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Showing posts from May, 2012

OCD showed up to "help" me move

Moving went... better than I expected. I decided that people helping you move let these people see a little too intimately into your life. As in, they can see some of the forty or more board books I have collected, or the pink castle I bought from the thrift store. Very personal things. Or rather, things I am sensitive to criticism about. The books might be okay; even I agree I have too many. The pink castle and the other toys? Well, my "conscience" and I have wrestled over this (not sure if it's my real or my fake conscience), but these things represent hope and dreams about the future, about me being a speech therapist or an early childhood teacher some day. So that is why I keep them. Cleaning after the moving, that isn't going so well. Somehow, I managed to sign the lease for the new place without a big OCD showdown (yet). A few small ones cropping up, but no disasters (yet). But getting the old apartment cleaned up? There's a list. A move out policy. It say

another episode in the "Abigail and the Hematologist" saga.

I see I haven't written in a while. My mood is very... strong right now, whatever I am, I am very that. Very tired. Very okay. Very depressed. I switch between these slowly, as in, over a few hours or a day. That is slow compared to switching in a matter of minutes. Over all, I've been doing remarkably well. Recap. Last week on Tuesday at about 2:15, I got a phone call. This one is just so great, I have to share. "Hello?" "Hi, Abigail? Did you know that you had a bone marrow biopsy scheduled for today at two o'clock?" Mmmhmm. Special. Especially as it makes major miscommunication number three (not counting billing issues) with this doctors' office. The first incident was in December, the, oh, you have lots of tests... followed by my, "what tests are these?" followed by,... "bone marrow..." followed by, "I never agreed to that... The doctor didn't even talk to me about that..." accompanied by high stress and an

something you learn, or something you better get right right now

I saw my counselor again today. We got to talk about my picture story regarding last Sunday. When I cited my drawings on the sermon notes as an example of my "sin" (I wasn't listening to the sermon like I should have been and I was not hearing the pastor "right"), she told me a story to help me understand that lots of factors go into what happens. Her story was about someone student teaching with a bunch of complicating factors. I didn't quite see how I could "blame" my trouble listening to sermons on any factors besides my own "sin," but instead, I saw something else. I realized that in the childcare setting, I knew people had to learn skills over time, but in my personal Christian life - the stuff closer to the more "churchy" parts or formal religious parts - I didn't see a development of skills. I saw pass/fail with no way to pass. No wonder I get depressed about that. Recently, a new person started working at the child

Trouble Listening to Sermons

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The day began remarkably well once I woke up. I had my perky feeling. I was feeling good, and the sun was shining! I got to church a tad late but not too late. We sang songs, and I sang as one on the other side of the depression darkness instead of in the midst of it. I thought about not thinking about how good I was feeling, but of course, that wouldn't work. I knew the good feeling might not last, but I was hoping. I was thinking that maybe this time felt different from all the other times I have thought I was passed the darkness only to have it return. Anyway, we sang and all was pretty well.  Above, you see me smiling and the stick figure worship team.  Then the worship team left the stage and the pastor took the center point just below the stage. And I thought, "Maybe... Please let me be okay this time..."  My sketches are right to left and top to bottom, so a little confusing. The pastor kept talking, but his words somehow reminded me of... How do I even

perky

I found an apartment. As long as nothing goes wrong with them accepting my application, it should work out! It's a studio apartment with a kitchenette that would fit in a closet – that practically is in a closet. The refridgerator will... not win any awards size-wise unless it is a contest on loosing weight. And I will have an excuse for not using the oven or stove – since there isn't one. That could be a little tricky. I'm looking into an electric skillet or something for those rare days when I actually decide to cook something outside of the microwave or bread toaster. I keep hoping that some day I will … eat more healthily? But I'm very not into cooking, so that is a complicated goal. I've been in this perky mood lately, and it just keeps going. Maybe this is what it is like not to be depressed. I still have moments, but now it is moments of depressed thinking and hours of this strange, perky mood. It is almost scarey, even! However, I have not yet st

apartment searching

There is this in-between land. Too healthy to qualify for some services, to ill to quite make it as a healthy person. Too poor to afford housing etc, but too rich to qualify for help? My "riches" this time come in the form of my having taken twelve credits last semester. Disqualfied me for at least one subsidized housing option. My job, however, would qualify me easily. So how, I wonder, are students supposed to find housing? Are we supposed to be taking out loans to pay for our housing, when if we were just smart enough to take one class less, we would be able to get assistance now and at least slow down our debt accumulation process? Are we all supposed to have relatives and live with them, regardless of our age or current situation or even the location of these relatives? And here we are, accumulating debt since we either aren't patient enough or aren't holy enough (I don't really think this is the problem for me, just now; don't worry) or just aren't

dentist, moving, and classroom arrangement

I was just at the dentist. One side of my face is numb. Not the entire side, but still too much of it. :) I could feel myself being very tense during the whole numbing and cavity-fixing experience. I tried to relax a bit, but didn't even try to completely relax myself. And one of the shots to numb me really hurt (not really, really hurt, just actually hurt). Still hurts. Too close to my jaw, maybe? So it's a good thing I called about an apartment option before getting my face numbed, when my words sounded completely normal. I'm moving. I've got a few weeks, but it's coming. Closer, closer. I need to go through the Christmas decorations. Actually, I bought most of the ornaments (from a thrift store). Very few are my room-mates. But she asked that I go through them so that I pull out the ones I want before she sells the rest at a garage sale. I guess that's fair warning. I don't think she's as good at remembering whose is what. She wouldn't intenti

"5 Good Things" pages and my weekend.

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Well, above are some of my "5 Good Things" lists. I love adding the stickers. I have a nice collection of stickers to choose from now. Today, I had planned to go to a church a little further away that had people I used to know. The hope was that this would help me to process some stuff that happened back then. But... I slept in. Rats! But I did. And then I was faced with being really late to this other church, pretty late to my own church, or visiting a third church. I chose to visit a different church. I was mentally prepared to go somewhere new, and I could get to this church pretty much on time while still getting my apartment clean to my satisfaction before I left so that when my landlord showed it to prospective renters this afternoon, it would be in good shape. This morning that meant cleaning the guinnea pig's cage to cut down on the rodent smell. Anyway, I listened to pretty much the whole sermon. I had light conversations with strangers. And th
Today was my first day after finishing my classes. In celebration of my new freedom... I cleaned my room. At first, that was okay, but towards the end, I thought more depressed. But I didn't want to stop until I was finished, either. Then later in the afternoon, I thought, maybe I should go ahead and sign up for another summer class; I'm just not too good with free time. I think part of it is the drop-dead-date effect, when I have a due date I work towards, and then afterwards, everything should be so much better. Why, I shouldn't even feel the depression, especially since I'm curently thinking that my medication might be helping it. Unfortunately, depression doesn't just vanish for me, not yet. This evening, one of my tires was really low, as in, I could tell it was more than OCD this time. But I went and filled it up, and here is the exciting thing; I was able to use the tool that measures the tire pressure! I had given up on my ability to use it, since I al