unreasonably rational

I am hesitant to say it, as if saying it will somehow trap me in the "I don't need help" chategory when I will in fact need help. But I'm doing better. I no longer wish to be dead. I no longer pray for death. Etc. Etc. Instead, I ponder it. How come I don't want to be dead today? Huh, I don't know. Nothing much has changed, except, I suppose, the chemicals in my brain. Praise God for medication and/or whatever brought about this astounding change. It's amazing. The whole thing is. Wanting to die (duh, who wouldn't?) though my sister couldn't even immagine such a state of mind. Taking the thoughts for granted because they were around so often. It was just my life. I spent each day with the nobel and challenging goal of living until the next day, at which point the process would be repeated, and I'd live another day to get to the day after. Admittedly, it was exhausting. And now, just as wishing to be dead was just a part of life, not wishing it ...

Christmas is passed for another year. Last year I helped with the Christmas tree and enjoyed a day of cleaning house and watching a movie. This year... I avoided the tree, I went to church in the morning, and I pretended it wasn't Christmas in the afternoon, but still went to a movie. Sunday morning was hard, but I thought to myself, this is how it used to be every Sunday and now it's only some Sundays. That's progress. The whole "Merry Christmas" wish still seems out of place for me this year. I can wish other people a Merry Christmas, but for them to wish it to me? Just not quite right. But they don't know that, so I'll try not to hold it against them. :) I came up with an alternative Christmas day wish for people with mental illness who have trouble with Christmas and for anybody who has trouble with Christmas. "May you have a day with as few moments of distress as possible and may you continue to tomorrow..." I was the only one who wished i...

The day started out pretty good. I got some good laughing time with my little kids. Then I got told of a "better" way to run my classroom, and my mood started sliding downhill. Then I did not volunteer to help with something. I feel guilty about it, but also angry. Angry that something is wanted from me that I am unwilling to give. Alas, my negative emotions are having a hey day. I'm trying to not get too riled up and to wait until I see my counselor tomorrow. Then I had a doctor's appointment. This doctor can be Doctor H, as in hemotologist. I think he's into oncology as well. Anyway, last time I saw him, he said I looked quite healthy and as long as my other blood counts were normal, they should be able to just watch me instead of needing to do a bone marrow test. So this time, I came confidently, thinking that he would deliver the great news that I was basically fine. Instead, I come in and am given a slip of stickers. I go to see the nurse, not quite sure wh...

Today, I had trouble getting out of bed in the morning. I wondered, is that because of depression and anxiety, or am I using that as an excuse? I was kind of thinking it was both, and eventually made myself get up and eat breakfast. Then I watched a movie. Once I got far enough in, it did distract me, but at first, the anxiety was still having a heyday. It was being really absurd. "You might not sew that right." And there I paused in indecision, which was rather ridiculous since I was determined to finish making this handbag, and I wasn't even demanding that it turn out perfect. Finally I just dove in. It is definitely not perfect. No worry there, but it is turning out fairly similar to how I intended (but a little bit smaller). The upcoming travel involving my leaving my "safe" (-ish) home state where I have multiple friends and where I have my psychiatrist and therapist (well, they are technically in another state, but close by), this trip is getting great...

Possibly, I should exercise, but I might not, because I have a cold. And such an excuse should be useful for something even though I'm still going to work. I am perfecting my ability to make decoration handprints with toddlers' hands. Perhaps perfecting is the wrong word, considering how a few of them turned out. Note to teachers of one-year-olds: some one-year-olds may close their fingers with paint on them. If your hand print is just one color, it's not too much of a problem if you don't mind getting your hands painty when you open their hand up to print on the paper. Oh, then you have to be careful to keep your painty hands from adding prints to their paper. Or just buy "correction fluid" to cover it up (I did a very little bit of research and this appears to be the non-name-brand term). I think that's the best plan. If, however, you are doing one of those cool, multicolored handprints that are supposed to look like something else, beware. I tried bl...

To the person who asked in a comment on someone else's blog about exercise; I like to exercise enough that the doctors and therapists and well-meaning people can't blame my depression on lack of exercise. I'm pretty sure it helps me feel better, especially when it is exercise that I enjoy. But even if it doesn't change how I feel, it rules out a possible cause of my depression, which is enough of a reason to keep me trying to exercise. (And yes, I still do usually fall short of my exercise goals for the week, despite my good intentions.) To myself, how come I end up writing blog posts when I'm hungry enough to be distracted by it? To whoever wants to read my blog... My driving exposures aren't doing so well. I have trouble standing up to my ocd feelings of danger. I'm hoping not to worry too much about it, though, because I can gather myself up for another attack on the ocd later. I'm getting ready to go on a real, true vacation. I'm going to...

Good news! I've been preventing driving compulsions with some success! Thinking it through yesterday helped me to cognatively assess the situation before I was in the emotional moment. It's going pretty well. I do have to watch out for replacement compulsions (i.e. compulsively checking around my car extra before I drive). Thanksgiving went pretty well this year. I visited my family. I brought sweet potatoes and even my mom liked them (she doesn't like another recipe because it is too sweet for her). And I noticed something new. I already knew that my oldest younger brother likes to play devil's advocate, leading to lively discussions/arguements at the dinner table. What I learned this time was that I played devil's advocate right back at him. He isn't the only one arguing/debating. Myself and other family members participated. And, just like he might do, I argued more because I thought his opponent needed some defending than because I personnally cared alot...

My recent most obvious OCD problem is back to the old driving and harm issue subject. It happens regularly. I get in my car, and look behind me while I back out of my driveway. Thus far, I'm a normal person. Then, I wonder if maybe a neighbor happened to be in my way and got hurt when I backed my car out of the driveway. Then, the "responsible" thing seems to be to check to make sure there are no injured people in the driveway. Cognatively, I realize the very low probability. First, I was looking when I drove, so unless someone was laying right behind my car, I probably would have seen them. Even if they were hidden right behind my car, I probably would have seen them when I approached my car to get in. And then, even if my eyes failed me, I would have felt something if the car had hit anything. I know the sound of the car brushing into plants on the side of the road (leaving them unharmed) (I used to live in the country). So it is pretty sensible that if there had be...

I worked this morning, of course. It went okay. Then I went home with a headache. On my way home, I got to drive the interstate at 4 miles per hour. That was interesting, in a fairly boring sort of way. After lunch, I planned to take a nap, but my landlord showed up with an electrician to fix our heat in the livingroom and kitchen. He was pretty fast, but it still delayed my nap. Then, for my nap, I didn't fall asleep, but I rested, so that's okay. Now I just turned in my homework for the week (due today). We were given a free pass to skip one week's assignment without loosing any points, and I actually used it today. I'm a little surprised that I actually used it. And I'm a little disappointed that I used it. And I am sufficiently glad that I used it. Takes a bit of stress off. I was too far behind this week... (thanks to the paperback novels I read, etc.) Now Thanksgiving approaches. I don't think I want a four day weekend, but it isn't really my cho...

I just ate my whole post up by pressing the wrong button at the right time, or however you are supposed to put that. Two wrongs? One right and one wrong? One wrong and one right? Either way, bye-bye nice, thoughtful, disconnected, entertaining to me, etc., post. Now, can I write it in fewer words, and cut out the I'm-hungry-and-need-to-eat-soon comments? (I mean, cut them down, not out, since I just put one there.) From both my counselor and my psychiatrist (whom I both saw yesterday), I was reminded that my anxious thoughts actually are emotionally taxing. I forget that sometimes. They are just my normal thoughts. Also, I know some of the thoughts are quite disconnected from reality, so since they aren't valid (as in, aren't realistic), I assume they don't cost me emotionally what they would if they were factual. And maybe they don't, but they still might scare me/ weigh on me more than I think they do. The other big thing I came away with was that when my coun...

Friday night, I stayed up late, eating dinner with my family and a friend after 9 in the evening. It was exciting in that it's the latest I've been out socializing in a long time, but the after effects weren't quite so nice. Saturday, I slept until 12:23 early afternoon. This wouldn't be so sad except that it starts to get dark before 4pm. Too little sunshine. But I made it through Saturday okay. Then came Sunday. I, not surprisingly, slept in, missing Sunday school. I did manage to get to church on time, but I'd call that a miracle. I dislike these moods. I suppose I've had them most of my life, but being aware of my mood now, they are annoying. What would I call it? Feeling at odds with the world? It is interesting to realize that I've been effectively cutting myself off from people, slowly and steadily. Not completely, but still, it's been happening. When I go to the gym to exercise, I sometimes work hard to avoid contact with people I know because ...

My week has been going fairly well. Improved mood is definately nice. My homework has been going fairly unwell. Will I pull through in time and still turn in all my homework? Today I saw my counselor again. Most of that even went okay. It wasn't until I thought about a current social situaion that's giving me troubles that I started feeling too upset... Of course, that was in the last three minutes, so nothing was solved with that. Sometimes I wonder why I go to counseling? What is it I get out of it? I like starting the hour, but I don't like finishing the hour. Oh, well, the likes seem worth the dislikes. I want to sound really profound or witty or something right now, but really, my brain's feeling blocked. Why? Schoolwork undone? Social situation decision unmade? Concern about the future? Plain old depression? Plain new anemia? Does it even matter why? (Well, maybe determining why, I could get rid of it.) Oh, well. That's enough for now.

I've been doing a bit better. My counselor suddenly started thinking my depression thought sounded like an OCD thought, so maybe I should treat it differently. I told her I thought it was a depression-OCD hybrid. And she asked if I was kidding. No, I was quite serious. I still think that. Anyway, I settled on a shorter response to my thought. Just, "no." Usually that helps. But still, if my emotions get riled up too high, I still have trouble. It's funny, but I'm afraid of getting better. I feel like if I find something that works (like answering "no") that it just proves what a jerk I've been being about this whole OCD depression stuff. Suddenly, it is "proven" to me that it really was all my fault, and if I'd just said "no" a year ago, I'd have gotten better then. And then, delaying healing by being afraid of it... that's me again, too. But I'm thinking I can (as in "should" - it wouldn't come e...

Well, my research was enough to convince me to follow the Doctor's recommendations, so on to more medical bills trying to find out what's going on with the anemia. I get a day off work out of it (no pay, of course; one of the characteristics of my line of work in my part of the country). Have you ever seen people's sympathetic/pittying looks when you talk to them about your mental illness or some time after that? I'm not too good at accepting that. Not that said people ever know, but I think (or even say), "hey, it's my life." I don't want too much pitty, nor too much of people feeling sorry for me; this is my life; I gotta deal with it, so pray for me, talk to me, but don't look at me like my world is falling apart. Because it isn't. Even if I tell you about my really depressing thoughts, my world actually still is not falling apart. And even if my world is falling apart, it's still my world; a falling-apart kind of world. And, I don...

I'm tired, and this time I have an excuse. (I mean, beyond such obvious reasons as depression, anxiety, and less than peaceful sleep last night.) I'm still mildly anemic. I started looking up online what that might be. I was thus assured that it could be serious and scarey or depressing, so I quit looking. But not before gleaning enough info to start worrying about my spleen. Now my side hurts. The correct side (I think?), but in two different places, as if to make sure the spleen area is hurting even though I don't exactly know where it is. How amusing (seriously).

I'm using up time. On purpose. There was a time when I thought time was practically worth money. Now I spend money to get through the time. Because I'm not worried about the time or the money (false: I'm worried about too little money and too much time). My main goal is not to give in to the latest, greatest (more than a year old) depression thought. Sometimes I wish I could pull out the thought and put it on the floor and stomp on it, or something like that. Wish I could. But, as I told someone yesterday, this is my life [right now]. And, as I agreed with someone else, I'm hangin' in there. I don't like Halloween. Because my depression is particularly intrusive on this day. And because I'm scared of some costumed teenagers "trick"ing me. The darkness at "trickortreat" time doesn't help. Probably the fact that my family hid from the trickortreaters doesn't help either. We used to celebrate Reformation Day on this day, in honor...

The academic honesty policy was sent to all the students at my college. No big deal, right? I'm a diligent, honest student. With OCD. So then the what if-ing starts. What if I accidentally plagiarise and am kicked out of college! (Worst case scenario following the "what-if.") The associated ritual is very detailed and precise, but still won't guarantee that I haven't accidentally copied words that exist somewhere in the world. I know this might seem silly to some people, but it's OCD, so why be surprised at it's unlikeliness? First, I can worry. As if worrying about it will change anything. Then, I ponder sentences and wonder, did I hear this before? Over and over. One time (different college) I used one of those internet plagiarism catchers. It passed over the sentences I thought sounded "suspicious" and questioned phrases I was pretty sure were mine. I ended up crying in the writing lab, with a poor English teacher who had explained the ...

I now know why I shouldn't sleep thirteen and a half hours and then eat an inferior breakfast to my normal breakfast (the granola was gone and I didn't want oatmeal, so I came up with something else): the end result is me feeling exhausted. Of course, I'm not really repentful; that's thirteen and a half hours when I didn't have to think! The day is successfully shortened. The only problem is that now I feel like taking a nap (two hours after waking up).

Today I saw my counselor. It was nice. But I left wanting to cry. Which is a risk when I let myself express feelings and thoughts I usually try to push away. I had two good days in a row, and then came a grumpy morning. Work didn't change that. I even went to an exercise class. Afterwards, a nice older lady mentioned how it was so fun, didn't I think so? And I didn't really agree. But I explained, I'm just having a grumpy day. She responded, didn't the exercise class take away my grumpiness? And I answered, no. The poor lady looked a bit concerned and said, God's blessings on you. And I thanked her. If I'd been in her shoes, I might have said that. And also, I could really use some more of God's blessings. Back to today. I learned that comparing myself to others in depression recovery is as unhelpful as comparing myself to others who share my spiritual beliefs. Other people seem to be doing better than me. And I'm not extremely sick , well, not i...

Knowing some friends who keep their mascara until it is gone... I used it last week after letting it sit unused for possibly up to a year, probably a little under that. Now I have an itchy eye. Add OCD. "My eye itches. Maybe it is serious. Maybe it's not. Maybe I shouldn't work. Maybe I should work. It doesn't look that pink. But it does look a little pink. And it itches, since I'm thinking about it. Let's try to think about something else... it still itches.... and still itches.... it doesn't feel right..." And on and on and on. I'm thinking the fluvoxamine that I've been tapering off of is loosing its control on my OCD. There is another reason I think this. I have a particular OCD issue that really bothered me at work. I couldn't figure out how to get around it, because it just seemed to wrong not to follow my compulsions. (This is my reigning OCD symptom.) Then, after taking the fluvoxamine and getting more depressed... suddenly this o...

Even Mr. Psychiatrist thought that working on Saturdays, too, would be too much for me right now. I thought so. My counselor agreed. And so did Mr. Psychiatrist. So I don't feel so lazy. Well, in that particular circumstance. Last night I slept about 11 hours. I went to bed early because I didn't want to deal with my brain any longer. (I wasn't able to sleep early; I got some coloring done in a kids coloring book among other things.) Today it was nasty trying to get up. Basicly, I'm afraid that the short term results of doubling my antidepressant is greater depression. :( Is that just because it makes me more tired? Is it really because it's the weekend and has nothing to do with the antidepressant? Is it because my cold is still hanging on a bit? It isn't because of an antibiotic, because I'm not on one. Anyway, I've got some schoolwork to do. That should help me for a few minutes.

I realize that I have already written today. But this time I'm experimenting with the whole "think positive thoughts" advice. I will try to write a positive entry and see if it helps my mood. I like: Toddler art, especially finger painting with multiple colors. Sarcastic humor (but not just any sarcastic humor) Blogging Talking to my guinnea pig Watching movies at home Studying phonetics and transcribing into IPA font - i.e. specific symbols for each sound, not necessarily the same as how we would write in English. The book, "We're Going on a Bear Hunt" by Michael Rosen Trying to think of art activities for my toddlers to do based on this new "bear" theme Singing with the "big" (3 to 5 year old) kids A toddler's smile when their face lights up Music (well, many kinds of music) Being able to drive and having a car that works Computers that I can use at the library Eating supper with friends Dancing (again, certain kind...

I went to the doctor. I don't feel good. But so far, it is probably just a virus, a head cold. Yuck. We wont call it a bacteria until Friday, if it is still this bad. What? Feel this bad through the whole week? How am I gonna work? I'm just so tired. But maybe that is depression after all. Yuck. Let me just say that adding to sleep-twelve-hours-a-day depression some school stress and feeling sick with no immediate cure, and, well, the depression isn't very happy (or it is very happy? Does it like it when I'm depressed? No, I prefer the medical view of depression, remember? Depression, you are a medical problem. Oh, won't you please please please respond to medication???). Now I am chatty and depressed. Oh, great.

Saturday has arrived. My sore throat got worse. What shall we blame it on? Or shall I leave it a symptom with unknown cause? That sounds good. No, I want to blame it on allergies that I may or maynot have. That way I'm neither a walking germ machine nor having a dangerous reaction to something. Today my wish was to sleep most of the day. But I had schoolwork, so I only slept part of the day. I did make it to the exercise class I was planning to attend. But I thought I wanted to sleep after that. To me, the sleepy thing is a slightly less annoying symptom of depression than what I could be having. Of course, schoolwork brought out the worse parts. Why? Why, why, why? I suspect I should be writing part of a paper. I really don't want to. My throat hurts and I want to sleep. Maybe it is a virus, letting me justify 16 hours of sleep in one day. Why not? (Other than my counselor telling me not to. I guess that's a compelling reason not to.) Okay, let's go look at resea...

When I learned about numbers of words, I started counting the number of words or meaningful word parts (morphemes) that "my" kids said. "I jumping" would be three morphemes. And "ing" has grammatical meaning (I think it belongs in a category with a special name which I don't remember right now). Now, with the grammar class, my evaluation changes. So-and-so used "but" to connect two sentences; great conjunction usage! That child used a preposition. Oh, what fun. Aren't you jealous. Here is my short complaint about my college education (it comes up every once and awhile). Sometimes questions give away other questions' answers. When I get those right, it may not mean that I understand the material. It might only mean that I'm good with test-taking logic. Here is my second short complaint. Why do I get such high scores without working so hard for them (except for the defeat-the-depression-enough-to-do-a-little-schoolwork work, w...

Earlier this week (last week, technically), I was having a pretty hard time, so I called some people from my church. Today, I felt a little awkward knowing these people had seen me at my worst, or at least not at my best. But nothing too unnerving actually happened. In Sunday school, I decided to actually claim depression instead of "a health issue" when asking for prayer. That was scary, too. But I'm glad I did it. How will people be open about mental illness if no-one speaks first or earlier on? Maybe I have more to do with the perceived stigma than the people around me. Maybe being a little more open will let other people be a little more open, too. And, of course, there is the other factors involved for me, like really wanting prayer and having been with this group of people for a while and trusting them. Last weekend was hard, so I, with my great cognitive reasoning, am afraid of this weekend and Monday. But this week isn't last week. I'm sleeping more no...

I've continued doing better, except for the time when my depression made a fine showing last night. Kind of reminds me that I'm actually not okay, even though I can sometimes cover over the worst of the depression and have a somewhat good mood. I hate feeling so deep in depression. I sometimes dislike pitying looks. I sometimes dislike advise. I like sharing, but find it hard to share. Questions are easier, but I don't have questions (except for the psych dr. and my therapist). It's just a painful reality. Really, I like it when people are there for me. When they spend time with me. They might not know that that is what I want. Maybe they think they should fix it (despite the facts that my therapist and psych. dr. have not been able to "fix it" despite their professional positions). But I know there isn't any answer right now. Sure, an answer would be nice, but so would winning a million dollars (actually, I don't think that would be so nice). So I...

Sunday and Monday I fell apart right on schedule. Monday, I talked to my dr. He added back in a med that helps me sleep. What a difference sleep made, with the addition of a short day of work followed by some good relaxing time. Now I'm back to coping. A little scared still, but I have more room for error again. It is neat how God puts people in my life who somehow help me on my worst days (not the same as the days I think are my worst until the next one comes). I got to talk to people I usually wouldn't even initiate contact with. It was nice talking to them. Yesterday, I spent a while painting and coloring. It was quite peaceful. And I took a walk. Also nice. Except for the weird planes that flew over that looked scary and made scary sounds. I still have that fear. But if I don't look and do plug my ears, I'm not so scared (and a little embarrassed to be caught plugging my ears in public). So anyway, I'm doing a bit better now. And that's very nice.

Last week, when I worked in the kitchen at camp, I enjoyed myself more because I was able to forget OCD triggers. Not so this morning. In fact, I could remember some of what was contaminated  a week ago  when I worked there. You know germs; we gotta be careful. I was, however, able to give one up when slicing cucombers on a cutting board that didn't meet my ocd standards of clean. But I knew ocd could never be satisfied. I was afraid there wasn't even one cutting board that would meet my ocd standards. That or it was too embarising to think of putting cutting board after cutting board into the dirty dishes. I worked in the kitchen at camp when I was just out of highschool. My boss said that she was glad I had a little ocd perfectionism in the kitchen because it meant things got more clean. I'm pretty sure she didn't know the distress that accompanies ocd. I am somewhat amazed that I got through that summer as well as I did. Anyway, I don't know if the ocd can ...

I didn't make up the "I started twitching more when I stopped the medication" thing. The Dr. said that sometimes happens. It has a nice long name. That I can now claim, in the past tense, which is okay, since it is passed, and since it wasn't too bad in my case. I got really anxious about visiting the Doctor. In my mind, I immagined what would happen, and I didn't like what I immagined. As is not unusual, my feared events didn't happen. So I'm breathing many sighs of relief. And filling a prescription for yet another antidepressant. Oh, please, God, let it be effective and inexpensive. I probably wont have insurance forever. At least when I try a new medication, there is hope that something new and better will happen. So I'm back to hoping. Which, I suppose, means that I should get more serious about my homework. That online group I might have complained about that I became the leader of? I may have started the ball, but they are sure stepping up...

Maybe you should stop reading my posts for a few days. Or maybe I should write cheerfuller posts. Now my concentration has been taken hostage by the depression, so I just don't have a good attention span. My counselor told me to focus on my senses, not on my depression. I.e. the way the keys feel under my fingers, the sound of typing on the keyboard, etc. It works, at least for 20 seconds. Twenty seconds throughout the day would add up to minutes. Good deal, all around. Here is my partial list of good things. Tomorrow I see Mr. Psychiatrist. Yay. Today, I am getting my laundry done (well, most of it). That's good, too. It is already 5 pm. I have two corndogs frozen in my freezer. I have ten icecream bars in my freezer. And 5 bagels. And I have milk and cream cheese. Or, in plain English, I have food that I like at home. I have a guinnea pig. (I think I scared him two days ago trying to get him to reach out of the cage to my hand with a yogurt treat.) I have a tele...

My brain is talking to me. Blah, blah, blah. We'll call it depression, though OCD might have a say as well. I keep talking back. "You think I don't hear you?" "I know! I heard you." And so on and so forth. Meanwhile cue flu-like symptoms of depression/anxiety (minus the throwing up). And cling to hope. I've got a few specks of hope and half a mustard seed of faith. But they are clenched tightly in my hands. Meanwhile, I'm here at the library because I have homework to do. I'd gotten it almost done yesterday, and then mannaged to erase 7/8ths of it. So now I can re-do it, around my brain muttering and my normal procrastination habits. My brain did shut up for me to write this post. Thankyou, brain. I see Mr. Psychiatrist this week. I felt oh so much better getting off of the second atypical antipsychotic. With my usual contradictory enthusiasm, I hoped that meant that the depression would pretty much disappear. No such luck. The weekend came...

I just got part of my homework done. I worked hard on it. It looks pretty good. I feel pretty good. After this, I have more homework to do. Getting off the medication makes it harder to fall asleep (yes, this med was having the opposite effect than expected and made me very tired), but I feel more awake. I feel more alive! I feel better. Praise God. I think I'll go back to homework. Deadlines inspire. I was going to say and forgot to say, my main lesson from counseling today was that I'm "too hard on myself." How to change that is a whole other question. But identifying a problem (again) is a good step. It was a revelation to me that weekends were not my fault.

Combine depression and anxiety with normal procrastination... and schoolwork is a bit tough. Then add a slow computer/internet program. I think I'm doing great one minute with the depression and stuff, and moments later I feel sick and depressed. I don't get it. I'm getting off a medication. Seems that that causes side effects, too.

The weekend has been successfully navigated. I got to babysit, which I enjoyed. Today, I went back to work, and it was the first day of preschool. I don't know what you would call our two-year-old version; Pre-preschool? We sing, we eat snack, we do an art project - or rather, an "open-ended art activity," since I have been indoctrinated by the current teaching at the local community college. Actually, I agree with open-ended art most of the time. Then an active activity, and then back to normal free play. I showed my boss my schedule and she liked it, which made me happy.

I think I'm getting an ear infection (you're surprised, right? :) That is why I should not blow my nose (i.e., so I can get a sinus infection instead?). Maybe it will go away if I ignore it (and take a decongestant). I think I've gotten rid of a few that way. I'm guessing a 50-50 chance either way. School is going better than I expected (except that right now I really want to be doing jumping jacks instead of transcribing the phonetic consonants in a list of 50 words. Yay. (As in, I just did 50 and now I have 50 more.) The whole chatting online with group membors thing is going terribly for me. Yesterday, I couldn't get on at the agreed upon time, and three people met without me. I'd call that a partial success. Today, I can get on, but I'm not finding anyone else. So much for chatting. Let's go for the long, slow discussion process. And guess what else? I think I might end up the leader of the group. I took the position just to get things rolling, bu...

School work has ambushed me. That is why one might want to check what they have to do in a week before taking the holiday off. But really, a day off was nice. And the thing I'm most worried about is the group project, and that doesn't depend only on me. My OCD is behaving itself, well, as well as it does. The depression is being "normal" or a bit worse. I was watching a movie today, "Fathers Day," and haven't finished it. But one character is a bit like me with depression and anxiety. The other character is surprised by him. I forget that my thoughts are unusual. I'm having a pretty good day today, but Sunday I was making it from one activity to the next (not even one day to the next). Admittedly, that was worse for me. But when I told my sister and heard her response, I thought, Oh, that isn't normal thinking. I had kind of forgotten. I had kind of assumed that everyone had bad days like that. But the movie and my sister remind me, no, my thou...

I worked on Saturday dicing tomatos. Throws off my sense of time. And restarted the symptoms I'd blamed on the medication I just got off of. (Shaking, occasional twitches.) Working in a kitchen where I've worked before, for money, for a bunch of people to eat, that is a great OCD invitation. All things considered, I think I did well. Only one extra glove change (I think the other people forgot to notice and there was a "touched which touched which touched" contamination. Hmmm, looks more rediculous when I write it out.) I diced tomatos, as I said (though not the whole time). I had some good self-talk. I'm proud of myself. I would worry about something (not getting it quite right) and then think, do you think other people always get it "right"? It helped to remind myself that the issues I faced were faced by other people (even if they don't realize it). The boss complimented my tomatos, which made me think, oh, no, now I have to live up to that. B...

My teacher thinks that when citing sources, one can't cite too often. She didn't read my first research paper. She probably doesn't know about OCD fears of plagerism.

Hey, let's check it five more times. Since the zeros on the account balance that my eyes saw, well, maybe they were not zeros. Yeah, I looked several times, but maybe I should check it again. Or I could play ERP. "The account balance is really something above zero, and you will be dropped from your classes and blah, blah, blah, it will be very disturbing, and then..." I like making up funny endings, but I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to. "And then..." Somehow, misteriously, this will cause me to be in debt the rest of my life? My depression will strike really hard and I'll end up in the locked part of the hospital again? I'll never get to take classes again? But those don't seem to follow the "reasonable" consequesnces part of what if my fears came true. Really, they sound like fears themselves. More reasonably, I'd get re-signed up and would keep taking my beloved Phonetics and Language Science classes. I love them, so far...

I was doing an online training thing that was supposed to take about 30 minutes. Took me an hour and a half. Like the OCD said, "You can think you've got the best of me, but guess what? I still know how to make some of your schoolwork take three times the length it needs to. I just easily ate up an hour of your time - which re-qualifies you as having clinical OCD just in case you thought you were under-qualified." How have I gotten along up to this point? I have a great memory (which is useful to the OCD). I can learn things the first time around, often. Otherwise, who knows how long I'd spend on schoolwork. Maybe not that long. My brain still has it's limits (attention-wise and motivation-wise). I take this exercise dance class that has almost continuous but slow movement. Only they like to talk about things like freedom. Meanwhile, I feel un-free, un-happy, un-whatever positive emotion I'm supposed to feel. Maybe I'm still a rebel (okay, sometimes I ...

Sometimes I wonder how to keep going. Like this morning at church. Well, if you can't cry at church, (at least silently), then you might want to look for a different one. Actually, I don't really worry about permission; I just figure people should be allowed to cry at church, and I go ahead and cry sometimes. Hopefully in such a way that is not obvious. And then prayer.  This one couple has been around helping me through this mental illness stuff, usually just by talking, praying, and being there , which means alot. Letting me be there with them, which is one of the most helpful things. But the husband is on the prayer team, and I'm not too scared of him, and his wife is my friend, and I went to ask for prayer. The good old, I'm having trouble talking because I'm crying, kind of requesting. It was good, though. He asked somebody else to come, who does another kind of counseling. And this is the neat thing. I thought he'd be judgemental about my being on medica...

According to my counselor, my ocd will continue to pop up at different times, regardless of the state of my depression. I just have to exposure it back into place. So far, that's true. At least with the depression. Handwashing - suddenly the maybe-not-clean-should-wash-now state returns. It must be fooling me, because I let myself wash my hands. And another area, but I'm not willing to give that one back to ocd, so exposures have been lived through. I guess the moral of that story is I've learned more about dealing with ocd, and I have room to improve. But the germs... :). Maybe someone is allergic to the coating of my antidepressant medication, which I touched. So if I go to a picnic without washing my hands, maybe I'll touch their food with the exact spot on my hands that has(?) residue from the coating of the medication, and then they will die. You know, peanut allergy type allergy, except it should probably be a little faster, because even a peanut allergy case mi...

circumstantial happiness; it throws everything off! Well, really, I'll just be thankful for happiness, but whether or not my meds are working right...? It did suddenly occur to me that my knee jerks less often. Maybe getting off Seroquel is good for me. My sleep is unpredictable - except that I can sleep. The quality of the sleep and dreams, that varies. Friday, I decided to enter something in the local fair, so I made a practice edible house. I really enjoyed making it. I'm thinking maybe that helped Saturday's cheerful morning. Yesterday was not fun. But when I made my actual edible house, I enjoyed that. Maybe I should do art more often. Now it's at the fair. Which means that I for sure do want to spend the dollars to go this year (okay, I was already planning on it). Thankfully, entering was free (ignoring the cost of all my ingrediants and an icing tool).

Yesterday was great. Really great. I woke up happy to be alive. Note that amazing sentence. Happy to be alive. Then I cleaned my kitchen, part of my room, and did laundry - all the way to putting my clothes away. It's amazing how much one can do when the depression takes a vacation. I did discover that being actively excited to finally be happy to be alive was still emotionally draining. I also found that I tired more easily than that phantom time when I lived a "normal" life. I went to the NAMI picnic. I ended up playing the guitarist's guitar when he wanted a break. Spontaneity. I like it. Oh, and there was just one person I particularly knew still there then. That helps. And people mostly ignored me. That helped, too. Then I crashed for 30 minutes at home. Then exercised at the gym with a friend. Then went to my dad's b-day party. Stuck my foot in or near my mouth a few times, talked alot (I do, sometimes), ate food, petted the stinky goats - oh, wait, I di...

The psych ward was interesting, because of it's implications. No plastic containers? My therapist's office. Ah, the tears (when the depression is having a party). And the "the tears are just under the surfice and why do we have to discuss this and why did my brain come to such an unhelpful conclusion and how do I change it and it hurts not to cry" moments. The Psychiatrist's office. No, right after being in the Psychiatrist's office, when I'm leaving and crying. Church/religious issues or paperwork to fill out and sign my name to (yes, I have to verify my FAFSA information; suffering through the initial form was not enough). Scrupulous OCD, you're like the princess and the pea. But what really seems crazy to me? Working with six to eight toddlers by myself, or with help, and liking it. Why on earth do I like it? Changing diapers, contemplating the misteries of healthy discipline (that nobody's really figured out, but some moms are probably ...

The doctor mentioned something about my possibly needing help to sleep again on this new medication. I wasn't really surprised when I didn't sleep well last night. That could likely be "normal (for me)" worrying. I think the nausea might actually be from the new medication. And maybe part of the tiredness? But maybe not, 'cause I've been pretty tired lately. A bit of advice; don't read a book about people having upset stomachs when yours is upset already. So the medication testing continues. Switching from Seroquel to Abilify. Yes, I'm scared. What if the Seroquel helped more than I thought it did? What if I have a bad reaction to Abilify? Yawn. I'm a bit too tired to worry very well today. I skipped excercising today. I'm a bit too tired for my most hazerdous thoughts. That's convenient. Back to my oppinion last fall; if I feel like a zombie (in the not-horror-film-art sense of the word), there are some mistakes that I wont make. I w...

It occured to me perhaps 25 minutes into shopping for the right gift bag for a babyshower gift, that people actually wouldn't be analysing my choice of gift bag (too girly, too boyish, wrong animal, inaccurate baby when it's for two babies, too big, too small, etc.). I did finally choose. Oh, and I didn't spend the whole 25 minutes on gift bag shopping; I got a few other things, too. Hehe, and I went to a whole different store before that to get the gift. Trouble finding the registry. Checking to see if I could have gotten a better deal on a lawn chair at this store than the chair I've already purchased on clearance at another store. Yes, I knew it was checking to make me feel better. No, it still didn't solve the pressing question, should I or should I not have bought said lawn chair. I like it, but maybe I wasted money on it. Maybe it's a sort of stealing since I've gotten some financial assistance in another area of life. But chair aside, I found a bab...

I saw my counselor yesterday. I gave my suggestions for why I was depressed, but she wasn't convinced. Maybe I have a tiny sinus infection really close to my brain... Um, no. Maybe it's because one of my medications last month had funny spots on it (seriously, but I've already taken them, so it's too late to change that. This months still look fine). Um, no. So why? Why the stupid depression? Maybe if I did this, maybe if I did that, maybe... oh, please, I just want to sleep (she doesn't particularly like me using the sleep answer to what-will-I-do questions). I said, I felt like I came to counseling and got told what I'm doing wrong. She said, no, if I'm getting that impression, I need to let her know. Her final position was that I was doing the right things. She still wants me to be less judgemental of myself and had mercy on myself (particularly in the area of figuring out my own understanding of religion in relationship to what I've been taught)....

One of my friends invites me over fairly often, and I invite myself over occasionally (okay, maybe I only did that once). I love to watch her make cookies, with help from very young helpers. And she peacefully ignores the loud bang of measuring cups on the counter. Doesn't care when a child decides to try raw oats, seems unconcerned about the raw egg, and definately eats the raw cookie dough. She might rinse her hands in there, but I don't recall a good, solid, with-soap handwashing. I just watch kind of amazed (and very rarely help, after I wash my hands with soap in an acceptable way). I think, this is how people live on the other side of the ocd barrier. (My family had ocd-ish tendencies in cooking and cleaning.) I feel uplifted by the insane possibility of sanity in the kitchen. And I feel a bit jealous. And I sort of almost kind of start to understand, but at the same time, it never really makes sense. That's my non-ocd glimpse through a friend. This same friend has ...

The Sunday meltdown. Usually, I don't actually cry in the morning. Wait, didn't I say that another time not so long ago? But I was discouraged, even though I kept telling myself it was a new minute in a new day (new days restarted every minute). That helped, but didn't completely erase the muddy waters swirling beneath me. I asked for prayer. The one word "health" on the paper thing that the church collects. The multiword having thoughts I don't want for the lady available to pray with people that I talked to. I didn't want to say depression, because I didn't want her to judge me. I guess I feel like unwanted thoughts are more acceptable than an ongoing, yet-to-be-ideally-medicated depression. I continue to not understand the whole Christianity versus legalism versus laziness versus scrupulous OCD thing. Earlier this week, a friend asked if the OCD was why I had so many questions about that. Yes, I'm pretty sure it's nicely embedded in the ...

Sometimes I think that (other) people with mental illnesses who are still fighting, I think they are so brave. I forget to apply that to myself; personally, I know how un-bold I'm feeling. How sick of everything. How it's hard to keep going. I know more of the tears I've cried, more of the times I've indulged in coming up with bad solutions. I know more of the hours of "un-needed" sleep I've enjoyed, more of the therapy homework I've left undone, more of the meals I have trouble bringing myself to eat. I don't feel bold. But really, I am part of their group. Maybe they don't "feel" brave, either. It's amazing how much sympathy and care other people with mental illnesses can give to each other. Never mind - or perhaps especially in mind - of their own time in deep dark holes. Them there telling me to take care of myself. Me promising to see them next week. I'm glad I go to some support groups here locally. They aren't spe...

"I'm not freaking out, I'm not freaking out, I'm not freaking out, Okay! I'm freaking out." That is the way I drove into the center of town. Ha, and I live in a small town. Immagine what I'd do in a big city (simple, I wouldn't go there unless there was a compelling enough reason). My rough days got rougher. Sunday and Monday were pretty bad. I can't remember much of Saturday (I did sleep a good part of it), so that could be good or bad. But today, I was more hopeful, having survived yesterday. Now I just have to finish out the evening and get through tomorrow. Thursday, I see my counselor. Yesterday, I went to a book store that was closing (my afternoon plan was to wander stores until I needed to get home to eat something in time to get to the gym for the excersize class. After that, I was free to go to bed. Ahhhh. :) But back to the book store. My weekness in buying books is actually for board books. And preferably not the lift-the-flap kind,...