unreasonably rational

Some friends gave me a gift card, which was really so, so nice, because I can spend it on something "beautiful" like they told me to without feeling guilty that I'm not spending it on gas or something else that isn't even sold at that store. So I got a flower ring (on a really great, more than half off sale). Before that, my aunt gave me the frog ring for Christmas time. Together, they can be the princess and the frog story. And I'm really into jewelry just now, which, by the way, isn't exactly normal for me. I got a necklace from Target that is their "Be Brave" necklace, with the engraving, "I am always with you Be brave have courage and love life". The box is even better, if such a thing is possible. It says, "With the courage to live life comes the gift to love life." You can look it up on Target's website. I don't want to include a link, because that seems like the equivalent o...

Let me give the disclaimer/warning: You may or may not agree with me as I talk about what is controversial to some people. But you don't have to agree with me; it's a free country and OCD doesn't rule. So have a Merry weekend, whatever kind you choose to have. And if you want to skip this blog post, that's fine, too. :) My mom got pretty upset as a child trying to figure out how to celebrate Christmas in a way that served Jesus. So she and my dad and some others decided to celebrate it differently when I was little. They had a birthday party and we made a gift for people in need or did some service project, to be our "present" for Jesus. And as a kid, birthday parties are fun, but when you reach your teens, it isn't the same. And when the friends who used to celebrate the birthday party with you leave... and then when my church fell apart, part of it during Christmas time... And then Christmas was a painful thing for me. But I still had to deal with t...

Well, the answer is, no, I can't wear my frog ring on my finger for more than a couple hours without it starting to bother me. But it is a really cool ring, so I'm trying to tough it out. Yesterday, I was late for my psychiatrist appointment. Really late. But it wasn't so bad. I first started running late when I saw that getting my mood chart ready for the dr was taking me longer than I expected. Then I started pushing it on allowing plenty of time (typically an hour, as that is a nice round number). Because I worked SO hard (well, actually just plain hard) on my chart thing, I wanted to print it, so I cut 6 minutes into my hour getting it printed. Probably still okay, but snow was falling, and my "premonition" was to skip printing and just start driving. So maybe I was going to be guilty. I didn't know yet. Then, of course, I came to "road work" signs on the highway. But I assured myself that wouldn't hold me up long, since I had passed ...

Well, it seems to be a pattern. I write a really upbeat blog post, and then something goes wrong. Actually, things "go wrong" all the time. Anxiety is good at finding me here and there, even when it has receded enough to give me a good day or even a good several months. I suppose this is perfectionism faced with a challange. I'm not going to be perfectly happy. I'm not going to be perfectly healthy. I'm not going to go about my life perfectly. The perfect is in heaven and I'm not there yet. Rats. Of course, you already know that anxiety comes back. You already know that mental illness has ups and downs. So maybe it is just my OCD telling me, you'd better make sure your friends know you aren't cured, because A., that would be a lie, and you know how OCD feels about anything with the slightest possibility of being a lie, and B., if you say you are healthy, all your support system will melt before your very eyes, and you will have to struggle with the...

Wow, I've gone almost a week without posting. Probably has a bit to do with my being done with my two online courses for the semester. I don't have to do as much online, especially with deadlines. Prepare for sudden topic change. Back to mental health. I think one of the greatest "proofs" to me that depression and OCD are actually illnesses is what recovery for me is like. Take OCD. One of my worst (i.e., most disturbing to me) obsessions was up and running when I "fell apart" and started medication. Exposure Response Prevention was too stressful for me to do much with it with this particular obsession. Then came one of the med changes, and this issue has for the most part melted away. Since then, I've switched SSRIs a couple times, but this issue has never regained all the power it once held. My counselor pointed out that it could have to do with my therapy, and maybe it did, but how much this obsession bothered me followed by how much it just melte...

Now, for once, I wish for a private blog. I went to a shelter recently with some other people. I was just going to play guitar and sing, but ended up doing more. Anyway, the night went well. I got to talk to various people and enjoyed my time. Until the end. Combine late night with memories. Of being in a locked building, only I was locked inside. Of getting my evening meds from a caretaker. Of bed checks, of classes during the day, of my life out of control, of ... wordless feelings. Of my stay in the hospital. Every so often, I think about it. And I'm grateful for being able to go to the hospital when I was feeling so bad. I'm grateful  that I finally got to see a psychiatrist, and not just for one short visit. I'm grateful for the classes. And I'm still disturbed. I felt like it was a grown up version of a daycare like where I worked when I was on the outside. I felt for the nurses trying to take care of us all. I understood when they didn't have enou...

And now for a less serious post? Maybe? Today, I had hot chocolate with a friend, then went out to see the eagles! There were a number of people out with their cameras. It is tough to get a good picture, at least with my limited zoom camera. I think the third picture might be my best yet, though I haven't compared it with last time's photos. And I got my "exercise" while I was out walking and jogging to photograph birds and exercise. My walk back, the camera was off due to lack of battery power. That was nice, because it let me look at the eagles and appreciate them without subtracting from that in my quest to photograph them. (Though I was tempted to see if I could get in one more picture before the batteries completely died.) The sun has come out after a few days of rain and snow. Seems to be helping my mood. The therapy light does seem to help my mood, but it doesn't stop my mood from going down on cloudy days. I presume it helps me not go as far do...

Oh, that's an easy topic. Tell myself to spend more money on food and then go about preparing to do so. Paying bills Not paying bills Answering questions. Not answering questions. Getting mail (particularly if the mail has to do with money). (Not getting mail usually just makes me a tiny bit sad, not anxious. :D  ) Answering questions like what I might like for Christmas. And now, since it is possible that the person who asked will read this, please let me elaborate. I don't mind the question. Actually, sometimes it is nice, because it lets me ask for things that I haven't been able to justify buying for myself but that I'd really like. I just worry that I'll ask for the wrong thing, for something too expensive, for not what I really want, for someone to feel like they HAD to get me what I suggest, when really I just want them to take it as an idea they can like or turn aside. But rest assured, if I wasn't worrying about this, there would be some...

From Friday... "So, the joy of taking my medication early yesterday and now being over 24 hours without it today,... I just don't quite feel good. Just a little off, tense, emotional. Yeah, I remember when I tried to get off Seroquel a year and a half ago. Cold turkey from 300 mg, under doctor supervision, mind you. Anyway, we settled for going back on, but we kept it at 150 mg instead of 300 because I didn't seem to need the 300. Anyway, I should feel all better tomorrow." Yeah, it was (not) fun being off Seroquel for a few hours. I explained it to my mom as feeling like you are really really hungry so you are almost shakey and you could snap. She then was sympathetic and really nice about it and I didn't snap at her, either. Instead, I waited until almost 6 pm and took the Seroquel, happy to let her drive me to my brothers' dance recital and then spend the night at my family's house. And I am Oh, so thankful for Seroquel and whatever I'm on that is...

Well, here I am, on the computer, pretty much set up for homework. But am I doing homework? Oh, no. I haven't even checked my e-mail yet! Checking that now... Today was, well, one of those days . I woke up, late. (Self control did not win, and I went back to bed with my alarm on snooze, and then must have turned it off...). Knowing I would be ten to fifteen minutes late to work, I called to let them know, and took my morning medication. Well, that was the goal. But I started by taking my evening Seroquel. REALLY??? Great second step to waking up too late to get to work on time. Then, at work, well, I still work in a toddler classroom. Kids still bite. I still get frustrated. And my boss still reviews what happened when a bite report will be sent home. This time, her conclusion was that I wasn't the best multitasker. Okay, yeah. I'll agree with that. I'll take her advice for letting somebody else do the multitasking job when such a situation comes up again. Today,...

On the mental health front; I learned something today. In my mind, my life consists of working, going to school, and taking care of my mental health. Naps, relaxing, exercise, self-care, all of that falls under taking care of my mental health. But I think it makes me sound ill when I talk about it that way with people who maybe don't view their own lives as being lived on a mental health battlefield. So today, I made a discovery; I can describe what I do for self-care instead of giving the "mental health care" summary. Actually, I think the outside world might call them "hobbies." I read books, watch movies, paint little things, tap dance... Doesn't that make me sound like a healthier person? Even to myself, it sounds more positive, less locked in mortal combat with the monster that is/was trying to take over my brain. So that is one recent lesson. Another is about mindfulness and eating. My counselor mentioned how she sometimes suggests people think abo...

 Despite the OCD-recognized possibility for it being evil, I got a Santa stocking. I have never had a stocking for Christmas (that I can remember), and I've decided that I want to do one this year. Of course, surprising myself with its contents might be a little hard. Because my gifts from relatives that get mail, I usually open them right away (not big on self control there), and gifts from myself, well, I've seen before. But I've found a way around that. I plan to buy one or two of those mystery toys that comes in a little foil sealed bag and gives you one of the "series" of toys shown on the package. Basically, a surprise. Of course, that will take self control as well, so we'll see how long it lasts. Perhaps in my own personal tradition, stockings will get opened two or three weeks early. That is the advantage of starting my own tradition for myself, right?  As for the tree, I got this idea last year of making one on the wall with construction paper...

You wouldn't expect OCD to find a silver lining. Then again, maybe you would. OCD finds some sort of reassurance in a particular misery of mine... yeah, that has probably happened before. In this case, the cloud was that I needed to replace the rear brakes on my car. Not what I'd planned for my try-to-reduce-my-credit-card-debt plan. And the brakes would cost more than what the lady put down for the value of my car when she helped me with my Food Stamps application last time. And there I finally found relief. See, I was thinking that this time, since I'm the one writing the value down, maybe I should put a higher number on the value of my car (which is really a mystery value, since nobody knows how long it will last; it is an old car, nearly as old as I am). Maybe it was worth more than the lady decided the first time. But add a big repair bill to the picture? Okay, the lady had a good value picked out. So that OCD dilemma was solved, thanks to my rear brakes going bad. ...

My feelings go up and down. Yesterday? Great. Or at least good. Today? Well, it started okay, aside from feeling definitely sick with a cold. But when I got to sorting out my drawer of Possibly Important Papers and failed to find the one important paper I was looking for, well, that didn't go over so well. I finally fled my house to get to the library before it closes, leaving piles of organized papers filling my living room. The bank papers, the credit card and car insurance papers, the bills paid, professional development, mental health, garbage. I even forgot to throw out the garbage before I left. And the pile I have called Special Saves for years. Cards I'm not ready to throw away yet, mostly. But not the paper I wanted to find. And I've been agonizing over where on the Food Stamps form to put the $20 bill my aunt sent me last month (because leaving it out would be a lie and might have terrible consequences). At this point, I'm almost ready to cry uncle and call ...

Ah, the lovely feeling of ... HOPE! Don't know why it came visiting this evening, even while I'm hungry for supper, but here it is! It seemed to start coming when I started actually doing the things on my list that are related to my fears. I.e., reapplying for Food Stamps. Cue the form-filling OCD obsessions. (I'm gonna do it wrong. What if I tell a lie, accidentally or subconsciously on purpose? What if I send the wrong support information? - oh, wait, that one is easy; they will just contact me and ask for the right information.) But actually, some of the questions are remarkably easy. Like my address. I do know that. For sure and certain. (Now that I've said that, I'm trying to think of a way I could be wrong.) And listening to a lecture. It was actually fine. Long enough that I wanted to take a break in the middle, but that doesn't have to be long. The next two lectures are really long, but they have been successfully downloaded (I hope). And, my colle...

Well, I've gotten a light box. In my counselor's experience, doctors have just recommended "getting a light box," not specified the perfect light box or the perfect schedule. So I went ahead and purchased one. And I'm really really hoping it helps. So far, it is really bright when it is on, but seems to help me feel more awake. Which is nice. I practiced with two others from my church at church yesterday to get ready for music this Sunday. And guess what? I felt... safe. I actually enjoyed it. I enjoyed making music with other people. I enjoyed feeling like a valued part of a team. The experience was lovely. As for school, I've come across a bit of trouble. I suppose it could be described as my usual trouble at about this point in the semester. This is the point, just after the last day to withdraw and get a W on your transcript, where I have trouble caring about my classes. Acoustics of speech? Not interesting enough. Intro to Audiology? Later. This would...

P.S., the farmer did not clip the chickens' wings, so they can still fly. I'm not being completely unrealistic here, though possibly somewhat. The farmer says, "Well, it's fowl weather today." Last night, as has thankfully become unusual, I had trouble getting to sleep. I got thinking about something that bothered me, and it was slow to go away. But here it is. I generally like Facebook, and my problem is not with Facebook itself, but with people's posts. The dumb blond jokes have thankfully left (they didn't bother me too much, anyway, despite having "dirty blond" hair). Instead, people make jokes and digs about people on government assistance. You know, people like me, who have food stamps or something like that. Of course, if I speak up, they either say that they are only talking about all the people abusing the system, or they say nothing. (Okay, shall I admit it? This is only based on two or three entries.) So they don't think they a...

I found the perfect new shoes. Actually, they didn't pass the "I'm certain they wont hurt my feet by not fitting quite perfectly" test, because I decided not to give that test this time. Instead, this is what I got; tennishoes that have leather (or fake leather) around the toe and sides instead of that mesh stuff that is "in" now. And shoes that are supposed to make it harder to slip! Both good things, since these are to be my winter shoes. And I sprayed them with water-resistant spray for added protection. I decided to get new shoes yesterday when I saw that my old ones were like bald tires, missing tread in key areas. Another thing I did yesterday was drive to the second-nearest mall to find these shoes, which involved crossing state lines and driving for a short while. This is important because I was setting a precident to keep driving even during the winter when it is cold and dark. Actually, it was remarkably safe since the snow had melted off the roa...

Well, my OCD was happy with the election results. Apparently my votes aren't going to ruin the country. Big feeling of relief. The only good thing about such fears of ruining the country is that they made fears of ruining a church seem anticlimactic. Today, I met with the music pastor of my church and played guitar and sang. Well, if it was a test, I passed it. And I told him that I'd had bad experiences with playing music and church. So now I feel good about that, at least for the moment. And he seemed quite fine with my not wanting to play all the time. How's this; I want to play, but more because I know that it would be good for me than because I straight up want to play. It's time to take my music skills out of hiding (where they truly have been, though some things are easy to hide when people don't actively look for them). As for the "risk" my OCD has informed me of that the church might fall apart when I play guitar in church on Sunday, well, I...

Tomorrow, I get an unwanted exposure. I'm busy with my planned exposures, thank you. But no, election day comes regardless of my feelings. And really, I'm not against voting. I think it is a privilege. But OCD has been known to mess with people's privileges. Driving without undue anxiety? Privilege? Yes. Mine? Um, sometimes. Voting is similar. Too much responsibility, even while I know that my one vote won't necessarily (or even likely) be a deciding vote on anybody's election. In fact, in a past election that my OCD messed with, I was relieved when I learned that my vote that OCD was bugging me about had NOT been a deciding factor. But here I am "researching" my choices for tomorrow. I won't call it OCD researching, well, not most of it, since it is preferable for people to have some idea of who they are voting for instead of playing eeny meeny miney moe in the voting booth. But I will call it amusing. And here we present, candidate so-and-so, whose...

The librarian was talking too loud. And emphatically. And urgently. And repeatedly, saying the same thing over and over, like she had to out-talk the person she was trying to help. Good thing she wasn't talking to me, but it was still hard (or impossible?) to ignore. Back to OCD. I did exposures through the week on my fear of the pastor deceiving me, my going to hell, other people going to hell because I didn't figure it out and say something, etc. Sunday, I did it through the sermon, and was VERY anxious. Monday, I did it while waiting in my car between activities, talking audibly approximately along the lines of a script, over and over. It was simultaneously increasingly boring but still anxiety-triggering. Tuesday and Wednesday, I was distracted by high anxiety mistake at work. Thursday, I did the written script (or was that Friday?), over and over. I got my anxiety up to a 7 (on a 1 - 10 scale) and also down to a 3. I varied the script somewhat, though, trying to get a sh...

Well, I've had quite the week. Exposure on Sunday, talking up an exposure on Monday (like a loop tape, except that I just repeated myself speaking instead of recording myself), making a mistake at work that could have turned out badly, getting through the anxiety that brought up, and now, I'm getting ready to take a test. So I guess things are going okay now. Work was more enjoyable today. And, unlike my dream this morning, I did get to the library in time to take my quizzes before I am scheduled to take my test. (And I'm feeling pretty positive about the test, too.) My counselor recommends I do a written exposure, repeating myself in writing, and noting my anxiety level a couple times per page. She thinks that it will be easier to see the anxiety going down. And she, of course, approved of my trying to do exposures during the week and not just on Sundays. Well, I'll keep this short and go get ready to take my test. Happy November to all!

Well, it wasn't a particularly thoroughly planned out Exposure Response Prevention exercise, but then again, I did put some thought into the over all problem. So I sat through the sermon telling myself that the pastor might deceive me and lead me to hell. Added in that he might deceive us all and lead us all to hell. Added in that it might bring some families ten years of grief, and somebody might end up with a mental disorder like somebody I love from the past church ended up with (causation completely unproven) (that friend wasn't me, either). Well, it was a loooong sermon. And I was very distressed. I guess if I step back and look at the thoughts rationally, it makes sense that they would disturb me. Nonetheless, I continue to be surprised and dismayed whenever OCD disturbs me. I wanted the distress to go down noticeably by the end. And it didn't go down as much as I wanted. I'm not sure if this is because I almost automatically kept making the exposure harder by...

Thus far, my weekend has been too full of stressful social situations. I went to a 2.5 hr training last night and another 8 hr one today, both intended to help the child care worker improve their work. Two more among many trainings out there letting you know how to have a better class, how to develop smarter kids (why, so they can have a higher risk of mental illness?), how to have better behaved kids. Last nights might not have gotten so into behavior issues, but today's sure did. If only I do such-and-such, there will be less behavior problems in my classroom. If only the teacher does his/her job in the best way (which varies from trainer to trainer, depending on what theory they advocate as fact), the children with have much less behavior issues, will learn lots more, and, well, it will just be better. So, in my emotionally depleted state, I've gotten grumpy, sarcastic, and developed more depressed thoughts. But today's training was just extra special (introduce sarc...

At least in my life, this has been true. OCD issues are more or less disturbing aspects of my life that are liable to change with changing seasons in my life, with changing medication, with changing therapy participation and methods. But before I get too far, I'd like to mention a conversation I recently had with a friend living with depression and anxiety but without the OCD label. I talked about having trouble making decisions at the store. She agreed with me, and labeled it depression. So I got more specific. I have trouble making decisions at the store, whether I should buy this or that, whether it is worth it to spend that much money on this, or would it be wasting my money and therefore a sin... And suddenly she was saying that that would be hard to deal with. And yeah, it is. So part of me was happy she respected that. And another part of me was thinking, yeah, but this is my life. This is my normal. Stressful? I guess so, but I don't always think about that, because s...

This past week has been interesting. I read some cheap romantic suspense novel, Code of Justice by Liz Johnson (Steeple Hill Books, New York, 2011), but it contained two people feeling responsible for things they really weren't completely responsible for. In one person, this was manifested in guilt from the past. In the other person, she felt like she had to do something to be responsible. Anyway, it was a Christian novel, so they end up giving it over to God and being free from their incorrectly assumed responsibility and guilt. So then I was thinking about myself and past church experiences where churches fell apart. And I'm not really sure why I said it, but I said something to myself about my not being responsible for either church's demise. And saying that made me feel relieved. The confusing thing to me is that I know so clearly that I couldn't be responsible for either one. I wasn't one of the main actors in the drama. In fact, I didn't do much. A co...

I finally found a successful anti-suspense-novel-dreams method; read a suspense novel during the day. Well, it seems to be working. I read one Sunday and one Monday, but not one yesterday, yet, I have had three mornings of acceptable dreams. :) This actually doesn't mean they aren't at all disturbing, it just means I've broken my run of suspense novel dreams, for which I am very grateful. So here is one piece of subjective evidence for justifying reading cheap suspense novels! Today, I felt like I might have wasted time with my counselor. Yay; undesired Exposure. So, I don't know if complaining about it counts as a form of sitting with anxiety? But I hope it does, because that's what I'm doing. Maybe I wasted counseling time. I wonder why I think that is so terrible? I mean, maybe if I was in desperate straights, and really needed to talk about subject A and instead talked about a very non-pressing issue B, maybe that would be a problem? But then again, someti...