Yesterday several things happened that were out of the ordinary. Because I couldn't sleep the night before last, Amanda decided that we needed a breakfast date. After she showered, we both got a little dressed up, and went to Denny's. I took her to work, went to Wal-Mart, and then headed over to the library. While I knew it was Veteran's Day and knew the library would be closed, for some reason, I didn't make the connection until I was actually in the library parking lot. So, I sighed and came home to play with the new planner I bought. I will show it and the Day of the Dead skulls we made in the next post.
My therapist is amazing! She wanted to know how my doctor's appointment went because she had been encouraging me to go. Generally speaking I don't like going to the doctor and well we all know from my last post that this woman doesn't seem to actually want to do anything other than peddle her goods and say my weight is the cause of all my problems- which isn't entirely true. Anyway when my therapist heard all the details of my appointment, she was livid. She told me to call my pharmacy right then and there. My doctor had not called in my depression med prescription so she asked me to call my doctor. Well, my doctor only works 4 days a week and Friday is a half day. Since my call was after the doctor's office closed, I had to leave a message. Which only aggravated my therapist further. She took some notes and promised to advocate for me. She's said that I have ups and downs but this latest down has been really bad and she's been really worried about me. That I am out of depression medication is alarming to her, that I can't sleep very well, if at all some nights, is not good, and despite me telling her that I am going to find another doctor, my therapist isn't going to stand for how my doctor treated me. She said it was unacceptable. I was a little surprised. I haven't had a doctor or therapist actually give a shit, actually look at me like a person and treat me as a person not just my weight, in so long that I'd forgotten what it was like.
When I got home I called my Dad and talked to him for two and half hours. I haven't been on the phone for that length of time in years. We talked about many things, most of which I won't go into, that would take too long, but because both my parents are essentially two of my best friends, and I am so blessed for that, I revealed some heavy stuff. Identity crisis feels far too strong a term to describe my thoughts and feelings, but I do feel that I don't know who I am a lot of the time, that I often feel lost and floundering, struggling, and even fighting. I admitted that I have had some pretty devastating thoughts come up in terms of writing. I admitted to panic attack where all I can seem to think or say is "I'm not going to make it," over and over again. And there is so much that is interwoven that one things impacts another. I even admitted that I think I am just now beginning to address, to dig down to try and heal the parts of me that were so shocked, angry, and horribly hurt from back when I was in high school- back when my Grandma Julie died and that seemed to set off a string of deaths in the family, and worse, I saw how utterly disgusting and ugly some members of my family could get and from that point only how it only got worse. We talked about how some of my anger and even some of my rage has come out, I used to cut or beat myself (I want to so badly sometimes, but I won't because I promised my Mom that I wouldn't). My Dad gets it. He knows how debilitating this level, this kind of depression can be. He admitted to sitting on his bed for 45 minutes trying to make himself go brush his teeth one day. I have the same problem some days, I scream at myself just to move, to go take a shower, to clean the house, to do something, anything. It is hard.
Dad said he was sorry that I ended up getting some of my mother's health problems and all of his depression problems. I said, "yeah and I managed to learn some OCD behaviors from mom too." Which he kind of laughed and told me about my mom's grocery bag obsession. She keeps and reuses them for the wastepaper baskets only she had a grocery bag hold stuffed to the brim and four grocery bags stuffed just as full. Dad said, shocking to him, she actually threw some away.
Our conversation turned to happier things. Dad filled me in on what he's doing in Eve Online, we talked about how Amanda and I should go see Dr. Strange- that it is even better in IMAX 3-D, or so my Mom says. My Dad can't do 3-D movies because the glasses give him migraines. He got some work so he got my mom out of the house to see a movie. And we talked about how their go-to movie at home lately is Guardians of the Galaxy because my mom loves "rabid raccoon" a.k.a Rocket. I told him that I haven't seen a lot of newer movies or as many as I'd like or even bought any because it's not really Amanda's thing. I used to buy movies all the time and only ones that I knew I would watch over and over. Amanda doesn't really understand that. That's okay. It's not her thing, but it is mine and it makes me happy. Which brings me the fact that I've given up a lot of parts of myself to make others happy or make things easier or run smoother. It really is time to start taking that back and start putting my foot down. While that might cause some confrontation, it needs to happen so I can gain a bit of my self back and I stop doing what everyone else wants. I mean I am pretty flexible and easy going, that's just my nature, but I need to stop being so easy going that I lose out on what makes me happy.
Also, while my blog is a venting ground, a place for me to decompress and express myself without giving a shit what anyone else thinks, I am choosing to share pieces of my struggles with the hope that anyone who reads this, that has similar feelings and thoughts, knows they aren't alone. There's someone out there that while our experiences are not the same, while I am not in your head, I can't hear your thought or feel your feelings, I do understand, from my perspective how much this this hurts, how debilitating it can get, how frightening, and how much you just want it to stop. Knowing you aren't alone can sometimes help.
Speaking of happy and bringing in some healing and positivity, the book discussion group I am in did a chapter on meditation which also had section on affirmations. I'm not so great with affirmations so while I don't think some people were as keen on the idea of writing up and making some personal affirmations for homework as I am, I'm just going to do it for myself. This is something I feel I need to do for awhile. I found a couple of really pretty and or nice ones on the internet as a little inspiration and I will leave you with them.