unreasonably rational

Well, I've tried twice, but the photo is not uploading. But it is of my new mini fridge. Only the new one is bigger than my old one. And most important of all, it has a separate door for the freezer. For the first time in over two years, I can buy frozen food and actually expect to keep it frozen! My old one had a tiny freezer compartment within the fridge, but it froze parts of the refrigerator while permitting part off the freezer to thaw out. Thus, it was only good for things that didn't HAVE to stay frozen for food safety reasons.  So that is my happy news. On the mental health front, I have to "baby" myself. At least that is how it feels. This poor brain here does fine sometimes, but other times the tears come. Which is interesting because it has been a while since I've cried this much. And frustrating because I find myself needing help. Needing the extra hug. Needing to cry with a friend. Very annoyed at needing my friends, but also very grateful to have

Wow have I been neglecting my blog. I did see my psychiatrist. He raised the dose of one medication. Since then, I've sometimes felt better and I've other times wondered how I could be so extremely tired and yet still exist and get to work and do my job. I switched to taking the higher dose of the ssri in the evening instead of the morning, and that helped at first. But then I took vacation time from work. Which was really special because I got to help my sister out with her new baby. But my brain out of it's schedule? Not good. So the depression and anxiety increased. Especially when I found house fly maggots in my guinea pig cage. Eww, gross! The worst, though, was thinking that my procrastination in cleaning my guinea pig's cage had put my pet in this situation (which could - but most likely wouldn't - be life threatening to the pig). So my anxiety had a hay day (however you spell that). My counselor asked, didn't I know my anxiety was going to the extrem

Perhaps you've heard the saying about wishing babies/children came with a manual. I would like a manual for my own life. Why am i exhausted? How depressed am i really? Is the naturopathic route for me, or am i pouring money down the drain? How much does it matter which brand of fish oil and multivitamins and probiotics i take? I know the naturopathic doctor doesnt think there is any interaction problem with thesehomeopathic remedies, but is there? One of the (regular, not naturopathic) medications he prescribed that i take two of (and then no more) actually may interact with Seroquel; and even the pharmasist wouldnt have figured that out if i hadnt specifically asked if I could take it at the same time of evening as i take Seroquel. (It could practically make the Seroquel stronger, an effect i wasnt tooworried about.) I finally, at the urging of my counselor, called my psychiatrist's office to see if I could get in earlier. It feels like defeat; I'm finally admitting that

My recent (as in, the last few months) increase in depression led to talking with friends, which this time led to the suggestion of going to a naturopathic Dr, not to necessarily to replace my psychiatrist and primary care provider, but merely to try another angle in addition to what I have tried. So this time, I did. The visit was nice and long (over an hour), which was very nice. He also did some kind of testing where he tested my muscle strength in one hand while having me hold a container in the other hand. This was fascinating because with some containers he could easily pull my thumb and ring finger appart while with a few, I could actually keep my fingers together. I was impressed. I accepted the remedy he mixed up and took my first dose that night. If you are bored, keep reading, because it gets more interesting. The paperwork instructions told me to be very observant of how my body responded in the next 48 hours, and to continue with the same dose or change it based on my re

I switched to teaching 3-year-olds. It is going pretty well. I am enjoying working with slightly older kids, working on name recognition and doing parts of crafts that I didn't let my toddlers do (like squeezing out the glue to stick wings on the space rocket). Admittedly, I still had a hand on the bottle most of the time... It is so important to let the kids do art themselves and not to "fix" it for them, but the perfectionist in me is hard pressed sometimes to let things turn out differently than I had planned. But it has been good. But my life stress level has definitely bumped up a notch. And the depression thinking is kicking into gear. It is like a fever, or throwing up, or coughing. It means I'm sick with a mental illness. No problem; I know how to deal with that. As long as I don't freak out. Here is my one paragraph lament; I never wanted to feel this way again! What if it gets worse? I hate depression! Okay, now that is done. But I think I will c

Perhaps you've heard the acronym HALT - Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. I would add Stressed and Sick to it. But currently, mine would be more like HLTS, hungry, lonely, tired, stressed. And annoyed, because I told my counselor when I saw her nearly two weeks ago that the way things are going, I should be depressed again in two weeks and fine in a month. I'm annoyed because it turns out I was right. But why? Hungry - my schedule got mixed up, working late on Wednesday and Thursday and then staying up late (like I'm doing right now) with the weekend, which is longer, so I am more messed up. Tired, for the same reasons, plus not being able to fall asleep last night when I wanted to at midnight (which probably explains my extreme hesitance towards going to bed tonight even though I really, really need sleep. Lonely. It is a long weekend. And I keep eying people's babies with a bit of jealously. I want my own baby. But I don't get that right now. I get my kids at work

Well, I've got two things to say. The first is, despite how much psych meds seem to have helped me (after all, it is pretty hard to prove exactly what medication or therapy is responsible for what improvement), and despite my knowing others who have benefited from psych medication, and despite all I've read that supports psych medication, I still struggle when I come up against anti-medication proponents. Could I be this healthy without medication? Could I have white-knuckled it back to health? Should I have? Should I stand only on ERP, exposing myself to misery so that I can be happy? And not just on a few things but on everything OCD has ever thrown my way, with all the strength it had pre-medication? It is tiring even to think of it. And the answer? Who knows. I've chosen to include the medication route in my treatment. It isn't always easy. Then again, it can work great. But I am happy now, and that counts for something. It counts for a lot. People say, you wont

Need I say more? Of course, I will say more anyway. :)  See that big building in the background? All dedicated to Early Childhood Education and Research? (Hear the undercurrent that hints of a future quest for a Master's degree? But not yet!)  One of my favorite pictures due to the beautiful mountains, but not quite my favorite due to the tassel still being on the un-graduated side.  My sister drove up and I drove down and we met in the middle far from either of our homes at the college I attended from a 10 or more hour drive away (online).  I just can't stick to traditional poses. And I'm pretty sure the sun was bright. After I had lost my tassel. I wasn't ready to wear my hat in this picture without my tassel. That was too sad. Speaking of the lost tassel, we walked way too long looking for it. I was not dressed for a long walk. And we didn't find it. But while we are still on the tassel subject, since that seems to be a main theme, and becaus

Last night, I looked around my home and thought, here it is, my sad preschool teacher (in my case toddler teacher) existence. And so I took pictures of it for you. I am not a cat lady. I only have a guinea pig. Instead, I'm a teacher of little kids. And I spend my money accordingly. Well, maybe I should spend it less, but I do spend it fairly consistently with what I care about. So this, my friend, is what a single lady toddler teacher's studio apartment might look like, down to the mess. I use most of my cleaning impulses up at work. Toys, toys everywhere and not a drop to drink, to misquote Samuel Taylor Coleridge. This (the cars, people, and animals) is most of the result of one of my larger thrift store purchases. You know my kiddos will be thrilled to play with the cars. At least the ones they consider cool, which should be most of them. But where shall I store them in my tiny apartment? Meanwhile, they are like a constant OCD trigger (I could call them an exposure,

Well, my friends, life has gotten better. Who knows if my migraines were scheduled to fade, or if cooking and eating ground beef for several days together, or if drinking water from a mold-free water bottle, or backing off chocolate, or answered prayer, or all or some of these resulted in the migraines leaving, but they have left. I still get the start of them, or something like them but not as strong, or a weaker version of them, but oh so much better. And remarkably enough, simultaneously, I have regained (for the most part) my ability to fall asleep pretty normally instead of having to listen to the radio to distract my mind from it's rat race etc. Thus, I have been sleeping more and eating better (until my ground beef sloppy joe mix ran out Thursday). And feeling much, much better. I tend to feel much better when I'm sleeping better, and if I feel worse and add not sleeping, that is just tough. And I've read enough transcripts this semester to change my writing st

Recently, I've been getting these headaches that one doctor once called migraines. They have been usually hitting about an hour or two before I need to get up in the morning, waking me up. Then I take over-the-counter medication, eat something (in case hunger is part of the problem), and try to fall back asleep, which, thankfully, has been mostly working. The thing is, even with falling back to sleep, it is interrupting my sleep, leaving me extra tired. Being extra tired is like sending an invitation to the OCD and depression monsters. Not to mention plain old stress. The plain old stress in a particular situation had me breaking down at work. Just one day. And the people were nice about it. But it was a red flag warning that I need more rest. Then there is budgeting. Who likes budgeting? But the problem for me is that OCD/depression/cognitive distortions jump it. Thus, budgeting falls into the category of things that are a tad risky for me. More dangerous things include fastin

Today was a tearful day. Not my tears. Toddler tears in the classroom. Did you know that dealing with a child's strong emotions is emotionally exhausting? A child upset about something - I don't even always know what. But some parts of the day just have to happen, whether the child likes it or not. But feeling empathy for my students, well sometimes it's just hard. Then there are the disagreements that don't involve tears. The very subtle disagreements. Like when I'm thinking, you are going to take a nap, as I rub a child's back. And the child fights as long as possible to keep his or her eyes open. Really? Just go to sleep. Pleeeeeease! You need the sleep. You're body is ready to sleep. I need you to sleep! There are, of course, wonderful moments. Reading books to children who are interested. The toddler who brings over the toy whale and talks about Jonah (a Jonah and the whale story is rather popular with the class right now). The toddler who gives up

Do I have the flu? Do I not have the flu. Is the nausea from stress and anxiety? Or is it the dreaded stomach bug? If I go to work tomorrow, will I get sick and have to go back home? Would it turn out that I should have called in? If I call in sick, what if I'm not sick? Not to mention how work would probably be short staffed because of the lovely bug going around. But if I go, will I spread the bug to other people? You would think I could move past it. I've been wondering for the past 24 hours, except between 3am and 11:30 am because at 3 I decided I wouldn't go to church so I could sleep in. Oh, well. Now I've gotten caught up in a tv show. That might help. :)

Well, it is late and my brain isn't working superbly, but I'll go ahead and try to write anyway. Because I want to. Recently, for whatever reasons, probably including being sick and cloudy weather, I had an anxiety and depression flare-up. It is dying down now. And it is a relief to see that. There are still extra sparks, like right now, my staying up this late (although it is a Friday night, so that isn't so far off). Or my having trouble getting myself to eat supper (put it off too long, so it got harder). But there are also signs of returning to normal. My house is slowly getting cleaner. I've almost inspired myself to clean my guinea pig's cage. I actually spent 23 minutes exercising at the gym yesterday. And then there are the tools that are out because I needed them again. My lists of "5 good things" that I sometimes write every day. My mental health blog. Seeing my counselor this week. And there are the reminders; I had wanted to see my coun

I saw the new Doctor. My opinion has been put on hold while I do some checking. She recommended - very strongly - a test. I agreed, then waffled, then agreed... And did a lot of research. I like to know my facts. Which, of course, boil down to probabilities, not black and white, if you want to be really, really precise. Which, of course, I do. So finally, I decided to take the test because I didn't think there was any other way to shut my brain up. (Best reason ever for Exposure Therapy, by the way.) But even that decision had to be checked. Do I feel good about it? Yes. Good. Now, let's check again. Do I still feel good about this decision? Yes? Ah, very good. Set up appointment. Did I feel relieved? Yes. Good. Do I still feel relieved? Yes. How wonderful. Do I still feel good about it (the decision, I mean)? Yes. But if I keep asking myself, chances are I will at some point answer that I'm not feeling so good about it. And I'm big on knowing facts like pro

I've wondered what the psych doctor at the hospital wrote in my charts. But I've never actually gone to read them. Until today, when I was looking through my previous primary care provider's file for me (they gave me an electronic copy so that I could pass it on to my next primary care provider, and said I could make myself a copy...). This would only be the summary. And it was interesting. And it supported my suspician. My first psychiatrist seemed to have preconceived notions about me. He also seemed to view me out of his particular lens. A lens that said my problems were largely just coping skills. That I had very deficient coping skills and was struggling to live on my own after living at home. And that I had borderline traits. He seemed a bit stuck on that due to my having a relative that he treated who had borderline personality disorder. And then there is me from that time. The agreeable me. If a counselor said, you might be having trouble living on your own; it

It's a Friday night, and I can't quite bring myself to not stay up late. Silly, really, and I even know it. But oh, well. Only, I should go to sleep soon, because I'm supposed to be somewhere by noon tomorrow, however I first need to take my car to the shop. It took up making this absolutely horrible sound whenever I put on the brakes. Which still braked, so don't panic. It just sounded really bad. So I plan to actually get up early (i.e. on time) tomorrow to see if I can get it fixed. But I just remembered that I have neither oatmeal nor cereal for breakfast. Terrible. Anyway, I really did have a point. The informal OCD blogging community has been discussing wording, stigma, and mental illness. So I thought I'd chime in. When a noun that labels a psychiatric disorder is used as an adjective, it seems to me it is usually being used in the casual, careless way. "You are crazy." "That's crazy." "Crazy kid." In my experience

There seem to be some mysteries in life. Things that I'm just not going to completely understand at this point. I might just barely understand them, if even that. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like a few answers spelled out with mathematical clarity. My small group at church decided to go through a book about the Holy Spirit. Not the Bible, though, just one of those books where a guy tries to express what he thinks the Bible says on the subject. Perhaps you already know my skepticism regarding Bible teachers. Well, that flared a bit. But it wasn't so much that specifically. I was afraid the book would make me upset. And it did. I got a good cry in last night. Not even so much from what the book said as from what it reminded me of. I remembered how I felt some church people around me had terribly failed me. Not on purpose. I presume most of them were trying to help, and I appreciate that. But I remember being so far down, that spot where you are hanging on by

I call this a drawn out exposure because I consider any exposure lasting more than 5 to 15 minutes to be long and drawn out. In case you wondered how long I generally engage in an exposure, now you know. Today, I went shopping. After working on a budget last night, which technically I haven't necessarily blown yet, although I'm close to the edge in a category or few. At first, I made it through the dollar store only purchasing one thing. Then through Walmart only purchasing two things, my internet pass for the next two months, and a pair of leggings. Then I went on a hunt for boots. Perhaps I should let you in on the fact that my aunt gave me a shirt, but it didn't quite fit, so I returned it to the store here locally, and found a Tshirt and a little dress for less than the original sale shirt (that is why I like 70 - 90% off things... and chance, that I found those two items). Well, that was sort of risky buying those (I have OCDish anxiety about shopping that I'll

Well, here it is, New Year's Day. It feels like I should write a post on my goals for the new year. Or write why I don't make New Year's Resolutions. It seems that the options are perhaps equally acceptable, if Facebook comments and shares are any indication. Why don't I like to make New Year's Resolutions? Because they fire up my guilt-producing machine. You know, the one that OCD has fun with. I'm guilty because I don't budget my money (or because I don't budget it better). I'm guilty because I ate too much for supper (never mind that I was forever hungry all day until then, even though I kept eating). I'm guilty because... Oh, really? Well, actually , I cleaned my apartment today. My sister from a few states away was visiting and we had our day together, or afternoon together. Which was lovely. And which inspired my house cleaning. I even made it all the way to cleaning out my car. I give myself gold stars for all that. And the time with