OCD as a purple monster


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My merry-go-round

I've been keeping a mood log since sometime last May, or maybe June. I've done it on the OpenOffice software similar to Excel. This means I can do cool stuff like make charts and graphs to see how my mood has swooped around over the last year. This last week, I found that you can also put in a trend line over your chart. This was neat, but disturbing. I used it over charts made from week averages for the last 10 or 11 months. I learned that: My depression at its best (each day, then averaged per week) is getting better. My depression at its worst (each day, then averaged per week) is getting worse. My anxiety is getting worse. My sleep time is increasing. My exercise time is decreasing. Or, in short, my worst is getting worse. So then I wonder if I'm using the same standards to judge my mood as I was using in May last year. After all, the mood ratings are subjective, done each day, or occasionally every few days. But what if anxiety that I called a 5 in May would be
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OCD meddling in my education (again)

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What do you know, the insert picture function thingy is working today! Hence my photo not taking over more of the blog than it should. Today, if OCD were little g gods, I would have offended the gods. Actually, I did it last night. Thank you so much, professor, for giving OCD the opportunity to knock me to my knees. I'll have you know, however, that I am making some small show of resistance. Which I will explain. This is what I did. I did the communication screen with a little kid as per the instructions. Then, looking over it at home, I thought I missed something, so proceeded to correct something to say how the child actually pronounced it, not how I forgot and left it. And then the monster pounced. Because, being an hour or so removed from the situation, I no longer knew for absolute certain how the child said that word anymore. But I had just struck through the assumed mispronounced sound. So do I go all the way a
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Time to add a therapist?

It was great to see my counselor today. I thought I was having a pretty good day, but still ended up crying during my appointment. "And this is me on a good day," I told her. But she said, "No, I've seen you on a good day, and this is not it." I guess she was right. Especially since I often don't cry during appointments. Anyway, I also talked with my psychiatrist on the phone on Tuesday, and we have it settled so that I'll take a higher dose for part of the month and then go back to my regular SSRI dose for the rest of the month and see if that helps even out my rollercoaster. I did show my blogged "letter" to my doctor to my therapist, and she told me to mail it to my doctor. Except that she said I should clarify the ending. Apparently when I wrote that I was running out of time (meaning my allotted time on the library computer was just about up and the computer would soon shut me off), it sounded too much like I was running out of time he
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