Mood Disorder, Not Otherwise Specified

diagnosed bipolar and pissed about it

Category: Depression

dia de los muertos

the last day of our first workshop was upon us.  linda was back, so she taught the last day of classes.  by then, i had relinquished the idea that the students would get as much out of the workshop as i put into it.  linda hadn’t prepared the materials.  she hadn’t engrossed herself in the topic like i had.  even though i had presented all of this information in our u.s. trial run, most of the details were glossed over, meaning that students missed out on a lot of the applicability and integration of the subject matter that i had built in to the “curriculum”.

thor didn’t seem to mind.  he didn’t mention it; in fact, he said the presentation was great.  i’m not sure why; there was so much missing, educationally.  it felt like a sham.

i felt frustrated.  i had spent so many hours working to make the course seamless.  in the midst of the end of term clusterfuck, i still pulled together an awesome course with cross-referencing materials…the whole enchilada.  i didn’t sleep a few nights, but i fucking pulled it off.

in other words, my work was going unrecognized and that pissed me off.  i had set the bar high and met it, but clearly i could have done a lot less and it would have been just as well.  i could have slept, maybe.

we called it a day early because the next day we were getting up bright and early to go visit some women in a poor town.  these were abused women, which thor seemed to take lightly but i knew i wouldn’t be able to.  after some reflection, i decided to tell him that the experience could upset me because of my early environment.  i didn’t go into detail.  he seemed surprised to find this out, but said it was fine and that i could leave if i wanted to.  but that i should still go if i wanted to collect any data using this “sample”.

suit yourself, thor.  i’ll give it a whirl.

we woke early and got ready.  the mexicans were late to pick us up, as usual.  the ride was long, over an hour.  i wasn’t prepared for the level of despair i was about to see.

the town was, by far, the most dilapidated collection of “buildings” i’d ever seen.  god had clearly abandoned this place long ago.  it was like a ghost town.  the people, like rats, scurried to and fro, quickly hiding within buildings.  it was apparently not safe to remain outside long.  old, worn, dejected faces stared without expression, eyes vacuous, as we rode by slowly in the van.

we arrived at some kind of compound.  it was completely surrounded by a tall fence, completely covered by graffiti, and we had to wait for the gatekeepers to let us in.  the little compound turned out to be some kind of school.  young children in uniforms darted around.  a few older women with painted on smiles greeted us.  i accidentally used the informal “you” in my introduction.  the smiles disappeared.

we walked into an old classroom, empty but for the group we’d been teaching and a few of the women.  no abused women yet.  i scouted out the joint for a seat with an easy exit, just in case.  but when the old audio system was set up, i realized i wouldn’t be able to hear from the back of the room so i picked one in front, off to the side.  slowly women trickled in.  i felt my stomach turn.  in each of them i felt and saw my own experience.  there was nothing physical about their appearance that would cause this; i was merely projecting my experience on to them.  i saw one man come in too, and thought, yikes, how many ways could this go wrong?  i’d assumed he might be one of the abusers, coming in to see what ideas these outsiders were putting in the womens’ heads.  i have no idea if that was actually the case, and i didn’t like that i’d thought that way about a perfect stranger.  but i knew i was off center in this whole thing, so i let it slide.

finally thor began to speak.  he asked first who’d been involved in an abusive relationship, or who’d had parents who were abusive.  almost all of the hands shot up, and that’s when the tears started.

i tried to hold it together, but they came in a steady stream.  i tried to stifle my sniffs and turn my face away.  women in the room saw me crying and were expressionless.  their glances passed over me without indication or acknowledgement.  instead, they listened intently to my advisor’s questions, and were more than willing to share their own experiences, through tears.  their voices were filled with so much desperation, so much need for help or guidance, plagued by pain and hopelessness.

but we weren’t there for help or guidance.  we were there so we could put on our little scientist hats and collect data.  what a fucking sham.

i made it 30, maybe 45 minutes, before i realized i was just sinking.  i couldn’t stop the tears, and i’d felt myself leave the room and go into a void.  i couldn’t process, i couldn’t translate.  i could only hear pain.  i left the room.

i went back to the van and sat and stared.  my mind was blank; i felt empty.  linda came out and sat with me.  i didn’t feel like talking so i just didn’t.  i didn’t care that she felt uncomfortable in the silence; her presence was more of a nuisance than anything, not of any fault of her own.  i was just in a dark place.  i went to the back of the van and laid down on my stomach, staring at the floor.  linda got out of the van and started talking to some of the school children.  i continued staring at the floor.

a long time passed.  finally, the “meeting” was over, and the van door slid open and i could hear thor asking where i was.  i mumbled something to indicate my location.  people started loading into the van and i realized i had to get up.  the kids we’d been teaching climbed in; i gave them the same vacuous expression offered by the townspeople.  i didn’t speak and was only looking forward to returning to the hotel and hiding under a blanket for the rest of the day.

as it would turn out, we had a full day ahead of us before we’d return to the hotel.  i came to understand this through bits and pieces of the conversation.  they wanted to take us to some archaeological site nearby.  i didn’t give a fuck, but we were over an hour away from the hotel, so i didn’t really have a choice.  we went to the dig.  i got out of the car just to get some fresh air, and walked around like an empty shell.  i climbed the side of a pyramid and sat on a corner overlooking the town, which i discovered was actually an extremely large city spanning an entire valley and up a mountain across the way.  i saw a lot of gilded domes.  churches.  these people were gonna need god to survive this mess.

finally, we got back in the van and i hoped we were returning to the hotel then.  instead, we drove through the town and came upon a huge crowd of children filling the streets.  school had gotten out.  it was a sea of people, and we crawled through slowly.  old merchants sold trinkets and candy to the kids.  it must have been the most lucrative time to open up shop.

the sliding door opened again.  a few people got out and i breathed easier for the space.  but then, the students we’d been teaching started getting in.  they filled the seats beyond capacity and loaded into the back and filled the floor.  i was squeezed tight between the side of the van and another student.  i started to feel claustrophobic, but again, i was an hour away from the hotel so i didn’t really have a choice.

i gathered from bits and pieces again that we were not returning to the hotel, but instead going to visit the city center.  i placated myself by imagining the hotel room.  i felt my pj’s on, lying on a pillow in cool air conditioned air with headphones on and some random show passing over my retinas.  when i came back to, i was still a sardine and we were heading into traffic.  so now i was a sardine in a van that was a sardine in traffic.  i couldn’t breathe.

i don’t know if you’ve ever experienced traffic in mexico city but it is despicable.  the van was old and the air conditioning couldn’t compete with the 15 hot bodies inside.  it was so hot i wanted to peel my skin off.  i started to sweat.  now i was a sardine in a van in a microwave.  i got very close to screaming and launching myself over four people to get out of the van.  i closed my eyes and practiced my breathing exercises.  this is temporary, this is transient.  it won’t be this way forever.

finally we arrived at the city center.  i had to get out of the van so we could walk around.  i was suddenly in the middle of a huge metropolis.  we passed by fancy restaurants and boutiques, filled with shiny and expensive things.  i felt offended.  the juxtaposition of such despair with such extravagance was painful and disgusting.  we walked into a restaurant.  i walked straight back into the bathroom and tried the door.  it didn’t open.  i stood there, mind blank, face empty for probably 7 minutes before someone came out and i realized i just hadn’t used the knob correctly.  i walked in and saw in the mirror that my shirt was inside out.  i don’t know when that happened.  i was a mess.

i went out and sat at a large round table.  there was a brief, few minute period of respite before a live musician began to play.  the sound was disproportionately loud for the space.  the music notes filled the empty space in my head and i couldn’t escape.  maria sat near me and turned to me.  she said, in her broken english, that she was so sorry for my experience.  she said her students are trained for a full year before even getting to interact with these women and i’d gone in with no training and a history that made the experience hit too close to home and she felt terrible.  she, too, had a similar experience growing up and she, too, leaves and cries for having seen it again.  tears welled up in her eyes, and then tears welled up in my eyes and i felt her pain and she felt mine and we kind of cried there together in the middle of the table, surrounded by 15 other people going about their conversations.  i decided to try to snap out of it on her behalf.  so i put my fucking game face on and swept my dissociative state under the rug.  i’d have to deal with that later.

the day continued.  we walked around and i made conversation with the students; i think most of them had grown to like me, and that feeling congealed when i made some smart-ass comment in spanish in the giant church in the city center.  i don’t remember what it was; i only remember them choking on laughter with looks that said “THIS gringa!”

i don’t recall much about the rest of the day.  i was depleted.  i went to bed, and awoke early again the next day for our visit to the giant pyramids an hour and a half away.  it was our “play day” and by that time, we deserved one.


friday night lites


(that’s me, practicing my rolling r’s, because i’m going to mexico in a week)

sorry i haven’t been around for a while.  my abandoning hope about learning anything new about my bipolar diagnosis for a very, very long time has unfortunately been accompanied by my abandoning this blog.

that, and a lot of work.  ’cause you know, i’m actually productive these days.  which is a blessing and a curse, because i’m productive, but i also feel this crazy anxiety that depression could creep up on me at any moment and take all my success away.

anyway, this isn’t why i’m posting.  i’ll try to post a more meaningful, mental health related post after work settles down.  sometime in july…

the reason i’m posting is because a friend just texted me about the new blog entry at Hyperbole and a Half…part 2 to the infamous depression post, and it made me think of you.  🙂

here is the link to the post, in all its shining glory:


the sting of rejection – or lithium withdrawal

i have successfully compelled psychiatrist numero tres to let me eliminate lithium from my daily regimen.  i went down to 300 mg in december-ish and stopped taking that this past tuesday.

i have noticed what appears to be a downswing in my mood corresponding with these time periods.  in december, i kept an eye on it but also kept in mind that i was dealing with far too much stress and work to distinguish between depressive-symptoms-due-to-work versus depressive-symptoms-due-to-less-lithium.  regardless of what the case may have been, my mood bounced back in full force once winter session started and i had a moderate breather.

now i am also experiencing depressive symptoms, and since the lithium is expected to be out of my system completely by saturday, its depleted levels may be taking a toll.  alternatively, my mood may be the combination of a very long, very productive, but very busy week, plus the sting of rejection from the aforementioned “soul mate” a few posts ago.

i have to admit, i was pretty excited at the prospect of dating this person.  we seemed to have a lot in common (enough to sustain several hours long conversations, anyway), i thought he was attractive, smart, etc.  things seemed to be going well until i dropped him off last thursday and i had this sinking feeling that he wouldn’t be asking me out again.

backing up.  the week we started talking, we spent two hours texting, followed by two and a half hours on the phone.  that was followed up by intermittent texting during the week.  saturday rolled around and i went out with some friends.  i admit, the second place we went was influenced by an eensy weensie suspicion that eharmony-guy might show up there.  incidentally, i was right.

i was playing air hockey and i saw him come in the door out of the corner of my eye.  i didn’t dare look directly, but i just knew it was him.  my adrenaline soared.  i played it cool for a while, but when i walked by him i noticed he was kind of staring at me so i smiled and kept going.  under no circumstances was i going to approach him; that’s against “the rules”.

this happened several times.  when i was on the dance floor with my friends, i noticed him off to the side, looking at me.  he was “on his phone” but who the hell talks on their phone next to the dance floor?  yeah right.

he finally came and stood right in front of my friends and i, and took a couple of drags off of his electronic cigarette. once that happened i was 100% sure it was him.  he was just standing there alone but i still wasn’t about to go up to him (besides the rules, i was so unbelievably giddy that i would have made an ass out of myself anyway).  his friend came out of no where and whisked him out of the bar.

my friends suggested the next bar, so i don’t have to take responsibility for the fact that he was also there, too.  again, when i looked at him, he was kind of staring at me so i smiled and kept going.  sadly, he never approached me in person.

but…around 1am he texted “was that you?” and we had a little back-and-forth about why one didn’t approach the other.  i was drunk and i probably texted too much, but it didn’t stop him from calling me the next day.  we got on the phone for another whole hour, after which he interrupted me to ask if i was hungry and wanted to go to lunch.

forgetting any “rules” ever existed in the history of mankind, i agreed to go on a spontaneous lunch date.  it went really well.  i knew he was still interested because he texted me later that night “about a video game” we both played.  we then moved on to e-cigarettes, and he called me to give me the deets on how to get one (they are quite good!).  he also offered to go with me after he got off work to get the liquid you put in the e-cigarette.

monday, he added me to facebook.  i’m not even going to go in to the degree of facebook stalking i did, but let me just say it was shameful.  i did, however, discover that eharmony-guy is a poet, and writes some really racy stuff.  the first time i read one of his poems, i literally froze in space for like 20 minutes, followed by an hour of pacing and trying to get myself back to work.  i failed, and said poem became my fantasy du jour for a few days.

we got together on thursday to head to the e-cig shop.  it was fine, although i noticed he was a bit distant-ish.  i was extremely nervous though, and i think it showed.  i left most of the direction of the conversation to him and he asked how my day was twice, showed me around the shop, but really the conversation was pretty minimal.  i dropped him off, thanked him for coming with me, and he told me to let him know if i had any questions about the e-cig and associated accoutrements.

since then: radio silence.  i’ve had to keep myself jam-packed and still i’ve felt like pulling my hair out, hoping he’d ask me out this weekend.  i was good and followed the (goddamn) rules.  by yesterday i had begun to accept the possibility that “he’s just not that into me” when my friend and fellow rules conspirator confessed she’d broken down and texted her guy.

it never fails…whenever a comrade-in-crime gives in a little, all of my resolve goes out the window too.  i gave in and “liked” his profile picture, which was taken the night we “met” but didn’t actually meet.  in fairness, i exploited the fact that he had recently posted a status update so it could appear as if “i saw it for the first time” on my newsfeed.

speculation abounds as to why i’ve been rejected.  i’ve got a couple of reasonable hypotheses, all while bearing in mind that i really have no answer at all, nor will i ever.  some possibilities include that i was way too nervous to be sexually attractive.  i have a pretty strong sexual presence, but if i’m nervous, forget it.  it also could have been something about my facebook page. in particular, i suspect it may have been the old album of pictures of my ex and his family.  he did mention the “short” lapse between the end of that relationship and signing on to a serious dating website the first time we talked.

whatever it was, it really doesn’t matter because the outcome is the same.  i’m processing rejection from a dating prospect for the first time in a long time.  it’s disappointing and frustrating and aggravating and i keep wanting to scream, hello, i’m awesome and we should go on a freaking date!  (and then make out while you read your poetry to me)

it turns out that anything resembling psychotic behavior (such as that which i’ve already displayed here) is definitely against the rules, so my inclinations are definitely out of the picture.  i’ve coped so far by filling my days to the brim, getting to the gym every day, talking to friends, family, and getting more work done than i have in months, but i found myself sitting here this friday evening just feeling kind of down despite the massively successful week i’ve had otherwise.

(although to be fair, it has waned a bit since i’ve gotten this off my chest)

so thank you bipolar-blog-diary-dealie.  if it weren’t for you, i’d be an awfully scary human being.


the fat suit

i’ve been gaining weight since i started taking lithium in may.  7 months later and i am wearing a full blown fat suit, with 20 lbs added on my frame.  most of my clothes don’t fit and i’m uncomfortable in my skin.  in order to feel sexy, i have to get completely decked out; otherwise, forget about it.  i don’t want to take pictures and i refuse to have some people see me like this.

i’m really disgusted with myself, and in order to make any changes, i have to dedicate time and energy to implementing my no sugar-no flour diet.  i haven’t had the time or space to do that, and i won’t really for another few weeks.  in the mean time, i keep punishing myself with food, which feeds further into the disgust and the cycle gets worse.

i’m down to one pair of jeans…from two only a few weeks ago.  a pair of shorts that fit me two weeks ago is strained over my waist and thighs now (in fairness, i made the mistake of putting them in the dryer rather than air drying them like usual).

this extra weight is not just physical.  it’s emotionally heavy too, and i feel pretty low all the time because of it.  i can sense it all the time, and it’s this constant burden in the back (or often, in the forefront) of my mind.

interestingly, despite perceiving myself as an utter failure, lard-ass, fat, disgusting pig, other people do not seem to share this opinion.  i’ve had people expressing interest in me without fail any time i go out.  strangely this even happens when i’m not all decked out.  unfortunately, because of my self-perception, i’m less inclined to reciprocate anything.

it’s been an exercise in self-compassion.  i gave myself the semester to get back into functional mode, and swore i would deal with the fat when i had successfully returned to something resembling normality.  i often have to remind myself that i have permission to be this way, that a lot of factors influenced where i am now, many of which were out of my control, and that it’s acceptable, given what i’ve been through this year.

but i can’t lie.  i will cry tears of joy as i shed this weight.  as the constant feeling of fatness wanes and as i am able to fit into my clothes again.  as i feel increasingly comfortable in social situations and in less and less clothing.  as my sex drive increases with every pound lost and i’m happy to be naked and free, and comfortable at the prospect of actually having sex–on top, with the lights on, for as long as i like.

it will take work.  i have to plan out meals for every day over a span of about 2 months (my estimate of how long it will take to get back to my old weight), go grocery shopping regularly and prepare and freeze meals, not drink or go out to eat, and get regular exercise.  once i get back into it, it will come off easily.  last year i lost 16 lbs in a month and a half or less using this exact regimen.  it was a glorious, unbelievable experience and i’m looking forward to doing it again.

and again, i’ll promise myself that i will never get like this again.  it’s just that this time, i’m much more aware of the factors that lead me to gain weight.  lithium, for one.  depression, for two. if i can moderate or eliminate those factors, then i should be able to keep my promise.

my primary goal is to remain emotionally stable, which is one reason i’m taking a vacation from dating.  besides the fact that i’m fat and disgusting.  🙂

family circus

so, i’m not really stellar right now.  i’ve been trying to evaluate the factors that might be contributing to my dullish demeanor.  there are some likely suspects:

  • i’ve been extremely stressed out the last few weeks as i finished up the semester and had to prepare for my winter course.
  • my diet has been less than nutritional
  • i’ve not gotten enough exercise
  • i’m fat
  • i decreased my lithium dosage and stopped taking prozac
  • my family is a literal shit-show

five out of six of these are subject to change and i have reasonable control over them.  the last one, not so much.

i’ve come to visit home for the holidays.  for the first time in nearly a year.  let me give you a nice little window into my family dynamics.

first, my immediate family has either been completely obliterated or hungover any time i’ve seen them.  my mother was available for all of 24 hours and left to northern california before christmas.  clearly, getting some alone time with her boyfriend was more important than spending time with me or anyone else in the family.  my sister is caught up in her own life, is relatively unavailable to connect with, and her priorities don’t really include me…the first thing my aunt said to me when she saw me is, “are you pregnant?”…and my grandmother’s first response to seeing me was, “if you think i’m happy to see you, think again”.

with family like that, who needs enemies?

grey skies

moody mcmooderson checking in here.

the skies are grey and so am i.  just bleh.  my house is no longer clean and i haven’t exercised since last week.  i’ve made sugar cookies in spite of my no flour, no sugar diet.  twice.

the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

i believe my mood is a result of my misplaced effort to integrate social interaction into my lifestyle.  i’ve been successful in being social, but the experiences leave me dull.  complacent.  unmotivated.

i think a big part of it is alcohol.  which makes me sad.  in the last week, i’ve been “social” 3 times.  after each night on the town, i’ve been incapable of doing anything but playing Draw Something on my phone.  i’ve got over 20 games going right now.

it’s not even that i’m drinking too much.  the effect is present whether i’ve had 3 drinks or 10.  i’m also not a big fan of the interaction of alcohol with my meds.  i can’t remember much of anything.  it’s almost a guaranteed “black out”, even when i felt fully cognizant and aware of my surroundings at the time.

and my diminished mood makes it easy for sad feelings to take over.  negative self-talk speaks louder.  feelings of missing my ex are stronger.  i feel like doing the healthy things less and less.  it’s a vicious cycle.

i keep trying to go to sleep and wake up to a “new” day.  but then i just turn on L&O and open up Draw Something, and hope that the next day will be different.

for the record, i know i’m going to have to be the catalyst in changing my mood.  it’s just that today is not going to be that day.

checking in with myself

my house is so clean. in fact, i don’t think i’ve ever lived in a cleaner house.

somewhere along the line, i figured out that cleaning is ah-MAY-ziiiing therapy.  i just flip on Law & Order and let it play while i get to work.  before i know it, my laundry is done, folded, and put away; my dishes are clean and/or put away; counters scrubbed, floors swept, furniture dusted, papers organized, food prepped, cooked, and frozen…you get the idea.

there are two motivations running parallel here.

one, my home is my sanctuary.  i walk into my home and it makes me feel happy and comfortable.  i feel at peace and i can think when i don’t have a big mess.

two, cleaning is great distraction.  i’m even looking for things to clean.  like today, i cleaned the lids on my trash and recycling bins.  the lids.

a clean house.  regular exercise.  keeping up with work.  connecting with friends.

is it just me, or am i getting my life back?  🙂


how is it that i spent months dreaming about something, and when it finally came, all i got was this lousy searing pain?

why didn’t i anticipate the magnitude of the loss and the absence?

how can anger and feelings of injustice be so blown out of proportion that i am blind to all else?

i considered taking it back today.  but he’s better off.

i’m toxic.

virtual love doctor

March 21, 2012

The anxiety subsided today.  I made a point to avoid drinking coffee, and it seemed to work.  Still, I’m uneasy.  The reason today?  I am starting to feel uncomfortable that you haven’t really talked to me this week.  Who am I kidding.  I’ve been uncomfortable for days.  And it’s only Wednesday!  I swear, I’m neurotic.  With you, I’m vulnerable.  I was thinking about it this week, and it would really, really tear me to pieces if we break up.  I am completely in love with you and day by day I increasingly think I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

When it’s good, it’s really good.  When it’s bad, it’s hell.  I realize some of my actions have been shit: I hurt you by doing drugs, twice.  And I hurt you when I let you know that there were a couple times I was drunk and someone kissed me (although I stopped it).  I have betrayed trust also, by looking through your phone (although my inclination was correct: you did send the pictures to your cousin).  I don’t even want to begin on last semester… I tried to break up with you, several times.  I was emotionally unstable and a mess when I drank.  It’s horrifying.  How did you stay with me?  Why?  Could you have even known me well enough at the time to know I’m worth it?  Was I just another one of your projects to fix?  Maybe the novelty is wearing off…

I did a google search, because I get love advice from the internet these days… (sigh).  Usually I find a bunch of shit, but one girl gave this response that I want to keep in mind:

“Here’s how the issue breaks down. First, what’s on the surface – he’s upset with something you said. His way of dealing with it is to completely shut you out for a week. You do your due dilligence by contacting him a couple of times and he tells you he’ll contact you. So he knows that you would like to hear from him. There is no need for you to contact him again.

The second issue is how he deals with his feelings of frustration towards you. In a relationship, you have to make a deal about how you are going to deal with conflict. That means that you must negotiate appropriate boundaries in your relationship. Although you would prefer to hash out issues that day, maybe he really needs time to think about his emotions. So you agree to two days of no contact and then it’s his responsibility to call you and iniate conversation. This is the ideal situation.

Instead, he simply takes all the time he wants while you are left in limbo, feeling heartbroken, confused, and frustrated yourself. You don’t deserve to feel this way. You deserve to know what is going on. BUT, the time to take action is not while he is ignoring you. It is either before this happens again or after, when he finally contacts you. If you continue to contact him, you will start to seem desperate and he will take advantage of this – stringing you along further. If you wait, you will show him and yourself that you do have some self control in this and this will be very important for this next issue.

The final issue is that you need to evaluate this relationship. While I noted that you do not need to take action while he’s ignoring you, I simply meant that you don’t need to take action to CONTACT him. I DO think you need to take action in your own mind to really think about what you want and need in this relationship. You need to brace yourself. For a man to do this, you can’t help but wonder if he’s really invested in you or using this as an excuse to do some dirt on the side or simply pulling away from you emotionally. As such I would recommend:

1. Making a list of the pros/cons of this relationship
2. Making a list of the things you will need for this relationship to continue (especially concerning how long he goes without contacting you)
3. Examining the reasons why you contact him so much (journal about it if you need to)
4. Writing out some of the qualities an ideal relationship has for you
5. Comparing your list from #1 to #4
6. Talking to trusted friends and get their perspective on his actions
7. Writing out, right now, how you would feel if he broke up with you. This is hard, but I want you to prepare for this possibility.

This will not only help you keep busy but also help you create a plan of action. You need to be strong and ask for what you want in this relationship – once you start talking again. If he can’t give it, you need to be able to walk away.”

I am pretty impressed with that response.  It’s empowering and gets me out of my own head.  Or, it stops me from letting my emotions be so extreme and fluctuating.


March 20, 2012

My inner critic won’t shut up today.  I have been flogging myself for little things since XBF’s parents came into town.  I find myself tensing up, avoiding painful thoughts, experiencing anxiety and general discomfort.  I am pretty sure its exacerbated by the fact that I had caffeine this morning, and I also haven’t gotten serious exercise in a while.  It occurred to me that drinking temporarily silences that inner critic, and that’s why it might be especially appealing.  I am able to fully let go and enjoy the moment.  Unfortunately, it also has the unfortunate byproduct of behaviors that I later regret, and then I’m back to square one again.  So now, I’m wallowing in it, with negative comments zinging back and forth, striking me.  A thought will take hold and I will freeze.  I catch my breath, my whole body is tense, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to shove out the thought and the extremely uncomfortable shame that accompanies it.  I have thought that it might be valuable to try to stay in the shameful moment, to experience it and process it.  But, I can’t seem to do it.  It’s too horrifying.  The fear and discomfort is too great to handle.

Even when my inner critic is quiet, I feel a general tension.  Waiting for the next negative thought to terrorize my mind, my body.  There is no escape.  I look forward to therapy, to help me through these moments, and hopefully to reduce their impact on my life.

%d bloggers like this: