unreasonably rational

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...