today because I'm still a little sad I'm wallowing a bit. But how can I not?
Stress is making this disorder worse. I got that from the lady doctor. I got that loud and fucking clear.
When I get like this I have little tricks I learned along my mental healthcare way. This is the way that I cured myself when I was misdiagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and all those pills had poisoned my mind: I listened to a shit load of inspirational music. I have always loaded my music onto my iPod, picked songs and hit shuffle so it would randomly select music in my playlist. I have so many different kinds of music. Everything from Britney Spears to Prince to Enya and everything in-between. So my feeling is that whatever message the universe wants me to hear is the one I'm going to experience this morning.
I also donned a heavy winter coat (at least for Texas) and lay down on the grass and looked up at the dark morning sky. It was quietly beautiful. The sky was a kind of cobalt hue that made me gasp because it was so breathtaking. The moon was a sliver of a crescent and the little dipper was right where I like to see it. It seriously grounded me. I felt rejuvenated. I slowly started letting go of my fears.
I can do this. I can do this without those drugs. I can. I have to be dedicated, but that's where I feel stuck. I need some help. I need help. I hate to even type that. I don't ever like to ask for help. I always want to be a superwoman and do everything myself, but I can't do that anymore. Those ways do not work and they need to be reevaluated.
It's time to remember that there is no box. I'm not thinking outside the box anymore. I'm remembering that that notion is bullshit. There's no fucking box. My mind refuses to be constrained by norms. It's powerful and it's time to use it. It's time to utilize every fucking tissue in my brain. I have to get it fired up. I have to get it fired up. I have to get it fired up…or my soul will die.
So that's where the other part of my plan comes in. I have to be my own holistic coach. I'm eating a clean organic diet. Now I need to add in more. I need to address my mental health with meditation, nature, and living in the moment. I need to ask my friends and family to gently remind me of it so that when I get tired they will lift me up.
I implore the universe...who's going to remind me that I'm not superwoman?