Thursday, I saw my counselor. Not my happiest visit. I was being trouble and I knew it, so I tried to switch tracks and go right out and say my problem instead of arguing with her questions. I didn't have motivation to do anything about my depression, (aside from seeing the psychiatrist and taking my meds). She said, "That is a telling statement." She said that in that case, it would be harder, but she couldn't leave me where I was; she'd have to push or pull me out of where I was. That bothered me, not because she would push or pull, but that she would have to. I have taken some pride in the fact that I have actively fought my OCD and depression (even if it was in small actions). But I didn't want to anymore. Looking back, over the conversation, she did rouse some sort of desire to actively fight, but I was pretty discouraged to have needed to have such a conversation.
I also had showed her a picture I made about how I deal with a certain OCD thought. She asked if I still thought about that most days. Duh, of course I did! I'd been thinking those thoughts most days for over a year, except for that improved time I had in December/January. I find it discouraging those times when my therapist realizes in a new way something that I've been dealing with for a long time, something I've been trying to convince myself is normal for me and not a big deal. But I guess I find it hopeful, too. Maybe if there is a recognized, serious problem, she can help me do something about it. On the negative, though, we've "dealt" with this before, and I really dislike the, "replace it with another thought" advice. OCD thoughts? Let them exist. Depression thought that therapist thinks is particularly unhelpful? Replace it. "It's a bad habit; you need to change it." Mmhmm. Soon as I'm told it's a bad habit that I need to change, I feel guilt. And that is one thing I really don't need to add on top of the other depressive thought. Anyway, I've occasionally dabbled at the thought-replacement method, but I mostly just get upset with it.
So Thursday evening, I want to talk about my motivation issue, so I actually manage to get myself all the way to the support group for mental illnesses. And then? This is so sad; I didn't talk about it. Why? Because I didn't want to interupt and change the subject!! And when I had almost gotten myself to speak, a small group of people came in fifteen minutes before the end. Then I did the whole, I-should-let-them-talk-since-they-only-have-fifteen-minutes thing. So-and-so's issue is more serious; I should let them talk. Conclusion? I left without discussing my pressing issue and cried on my way home. Then I called a friend, and cried with her, and told her what I had wanted to tell them. She tried to help me understand that my issues were just as important and valid as everyone else's. She also convinced me to promise to take Friday afternoon off homework to rest and take care of myself. Then for some reason I asked if the evening counted as part of the afternoon. Was I not bold enough to take the evening off without her approval? Was I preemptively reassuring myself that I was telling the truth when I promised? Was I "manipulating"? I worried about my question for hours. "Manipulating" is a hot button tied to a past OCD attack.
Anyway, Friday, I took the afternoon off school (after dealing with someone over the phone regarding a school assignment). But I was surprised by the anxiety. You shouldn't have promised to take the afternoon off, and especially not the evening. Now you can't relax because you are so anxious. You should be doing schoolwork so that you would be actually doing something to reduce your stress. And so that you wouldn't feel the anxiety. You shouldn't spend so much time playing computer games; It is a waste of time. And so on and so forth. My friend even approved of the computer games! What was with the anxiety? Acting like it used to when I was a girl and got my birthdays off of chores and schoolwork and had this horrible feeling related to the limited time to enjoy and trying to use this free time right and worrying about not having it again for a year. Anxiety, you can be such a thief! And I let you? Anyway, I stayed up very late Friday because my depression/anxiety had me feeling yucky and I didn't want to go to bed feeling that way.
Saturday, I visited my family because I needed help with a 30 minute lab exercise for school. I had a great time. And I got to see the less than twenty-four hours old baby goats. This picture continues to give me a feeling of peace.
Sunday morning I was greeted with another migraine/bad headache. They wake me up, the rude things! I'm hoping that getting off one of my meds will take the headaches away. I see the Psychiatrist this week. Anyway, I took an over-the-counter pain reliever and slept some more. I didn't used to get sleepy on this pain reliever, but I sure have trouble waking up with it, now. It didn't help that the headache was muted but still present. I went to leave for church around the time the service would start. My car, however, didn't start. Dead battery. My back lights have this thing about staying on even when I turn them off. I usually check for this, but sometimes I forget, and once or twice they've turned themselves back on. Either way, the car was very dead. So I went back to sleep. I woke up in the afternoon, and a neighbor helped me jump my car. So in some ways, my life is back on track. My appetite isn't, though. Usually, when the mental illness intrudes on my desire to eat, I still feel hungry, I just don't like the idea of eating. Today, though, even the hunger keeps abandoning me. Not sure if it's a bug or the depression/anxiety. I think I'll eat a nice, slow, substantial supper with a movie at home. Hopefully that will help.
I think that's enough for today. :)