Well, I suppose maybe I "ought" to be home practicing music for the musical I'm in. We're supposed to be "off book" tonight. I don't have a book, but I'm guessing they'd like for us to be off the written music, as well. Actually, I know they'd like that. But the thing is, I still don't even know all of the music. I have one under some semblance of control and two still to learn. Oh, well, what are they going to do? Take my music from my hands? And then what? I just can't sing it as well (not that I can sing them well anyway). Okay, I do wish I knew the music, but I ended up working this afternoon unexpectedly (that's my excuse). Blogging doesn't sound like such a noble excuse. I'm "taking care of myself." That sounds better. And I might still have half an hour to learn the other two songs (ha!)...
Last night, I did talk to my counselor for a bit. Actually, I was mid-conversation with some other people when she called. I immediately was distracted and then left the room since I had planned to take her call. Then later I had this anxious, what did I miss in the conversation, thought. Did I miss some thought that would have really helped me out? I had the same concern in another conversation with my dad where I'd wonder, if I hadn't have spoken so quickly, would he have said something more on this or that, something really helpful to me? Have any of you had that anxiety? It's irritating, but I'm working on moving on.
Anyway, my counselor said that actually, I did very well at doing the things that are supposed to help depression. She thought I did alot. I didn't feel like it. I felt like there is much more I could do. But now I've been telling myself, you are doing alot. You are working to do the things to help you feel better. You don't need to focus on all that you aren't doing but could if you were a superhero. You are doing the things you are supposed to. Like exercising (sometimes) and eating and sleeping and thinking and blogging and reading and working and pursuing a higher education degree and getting out with people in support groups and being part of this musical coming up... Okay, that sounds a bit exhausting, probably because it is.
The musical has given me mixed feelings. Sometimes I enjoy it, particularly dancing parts when I'm finally getting them down. But then there is lots of wait-around time. Translate - awkward social time or avoiding social time or whatever. My parts aren't that big, so there is lots of wait time. Also there is practice until 9:30 at night. I tend to start going downhill at some point in the afternoon/evening. Then there is perfectionism that won't be hit because even I know it's impossible. And... I don't know. I think the thing is; the grey feeling that visits me daily right now has no problem showing up at rehearsal. My depression and anxiety have no problem presenting while I'm in this "social" setting. And maybe I hide it. But really, who would suggest not hiding it? I could walk around saying, "this and that makes me anxious," but it would make me anxious to say that, too. So I'll keep at least what I consider to be less "normal" anxieties to myself (unless I get the urge to inform people of my mental illness and how present mental illness can be here in this life). And then depression? I don't even want to know myself that I'm depressed while I'm at rehearsal, and telling someone else would mean me having to hear it. My ears are too close to my mouth. So I think I'll continue keeping it to myself. And after all, I'm acting and I'm supposed to be acting because I was cast as an actor, so I can save my self-revelation for my blog or support group or some other time (unless, as I already said, I get the urge to share about my mental illness, because there are sometimes when I feel like talking about it and maybe it isn't even the most wise time but I don't really care right then because I want to share it). Actually, off "stage" or practice stage, I don't have to act to cover up who I am. Really, I mean using discression on when to talk about mental illness. There are lots of other honest things to talk about, like my guinnea pig or how I cleaned up throwup twice at work today and how I couldn't get the smell out of my classroom (they might wish I stuck to talking about a little depression - some child care stories gross people out).
Okay, I'd better go. Talk to you later.