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...