unreasonably rational

There was something so comforting about taking my first quiz in one of my classes (not counting the academic honesty understanding quizes they have decided to add to every single online class). Seeing all the right answers pop out in green, with my one wrong answer in red, with my second choice answer for that question (only you don't get second choices, but if I did) marked as the correct answer. Maybe it's the instant feedback telling me I'm good at something. Ding! You are good at taking multiple choice tests with minimal study time. I guess I can use some of that in my life. Wonder why I don't do that for myself. No, I don't wonder. Here's the reason: it sounds prideful, so it might be a sin. Poof! Here comes Scrupulosity OCD, like a supervillian, ready to hold it's dictatorship over the "possible sin" category of my life. But let's think more slowly, supervillian. Sinful pride is false pride, and/or putting myself higher than I should be...

Well, I actually managed to call in sick today. I have this problem when I get the flu. I think, am I making it up? Am I bringing it on to myself? Am I really sick enough to stay home? But the upset stomach gave a convincing enough argument, and I called in sick. My boss was nice about it, too. I l slept all morning, into the early afternoon. Now I'm at that stage when I'm exhausted, but I want to stay awake long enough to sleep at night. I'm hungry, but still a little sick, (but hunger can make me feel sick, too), so I'm trying to figure out what to eat so that it is enough and not too much... tomorrow, I really need to work, because they will be short on people. I actually think I am doing better and will be able to work tomorrow, but for now, I'm in that in between state. So if my writing makes no sense, I will blame it on that. I left my home to get internet because today, my classes start, and I think you are supposed to check in the first day. You might have...

Friday night, after the show, I decided that was the night to get my giraffe. Good thing, too, since there were only four left, and I decided to allow myself to carefully choose the exact one I wanted (yes, this means debating which animal is the cutest in my opinion - and yes, it could be another compulsion). Then I cleaned all my dishes (minus one that was left to irritate my OCD - I concluded that continuing to debate the issue in my mind was probably giving in to OCD more than making either decision of washing or not washing it - after probably 5 minutes of debate). And then, hurray! I took pictures of me and my giraffe. I'm still in my make-up and hair from the show. The last two nights, I have slept poorly, dreaming disturbing dreams (unrelated to the show this time) and waking up frequently. Long nights that leave me exhausted. But I managed to keep hold of the giraffe through it. I was surprised. Saturday, I met a friend from when I went to community college (in p...

It's working. I'm doing intentional ERP as opposed to incidental ERP for the first time in a while. All for a little stuffed giraffe. "Bribery gets you everywhere," as someone used to say. "Almost," as my OCD would be careful to add. I've even put masking tape over the spot on my alarm clock where a light shows that my alarm is set! I've read about doing that sort of thing to stop the kind of checking you do by glancing at something, but this might be the first time I've done it myself. And I'm not repeatedly rechecking my cell phone alarm, either. I've succeeded in one evening so far. The anxiety did bug me for a bit, but I really want that giraffe. :) Being a penny pincher, or perhaps just an OCDer with scrupulosity issues regarding wasting my money, I've planned to do seven things to earn this seven dollar toy. Not recheck my alarms, stop "protecting" my laptop from starting a fire (I'm in a hurry for this giraffe...

Well, the prescription savings cards that I printed last week weren't very helpful; my pharmacy also has a prescription savings card they use for people without insurance, and the savings were similar. But since one of the medications was over $100, the pharmacy technician suggested I go back and look for coupons. I'll print a few more out today and see what helps the most. Basically, I'm in trouble until I get on the patient assistance program for that medication, and I know it. The pharmacist might not know that yet. Thank you to each of you who commented on my last post. My director's criticism continued, but I was not the only person upset! Which is somehow very encouraging to me, because it may mean that it isn't just because I have a mental illness that the comments bother me. Conveniently, however, I missed most of the comments on Friday because I thought I was supposed to come at 5:30 and they started at 4:30. I still got my cry in, when we were trying t...

Today, I get the pleasure of purchasing medications without insurance. So I was trying to find just the right prescription savings card. There are a million - or at least a handful - to choose from. And I didn't find one that I remember finding before. So I don't know which will be best. I'll print out two, bring another I got in the mail, and see if the pharmacist technician can help me. The I Hardly Ever Wash My Hands book that has been reviewed several times recently in blogs I read (and I keep reading the reviews, too) has caught my interest. I decided I wanted to read it, but in a "nobel" gesture towards saving money (or rather, not going as deep into debt), I was able to request it through my library. And I can pick it up now! Unfortunately, it is not at the library I'm sitting in right now, so I'll have to go to the other library (still near where I live, though). And they borrowed it from a library outside of our immediate system. I'm so gla...

http://familyaware.org/family-profiles/205-dan-age-43-dysthymia.html I just read this article and his last paragraph stood out to me, in which he claimed that what helped most in therapy wasn't the "work" we typically do (coping, dealing with the past), but, in his words, was the "look that conveyed a faith in me that I did not feel at the time." This resounded inside me. Sometimes I wonder why I still go to therapy. I know lots of things to do to help with my depression and anxiety. But I want to see a person that knows what I'm dealing with and is encouraging me to keep going. Sure, I've heard the criticism that we can get a listening ear from a good friend, so why do we have to pay someone to be a friend. And I do have the "Doubting Disease," after all, so it shouldn't surprise anyone that I wonder if I should be "paying" someone to listen and support me. But I do pay someone to listen to me and support me and help me keep go...

I visited last week's church again. And with the "if you want to meet people, you need to go meet them" reminder in my mind, I actually walked up to two girls at the end of the service. It worked! I enjoyed a few minutes of talking. And the pastor talked to me a few moments on my way out. I was considering asking my "what is your view on mental illness" questions, but I didn't actually bring them up. Then, of course, I second guessed even that decision. But I'm happy. Let's just leave things good. I don't need to hear an answer I don't want to hear and get all upset about it today (but, just in case you read this, pastor, I really do want to hear your honest answer, regardless of whether it makes me happy or sad). Now, I've left things so that I could call during the week if I wanted, or I could show up next Sunday, because I'm still hopeful about this church. For the musical, we practiced Friday, Saturday, and we'll practice ...

Well, counseling day. My counselor said again, if I want to cut down to seeing her every other week, she really, truly would add me back in if I decided I needed to see her every week again. In my mind, that isn't guaranteed. I would loose my "spot." What if her available times weren't good for me? There's that what if word again. I might be almost ready to cut down to every other week (counseling sessions). But I kind of want to start into the fall first. I'm concerned about - almost expecting, really - having a slump into worse depression when the fall comes, between school starting back up and the light slowly disappearing (that part has already started, but it will be more pronounced later). And thinking that my mood now - despite its short-comings - is too good to last. So I guess that would be a prediction, potentially a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I'm hoping my predicting suspicion proves false. This week I learned something funny. My counse...