So I have been handling my realization that I'll never get a degree a little harder than I originally thought. I was surprised at my ability to handle it, but it turns out I was just suppressing my feelings about it.
I am disappointed in myself and angry at the system. I feel like psychological community is missing out on someone who could have helped out a lot, and this makes me sad. And then, of course, the inevitable embarrassment at not being able to function like a normal human being...
Needless to say, it's hitting kinda hard.
I had tried to use the military as my "one last chance to not be a failure," and then once I got medically retired and emotionally worked through that train wreck, just jumped headlong into this one...I don't know what the hell I'm going to do with myself now. I had plans of writing and just working where I can for now--which I'm still planning on--but it just feels so...hollow. Pointless. It isn't, but my emotional state at the moment is making it seem that way.
So today's lesson, I guess, is that just because something seems hopeless or worthless or even good and worthwhile, doesn't mean it is--it just means that that's how we are viewing it at the given moment. Everything is in flux. This line of thinking can be humbling or uplifting, depending on how we see ourselves at the moment, knowing that--given some time--it'll change, but either way it's okay because this just means we're human. That we are alive. Things that don't change, that remain in stagnation, wither and die. So even thought that's kinda what I want to do right now I know that I'll feel differently soon because I'm still alive.
It's easy to forget how you felt when you were depressed while in remission, or the other way around, but it's important that you don't. While your head is above the waters of despair you can gather information and insight to cling to once the current inevitably pulls you back under, and that insight can help sustain you. The more you practice, the better you'll get, and maybe--just maybe--you'll break free of the cycle.
I'm mainly just rambling now and I need to get ready for work, so I'll just stop here.
Stay well, guys.
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
Monday, December 8, 2014
At the Moment
Right now I am on the final lap through this semester, one that I am fairly certain I'm going to fail miserably...so for right now, this blog might hit a bit of a standstill. I am still alive and doing somewhat okay, but busy being either, well, busy, or depressed/sick. I hope to be able to make a more "real" post later on today. This may or may not actually happen. I don't know.
But until then, know that I will definitely return soon!
But until then, know that I will definitely return soon!
Monday, November 24, 2014
Sh*t People Say
Depression is one of the many, many diseases that cannot be easily seen. This simple fact enables the epic piles of ignorant shit people like to say to those of us with these "invisible illnesses." Some of these people are legitimately trying (and failing) to help, but some of them simply don't believe either:
In light of this, I wanted to take a look at a couple that I've heard, and maybe help someone out there who hears these to ignore them (or someone who says them to shut the fuck up). Let's start with my "favorite:"
Not only should you ignore this comment, you should disregard the asshat who said it to you. Obviously, this is easier said than done and our condition means we are prone to rumination, but just know that they are just. Freaking. Wrong. Seriously, though; fuck this guy.
But they are still wrong. If their "homeopathic cure" actually worked, it would simply be called a "cure." So kindly ask them to show you the result of a double-blind study, and then ask them to leave your treatment to your doctors. This person has potential to be an ally, but only if they can be made to understand their role.
I imagine this comes most often from those closest to us: parents, siblings, really close friends...someone who feels comfortable judging our current life situation enough to deem it not "depressing enough." This person--if made to understand the current scientific stance on what contributes to depression--might also be a great ally in this fight. Unfortunately, some of our worst enemies can also start off this way.
The good ones say this because they care, but don't understand. Deep down, they may feel like it's possibly their fault or that they could have stopped it. They say this because they feel comfortable enough to. The worst ones say this because they are comfortable enough to lead with this, and then end with the, "you're not depressed, you're just lazy," bullshit. These people will be one of the hardest to dismiss or avoid, and I am so sorry they are in your life.
But just because someone says it, thinks it, and/or believes it, doesn't mean it's true. Hell, one of the hardest things I had to learn was that it is the same thing when it comes to our own thoughts. Just because we say it, think it, believe it, doesn't make it true. I'll talk more on subjective vs. objective truths later, though.
The take-away here is this: people are fucking stupid. They may care, but sometimes say the stupidest shit when it comes to a topic they are uncomfortable with, so don't pay what people say much mind. Stick with those who are supportive, even if it's just an online community like reddit.
What are some stupid/thoughtless/hurtful things you've heard in regards to any of your "invisible illnesses?"
- These diseases exist, or,
- You have them.
In light of this, I wanted to take a look at a couple that I've heard, and maybe help someone out there who hears these to ignore them (or someone who says them to shut the fuck up). Let's start with my "favorite:"
- You're not depressed, you're just lazy.
Not only should you ignore this comment, you should disregard the asshat who said it to you. Obviously, this is easier said than done and our condition means we are prone to rumination, but just know that they are just. Freaking. Wrong. Seriously, though; fuck this guy.
- This person I know started taking [insert bullshit remedy here], and his'er depression was gone in a day!
But they are still wrong. If their "homeopathic cure" actually worked, it would simply be called a "cure." So kindly ask them to show you the result of a double-blind study, and then ask them to leave your treatment to your doctors. This person has potential to be an ally, but only if they can be made to understand their role.
- Don't go to therapists, they'll want to give you shock therapy and load you up with drugs!
- You don't have anything to be depressed about!
I imagine this comes most often from those closest to us: parents, siblings, really close friends...someone who feels comfortable judging our current life situation enough to deem it not "depressing enough." This person--if made to understand the current scientific stance on what contributes to depression--might also be a great ally in this fight. Unfortunately, some of our worst enemies can also start off this way.
The good ones say this because they care, but don't understand. Deep down, they may feel like it's possibly their fault or that they could have stopped it. They say this because they feel comfortable enough to. The worst ones say this because they are comfortable enough to lead with this, and then end with the, "you're not depressed, you're just lazy," bullshit. These people will be one of the hardest to dismiss or avoid, and I am so sorry they are in your life.
But just because someone says it, thinks it, and/or believes it, doesn't mean it's true. Hell, one of the hardest things I had to learn was that it is the same thing when it comes to our own thoughts. Just because we say it, think it, believe it, doesn't make it true. I'll talk more on subjective vs. objective truths later, though.
The take-away here is this: people are fucking stupid. They may care, but sometimes say the stupidest shit when it comes to a topic they are uncomfortable with, so don't pay what people say much mind. Stick with those who are supportive, even if it's just an online community like reddit.
What are some stupid/thoughtless/hurtful things you've heard in regards to any of your "invisible illnesses?"
Friday, November 21, 2014
Journaling Hows and Whys
Okay, so after having my terrible Wednesday and taking Thursday to chill (and work, admittedly), I feel like it's officially okay to attempt this again.
When it comes to the internet (and official literature that didn't have a paywall), so many people say that journaling is a good idea. It is a good idea for psychoanalysis, CBT, treating PTSD, behavioral activation, migraines, and just regular life among a million other applications as well, I'm sure. However, it's not necessarily something one is apt to do naturally. It feel silly, if I'm honest, at least until you get used to it. I only got really into it in the past year or so and even then it took awhile to get somewhat consistent about it.
I guess, technically, it was always "journaling," but it didn't feel that way. I had read somewhere that you can improve your working memory if you always write everything down. Supposedly this allows your brain to stop trying to hold on to a bunch of unnecessary information so you can focus better on what matters. So I wrote everything down. Grocery lists, schedules, room numbers, directions, idle thoughts, story ideas, complaints--everything. It was mostly on loose leaf paper in my school binder, but eventually I got little notebooks that I could carry around. This might be the beginning of my "pretty journals" obsession...Anyway, this note-taking led to journaling. Kinda. I didn't notice an increase in my mental powers, so I tapered off fairly quickly. When I switched over to journaling about my day, I completely stopped. Eventually I stopped carrying a notebook with me. I didn't really start back up until a couple years ago, and it didn't really get serious until last year, I think, when my depression bottomed-out again.
So what do I journal about now? Anything. Everything. I write about my day, my thoughts, I bitch about people/classes, I record my physical as well as mental health (though not as much as my doctors would like). I evaluate how I handled different problems and why, I make plans for Christmas decorations...
Do you want to start? Find a notebook that you like, or bind some loose leaf together in a folder. Then...well...start. There are a bunch of different techniques you can try, but research has shown (if you read any of the six links up top) that the most beneficial way to do this is to write about potential gains from problems you face. Basically just re-evaluating shitty situations and trying to find anything you could learn or grow from. This keeps you focused on more reflexive topics while not just dwelling on the negative.
If this deeper writing isn't for you, you can try more surface things like the route I took, writing everything down. There is also even more subtle things where you simply record the weather for each day. You can even take the more CBT-focused route and just record thoughts and feelings that you have.
If you are more creatively inclined (you don't have to be good at this, just enjoy it), you can start something called an art journal, too! Basically you take a topic and you draw/paint/photograph/sculpt/modge podge/collage it. It can be something really emotional such as a break up, or it could be fairly simple like taking a concept ("freedom") and making an entry representing that. To get the most out of this, I would suggest writing something alongside these entries so you can have something more concrete to look back on.
And for the most benefit, make sure you do look back! You can compare and see how you've grown or find patterns that are destructive. And if you have a therapist, then I would suggest bringing up your journal with them and seeing if they want to go over certain things with you. Having a trained second set of eyes can help eliminate some bias that may blind you to certain defenses or faults.
I think I might start posting journal topics for you guys either on a separate page or on the side bar, I don't know.
There is now a journaling topics page! Last update to it was on 11/25 at 1:26 am.
Have you had any experience with journaling you'd like to share? Maybe pictures of your journals themselves (I'm a sucker for a nice notebook)? Please comment below!
When it comes to the internet (and official literature that didn't have a paywall), so many people say that journaling is a good idea. It is a good idea for psychoanalysis, CBT, treating PTSD, behavioral activation, migraines, and just regular life among a million other applications as well, I'm sure. However, it's not necessarily something one is apt to do naturally. It feel silly, if I'm honest, at least until you get used to it. I only got really into it in the past year or so and even then it took awhile to get somewhat consistent about it.
I guess, technically, it was always "journaling," but it didn't feel that way. I had read somewhere that you can improve your working memory if you always write everything down. Supposedly this allows your brain to stop trying to hold on to a bunch of unnecessary information so you can focus better on what matters. So I wrote everything down. Grocery lists, schedules, room numbers, directions, idle thoughts, story ideas, complaints--everything. It was mostly on loose leaf paper in my school binder, but eventually I got little notebooks that I could carry around. This might be the beginning of my "pretty journals" obsession...Anyway, this note-taking led to journaling. Kinda. I didn't notice an increase in my mental powers, so I tapered off fairly quickly. When I switched over to journaling about my day, I completely stopped. Eventually I stopped carrying a notebook with me. I didn't really start back up until a couple years ago, and it didn't really get serious until last year, I think, when my depression bottomed-out again.
So what do I journal about now? Anything. Everything. I write about my day, my thoughts, I bitch about people/classes, I record my physical as well as mental health (though not as much as my doctors would like). I evaluate how I handled different problems and why, I make plans for Christmas decorations...
Do you want to start? Find a notebook that you like, or bind some loose leaf together in a folder. Then...well...start. There are a bunch of different techniques you can try, but research has shown (if you read any of the six links up top) that the most beneficial way to do this is to write about potential gains from problems you face. Basically just re-evaluating shitty situations and trying to find anything you could learn or grow from. This keeps you focused on more reflexive topics while not just dwelling on the negative.
If this deeper writing isn't for you, you can try more surface things like the route I took, writing everything down. There is also even more subtle things where you simply record the weather for each day. You can even take the more CBT-focused route and just record thoughts and feelings that you have.
If you are more creatively inclined (you don't have to be good at this, just enjoy it), you can start something called an art journal, too! Basically you take a topic and you draw/paint/photograph/sculpt/modge podge/collage it. It can be something really emotional such as a break up, or it could be fairly simple like taking a concept ("freedom") and making an entry representing that. To get the most out of this, I would suggest writing something alongside these entries so you can have something more concrete to look back on.
And for the most benefit, make sure you do look back! You can compare and see how you've grown or find patterns that are destructive. And if you have a therapist, then I would suggest bringing up your journal with them and seeing if they want to go over certain things with you. Having a trained second set of eyes can help eliminate some bias that may blind you to certain defenses or faults.
There is now a journaling topics page! Last update to it was on 11/25 at 1:26 am.
Have you had any experience with journaling you'd like to share? Maybe pictures of your journals themselves (I'm a sucker for a nice notebook)? Please comment below!
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Trudging Through Tar
Hey. Today, I'm supposed to be writing about journaling and the different ways to get started. But right now I'm about ready to just curl up in my bed and ride out a shitty bout of self-hatred. I know, I know, I'm supposed to be over this by now, right? Wrong. I'm pretty much stuck with this stupid disease for the rest of my life (probably), and right now I'm pretty fucking sick of it.
I'm tired of the struggle, of the pain, of the upswings where I look around and realize that everything I've felt so sad about is silly, and then the anxiety behind the knowledge that I'm going to slip face-first into the tar pit of despair again when I least expect it (like today), and then the aforementioned slip itself. Right now I just want to give up. To go to sleep and not wake up...
But I can't. I know that on a long-term sort of scale, I'll get better--even if only for about a day or two--and then I'll do something that makes this stupid life worth it; be it a blog post, a helpful comment on reddit, or even just holding the door open for someone who really needed a little bit of kindness that day. Because, you see, no one lives in a vacuum. No matter how much you try to isolate yourself, someone is affected by what you do for better or worse. Little actions lead to big results that, honestly, you may never see, but they are there. You matter. I matter. As much as I wish I didn't...
So trudge on I shall. Although, right now I'm just going to lay down with the covers over my head until I can stop crying long enough to distract myself (probably with video games). I'm not going to lie, depression sucks. Big time.
Hang in there, friends. It gets better.
I'm tired of the struggle, of the pain, of the upswings where I look around and realize that everything I've felt so sad about is silly, and then the anxiety behind the knowledge that I'm going to slip face-first into the tar pit of despair again when I least expect it (like today), and then the aforementioned slip itself. Right now I just want to give up. To go to sleep and not wake up...
But I can't. I know that on a long-term sort of scale, I'll get better--even if only for about a day or two--and then I'll do something that makes this stupid life worth it; be it a blog post, a helpful comment on reddit, or even just holding the door open for someone who really needed a little bit of kindness that day. Because, you see, no one lives in a vacuum. No matter how much you try to isolate yourself, someone is affected by what you do for better or worse. Little actions lead to big results that, honestly, you may never see, but they are there. You matter. I matter. As much as I wish I didn't...
So trudge on I shall. Although, right now I'm just going to lay down with the covers over my head until I can stop crying long enough to distract myself (probably with video games). I'm not going to lie, depression sucks. Big time.
Hang in there, friends. It gets better.
Monday, November 17, 2014
The Project
So a while back, Dr. S looked at my activity log and mentioned that journaling is one of my "values." I kinda did a little mental twinge, but just tucked it away for later. The question lingered, though: how the fuck is "journaling" a value?
Eventually I revisited that--y'know, shower thoughts and all that--and came to the conclusion that journaling isn't a value; it is an action that expresses a value. So what is that value? I came up with a few: introspection, reflection, emotional processing, expression, and self understanding. After that I thought about what other activities express might express values that I don't even pay attention to. Yeah, that's a bit of a mouthful.
Anyway.
That's where I got the idea for The Project. Maybe there are other aspects of my life I could examine and learn from. It's a little psychoanalytical, but either way, here's the general idea:
I'm going to take every aspect of my life and dissect it. I'm not trying to find anything wrong or second-guess my every move from birth or anything, just identify patterns and associations. I'll write lists, essays, draw pie charts--however best to present my data--and then analyze the shit out of it. Like I said, psychoanalytical.
Some ideas for topics include relationships with other people--good, bad, indifferent--and how/why they got that way. The list of activities I already mentioned was the first entry. Also I've got habit, pet peeves, prejudices, thing that disgust me, defense mechanisms, hopes, dreams, and common/repeated problems. There are many other things I can/will evaluate, but this is more than enough to get me started. This is also on top of my novel, my creative writing blog, and this blog too, so it may take awhile, but in the end it'll be worth it.
Plato had written, "Know thyself." It was an admonishment of cocky young fucks, and I know this project of mine may sting--it will certainly bring up some harsh memories if I manage to stay honest with myself.
Maybe I'll post some bits from this Project, but I can't guarantee that. I will, however, post some of the topics I use with explanations of just what the hell I'm talking about. I really encourage all of you who feel fairly stable to take a shot. Those of you still trudging through the tar might want to stick to more "life-affirming" topics. In fact, I think that's what Wednesday will be about.
~Stay warm, kiddies (unless you live in the Southern Hemisphere--you guys stay cool)!
Eventually I revisited that--y'know, shower thoughts and all that--and came to the conclusion that journaling isn't a value; it is an action that expresses a value. So what is that value? I came up with a few: introspection, reflection, emotional processing, expression, and self understanding. After that I thought about what other activities express might express values that I don't even pay attention to. Yeah, that's a bit of a mouthful.
Anyway.
That's where I got the idea for The Project. Maybe there are other aspects of my life I could examine and learn from. It's a little psychoanalytical, but either way, here's the general idea:
I'm going to take every aspect of my life and dissect it. I'm not trying to find anything wrong or second-guess my every move from birth or anything, just identify patterns and associations. I'll write lists, essays, draw pie charts--however best to present my data--and then analyze the shit out of it. Like I said, psychoanalytical.
Some ideas for topics include relationships with other people--good, bad, indifferent--and how/why they got that way. The list of activities I already mentioned was the first entry. Also I've got habit, pet peeves, prejudices, thing that disgust me, defense mechanisms, hopes, dreams, and common/repeated problems. There are many other things I can/will evaluate, but this is more than enough to get me started. This is also on top of my novel, my creative writing blog, and this blog too, so it may take awhile, but in the end it'll be worth it.
Plato had written, "Know thyself." It was an admonishment of cocky young fucks, and I know this project of mine may sting--it will certainly bring up some harsh memories if I manage to stay honest with myself.
Maybe I'll post some bits from this Project, but I can't guarantee that. I will, however, post some of the topics I use with explanations of just what the hell I'm talking about. I really encourage all of you who feel fairly stable to take a shot. Those of you still trudging through the tar might want to stick to more "life-affirming" topics. In fact, I think that's what Wednesday will be about.
~Stay warm, kiddies (unless you live in the Southern Hemisphere--you guys stay cool)!
Friday, November 14, 2014
Friday Check-In!
Hey everyone!
So I haven't done this sort of thing in a while, but here we are again. I have actually been through a lot, recently--not anything bad necessarily, just a lot.
Firstly, I have a new job (as I've said already). I work at a craft store, selling fake flowers to old ladies and yarn to hipsters. It's going pretty darn well: they keep their side of the Americans with Disabilities Act by allowing me to sit on a stool at the register and take breaks when I need it when I'm working the floor (there's not much else for them to do with me, really). So there's that. But then there's something else.
I think I may not finish my degree.
Just a few months ago, and I would be so ashamed of myself, saying that I'm worthless and useless and I'd never be able to amount to anything or help anybody unless I straight up got my doctorate. I do feel silly; I've been pretty proud of myself for planning on making to so long in the college game. But that's all it was: planning. I tried to take credit for something that never really happened. *cringe*
So what will I do instead, you ask? I don't have a f*cking clue (as I also have already said). But I really think I might get a kick out of trying to do this blog for realsies. This means that I'd have to write much more consistently and actually try to get readers instead of this, "I want but don't want people to read my stuff 'cuz I'm a silly little girl," crap. Either way, this could really only mean good things to come for this blog as I'll have to up the quality and actually think about what I'm posting before I do so.
Also, I have another blog that I started awhile ago called The Reachings, that is a lot more creative writing-based that I will be starting back up on. This one might actually become my job one day, so if you care at all, check it out! Right now it's a lot of old stuff, but soon after posting this, I'll be putting up some other writings and posting my plans for it there.
My goals for this next week, then:
1. Come up with "real" posts for this blog. Maybe about a month's worth.
2. Write and edit those posts (at least 2 weeks' worth).
3. Don't panic!
4. Figure out how I'm going to get through two more semesters of school while also knowing that none of it actually makes a bit of difference.
Wish me luck on these things. Maybe I can actually help people without a degree...
So I haven't done this sort of thing in a while, but here we are again. I have actually been through a lot, recently--not anything bad necessarily, just a lot.
Firstly, I have a new job (as I've said already). I work at a craft store, selling fake flowers to old ladies and yarn to hipsters. It's going pretty darn well: they keep their side of the Americans with Disabilities Act by allowing me to sit on a stool at the register and take breaks when I need it when I'm working the floor (there's not much else for them to do with me, really). So there's that. But then there's something else.
I think I may not finish my degree.
Just a few months ago, and I would be so ashamed of myself, saying that I'm worthless and useless and I'd never be able to amount to anything or help anybody unless I straight up got my doctorate. I do feel silly; I've been pretty proud of myself for planning on making to so long in the college game. But that's all it was: planning. I tried to take credit for something that never really happened. *cringe*
So what will I do instead, you ask? I don't have a f*cking clue (as I also have already said). But I really think I might get a kick out of trying to do this blog for realsies. This means that I'd have to write much more consistently and actually try to get readers instead of this, "I want but don't want people to read my stuff 'cuz I'm a silly little girl," crap. Either way, this could really only mean good things to come for this blog as I'll have to up the quality and actually think about what I'm posting before I do so.
Also, I have another blog that I started awhile ago called The Reachings, that is a lot more creative writing-based that I will be starting back up on. This one might actually become my job one day, so if you care at all, check it out! Right now it's a lot of old stuff, but soon after posting this, I'll be putting up some other writings and posting my plans for it there.
My goals for this next week, then:
1. Come up with "real" posts for this blog. Maybe about a month's worth.
2. Write and edit those posts (at least 2 weeks' worth).
3. Don't panic!
4. Figure out how I'm going to get through two more semesters of school while also knowing that none of it actually makes a bit of difference.
Wish me luck on these things. Maybe I can actually help people without a degree...
Monday, November 10, 2014
Procrasturbation and What's Next
So I don't know what the f*ck to do with my life.
I'm in school right now for psychology, which I love and I'm actually pretty good at--but I am not college material. I should have known this from the start, but I kept deluding myself, thinking, "Maybe this year I'll get my shit together," "Okay, so last semester sucked, but maybe I'll turn everything around this Spring," which inevitably leads to, "Oh...well, shit. Maybe I'll do better in my summer classes."
I'm not stupid, don't get me wrong. If college was just tests, I'd have graduated six times by now. I absorb information like a sponge, but ask me to write a paper and do a presentation, and I'll fuck it up 9 out of 10 times. I hate it. And there is a whole process to it, too.
First, I get the assignment. "Oh that's neat," I'll say. Or maybe even, "That's a dumb topic, but whatever." I tell myself that it'll be easy, or maybe not easy but I don't need to start three months in advance when teachers usually give these assignments.
Then, I promptly forget about it. I might think about my topic for a day, but then I write it off.
About a month into my class, the teacher brings it up again. Okay, planning time. I can make an outline by this date. This day, I'll pick out what resources I'm going to use. This other day I'll write the first really crappy draft. Then I'll let the topic sit until x date. That day I'll go through and polish it up, sort my resources, etc. Then I'll have a finished draft by...oh...another month before it's due.
Forget about it again.
Two weeks before it's due and people around me start talking about doing research for it. Hm. I should probably get on that.
Forget about it again.
For the next two weeks, I'll be reminded again and again that I have a paper to do, and then--again and again--I'll forget about it. About four days before the paper is due, I'll start to think about it more. Maybe dabble in some research for it. Make that outline. Then I'll go back to video games and hobbies (admittedly with a little more fervor than before) until the night before or the day of and go, "Oh shitshitshitshit," the whole time I'm writing meaningless bullshit.
Alternatively, I'll not do it, and just duck my head down for the next few class periods until the whole paper thing blows over so I don't get the disapproving look and a "Did you send me your paper?"
If I turn the paper in, I usually get an A, which probably just reinforces my procrastinating behaviors--if I get an A with only a day's worth of shitty work, why try?--but overall I alone am responsible for my actions.
There's also some (read: a lot) of perfectionistic tendencies plus defense mechanisms influencing my behavior as well. If I get a bad grade on a paper that I actually tried on, then I'm much more hurt than if I didn't try at all. But it feels like my whole brain shuts down when I sit to type a paper that I know is not going to be good, right up to the "shitshitshit" point.
So What's Next
Fuck if I know. Seriously, though, I am using the GI Bill right now (for which I am eternally grateful), but it's being used on a degree I'm not entirely sure I can finish. I'm not even motivated to finish it, anymore, now that I really have a sense of what I'm actually capable of. It doesn't help knowing that it only covers 3 years of a 4 year program, so even if I got straight A's I would still have to wait until I could afford to go to school another year. So what's a girl to do?
Prostitution.
Whaaaat? No, I'm just kidding--did you see your face?! Ha, in all seriousness, I still really don't know. I would just love to be able to write for a living: I could work from home, which would be good for my body; I could save money on gas; I could do what I love and get paid for it; and best of all, I wouldn't have to work in customer service.
Yeah, I just talked at length about how I can't write papers for school and then immediately turned around to say that I'd love to do it for a living. And yes, I am aware of how stupid that sounds. Let's get things straight, if my boss came up to me today and said, "Hey, I'm going to need you to write a report on psychotropic drugs by Thursday," I'd be all over that shit. Because I'd be getting paid to do it, and (while I don't know why a craft store would need a report like that and I should probably look into reporting him for academic dishonesty) it would be relevant to my job. At least, relevant to keeping my job...
Anyway.
I am just not able to work for the long game, is what all this comes down to. I need to experience the immediate consequence for my work, otherwise it is really difficult to care. And I suppose that's not a totally terrible thing: if I get that one condition, I work my ass off. I will gladly sit there for four hours cleaning every speck of dust out of my work area if we are getting inspected. I will get really into re-organizing my office if it is to meet a specific, real-world goal. I will write page after page after page of stuff, if I am actually getting something out of it. And hell, that's how this blog started out--I really felt like I was getting something out of writing about Positive Psychology for a class I was in. I only changed it over to what it is today because I am no longer in that class and I was starting to feel like I was repeating myself.
So in short, god only knows what the hell I'm going to do once my GI Bill runs out (or I end up making enough money to quit early).
Anyway.
I am just not able to work for the long game, is what all this comes down to. I need to experience the immediate consequence for my work, otherwise it is really difficult to care. And I suppose that's not a totally terrible thing: if I get that one condition, I work my ass off. I will gladly sit there for four hours cleaning every speck of dust out of my work area if we are getting inspected. I will get really into re-organizing my office if it is to meet a specific, real-world goal. I will write page after page after page of stuff, if I am actually getting something out of it. And hell, that's how this blog started out--I really felt like I was getting something out of writing about Positive Psychology for a class I was in. I only changed it over to what it is today because I am no longer in that class and I was starting to feel like I was repeating myself.
So in short, god only knows what the hell I'm going to do once my GI Bill runs out (or I end up making enough money to quit early).
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Little Slips
Last post I wrote about the anxiety that's always there, just waiting for myself to slip back into months-long depression and hopelessness. Well, I'm still waiting for "the big one" but little ones have been cropping up here and there.
I don't even know where the last one came from, just that it happened and it was annoying (after I got over bawling my eyes out). But really, it was survivable. I wonder if that's what my life has in store for me from now on: little bouts of mini-breakdowns every once in a while for no reason whatsoever. I hope not, but if so, then I guess it is what it is...
I just have to try to remind myself that it is happening now, yes. And it sucks ass, yes. But just because I am spontaneously depressed today doesn't mean it is going to be months of a downward spiral until I want to shoot myself in the face. It could just be for tonight, and even if it isn't, I'll deal with it like I have for 20ish years prior. Just to wait it out until tomorrow and try not to get too existential about my suffering until then.
And breathe. As much as I hate admitting it (it sounds like a tree-hugging, new-age, hippie thing), breathing exercises really, really help. Just concentrate on the fact that you are breathing in, then out and all the sounds and physical sensations in between...when you start to think about anything else (good, bad, or not), just go, "nope," and breathe in again. Breathe out again. It won't fix anything necessarily, and it takes a lot of strength and practice to bring yourself back to it, but it certainly doesn't hurt.
Anyway, that's been my week.
I don't even know where the last one came from, just that it happened and it was annoying (after I got over bawling my eyes out). But really, it was survivable. I wonder if that's what my life has in store for me from now on: little bouts of mini-breakdowns every once in a while for no reason whatsoever. I hope not, but if so, then I guess it is what it is...
I just have to try to remind myself that it is happening now, yes. And it sucks ass, yes. But just because I am spontaneously depressed today doesn't mean it is going to be months of a downward spiral until I want to shoot myself in the face. It could just be for tonight, and even if it isn't, I'll deal with it like I have for 20ish years prior. Just to wait it out until tomorrow and try not to get too existential about my suffering until then.
And breathe. As much as I hate admitting it (it sounds like a tree-hugging, new-age, hippie thing), breathing exercises really, really help. Just concentrate on the fact that you are breathing in, then out and all the sounds and physical sensations in between...when you start to think about anything else (good, bad, or not), just go, "nope," and breathe in again. Breathe out again. It won't fix anything necessarily, and it takes a lot of strength and practice to bring yourself back to it, but it certainly doesn't hurt.
Anyway, that's been my week.
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Fuck it.
This may sound like I'm giving up, but it is actually a kind of war cry; a beginning to another attempt to actually write things on this blog. This article itself won't be very exciting probably, as I have to start getting ready for work soon. Yes, work!
I finally buckled down and got a job that is still kind of physically demanding (for me, anyway), but is still pretty accommodating. I work at a craft store as a cashier and sometimes a sales floor rep (basically just keeping things tidy while showing old ladys where the yarn is). I've wanted to work there for years, but I was either outright rejected (due to absolutely STUPID interview answers on my part--I still cringe), or I was too afraid to apply (years later). Either way, I finally applied and it took a couple months for a different location to actually get a hold of me (I hate online applications now). It was a simple, "if you can form a coherent sentence, you're hired" kind of interview, but I was still fabulously prepared for it.
I have made a lot of mental progress since the last time I wrote something here, and I have made a lot of progress on my novel, too. Once I get home tonight or between classes tomorrow I will write a lot more on that, as I am pretty excited about how well I've been doing. There is, of course, a lot of anxiety there as well, because my depression still sits in the back of my head and reminds me that it could rear its ugly head at any point if I drop my guard. It really is something I have to keep watch on, too, as I found out during my recent fall break.
At this point I'm mainly just rambling an update to (again) let you know I'm still alive, so I won't subject you to too much more until later. I just randomly saw the bookmark for blogger and thought I should just sneak a peek and see if it was something I wanted to do again, and it was! So yeah. Thanks for putting up with me thus far, and I'll write more soon.
I finally buckled down and got a job that is still kind of physically demanding (for me, anyway), but is still pretty accommodating. I work at a craft store as a cashier and sometimes a sales floor rep (basically just keeping things tidy while showing old ladys where the yarn is). I've wanted to work there for years, but I was either outright rejected (due to absolutely STUPID interview answers on my part--I still cringe), or I was too afraid to apply (years later). Either way, I finally applied and it took a couple months for a different location to actually get a hold of me (I hate online applications now). It was a simple, "if you can form a coherent sentence, you're hired" kind of interview, but I was still fabulously prepared for it.
I have made a lot of mental progress since the last time I wrote something here, and I have made a lot of progress on my novel, too. Once I get home tonight or between classes tomorrow I will write a lot more on that, as I am pretty excited about how well I've been doing. There is, of course, a lot of anxiety there as well, because my depression still sits in the back of my head and reminds me that it could rear its ugly head at any point if I drop my guard. It really is something I have to keep watch on, too, as I found out during my recent fall break.
At this point I'm mainly just rambling an update to (again) let you know I'm still alive, so I won't subject you to too much more until later. I just randomly saw the bookmark for blogger and thought I should just sneak a peek and see if it was something I wanted to do again, and it was! So yeah. Thanks for putting up with me thus far, and I'll write more soon.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Long time, no write.
Yeah, I know I haven't actually contributed anything to the blogosphere in a while. It happens. Especially when you are seriously down and out and then sick, and then starting school, and all that. Ah well.
But I am alive! At least...last time I checked, anyway.
I don't know exactly what's going to happen here, to be honest. I might shut this down, I might get right back up on the horse. Most likely, however, it will be a sporadic chronicling of the times when I am not depressed and/or sick and/or busy as hell (that last one almost never happens for real, so no worries there). Any way it happens in the future, I am writing now. And RIGHT NOW is the most important time, right?
That's such an interesting concept. Right this second is the rest of your life. <--and that, my friends, sounds cliche as fuck. But it's true, isn't it? I could, right this second: go rob a bank, take a nap, start trying to find money to start a homeless shelter, shoot myself in the face (actually, I don't think that would be a "right this second" kind of thing, as I have no ready access to a gun), work on my novel, or just finish this blog post and then start re-watching Archer from the beginning like I was planning on doing. Every instant has a wealth of possibilities that, when you're depressed, are almost impossible to see.
Depression is stupid.
Anyway, the more I think, "screw the audience, I'm just gonna write!" the more I want to continue this blog. Fuck it, why not? The worst that could happen is no one ever reads it and I just keep typing to myself. Maybe I'll get better at writing. Maybe I'll figure out some crazy awesome universal truth that no one has ever thought of before and then have some crazy epiphany and then solve world hunger or something. Most likely the first one, if I were a betting woman. The point is, I'm still alive and I get to decide what that means. Right now. And now. Aaaaaaaaaaaaand now.
And now.
But I am alive! At least...last time I checked, anyway.
I don't know exactly what's going to happen here, to be honest. I might shut this down, I might get right back up on the horse. Most likely, however, it will be a sporadic chronicling of the times when I am not depressed and/or sick and/or busy as hell (that last one almost never happens for real, so no worries there). Any way it happens in the future, I am writing now. And RIGHT NOW is the most important time, right?
That's such an interesting concept. Right this second is the rest of your life. <--and that, my friends, sounds cliche as fuck. But it's true, isn't it? I could, right this second: go rob a bank, take a nap, start trying to find money to start a homeless shelter, shoot myself in the face (actually, I don't think that would be a "right this second" kind of thing, as I have no ready access to a gun), work on my novel, or just finish this blog post and then start re-watching Archer from the beginning like I was planning on doing. Every instant has a wealth of possibilities that, when you're depressed, are almost impossible to see.
Depression is stupid.
Anyway, the more I think, "screw the audience, I'm just gonna write!" the more I want to continue this blog. Fuck it, why not? The worst that could happen is no one ever reads it and I just keep typing to myself. Maybe I'll get better at writing. Maybe I'll figure out some crazy awesome universal truth that no one has ever thought of before and then have some crazy epiphany and then solve world hunger or something. Most likely the first one, if I were a betting woman. The point is, I'm still alive and I get to decide what that means. Right now. And now. Aaaaaaaaaaaaand now.
And now.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Panicking--what do?!
The other day, I had a panic-filled hour or two. It wasn't a traditional panic attack--with the sweating and the heart palpitations and the feeling like I'm going crazy or going to die--this was a much more mild panic. That lasted forever. Ugh.
So how did I pull through this? Well, I'm not quite an expert at this whole thing yet, but I do have some tricks.
So how did I pull through this? Well, I'm not quite an expert at this whole thing yet, but I do have some tricks.
- Realize that this is just a feeling. I'm not dying, I'm not in danger, I'm just overreacting to something (probably having been cooped up in the house for a couple weeks too long and not having much to show for it).
- Fat lot of good that did. What's next?
- Take long, slow, deep breaths.
- Oh crap, that didn't work. Now what?
- What do the experts say? Some say exercise...ugh, that sounds awful. Others say to distract yourself...okay...god this is uncomfortable...let's try to...I don't know...edit more of my book! That sounds like a good idea.
- Oh god, this still isn't working. I can't even concentrate, I'm so panicked. And finally, the (somewhat terrible) solution to many problems (that surprisingly works):
- Take a nap.
I don't know why it works, and it really is only a temporary solution until I can finally master myself, but when I'm in a pinch, I take a nap. It's much better than, say, running around screaming until I throw myself into a full-fledged panic attack. I just wish I still had a prescription to Klonopin. Oh well.
Anyway, I hope you guys have a better week than I've been having.
~ML
Monday, August 4, 2014
Self-Worth vs. Self-Esteem
This is a topic that I think is extremely important for every human being to understand. With that in mind, I am going to try to explain my views on it as best as I can.
So firstly, what are these things?
Self-Esteem is something most of us get pounded into our brains throughout school. It is how we feel about ourselves with high self-esteem meaning feeling good, and low self-esteem feeling bad. Then culture steps in (at least in my upbringing), and tells you that high self-esteem is a bad thing to have. That it means feeling cocky. What they should say is that inflated self-esteem is bad. 'Inflated' meaning way higher than it ever should be, like "I am a god" kind of self-esteem. When you start to base how you feel about yourself on how you rate other humans, you are heading in a bad direction. Any blow to an inflated self-esteem, and everything goes into disarray.
Self-worth is a concept that is usually skipped by most and those who take a shot at it make it sound like the biggest pile of Kumbaya hippie-shit ever. Because of not understanding self-worth I had a bit of an existential crisis, and because not too many even understood what I meant when asking about it, I felt a little crazy and completely alone.
Maybe because they just accepted the idea unconsciously and I didn't even understand it meant I had no worth? NOPE. But that was one of the many doubts I had about it.
Self-worth is the inherent worth you have as a human being. Note that I did not say the worth you express. Every person has the potential to do something great with their lives. It may take practice, learning a new trade, extra effort (for those with some disability), or even a complete 180 from their current life path (in the case of criminals or those who sit on the couch all day eating snacks), but EVERYONE has that potential.
Now for the hippie bullshit! I say this, but it is an interesting way to look at it in conjunction with a real definition. A self-esteem workbook I was given mentioned that most people don't question the right of existence of an animal or a plant, we just accept it. And therefore, we should just accept our own. The first part is really easy to agree with, I think. But as soon as we get to human beings, we start attaching meaning to our actions and our thoughts, and it makes sense to a degree: we are capable of much more good and "evil" than just a tree or a cat. They are inherently good, right? Well...yeah, I guess. But that doesn't mean that if we aren't another Mother Theresa or whatever that we deserve to die or don't deserve a good life. "Deserve" is a silly notion when it comes to the big picture, anyway. That's not something we should really trifle with (or its possible that I am treating that idea with the same kid gloves as everyone else treated "self-worth").
Want a shitty metaphor? Imagine, say, gold. Its actual, monetary worth is its "self-worth." How much it believes its worth is its "self-esteem" and then if you found it and sold it, that would be the expression of its worth. If you never found it and it sat at, say, the bottom of the ocean, would it still not have worth on the market? If you did find it, but thought it was a worthless chunk of rock, wouldn't it still be worth something on the market? Say you kept it as a paperweight (because you still thought it was worthless), and your imaginary geologist friend stopped by ten years later and told you that you had a huge cash cow sitting on top of some bills, didn't it still have that worth the whole time?
For a "human" example, think about good old Schindler (from Schindler's List). He was a total douche canoe by all accounts. He was a cheap, racist bastard and a grouchy one at that. If you only saw that part of his life, you wouldn't think much about his worth, right? Maybe he was a "productive" member of society, but not a very nice one. Then he changed for the better. He saved a bunch of Jewish people from the Nazis, that's pretty awesome, right? But until he did that, if he had questioned his worth as I had, he would have decided he shouldn't exist. And then how fucked would those Jews have been?
The important thing to see here is not that he was suddenly worth anything, but that he always was. It was because he had the potential to change, the potential to do something awesome, that he had inherent worth. But hindsight is 20/20, right? Not if you subscribe to the idea that everyone always has that potential. The hard part is thinking this way about people we hate. That Kony asshole, for example. Or Hitler, if you want to stay with that theme. They may do (or have done) terrible things, but while they are still alive, they still have the potential to do something amazing.
And so do you.
If you are reading my blog (which I don't think anyone but bots are at the moment), you are depressed, have been depressed before, or know someone in those first two conditions. Or you just think I'm awesome, whatever. But I know how it feels: everyday is a struggle to get out of bed, or just generally give a flying fuck about anything. And reading this may feel like I'm telling you to just stop being a total asshole and cure cancer already. I'm not. What I'm saying here, is that you have an inherent, inalienable right to be here, no matter how shitty you feel, or how little you feel you have accomplished. And it is not because you might one day jump out of bed and save little Timmy from a well. It is because you have the potential to even ACCIDENTALLY help someone. Did you know that World Wars I and II were really big catalysts to moving psychology into the realm of real science? Just saying. Shitty things happen. Shitty people exist. But it doesn't mean that it shouldn't have happened or that they should just off themselves. Because we cannot possibly know their potential--ever--unless it affects us directly. You may never know your own real potential/worth unless you are specifically told how you affected the world.
If you are anything like me, this may help clear some things up but not really make you feel better about life. This could, however, give you permission to do the things that make you feel better. Or even the extra oomph you may have needed to start practicing something that could help you express the worth you already have.
So firstly, what are these things?
Self-Esteem is something most of us get pounded into our brains throughout school. It is how we feel about ourselves with high self-esteem meaning feeling good, and low self-esteem feeling bad. Then culture steps in (at least in my upbringing), and tells you that high self-esteem is a bad thing to have. That it means feeling cocky. What they should say is that inflated self-esteem is bad. 'Inflated' meaning way higher than it ever should be, like "I am a god" kind of self-esteem. When you start to base how you feel about yourself on how you rate other humans, you are heading in a bad direction. Any blow to an inflated self-esteem, and everything goes into disarray.
Self-worth is a concept that is usually skipped by most and those who take a shot at it make it sound like the biggest pile of Kumbaya hippie-shit ever. Because of not understanding self-worth I had a bit of an existential crisis, and because not too many even understood what I meant when asking about it, I felt a little crazy and completely alone.
Maybe because they just accepted the idea unconsciously and I didn't even understand it meant I had no worth? NOPE. But that was one of the many doubts I had about it.
Self-worth is the inherent worth you have as a human being. Note that I did not say the worth you express. Every person has the potential to do something great with their lives. It may take practice, learning a new trade, extra effort (for those with some disability), or even a complete 180 from their current life path (in the case of criminals or those who sit on the couch all day eating snacks), but EVERYONE has that potential.
Now for the hippie bullshit! I say this, but it is an interesting way to look at it in conjunction with a real definition. A self-esteem workbook I was given mentioned that most people don't question the right of existence of an animal or a plant, we just accept it. And therefore, we should just accept our own. The first part is really easy to agree with, I think. But as soon as we get to human beings, we start attaching meaning to our actions and our thoughts, and it makes sense to a degree: we are capable of much more good and "evil" than just a tree or a cat. They are inherently good, right? Well...yeah, I guess. But that doesn't mean that if we aren't another Mother Theresa or whatever that we deserve to die or don't deserve a good life. "Deserve" is a silly notion when it comes to the big picture, anyway. That's not something we should really trifle with (or its possible that I am treating that idea with the same kid gloves as everyone else treated "self-worth").
Want a shitty metaphor? Imagine, say, gold. Its actual, monetary worth is its "self-worth." How much it believes its worth is its "self-esteem" and then if you found it and sold it, that would be the expression of its worth. If you never found it and it sat at, say, the bottom of the ocean, would it still not have worth on the market? If you did find it, but thought it was a worthless chunk of rock, wouldn't it still be worth something on the market? Say you kept it as a paperweight (because you still thought it was worthless), and your imaginary geologist friend stopped by ten years later and told you that you had a huge cash cow sitting on top of some bills, didn't it still have that worth the whole time?
For a "human" example, think about good old Schindler (from Schindler's List). He was a total douche canoe by all accounts. He was a cheap, racist bastard and a grouchy one at that. If you only saw that part of his life, you wouldn't think much about his worth, right? Maybe he was a "productive" member of society, but not a very nice one. Then he changed for the better. He saved a bunch of Jewish people from the Nazis, that's pretty awesome, right? But until he did that, if he had questioned his worth as I had, he would have decided he shouldn't exist. And then how fucked would those Jews have been?
The important thing to see here is not that he was suddenly worth anything, but that he always was. It was because he had the potential to change, the potential to do something awesome, that he had inherent worth. But hindsight is 20/20, right? Not if you subscribe to the idea that everyone always has that potential. The hard part is thinking this way about people we hate. That Kony asshole, for example. Or Hitler, if you want to stay with that theme. They may do (or have done) terrible things, but while they are still alive, they still have the potential to do something amazing.
And so do you.
If you are reading my blog (which I don't think anyone but bots are at the moment), you are depressed, have been depressed before, or know someone in those first two conditions. Or you just think I'm awesome, whatever. But I know how it feels: everyday is a struggle to get out of bed, or just generally give a flying fuck about anything. And reading this may feel like I'm telling you to just stop being a total asshole and cure cancer already. I'm not. What I'm saying here, is that you have an inherent, inalienable right to be here, no matter how shitty you feel, or how little you feel you have accomplished. And it is not because you might one day jump out of bed and save little Timmy from a well. It is because you have the potential to even ACCIDENTALLY help someone. Did you know that World Wars I and II were really big catalysts to moving psychology into the realm of real science? Just saying. Shitty things happen. Shitty people exist. But it doesn't mean that it shouldn't have happened or that they should just off themselves. Because we cannot possibly know their potential--ever--unless it affects us directly. You may never know your own real potential/worth unless you are specifically told how you affected the world.
If you are anything like me, this may help clear some things up but not really make you feel better about life. This could, however, give you permission to do the things that make you feel better. Or even the extra oomph you may have needed to start practicing something that could help you express the worth you already have.
Friday, August 1, 2014
Check-In and Behavioral Activation
I'm a little late in posting this, but here it is! *dun-dundun-duuuuun*
Yeah, so my daily goals were not really reached this past week. I did, however, get the rest of the transcription done for my book (basically just typing up what had been hand-written by me a million years ago), so I was able to print that section and start editing. This is something that you already knew if you follow me on Twitter. You don't--not yet--but that's okay!
I have the same goals as before, including trying to find a place to volunteer, and another place to get a job. Other than that, I also want to squeeze in a little more drawing in my "art therapy journal" thing (technical terms, you see), just for the hell of it. It beats watching TV. Although that seems to be the only way my husband and I spend time on the weekdays because he's so exhausted after work, so it might just have to be drawing while watching TV, but I can handle that.
Mood-wise I've been pretty even-keel. A little guilt has sprouted up here and there, and I was depressed as shit for a little bit at the VA (who doesn't get that way there, though?), but nothing too out of the ordinary.
Also, just a comment on the Behavioral Activation thing I've been doing recently; it's been neat. While I haven't completely overhauled my schedule, it has made some genuine improvements since I've been writing down what I've actually done while keeping in mind what I need/want to do. I have been trying to schedule my days by the hour for months now, but never really got to the point of following said schedule. With the daily activity log, I am able to reevaluate how I spent my time, and how I could rearrange everything to fit the important stuff into my day. This is a lot smoother than just trying to shoehorn and guilt certain activities in; it's almost more natural feeling. "Okay, I wanted to take long walks with the dog everyday, but yesterday I decided to play video games because it was too damn hot and by the time I thought about it again, it was too late. So let's adjust the time I go out and maybe set an alarm," and then, gradually, it changes.
And it's so easy that I'm mad at myself for not having thought of it! Here's a quick, simplified guide for you.
All of this was done in collaboration with my current therapist, Dr. S. She's pretty fucking legit and very realistic, so I'm hoping I get to work with her long-term. *crosses fingers*
So anyway, enough about me; how has your week been?
Yeah, so my daily goals were not really reached this past week. I did, however, get the rest of the transcription done for my book (basically just typing up what had been hand-written by me a million years ago), so I was able to print that section and start editing. This is something that you already knew if you follow me on Twitter. You don't--not yet--but that's okay!
I have the same goals as before, including trying to find a place to volunteer, and another place to get a job. Other than that, I also want to squeeze in a little more drawing in my "art therapy journal" thing (technical terms, you see), just for the hell of it. It beats watching TV. Although that seems to be the only way my husband and I spend time on the weekdays because he's so exhausted after work, so it might just have to be drawing while watching TV, but I can handle that.
Mood-wise I've been pretty even-keel. A little guilt has sprouted up here and there, and I was depressed as shit for a little bit at the VA (who doesn't get that way there, though?), but nothing too out of the ordinary.
Also, just a comment on the Behavioral Activation thing I've been doing recently; it's been neat. While I haven't completely overhauled my schedule, it has made some genuine improvements since I've been writing down what I've actually done while keeping in mind what I need/want to do. I have been trying to schedule my days by the hour for months now, but never really got to the point of following said schedule. With the daily activity log, I am able to reevaluate how I spent my time, and how I could rearrange everything to fit the important stuff into my day. This is a lot smoother than just trying to shoehorn and guilt certain activities in; it's almost more natural feeling. "Okay, I wanted to take long walks with the dog everyday, but yesterday I decided to play video games because it was too damn hot and by the time I thought about it again, it was too late. So let's adjust the time I go out and maybe set an alarm," and then, gradually, it changes.
And it's so easy that I'm mad at myself for not having thought of it! Here's a quick, simplified guide for you.
- Think about what you value, what your goals are.
- Think about little steps you could make every day to advance (move toward) those goals.
- Write 1 & 2 down, then plan out your week. Add in school/work/other obligations and then fill in just a few of those steps. Don't overwhelm yourself, obviously. Just one little thing will do. Have every day planned (not necessarily every hour, and remember to remain flexible as life constants shifts).
- Write down next to what you planned, what you actually did, how much you enjoyed it (1-10) and then how much you feel you achieved doing each of those things (1-10). This way, you can assess how those activities fit in with either your goals or even just relaxing/self-care. Because you don't have to always be doing something crazy-goal-oriented.
- When (not if) you fuck up, forgive yourself. No one's perfect, you included. You are going to have a day where everything is planned, and you spend it (especially if you are depressed) lying in bed eating Cheetos. It happens. Shrug it off, and evaluate why you did it. If you were just too overwhelmed, cut back in your schedule. If you just wanted a day to eat Cheetos, fuck it. You did it. Now start back up tomorrow and don't worry too much about "making up" for today.
All of this was done in collaboration with my current therapist, Dr. S. She's pretty fucking legit and very realistic, so I'm hoping I get to work with her long-term. *crosses fingers*
So anyway, enough about me; how has your week been?
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
PIOP
Psychiatric Intensive Out-patient Program, or PIOP, was something I got put into by one of the good doctors I saw while in the military. It was basically a two-week long, seven to eight hour therapy group. The "curriculum" used several different techniques such as art therapy, psychodrama, CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy), and just regular talk/group therapy. I think there were six of us.
PIOP was the first time I ever did any kind of group therapy, and I was nervous as all hell. I don't particularly like speaking even one-on-one with someone I know, but this was in front of a group of strangers. Needless to say, Clonazepam was my best friend those two weeks.
The schedule differed a little everyday, and certain things like art and drama were only used a few times, but everyday we started with saying how last night went and then with a kind of warm-up. The warm-up was fairly simple--a family-friendly mash-up of musical chairs and "Never Have I Ever," or a race-type game involving CBT trivia--just to make us a little more apt to talk later.
This was a few years ago, so I can't remember all of it. I do, however, remember getting caught up in other people's therapy. This was after I decided I needed to be a therapist, so I was fascinated by the process.
Basically, one person would be convinced to talk about why they were there and about their past, and the rest of us were encouraged to comment, ask questions, and challenge that person's inconsistencies and distortions. I, being the weird, awkward fuck I am, really enjoyed this part. Listening to their stories and then giving them feedback.
Then it was my turn.
One of them expressed some solidarity when it came to my past abuse, but when it came to my biggest problem, no one--not even the facilitators--know what to say. I was struggling with the concept of self-worth. Not self-esteem, but worth. You can't have self-esteem unless you also agree that you are not simply taking up space and resources with your existence. It was a kind of existential crises that I was dealing with everyday, that no one there had even considered. They took their right to exist for granted. I'm sure it is probably an evolutionary thing. I did eventually figure this out, but that's another post. Basically they told me I "think too much."
Art therapy was fun, but not really helpful at the time. Psychodrama was lame except for a quick moment where I actually believed myself when I said that "I'm not worthless," and CBT and learning the drama triangle were enlightening, but I wouldn't use that until later.
All in all, it was a great experience. Most hospitals don't call it PIOP, but I'm willing to bet a lot have something similar; so if you need it, I'd totally recommend it.
Friday is another check-in, and Monday I'll write more on the whole "self-worth" thing.
Be well!
~ML
PIOP was the first time I ever did any kind of group therapy, and I was nervous as all hell. I don't particularly like speaking even one-on-one with someone I know, but this was in front of a group of strangers. Needless to say, Clonazepam was my best friend those two weeks.
The schedule differed a little everyday, and certain things like art and drama were only used a few times, but everyday we started with saying how last night went and then with a kind of warm-up. The warm-up was fairly simple--a family-friendly mash-up of musical chairs and "Never Have I Ever," or a race-type game involving CBT trivia--just to make us a little more apt to talk later.
This was a few years ago, so I can't remember all of it. I do, however, remember getting caught up in other people's therapy. This was after I decided I needed to be a therapist, so I was fascinated by the process.
Basically, one person would be convinced to talk about why they were there and about their past, and the rest of us were encouraged to comment, ask questions, and challenge that person's inconsistencies and distortions. I, being the weird, awkward fuck I am, really enjoyed this part. Listening to their stories and then giving them feedback.
Then it was my turn.
One of them expressed some solidarity when it came to my past abuse, but when it came to my biggest problem, no one--not even the facilitators--know what to say. I was struggling with the concept of self-worth. Not self-esteem, but worth. You can't have self-esteem unless you also agree that you are not simply taking up space and resources with your existence. It was a kind of existential crises that I was dealing with everyday, that no one there had even considered. They took their right to exist for granted. I'm sure it is probably an evolutionary thing. I did eventually figure this out, but that's another post. Basically they told me I "think too much."
Art therapy was fun, but not really helpful at the time. Psychodrama was lame except for a quick moment where I actually believed myself when I said that "I'm not worthless," and CBT and learning the drama triangle were enlightening, but I wouldn't use that until later.
All in all, it was a great experience. Most hospitals don't call it PIOP, but I'm willing to bet a lot have something similar; so if you need it, I'd totally recommend it.
Friday is another check-in, and Monday I'll write more on the whole "self-worth" thing.
Be well!
~ML
Monday, July 28, 2014
The Stupid Journey
So I have already talked about my general life story leading up to this point. It was long, depressing, and possibly boring for you all to read it. Now, let me tell you a little better of a story: my string of therapists.
My first one ever was when I was about 16. He seemed friendly enough. This is how our first (and only) session went:
"Hi, ML, I'm Dr. ____"
"Hi."
[insert forty minutes of silence]
"Okay, that's all we have time for!"
"...Al-alright..."
The end.
Yes, this guy decided to go all psychoanalytical on a sixteen year old girl without ever explaining the process. I was already really shy and nervous, why the hell would I ever talk to this guy without any kind of lead? Ah, well, maybe the next one will be better. (Spoiler alert: not really)
The second guy, I saw twice. The first time, mom and I sat in his office and we talked in a really vague manner about what was going on, and then he proceeded to diagnose me with ADD. Then he decided I should get an IQ test (which apparently is a good measure for ADD? I have no idea), just to be sure. I took the test a couple days later, and then the second appointment, he wanted to dive right into my issues for real (after "confirming" ADD)....with my mom still in the freakin' room.
So, no. But I did get to find out my IQ, which was pretty cool.
The next one was a lady. She was older, friendly, and actually seemed to know what she was talking about (in retrospect), but she talked to me like a kindergartner. Literally.
"OMG, hi, you must be ML! Well I'm ____ and we're going to have such a fun time!" What can I expect, really, mom chose her because she was a child therapist. I saw her one more time before I just couldn't take it anymore.
After her, I gave up on therapy for quite awhile. I just went to a psychiatrist for years. I hated it; I would get asked how I'm doing, and quickly get shot down because I'm talking too much. She was somewhat nice about it, but it was still jarring. Eventually, I ran out of insurance and then I moved when my husband got stationed in VA.
I didn't see anyone else until I after I joined the military. First, they put me on some horrible medication; it caused "brain-shivers" so badly that I almost crashed my car multiple times. Then they absolutely denied that a) it would cause side-effects and b) it would cause any kind of withdrawal symptoms (they called it "discontinuation effects" instead). Anyway, I got put back on Zoloft which is what I'm still on now. After pushing for it, they finally let me see a therapist.
This guy was very nice, sensible, knowledgeable, and not even too bad to look at--the only problem I had with him is that he was a newbie, so his idea of the human psyche was fairly inflexible. I am told that my insight is fairly high ("impressive" I've been recently told), and he didn't seem capable of understanding that. He just needs practice. I stopped seeing that guy because he got deployed.
They decided to shove me onto the civilians then. The first one I already mentioned here. She really needed her own bit of therapy and a refresher course in anxiety.
The second one was the miracle lady who made me realize that I should become a therapist myself. I say "miracle lady," because it was through her absolutely terrible therapy that I got over a pretty big hump in my life.
The next pair of people, a psychologist and a psychiatrist, were awesome. They cared, they knew what they were doing, they were easy to talk to (as much as military officers for a little E-2 can be), and they gave me a little more faith in finding someone in the profession to help me once I got separated from the military. It was also them who sent me to a military program called PIOP: psychiatric intensive out-patient program. I'll talk more about that later, but it was a really neat experience (not therapeutic, but neat!).
After them I had a pretty good string of civilian therapists in STL, only to have two of them leave because of job promotion or relocation. Those are, I think, the worst. You develop a rapport, spill your guts, cry a little, then you have to try to start all over again with someone else who you are terrified will suck or move, too.
Now I have a great (probably even the best, for me) therapist who really seems to understand both my issues and my dark, sarcastic humor. She is great and--surprise!--works at the VA. Who'd've thought anything good could come out of that hellhole?
To anyone who still hasn't yet found that "special someone" for your therapeutic process, just know that they are out there--you just have to keep looking for them. It may take a really, really long time (I don't sugarcoat this shit), but once you find them, it is SO worth it. My experience is that those who are actually psychologists tend to do better than social workers or counselors, but this is only me--I could just be a special case.
Anyway, I hope my story has been enlightening, hope-inspiring, or at the very least entertaining. I'd also LOVE to hear your stories--both good and cringe-worthy--so leave'em in the comments!
Keep lookin'!
~ML
My first one ever was when I was about 16. He seemed friendly enough. This is how our first (and only) session went:
"Hi, ML, I'm Dr. ____"
"Hi."
[insert forty minutes of silence]
"Okay, that's all we have time for!"
"...Al-alright..."
The end.
Yes, this guy decided to go all psychoanalytical on a sixteen year old girl without ever explaining the process. I was already really shy and nervous, why the hell would I ever talk to this guy without any kind of lead? Ah, well, maybe the next one will be better. (Spoiler alert: not really)
The second guy, I saw twice. The first time, mom and I sat in his office and we talked in a really vague manner about what was going on, and then he proceeded to diagnose me with ADD. Then he decided I should get an IQ test (which apparently is a good measure for ADD? I have no idea), just to be sure. I took the test a couple days later, and then the second appointment, he wanted to dive right into my issues for real (after "confirming" ADD)....with my mom still in the freakin' room.
So, no. But I did get to find out my IQ, which was pretty cool.
The next one was a lady. She was older, friendly, and actually seemed to know what she was talking about (in retrospect), but she talked to me like a kindergartner. Literally.
"OMG, hi, you must be ML! Well I'm ____ and we're going to have such a fun time!" What can I expect, really, mom chose her because she was a child therapist. I saw her one more time before I just couldn't take it anymore.
After her, I gave up on therapy for quite awhile. I just went to a psychiatrist for years. I hated it; I would get asked how I'm doing, and quickly get shot down because I'm talking too much. She was somewhat nice about it, but it was still jarring. Eventually, I ran out of insurance and then I moved when my husband got stationed in VA.
I didn't see anyone else until I after I joined the military. First, they put me on some horrible medication; it caused "brain-shivers" so badly that I almost crashed my car multiple times. Then they absolutely denied that a) it would cause side-effects and b) it would cause any kind of withdrawal symptoms (they called it "discontinuation effects" instead). Anyway, I got put back on Zoloft which is what I'm still on now. After pushing for it, they finally let me see a therapist.
This guy was very nice, sensible, knowledgeable, and not even too bad to look at--the only problem I had with him is that he was a newbie, so his idea of the human psyche was fairly inflexible. I am told that my insight is fairly high ("impressive" I've been recently told), and he didn't seem capable of understanding that. He just needs practice. I stopped seeing that guy because he got deployed.
They decided to shove me onto the civilians then. The first one I already mentioned here. She really needed her own bit of therapy and a refresher course in anxiety.
The second one was the miracle lady who made me realize that I should become a therapist myself. I say "miracle lady," because it was through her absolutely terrible therapy that I got over a pretty big hump in my life.
The next pair of people, a psychologist and a psychiatrist, were awesome. They cared, they knew what they were doing, they were easy to talk to (as much as military officers for a little E-2 can be), and they gave me a little more faith in finding someone in the profession to help me once I got separated from the military. It was also them who sent me to a military program called PIOP: psychiatric intensive out-patient program. I'll talk more about that later, but it was a really neat experience (not therapeutic, but neat!).
After them I had a pretty good string of civilian therapists in STL, only to have two of them leave because of job promotion or relocation. Those are, I think, the worst. You develop a rapport, spill your guts, cry a little, then you have to try to start all over again with someone else who you are terrified will suck or move, too.
Now I have a great (probably even the best, for me) therapist who really seems to understand both my issues and my dark, sarcastic humor. She is great and--surprise!--works at the VA. Who'd've thought anything good could come out of that hellhole?
To anyone who still hasn't yet found that "special someone" for your therapeutic process, just know that they are out there--you just have to keep looking for them. It may take a really, really long time (I don't sugarcoat this shit), but once you find them, it is SO worth it. My experience is that those who are actually psychologists tend to do better than social workers or counselors, but this is only me--I could just be a special case.
Anyway, I hope my story has been enlightening, hope-inspiring, or at the very least entertaining. I'd also LOVE to hear your stories--both good and cringe-worthy--so leave'em in the comments!
Keep lookin'!
~ML
Friday, July 25, 2014
Friday Check-In
Alright, so how do I do one of these? I guess however I feel like, huh? Don't worry, I'll get better at this one day...
This week was my second week of doing a Behavioral Activation time sheet. Week 1 is just putting down what you did everyday, and Week 2 is all about having a couple goals for yourself: having certain activities that will make you feel like you accomplished something, activities that you just really enjoy, and others that get you out of the house/socializing.
My goals this week have been journaling, writing, and taking my dog on long walks everyday. I had a trip to the grocery store and a trip to a great little coffee shop to get me out of the house, each instance planned for just one time at some point during the week. I also had a couple papers to write (big, final papers for my two summer courses at college). All of this seemed like it was going to take a lot out of me, but I started off excited, nonetheless.
The papers did NOT go well. I did, however, journal everyday (except yesterday, I'll get into that). Writing entails the revision, etc. of a novel I started in 2009. I'm on the third-ish draft right now, and haven't really been doing as much as I would like, this week included.
Blogging was a goal that I kinda made myself, since I just randomly decided to do in this new direction. I have to keep reminding myself that it won't be perfect, and (especially since I don't have an audience right now) doesn't have to be. This reminder should also help out my writing and schoolwork...perfection is something I really need to let go of.
Anyway, blogging--as you can see--went pretty well for this week.
Dog walking has been a little iffy, since it's been hotter than Hades's Ballsack. But what walks we have been on, she's loved--we have a lot more squirrels and such for her to want to murder.
I actually went out quite a bit. My husband has been rather supportive, and he tends to either drag me along for errands or send me out to get stuff. It also helped that I had to go to class (and I can't cook), so I was also motivated by hunger.
Socializing is a lot easier now, too, as I have two extra people living in my house.
So how has Behavioral Activation worked so far? ...Meh. But it's only been one week of adjustment. Like I said, I started off pretty excited (like usual) and really tried hard to get everything done. This excitement and hope gave me a lot of energy, but soon it wore off and I started to slack off on different things. After the paper fiasco, I really kinda just stopped caring again.
But that's where therapy comes in handy: talking through my issues with perfectionism helped me articulate my reasons behind why I put so much pressure on myself, which in turn helps the outside party (aka, Dr. S.) help me find a way to satisfy the needs that aren't being met.
SO
My goals for next week are the same, minus the papers, and adding on a) finding a job (that's not a part of the therapy, I just need monies), and b) finding a place to volunteer. Baby steps, guys, baby steps.
How's your week been? Any goals completed or new ones for the next week? I'd love to hear it, and even if you don't post them, I wish you luck on new ones, congratulate you on benchmarks reached, and know that ones on which you fell short, you will get eventually--just don't give up!
~ML
On Monday, I'll talk about my beautifully dumb string of terrible therapists as even more testament to not giving up, provide entertainment to those who don't need therapy, and hopefully make a nice connection with those who have had similar experiences.
This week was my second week of doing a Behavioral Activation time sheet. Week 1 is just putting down what you did everyday, and Week 2 is all about having a couple goals for yourself: having certain activities that will make you feel like you accomplished something, activities that you just really enjoy, and others that get you out of the house/socializing.
My goals this week have been journaling, writing, and taking my dog on long walks everyday. I had a trip to the grocery store and a trip to a great little coffee shop to get me out of the house, each instance planned for just one time at some point during the week. I also had a couple papers to write (big, final papers for my two summer courses at college). All of this seemed like it was going to take a lot out of me, but I started off excited, nonetheless.
The papers did NOT go well. I did, however, journal everyday (except yesterday, I'll get into that). Writing entails the revision, etc. of a novel I started in 2009. I'm on the third-ish draft right now, and haven't really been doing as much as I would like, this week included.
Blogging was a goal that I kinda made myself, since I just randomly decided to do in this new direction. I have to keep reminding myself that it won't be perfect, and (especially since I don't have an audience right now) doesn't have to be. This reminder should also help out my writing and schoolwork...perfection is something I really need to let go of.
Anyway, blogging--as you can see--went pretty well for this week.
Dog walking has been a little iffy, since it's been hotter than Hades's Ballsack. But what walks we have been on, she's loved--we have a lot more squirrels and such for her to want to murder.
I actually went out quite a bit. My husband has been rather supportive, and he tends to either drag me along for errands or send me out to get stuff. It also helped that I had to go to class (and I can't cook), so I was also motivated by hunger.
Socializing is a lot easier now, too, as I have two extra people living in my house.
So how has Behavioral Activation worked so far? ...Meh. But it's only been one week of adjustment. Like I said, I started off pretty excited (like usual) and really tried hard to get everything done. This excitement and hope gave me a lot of energy, but soon it wore off and I started to slack off on different things. After the paper fiasco, I really kinda just stopped caring again.
But that's where therapy comes in handy: talking through my issues with perfectionism helped me articulate my reasons behind why I put so much pressure on myself, which in turn helps the outside party (aka, Dr. S.) help me find a way to satisfy the needs that aren't being met.
SO
My goals for next week are the same, minus the papers, and adding on a) finding a job (that's not a part of the therapy, I just need monies), and b) finding a place to volunteer. Baby steps, guys, baby steps.
How's your week been? Any goals completed or new ones for the next week? I'd love to hear it, and even if you don't post them, I wish you luck on new ones, congratulate you on benchmarks reached, and know that ones on which you fell short, you will get eventually--just don't give up!
~ML
On Monday, I'll talk about my beautifully dumb string of terrible therapists as even more testament to not giving up, provide entertainment to those who don't need therapy, and hopefully make a nice connection with those who have had similar experiences.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Biography Lite, pt. 2
Last time I talked about my early childhood, and it was kinda depressing as hell. This is the second half of my story, and still kinda depressing/infuriating depending on where you are...but after this, I swear it'll be much better!
Socially, I was now awkward and nervous, always afraid I'd have to live through my experiences again due to trusting the wrong student. So friends were out.
Schoolwork was a no-go.
My parents were still too distracted to care or notice.
I was alone with no reason to feel any sense of self-worth.
When I was young, I wanted to run away, but I was too afraid I'd run into more evil people. When I started to understand I could die--around fifth or sixth grade--I was suicidal. My anxiety saved me, however, as I knew that even one minor miscalculation and I could end up paralyzed, brain-dead, or worse. So that's basically how I've spent the rest of my life to this point.
I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth, dropped out of college, then started a long, unfulfilling career in customer service. My boyfriend at the time--in 2007--dropped out of college and joined the Navy. I supported his decision, but was really jealous myself: I come from a relatively militaristic family. When he left boot camp, he went to 'A' school in Great Lakes, IL.
It was one particularly shitty night for me--sitting in my stained Taco Bell uniform, about to go to work--that he called. The conversation was fairly short as I had to leave soon, but it was the call in which he proposed to me.
Me? Really? The borderline hysterically depressed bitch who can't make anything of herself and can barely handle food service?
Yep.
I still can't quite figure it out now, but we've been married since November of that year so I must be doing something right. Anyway, 2010 rolls around and I'm now fairly stable, emotionally. I'm healthy, mostly happy, getting better by the day...so fuck it--let's enlist!
Now I'm not Wonder Woman, but I'm not the Penguin, either, and I made a 90 on the ASVAB so I could pick any job I want; AD, no contest. I was so ecstatic that I cried all one and a half hours home from MEPS. Finally--I get to make myself and my family proud and have a job that actually means something.
In boot camp. I'm fucking loved the physical side of it all; the recruits are all stupid fucks, but I was in the best shape of my life and I still felt like I'm going to make a difference.
One month in--halfway through--and something's wrong. I was bleeding like crazy every night, and it felt like I was shitting razor blades. Everything else was fine, so the HMC told me to just stop eating peanut butter (because he doesn't bother to listen to more than half of what I say). This didn't help, obviously, but I push through to 'A' school in FL. The doctor there took one look and told me that I have Crohn's disease.
"It's incurable, but it's treatable, and you'll probably have to be medically discharged."
He set me up with a GI doc at the hospital and practically shoved me out the door. My only information about Crohn's at this point was Google and WebMD.
So now I'm alone, about to go through physical hell, and terrified. I've always had a fear of doctors, so this doesn't help. One day I write to my husband, telling him we need to find him a good mother for his future children, and how I loved him and just wanted to best for him and how I couldn't give that to him anymore...basically, my plan was find him a good wife and then off myself.
Because I was already given shore duty, they allowed me to transfer despite my medical condition. I really wish I hadn't. My new command hated broken people. And that's all I was to them: broken. I couldn't do heavy lifting, I couldn't exercise with them, I couldn't stand for too long...I was useless, and they made sure I never fucking forgot it.
It actually got so bad that my GI doc asked me if someone was hurting me. My posture, demeanor, and even vocabulary had changed to the point where he thought someone was beating the shit out of me. Nope, I'm just hated and verbally berated everyday because I'm a useless human being, is all...I was told I could change commands, but they said they couldn't guarantee that it was going to be any better.
During this time I was seeing different therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, and counselors. I won't go into all the different people I saw, as that's another post, but one of them was particularly helpful in how fucking awful she was as a therapist. After not listening to a word I said and asking me about my sister for the third time that session (the one that I have never had), I had a mini-breakdown. I felt like no one understood what it was like to just suddenly become disabled like I had. No one cared. And mainly, no one could help. But here's where it gets awesome: I realized that I understood. I cared. And with training, I could help others like me.
I was already going to be kicked out of my life purpose once. But this gave me hope that I would find it again. I just have to get through school...
And that's where I am now.
This Fall will be my third year in school majoring in psychology. I'm still battling depression, and have resigned myself to the idea that I probably will be forever. But my struggle has purpose now, and I'm trying my damnedest to remember that.
Next time I'm checking in, and I encourage all of you to do so as well--I'll be setting goals for myself for the next week, and evaluating how I did this week, so come join me! Monday will be a sort of fun shaming of the process I went through to find a therapist worth talking to, and hopefully these stories will help someone realize that it just takes time (and a LOT of trial and error) to get in a good spot.
Thanks, guys!
~ML
Socially, I was now awkward and nervous, always afraid I'd have to live through my experiences again due to trusting the wrong student. So friends were out.
Schoolwork was a no-go.
My parents were still too distracted to care or notice.
I was alone with no reason to feel any sense of self-worth.
When I was young, I wanted to run away, but I was too afraid I'd run into more evil people. When I started to understand I could die--around fifth or sixth grade--I was suicidal. My anxiety saved me, however, as I knew that even one minor miscalculation and I could end up paralyzed, brain-dead, or worse. So that's basically how I've spent the rest of my life to this point.
I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth, dropped out of college, then started a long, unfulfilling career in customer service. My boyfriend at the time--in 2007--dropped out of college and joined the Navy. I supported his decision, but was really jealous myself: I come from a relatively militaristic family. When he left boot camp, he went to 'A' school in Great Lakes, IL.
It was one particularly shitty night for me--sitting in my stained Taco Bell uniform, about to go to work--that he called. The conversation was fairly short as I had to leave soon, but it was the call in which he proposed to me.
Me? Really? The borderline hysterically depressed bitch who can't make anything of herself and can barely handle food service?
Yep.
I still can't quite figure it out now, but we've been married since November of that year so I must be doing something right. Anyway, 2010 rolls around and I'm now fairly stable, emotionally. I'm healthy, mostly happy, getting better by the day...so fuck it--let's enlist!
Now I'm not Wonder Woman, but I'm not the Penguin, either, and I made a 90 on the ASVAB so I could pick any job I want; AD, no contest. I was so ecstatic that I cried all one and a half hours home from MEPS. Finally--I get to make myself and my family proud and have a job that actually means something.
In boot camp. I'm fucking loved the physical side of it all; the recruits are all stupid fucks, but I was in the best shape of my life and I still felt like I'm going to make a difference.
One month in--halfway through--and something's wrong. I was bleeding like crazy every night, and it felt like I was shitting razor blades. Everything else was fine, so the HMC told me to just stop eating peanut butter (because he doesn't bother to listen to more than half of what I say). This didn't help, obviously, but I push through to 'A' school in FL. The doctor there took one look and told me that I have Crohn's disease.
"It's incurable, but it's treatable, and you'll probably have to be medically discharged."
He set me up with a GI doc at the hospital and practically shoved me out the door. My only information about Crohn's at this point was Google and WebMD.
So now I'm alone, about to go through physical hell, and terrified. I've always had a fear of doctors, so this doesn't help. One day I write to my husband, telling him we need to find him a good mother for his future children, and how I loved him and just wanted to best for him and how I couldn't give that to him anymore...basically, my plan was find him a good wife and then off myself.
Because I was already given shore duty, they allowed me to transfer despite my medical condition. I really wish I hadn't. My new command hated broken people. And that's all I was to them: broken. I couldn't do heavy lifting, I couldn't exercise with them, I couldn't stand for too long...I was useless, and they made sure I never fucking forgot it.
It actually got so bad that my GI doc asked me if someone was hurting me. My posture, demeanor, and even vocabulary had changed to the point where he thought someone was beating the shit out of me. Nope, I'm just hated and verbally berated everyday because I'm a useless human being, is all...I was told I could change commands, but they said they couldn't guarantee that it was going to be any better.
During this time I was seeing different therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, and counselors. I won't go into all the different people I saw, as that's another post, but one of them was particularly helpful in how fucking awful she was as a therapist. After not listening to a word I said and asking me about my sister for the third time that session (the one that I have never had), I had a mini-breakdown. I felt like no one understood what it was like to just suddenly become disabled like I had. No one cared. And mainly, no one could help. But here's where it gets awesome: I realized that I understood. I cared. And with training, I could help others like me.
I was already going to be kicked out of my life purpose once. But this gave me hope that I would find it again. I just have to get through school...
And that's where I am now.
This Fall will be my third year in school majoring in psychology. I'm still battling depression, and have resigned myself to the idea that I probably will be forever. But my struggle has purpose now, and I'm trying my damnedest to remember that.
Next time I'm checking in, and I encourage all of you to do so as well--I'll be setting goals for myself for the next week, and evaluating how I did this week, so come join me! Monday will be a sort of fun shaming of the process I went through to find a therapist worth talking to, and hopefully these stories will help someone realize that it just takes time (and a LOT of trial and error) to get in a good spot.
Thanks, guys!
~ML
Monday, July 21, 2014
Biography Lite, pt. 1
Childhood.
I grew up with both a mother and father living at home for most of my life. We weren't ridiculously poor (as far as I was aware), we were white, we were American, we lived in the suburbs. All of these were very obvious advantages. But there's always something isn't there?
Daddy worked nights mostly, so I rarely saw him conscious. This left mom to take care of me herself. She was very depressed, however, and seem to feel abandoned, alone, undervalued, and also a little like she deserved it. This led to a lot of "go play outside" intermingled with over-protective coddling and smothering. I also had two older half-brothers: one who lived with us only during the summer, and the other who lived with us most of the year until he turned 18.
The one who usually played nice (a saint compared to the older brothers of other girls I knew) was the one gone most of the time, while the elder brother was much too old for me to play with. He was just entering the sulky/angry teenager phase, if I recall correctly.
Other than the basics, my memory of my childhood is largely incomplete. This is due to the coping mechanisms of a 6 to 8 year old girl going through a long and hellish ordeal: trauma and abuse I won't really get into here, perpetrated by three people two houses down from where I lived. This was my main source of learning for those years since I was so young, and when I start talking about CPT, I'll mention more about how that period of time is where I got most of my "stuck points" (yeah, I know that sounds more like "hippie crap").
Anyway, these experiences changed me. I became nervous around others. My once utterly fearless self was reduced to a socially crippled, overly cautious, and highly distrusting child. I didn't deal with what had happened properly, because no one was there to help, so all I could do was repress, withdraw, dissociate, and eventually develop depression. Just like my mom, I had become hopeless and alone, and I had begun to feel like I deserved it.
Pretty much from that point on, I had been either self-isolating or ostracized by others just about constantly. There have been good things, of course (such as my previously-mentioned husband), but that's for part two.
UGH--so this is just too depressing, amirite? Here, for making it this far, here's a reward:
Better? Of course not, but that part's over.
So anyway...I have always been trying to better myself (I suppose that's a logical route for someone who hates themself to take) through religion or knowledge, or practicing different talents I had, but I never really found what I was looking for. And of course I never got over my mental problems (if you could just "get over it" there wouldn't be Ph.D.s for that kind of thing). What I did get was a gift.
A wonderful, useful, life-altering gift: my depressive journey.
Wait, no! Where are you going? Let me explain!
I promise this isn't some stupid New-Age-y thing. This is a legitimate feeling that took nearly 27 years to fully appreciate, which is why I'm writing this now.
I'm not cured of my depression. Realistically, I've accepted that I may never be. But after really thinking about it and looking at all the insight I've gained and the opportunities I'll have to help others once I (one day) graduate with a degree...I couldn't help but re-frame it.
It is a purpose, a career, and an advantage--it's still a goddamn pain in my ass, but a beneficial one, nonetheless.
As for the Crohn's...I'll talk about that on Wednesday. But after that, this will stop being such a depressing string of posts, I promise!
Next time: "Biography Lite, pt 2: The Military and Crohn's, or Why I Hate the CCFA.
Keep on keeping on guys!
~ML
I grew up with both a mother and father living at home for most of my life. We weren't ridiculously poor (as far as I was aware), we were white, we were American, we lived in the suburbs. All of these were very obvious advantages. But there's always something isn't there?
Daddy worked nights mostly, so I rarely saw him conscious. This left mom to take care of me herself. She was very depressed, however, and seem to feel abandoned, alone, undervalued, and also a little like she deserved it. This led to a lot of "go play outside" intermingled with over-protective coddling and smothering. I also had two older half-brothers: one who lived with us only during the summer, and the other who lived with us most of the year until he turned 18.
The one who usually played nice (a saint compared to the older brothers of other girls I knew) was the one gone most of the time, while the elder brother was much too old for me to play with. He was just entering the sulky/angry teenager phase, if I recall correctly.
Other than the basics, my memory of my childhood is largely incomplete. This is due to the coping mechanisms of a 6 to 8 year old girl going through a long and hellish ordeal: trauma and abuse I won't really get into here, perpetrated by three people two houses down from where I lived. This was my main source of learning for those years since I was so young, and when I start talking about CPT, I'll mention more about how that period of time is where I got most of my "stuck points" (yeah, I know that sounds more like "hippie crap").
Anyway, these experiences changed me. I became nervous around others. My once utterly fearless self was reduced to a socially crippled, overly cautious, and highly distrusting child. I didn't deal with what had happened properly, because no one was there to help, so all I could do was repress, withdraw, dissociate, and eventually develop depression. Just like my mom, I had become hopeless and alone, and I had begun to feel like I deserved it.
Pretty much from that point on, I had been either self-isolating or ostracized by others just about constantly. There have been good things, of course (such as my previously-mentioned husband), but that's for part two.
UGH--so this is just too depressing, amirite? Here, for making it this far, here's a reward:
 |
| This is my dog. :) |
So anyway...I have always been trying to better myself (I suppose that's a logical route for someone who hates themself to take) through religion or knowledge, or practicing different talents I had, but I never really found what I was looking for. And of course I never got over my mental problems (if you could just "get over it" there wouldn't be Ph.D.s for that kind of thing). What I did get was a gift.
A wonderful, useful, life-altering gift: my depressive journey.
Wait, no! Where are you going? Let me explain!
I promise this isn't some stupid New-Age-y thing. This is a legitimate feeling that took nearly 27 years to fully appreciate, which is why I'm writing this now.
I'm not cured of my depression. Realistically, I've accepted that I may never be. But after really thinking about it and looking at all the insight I've gained and the opportunities I'll have to help others once I (one day) graduate with a degree...I couldn't help but re-frame it.
It is a purpose, a career, and an advantage--it's still a goddamn pain in my ass, but a beneficial one, nonetheless.
As for the Crohn's...I'll talk about that on Wednesday. But after that, this will stop being such a depressing string of posts, I promise!
Next time: "Biography Lite, pt 2: The Military and Crohn's, or Why I Hate the CCFA.
Keep on keeping on guys!
~ML
Saturday, July 19, 2014
New Direction and Goals
So as I already said on the sidebar, I am thinking about taking this blog in a different direction. I'm going to keep the previous posts up, and I will not entirely abandon the academic angle, either. I just really need to stop trying to be what I am not. I am not a doctor, an academic (I'm a college student, but not a very studious one), or even a fully functioning individual at this point.
This does not mean I have nothing of value to say, however! I just have nothing truly to say from those viewpoints. So then, what am I?
So here's what's going to happen: I'm going to start on Monday. July 21, 2014, I will begin writing a sort of biography to catch you all up on what brought me to this point. Most likely it will be a 2-part post ending on Wednesday. On Friday, I will start the weekly tradition of checking in: looking at what I accomplished throughout the week, how I've felt emotionally and physically, goals I can set up for the next week, and so on. I encourage all of you to check in as well! Post your goals, express concerns, share your triumphs, and give others a kind word or two.
The other two days (hopefully always Monday and Wednesday), I'll write on different topics: what depression is like, resources, tips, different therapies I've tried and what I thought of them, etc., and I will try my best to cite peer-reviewed sources as appropriate.
I admit, I definitely got the inspiration to start this due to the BBC's show Sherlock. John Watson's blog is far more entertaining than anything I'll write here, I'm sure, but this is more therapeutic for me. This is also in conjunction to the recent introduction of Behavioral Activation therapy into my regimen. I'm supposed to be writing something daily, so I figure this would be a good excuse as any to share my story.
Here's to better health, yeah?
~ML
This does not mean I have nothing of value to say, however! I just have nothing truly to say from those viewpoints. So then, what am I?
- I am a depressed person; I have Major Depression Disorder, as a matter of fact.
- I am a medically retired Navy vet due to Crohn's Disease.
- I am in an awesome marriage with an even more amazing husband.
- I am a writer.
So here's what's going to happen: I'm going to start on Monday. July 21, 2014, I will begin writing a sort of biography to catch you all up on what brought me to this point. Most likely it will be a 2-part post ending on Wednesday. On Friday, I will start the weekly tradition of checking in: looking at what I accomplished throughout the week, how I've felt emotionally and physically, goals I can set up for the next week, and so on. I encourage all of you to check in as well! Post your goals, express concerns, share your triumphs, and give others a kind word or two.
The other two days (hopefully always Monday and Wednesday), I'll write on different topics: what depression is like, resources, tips, different therapies I've tried and what I thought of them, etc., and I will try my best to cite peer-reviewed sources as appropriate.
I admit, I definitely got the inspiration to start this due to the BBC's show Sherlock. John Watson's blog is far more entertaining than anything I'll write here, I'm sure, but this is more therapeutic for me. This is also in conjunction to the recent introduction of Behavioral Activation therapy into my regimen. I'm supposed to be writing something daily, so I figure this would be a good excuse as any to share my story.
Here's to better health, yeah?
~ML
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
For the Interim...
I have officially started school for the summer, so I am a little behind in my "real" life. However, I have not entirely forgotten about you (the, probably, one other person who reads this blog)! So, until I have time to write something a little more substantial, allow me to suggest a couple of sites for you.
First, there is freepsychotherapybooks.org. This site is 100% legit in that it is totally free and totally legal. They have a lot of books (and even a few workbooks) that have to do with therapy, disorders, relationships, creativity, and much, much more. You just download the books onto your computer and/or tablet and then read. Some books have epub files you can use for your Nook, and some are pdf. only.
The book I just recently finished and *highly* recommend for anyone dealing with this issue, is Living with Chronic Depression: a Rehabilitation Approach, by a Dr. Jerome D. Levin. It starts off really basic, talking about all different kinds of treatments for depression--most of them you probably already know, and those you don't you might want to give a try--and can kind of make you feel worse as you read it. BUT, after you get past that, it really starts to delve into causes and theories and ends up making visible that elusive light at the end of the tunnel. I actually credit this book along with a new course of therapy for my recent upswing. Even if you don't like it, check out the rest of the books, too. What's the harm?
Another site is more for a quick pick-me-up, called Boggle the Owl. Boggle is an owl, and he is worried about you! It isn't a cure for depression, but it is freakin' adorable. Boggle is really good at sending off the vibe of "unconditional positive regard" and he is ready to take your questions and concerns. Yes, it's a tumblr page, but give him a chance--he really loves you!
I hope these pages give you something to do while I work on myself, my homework, and a quality article for you.
~Be well!
First, there is freepsychotherapybooks.org. This site is 100% legit in that it is totally free and totally legal. They have a lot of books (and even a few workbooks) that have to do with therapy, disorders, relationships, creativity, and much, much more. You just download the books onto your computer and/or tablet and then read. Some books have epub files you can use for your Nook, and some are pdf. only.
The book I just recently finished and *highly* recommend for anyone dealing with this issue, is Living with Chronic Depression: a Rehabilitation Approach, by a Dr. Jerome D. Levin. It starts off really basic, talking about all different kinds of treatments for depression--most of them you probably already know, and those you don't you might want to give a try--and can kind of make you feel worse as you read it. BUT, after you get past that, it really starts to delve into causes and theories and ends up making visible that elusive light at the end of the tunnel. I actually credit this book along with a new course of therapy for my recent upswing. Even if you don't like it, check out the rest of the books, too. What's the harm?
Another site is more for a quick pick-me-up, called Boggle the Owl. Boggle is an owl, and he is worried about you! It isn't a cure for depression, but it is freakin' adorable. Boggle is really good at sending off the vibe of "unconditional positive regard" and he is ready to take your questions and concerns. Yes, it's a tumblr page, but give him a chance--he really loves you!
I hope these pages give you something to do while I work on myself, my homework, and a quality article for you.
~Be well!
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
It's okay if you talk to yourself...
I have recently just come out of a fairly deep stint of depression, and so I have only just now gotten enough energy to write anything at all. One of the things I wanted to write was a complete "re-do" of the first couple of entries on this blog. But having just looked over it, I think my best course of action would be to look at the questions I asked, and then answer them to the best to my ability.
This format is not quite what I wanted for this blog, but I think it's important to try to answer one's own questions instead of just waiting for someone else to answer them.
...it's just when you start to answer yourself that it's time to worry...
If that phrase is correct, then I guess it's time to worry! It's not, but I thought it was an appropriate aphorism to mention...anyway, I'm going to start with the first article.
"Can the same things that bring someone from -8 to 0, also bring someone from 0 to +8? (and/or vise versa?)"
This question is kind of cute, in retrospect. If you read my last article, then you know that due to a sort of unregulated immersion into positive psychology, I kind of either triggered or worsened a depressive episode. Like I said there, however, I truly believe that (if done correctly) one can be treated for depression with positive psychology, but a technique involving it would have to be carefully constructed in order to not come off inappropriately. When I say "inappropriately," I mean a few things:
Condescending. Positive psychology can come off VERY condescending--it is very similar to the whole, "you're not really depressed, you're just in a bad mood" that is so common to hear these days. It's the "just get over it" of advice. It isn't actually that, it just sounds that way when you are depressed. Especially if you have been told the other kinds of advice--it makes it much harder to accept anything positive, really.
Cheesy/Corny. Quick, tell me what you think about this phrase: "laughter is the best medicine" or: "turn that frown upside down." If you are cynical (like me), then you probably rolled your eyes. If you are almost hatefully cynical (like I can be), then you probably equated it with the above. It's slightly different than being condescending, but not by much.
Impossible. This is more along the lines of what I said in my last post about how I felt trying to apply positive psychology to my own life: How am I supposed to identify and improve on my signature strengths, when I'm just trying to convince myself that I should continue to live?
So to answer my own question, with a careful application of principles and an emphasis on patience and kindness (much with any other "learning" types of therapy), positive psychology could absolutely bring someone from a -8 to 0. This is a topic I'm going to have to really think about though, before I post too much more on it.
"Just how stable is mental health?"
This is actually a bigger question than I had realized back then! Measuring the stability of mental health requires the definition of mental health overall. The newest discussion on this I've seen (yes, still my positive psych class), has been pushing the idea that mental health is not just the absence of illness (physical health as well, by the way), but the presence of "flourishing." This is one of those things that makes a depressed person recoil a bit--ugh, what a corny word: flourishing. This is actually a great way to look at things, just so long as you allow for the state of "stability" to be in there. Flourishing, I feel, would be almost impossible to do 100% of the time, specifically when tragedy strikes.
Notice how I said "almost impossible?" It is my understanding (for now) that the true measure of mental health is not your current state, but your current ability to cope with negative events, and how that coping affects your current state. So while a tragedy may make you grieve, your ability to cope with that grief is a better measure of your mental health than the fact that you are grieving. For example:
If "Bill" suddenly had a death in the family, he would start the grieving process. Knowing that grieving is perfectly natural, he makes sure to take care of himself during this difficult time. He also keeps an eye on the rest of his family, makes sure they also know that whatever they feel is okay, and spends time with supportive persons in order to properly heal. He might laugh at this time, he might cry, he might even be angry, but whatever he does, he keeps tabs on his physical health and remembers to do the things that he has always done to make himself happy, even if he does not feel happy at the time. "Bill" is flourishing, despite the pain he feels at the loss of a loved one. He would be a great example of a +8. Now, if everyone around him starts dying off one by one, he loses his house, his job, his wife, his dog, and even his physical health--all in the span of a few months...he may just need to get some help. His number may slip a little if none of his coping techniques help, and it may slip a lot if he abandons them altogether.
Now if Bill simply couldn't cope at all with the original loss, he's not necessarily at a -8, but he sure isn't a +8. And this is okay, too. It takes a lot of work and maturity to be a +8, and most of us will never achieve this in our lifetimes.
This is fairly similar to (my limited understanding of) physical health. Right now, each of our immune systems are dealing with foreign invaders--germs--and for the most part, are killing any threats. Every once in a while, one gets through our defenses and we get colds or the flu, but if we are always taking good care of our bodies, this happens far less often than someone who does not. So practicing positive psychology as at least a 0 is a lot like remembering to eat your veggies and exercise when you are in moderately good health. Then the better you are at doing either one, the healthier and more resistant to natural detriments you become.
Finally,
"How would you operationalize this scenario?"
This question was referencing the article talking about studying a family laughing together. It is also still a question to me. I suppose any sort of research done like this would have to be more qualitative as opposed to quantitative, but either way, one would have to just be more specific than saying "studies on a family laughing together." What are you studying really? Why they laugh? How laughing helps the parents to discipline their children? How laughing strengthens familial bonds (by looking at confidence levels the children hold for their parents or something similar)? The list goes on. And I suppose any of these are relevant...so I guess it's not a question to me anymore. Hm.
Anyway, thanks for staying patient while I answered my own questions. Next time, I'll probably write an unrelated article before moving on to the second terribly written set of questions, in order to give you something of substance to read as a break.
~Deuces!
This format is not quite what I wanted for this blog, but I think it's important to try to answer one's own questions instead of just waiting for someone else to answer them.
...it's just when you start to answer yourself that it's time to worry...
If that phrase is correct, then I guess it's time to worry! It's not, but I thought it was an appropriate aphorism to mention...anyway, I'm going to start with the first article.
"Can the same things that bring someone from -8 to 0, also bring someone from 0 to +8? (and/or vise versa?)"
This question is kind of cute, in retrospect. If you read my last article, then you know that due to a sort of unregulated immersion into positive psychology, I kind of either triggered or worsened a depressive episode. Like I said there, however, I truly believe that (if done correctly) one can be treated for depression with positive psychology, but a technique involving it would have to be carefully constructed in order to not come off inappropriately. When I say "inappropriately," I mean a few things:
Condescending. Positive psychology can come off VERY condescending--it is very similar to the whole, "you're not really depressed, you're just in a bad mood" that is so common to hear these days. It's the "just get over it" of advice. It isn't actually that, it just sounds that way when you are depressed. Especially if you have been told the other kinds of advice--it makes it much harder to accept anything positive, really.
Cheesy/Corny. Quick, tell me what you think about this phrase: "laughter is the best medicine" or: "turn that frown upside down." If you are cynical (like me), then you probably rolled your eyes. If you are almost hatefully cynical (like I can be), then you probably equated it with the above. It's slightly different than being condescending, but not by much.
Impossible. This is more along the lines of what I said in my last post about how I felt trying to apply positive psychology to my own life: How am I supposed to identify and improve on my signature strengths, when I'm just trying to convince myself that I should continue to live?
So to answer my own question, with a careful application of principles and an emphasis on patience and kindness (much with any other "learning" types of therapy), positive psychology could absolutely bring someone from a -8 to 0. This is a topic I'm going to have to really think about though, before I post too much more on it.
"Just how stable is mental health?"
This is actually a bigger question than I had realized back then! Measuring the stability of mental health requires the definition of mental health overall. The newest discussion on this I've seen (yes, still my positive psych class), has been pushing the idea that mental health is not just the absence of illness (physical health as well, by the way), but the presence of "flourishing." This is one of those things that makes a depressed person recoil a bit--ugh, what a corny word: flourishing. This is actually a great way to look at things, just so long as you allow for the state of "stability" to be in there. Flourishing, I feel, would be almost impossible to do 100% of the time, specifically when tragedy strikes.
Notice how I said "almost impossible?" It is my understanding (for now) that the true measure of mental health is not your current state, but your current ability to cope with negative events, and how that coping affects your current state. So while a tragedy may make you grieve, your ability to cope with that grief is a better measure of your mental health than the fact that you are grieving. For example:
If "Bill" suddenly had a death in the family, he would start the grieving process. Knowing that grieving is perfectly natural, he makes sure to take care of himself during this difficult time. He also keeps an eye on the rest of his family, makes sure they also know that whatever they feel is okay, and spends time with supportive persons in order to properly heal. He might laugh at this time, he might cry, he might even be angry, but whatever he does, he keeps tabs on his physical health and remembers to do the things that he has always done to make himself happy, even if he does not feel happy at the time. "Bill" is flourishing, despite the pain he feels at the loss of a loved one. He would be a great example of a +8. Now, if everyone around him starts dying off one by one, he loses his house, his job, his wife, his dog, and even his physical health--all in the span of a few months...he may just need to get some help. His number may slip a little if none of his coping techniques help, and it may slip a lot if he abandons them altogether.
Now if Bill simply couldn't cope at all with the original loss, he's not necessarily at a -8, but he sure isn't a +8. And this is okay, too. It takes a lot of work and maturity to be a +8, and most of us will never achieve this in our lifetimes.
This is fairly similar to (my limited understanding of) physical health. Right now, each of our immune systems are dealing with foreign invaders--germs--and for the most part, are killing any threats. Every once in a while, one gets through our defenses and we get colds or the flu, but if we are always taking good care of our bodies, this happens far less often than someone who does not. So practicing positive psychology as at least a 0 is a lot like remembering to eat your veggies and exercise when you are in moderately good health. Then the better you are at doing either one, the healthier and more resistant to natural detriments you become.
Finally,
"How would you operationalize this scenario?"
This question was referencing the article talking about studying a family laughing together. It is also still a question to me. I suppose any sort of research done like this would have to be more qualitative as opposed to quantitative, but either way, one would have to just be more specific than saying "studies on a family laughing together." What are you studying really? Why they laugh? How laughing helps the parents to discipline their children? How laughing strengthens familial bonds (by looking at confidence levels the children hold for their parents or something similar)? The list goes on. And I suppose any of these are relevant...so I guess it's not a question to me anymore. Hm.
Anyway, thanks for staying patient while I answered my own questions. Next time, I'll probably write an unrelated article before moving on to the second terribly written set of questions, in order to give you something of substance to read as a break.
~Deuces!
Monday, April 14, 2014
Dental Work, or: Why Positive Psychology Can be a Pain For the Depressed Client
Teeth cleaning. This phrase may cause some of you a little anxiety, but for the most part, nothing's wrong with it, right? You go in, someone pokes around in your mouth, and eventually does what you do every morning and night but with industrial-grade tools and a little more efficiency. Overall this is an important part of one's health. It should even be done twice a year to keep tartar under control and check for early signs of problems.
But now imagine that you have an abscessed tooth. Pain radiates every second of every day--so bad, it's literally almost deafening. Now imagine your dentist recommends that all you need to fix it is a good cleaning. If you have had the displeasure of an abscessed tooth, then you just screamed at me. The pain a cleaning would cause is probably a sufficient excuse for murder in some states, so why would any self-respecting dental patient put themselves through this?
They wouldn't! Unless they just didn't know better.
The past semester I have been in a Positive Psychology class (if you couldn't tell from everything else I've written here), and the topic is fascinating. I love the idea of improving everyone's quality of life so that mental illness is largely prevented...but what about those who are "legitimately" depressed? Those who cannot make it through an entire day without anti-depressants, or those who self-mutilate due to the numbness caused by dissociation? What about those who stare at themselves in the mirror, begging their reflection to finally give them the strength to commit suicide? Are they going to benefit from understanding the intricacies of human happiness? What about the Hedonic Treadmill?
A lot of what I learned in positive psych, as far as exercises and therapies go, are the psychological equivalent of getting one's abscessed tooth hit with a water pick. This is NOT to say that positive psychology cannot help someone with depression; I just think it would be in everyone's best interest if this somewhat new form of therapy was parsed out in such a way that it can be used by depressed individuals without doing more damage than good.
But, really, you ask. How can you be so certain that positive psychology could hurt anyone? I mean, positive is right in the name!
Well, I know because I have an abscessed tooth...of the brain. (?) Okay, so the metaphor broke down a little there, but you know what I'm saying. I am a "depressed individual" and I have just gone through months of unbridled exposure to positive psychology: its concepts, its background, its possible and future applications...and let me tell you--the days where I wasn't simply enthralled with it, it sucked.
How can I make a list of three good things everyday, when I am literally trying to find one good reason not to slit my wrists?
How can I think of ways to enter/maintain a state of "flow," when I haven't found a way to make myself shower for the past week?
And don't even get me started on the despair that can come when trying to think of someone who is a fourth degree of separation from yourself (how far someone has to be from you before their happiness stops affecting your own) when you haven't spoken a single word to someone other than your spouse in over three months.
[Disclaimer] I'm doing much better now, don't worry (hell, the biggest evidence of that is that I'm actually writing something for the first time in forever). And to my positive psych teacher (who will inevitably read this), don't you worry, either. I don't hold you nor this class responsible for any ill health I may have been experiencing. If anything, it has been my responsibility for not re-framing all the information in a way for my depressed mind to digest. Re-framing is something I'll have to master anyway, if I plan on making it through the years of learning psychology and counseling, intact.
But my point is that, while positive psychology is AWESOME at getting people from a "0 to a positive 8," getting someone from a "negative 8 to 0" is a whole other process. This process is a delicate one--so delicate, in fact, you have to go to school in order to be legally allowed to help with it. So to those who are practicing or plan to practice psychology at some point...just keep this in mind. I plan on laying out suggestions as to how to do this in the future. These suggestions will be full of assumptions and conjecture, but perhaps will help design a "test plan" for an experimental treatment of depression one day.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
The Hedonic Treadmill vs. the Eudaimonic Staircase
The hedonic treadmill model is one of my favorite concepts. I heard about it a long time ago, and ended up forgetting what my source was (probably something like cracked.com), but it stuck with me even then as an important construct. What researchers say is a "pessimistic conclusion" (Waterman, 2007), I sought refuge in: we cannot truly impact our lifetime happiness in any permanent way (Brickman & Campbell, 1971). Some see this as we will always be our same, depressing selves no matter what we do or buy, but I thought of it as a license to take risks and a comforting mantra for when life got hard.
Diener, Lucas, and Scollon (2006), wrote an article discussing the pessimistic nature of the hedonic treadmill and how to revise it, focusing more on "qualifying" certain aspects of it. The changes revolved around two main ideas: that individuals are different (coping strategies, individual set points), and that this affective adaptation is not as bad as it sounds (set points are not neutral, happiness set points can change). In the spirit of half-done classwork, I was going to stop there. I decided, however, to gather at least one or two other sources for the hedonic treadmill idea so I wasn't basing all of my ideas on one article.
I am really glad I did that.
In response to the originally assigned reading, A. S. Waterman (2007) wrote about a concept I had never heard before called eudaimonia. While hedonia is the pursuit of physical pleasures, eudaimonia is the pursuit of pleasure through the mastery of self and one's skills. To reference my precious article about "flow," eudaimonia is essentially the lifelong pursuit of flow experiences. Eudaimonic happiness is suggested by Waterman to be much longer-lasting and sustainable, and the adaptation process for it is much better understood. He was the one that used the term "staircase" in this situation, as "the opportunities for increasing levels of challenge in any endeavor are almost limitless" (2007).
This information has sent me down a rather exciting rabbit hole, but that's for a different article. In the meantime, I will still think of the hedonic treadmill as being comforting (as I currently like my happiness set point), but will also think about taking the "staircase" much more often.
References:
Brickman, P. & Campbell, D. T. (1971). Hedonic relativism and planning the good society. In M. H. Appley (Ed.), Adaptation level theory: A symposium (pp. 287-302). New York: Academic Press.
Diener, E., Lucas, R. E., & Scollon, C. N. (2006). Beyond the hedonic treadmill: Revising the adaptation theory of well-being. American Psychologist, 61, 305-314.
Waterman, A. S. (2007). On the importance of distinguishing hedonia and eudaimonia when contemplating the hedonic treadmill. American Psychologist, 62(6), 612-613.
Diener, Lucas, and Scollon (2006), wrote an article discussing the pessimistic nature of the hedonic treadmill and how to revise it, focusing more on "qualifying" certain aspects of it. The changes revolved around two main ideas: that individuals are different (coping strategies, individual set points), and that this affective adaptation is not as bad as it sounds (set points are not neutral, happiness set points can change). In the spirit of half-done classwork, I was going to stop there. I decided, however, to gather at least one or two other sources for the hedonic treadmill idea so I wasn't basing all of my ideas on one article.
I am really glad I did that.
In response to the originally assigned reading, A. S. Waterman (2007) wrote about a concept I had never heard before called eudaimonia. While hedonia is the pursuit of physical pleasures, eudaimonia is the pursuit of pleasure through the mastery of self and one's skills. To reference my precious article about "flow," eudaimonia is essentially the lifelong pursuit of flow experiences. Eudaimonic happiness is suggested by Waterman to be much longer-lasting and sustainable, and the adaptation process for it is much better understood. He was the one that used the term "staircase" in this situation, as "the opportunities for increasing levels of challenge in any endeavor are almost limitless" (2007).
This information has sent me down a rather exciting rabbit hole, but that's for a different article. In the meantime, I will still think of the hedonic treadmill as being comforting (as I currently like my happiness set point), but will also think about taking the "staircase" much more often.
References:
Brickman, P. & Campbell, D. T. (1971). Hedonic relativism and planning the good society. In M. H. Appley (Ed.), Adaptation level theory: A symposium (pp. 287-302). New York: Academic Press.
Diener, E., Lucas, R. E., & Scollon, C. N. (2006). Beyond the hedonic treadmill: Revising the adaptation theory of well-being. American Psychologist, 61, 305-314.
Waterman, A. S. (2007). On the importance of distinguishing hedonia and eudaimonia when contemplating the hedonic treadmill. American Psychologist, 62(6), 612-613.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Flow
This is a wishy-washy sounding word, with an even wishy-washy-er sounding definition. Until you actually understand what it is about.
"Flow" is the feeling you get when you do something that is just the right amount of easy and challenging and is something you enjoy doing. It is like when you can't put down a particular book, or you get lost in the moment while playing an instrument. When experiencing flow, you lose track of time, and even after hours of doing this activity you feel mentally refreshed.
Once you have found this activity and engage in it frequently, the balance starts to shift. The challenge of it starts to diminish and you must find a way to make it more challenging in order to continue the flow experience. The awesome thing is you may not even realize that it's happening (Nakamura & Csikszentmihalyi, 2003).
For example:
In middle school, I played the flute. I started because I had to have an intramural class and I didn't like my other choices. When I first started, by band director had us playing with just the mouthpieces, but gradually we worked our way up to playing several notes in a succession that somewhat sounded like music.
After playing my first real song (probably something like "Hot Crossed Buns"), I was hooked. I would sit at home and play literally for hours. I moved ahead in the book to more complex pieces because I got bored of the same three notes. I used the fingering chart in the back to learn more, my parents hired a wonderful woman to give me private lessons, and I got new scores to play from. Soon, I was one of the best in the band and it became a source of great pride for me. At my peak I played an average of seven hours a day, just for fun. (I also didn't have any friends, but that's beside the point!)
That is flow. And it is awesome.
References:
Nakamura, J. & Csikszentmihalyi, M. (2003). The construction of meaning through vital engagement. In C. L. M. Keyes & J. Haidt (Eds.), Flourishing: Positive psychology and the life well-lived (p.83-104). Washington, DC: American Psychological Association.
There is also a video I got some information from, but it was in class. I'll have to get the info from my professor so I can cite it here.
"Flow" is the feeling you get when you do something that is just the right amount of easy and challenging and is something you enjoy doing. It is like when you can't put down a particular book, or you get lost in the moment while playing an instrument. When experiencing flow, you lose track of time, and even after hours of doing this activity you feel mentally refreshed.
Once you have found this activity and engage in it frequently, the balance starts to shift. The challenge of it starts to diminish and you must find a way to make it more challenging in order to continue the flow experience. The awesome thing is you may not even realize that it's happening (Nakamura & Csikszentmihalyi, 2003).
For example:
In middle school, I played the flute. I started because I had to have an intramural class and I didn't like my other choices. When I first started, by band director had us playing with just the mouthpieces, but gradually we worked our way up to playing several notes in a succession that somewhat sounded like music.
After playing my first real song (probably something like "Hot Crossed Buns"), I was hooked. I would sit at home and play literally for hours. I moved ahead in the book to more complex pieces because I got bored of the same three notes. I used the fingering chart in the back to learn more, my parents hired a wonderful woman to give me private lessons, and I got new scores to play from. Soon, I was one of the best in the band and it became a source of great pride for me. At my peak I played an average of seven hours a day, just for fun. (I also didn't have any friends, but that's beside the point!)
That is flow. And it is awesome.
References:
Nakamura, J. & Csikszentmihalyi, M. (2003). The construction of meaning through vital engagement. In C. L. M. Keyes & J. Haidt (Eds.), Flourishing: Positive psychology and the life well-lived (p.83-104). Washington, DC: American Psychological Association.
There is also a video I got some information from, but it was in class. I'll have to get the info from my professor so I can cite it here.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
The Value of Positive Emotions
Week two readings for my class started with:
Fredrickson, B. L. (2003). The value of positive emotions. American Scientist, 91, 330-335.
This article is also aptly named. The basic summary is that Fredrickson has done research on the short term and long term effects of emotions, both positive and negative, and looked at it from an evolutionary perspective.
According to this researcher, negative emotions have been studied more than positive ones for a couple of reasons: a) they are easier to differentiate, and b) they negatively effect humanity (imagine that). Therefore we have much more information on what these emotions do to us mentally and physically.
The theories behind negative emotions and why we have them, all come down to survival. Fear sends a larger amount of blood to the extremities, facilitating the "fight or flight" response. Disgust invokes a need to "expectorate" (such a nice word!) Anger prepares the body for an offensive attack (2003).
The big mystery was why do we have positive emotions? The leading theories had still revolved around survival, that positive emotions were just a signal that there were no threats around. But Fredrickson has conducted and studied others' experiments that give a little more insight. Inducing participants with a positive affect seemed momentarily to broaden their thoughts, increasing creativity and creating mental "room" to think about larger concepts. This would suggest that positive affect would allow for our ancestors to switch from the narrow concept of survival to broader ideas of growth, curiosity, and a pursuit of novelty. This is a lot like tracing a tree's growth through the winter and summer; the darker, thinner rings are due to slowed growth in winter as the tree merely "survives" (actually goes dormant, but you get the idea), with accelerated growth in the summer.
The long-term effects of positive emotions seem to be building a resilience against negative events in the future, protecting one from depression. I mentioned this before, kinda, in the "article #2" post:
Another long-term effect is an "undoing" of what negative affect does to us. When we are in the "fight or flight" mode mentioned earlier, the increased cardiovascular activity damages our heart and blood vessels, leading to atherosclerosis. Positive emotions and experiences helps to repair ourselves (Fredrickson, 2003)--which makes a lot of evolutionary sense: get chased by tiger, harm body; outrun tiger, have a laugh with our monkey buddies, recover body and repair damage. There are, of course, a lot of other physiological problems caused by stress that can be repaired in time with a positive affect, but this is the particular example (minus the monkeys) that the article touches on.
The author ends with saying that an artificial injection of positivity with humor or something similar may be beneficial, but not always appropriate in hard times. She suggests "finding benefits within adversity, [...] infusing ordinary events with meaning, and [...] effective problem solving" (2003).
Image provided courtesy of nuttakit / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Fredrickson, B. L. (2003). The value of positive emotions. American Scientist, 91, 330-335.
This article is also aptly named. The basic summary is that Fredrickson has done research on the short term and long term effects of emotions, both positive and negative, and looked at it from an evolutionary perspective.
According to this researcher, negative emotions have been studied more than positive ones for a couple of reasons: a) they are easier to differentiate, and b) they negatively effect humanity (imagine that). Therefore we have much more information on what these emotions do to us mentally and physically.
The theories behind negative emotions and why we have them, all come down to survival. Fear sends a larger amount of blood to the extremities, facilitating the "fight or flight" response. Disgust invokes a need to "expectorate" (such a nice word!) Anger prepares the body for an offensive attack (2003).
 |
| Tree rings show minimal or "narrowed" growth in the winter and accelerated or "broadened" growth in the summer. |
The long-term effects of positive emotions seem to be building a resilience against negative events in the future, protecting one from depression. I mentioned this before, kinda, in the "article #2" post:
In the first sentence of the article, it talks about preventing pathologies "that arise when life is barren and meaningless" (Seligman and Csikszentmihalyi, 2000).However, I do stand by Fredrickson's conclusion on this topic. She talks about resilience, not about whether or not our life has meaning. Which, by the way, I believe to be a really subjective measurement. What makes me believe my life has meaning may not at all be what you think gives my life meaning (if you even think my life does have meaning).
"Don't you mean, perceived as barren and meaningless?"
To say it any other way implies that people with meaningful lives simply cannot develop mental illness, and while I believe (and evidence suggests) that meaning in one's life can help to prevent or lessen mental illness, it still happens. Or am I just wrong about this?
Another long-term effect is an "undoing" of what negative affect does to us. When we are in the "fight or flight" mode mentioned earlier, the increased cardiovascular activity damages our heart and blood vessels, leading to atherosclerosis. Positive emotions and experiences helps to repair ourselves (Fredrickson, 2003)--which makes a lot of evolutionary sense: get chased by tiger, harm body; outrun tiger, have a laugh with our monkey buddies, recover body and repair damage. There are, of course, a lot of other physiological problems caused by stress that can be repaired in time with a positive affect, but this is the particular example (minus the monkeys) that the article touches on.
The author ends with saying that an artificial injection of positivity with humor or something similar may be beneficial, but not always appropriate in hard times. She suggests "finding benefits within adversity, [...] infusing ordinary events with meaning, and [...] effective problem solving" (2003).
Image provided courtesy of nuttakit / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Doc and Chaps: Normalizing Psychology and Implementing Prevention Strategies
I've noticed quite a few articles that talk about prevention (including the first two articles for my positive psych class) and also trying to spread the word that psychology is not "just for crazies." But how do we do this?
The real life attempts I've seen have been interesting. Mental health fairs, talking posts, and advertising campaigns involving posters with a simple message: anyone can go to a therapist. But if you search for these terms, you'll see a lot about "awareness" themes focusing a lot on suicide and depression, or even just everyday stress. But these topics (while absolutely relevant and important) are the very reasons why the general public get scared away from us!
Think of all the reasons why people don't want to see a therapist:
- Freud. He is popularly known as a perverted psycho. While this may or may not be true, this is how a lot of people still see psychotherapy as a whole. They don't want to lay down on our couches and talk about how they want to bone their mother. That's just weird.*
- Avoidance. People spend a good portion of their lives trying not to think about sad or scary things. And, since this is what people think therapists are for, they try to avoid them. It's not necessarily healthy, but you can see where they are coming from, right?
- Misinformation. I'm sure that, if you are in the field of psychology or have told friends and family that that is what you are studying, someone, at some point in time, has asked you if you can analyze them or asked if you can read their mind. They feel like you are going to start probing their thoughts or some other crazy stuff (that would make therapy a lot easier, I bet).
- Finally, a big part of it is that people feel like if they are associated with a therapist, they will be judged. A big movie trope is the lunatic who starts a date off with, "well, my therapist said..."
How can we change this?
Well, my first thought goes to the Navy, and the stark contrast between Naval physicians and chaplains versus the psychologists. "Doc" and "Chaps" were like local rock stars: they would walk around high-fiving, fist-bumping, telling jokes; even in their intimidating officer uniforms, you felt safe talking to them. When they just acknowledged your existence you felt special. But the psychologists, uniforms or no, hunkered down in their offices. They were stiff and uninviting, and if you had to go see them, it was usually because you were in trouble.
So:
What if we took this route? In schools and colleges and even in larger workplaces, have a different kind of "Doc" running around? Obviously, they wouldn't be seeing patients all the time, but they would be a kind of "ambassador," if you will, to the rest of the psych department. Someone to monitor morale and spread the word about these "mental health fairs" and "talking posts." But they wouldn't have to focus just on mental health, either. They could be the ones to announce different club meetings (at schools) and occasionally hand out treats, or whatever.
The only real drawback I see is if this person can't be seen as genuine. If it's too forced, it'll be obvious; introduction of this person would have to be slow. But I think if this idea is implemented all over the country (even the world, really), psychology as both a means for healing and for prevention could truly benefit.
What do you think?
*Not judging, just sayin'.
*Not judging, just sayin'.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Article #2 - Thoughts and Questions, et cetera...
Howdy folks! It is time for round two of "What is Positive Psychology?"
Last time, I gave a bare bones summary about both articles that were supposed to be read for week one, then wrote a bit about the first article until my eyes bled (obviously not in a literal way, but that's how it felt). Now it is time for article two, "Positive psychology: An introduction" (already sourced in the previous post).
This, by the way, is still a part of the "catch-up post," and does not entirely reflect my vision for this blog. Time is a precious commodity, and I do have deadlines to meet! :)
My take on the article and my notes and questions:
This article seems to have been an introduction not just to positive psychology, but to that particular issue of American Psychologist. It has a lot of name-dropping and summaries on individual studies/articles of the past, and all-in-all seems to focus more on what psychology as a whole lacks and how positive psychology will fill that void.
Interestingly enough, for an introduction to positive psychology it is a bit on the negative side. For example:
In the first sentence of the article, it talks about preventing pathologies "that arise when life is barren and meaningless" (Seligman and Csikszentmihalyi, 2000).
"Don't you mean, perceived as barren and meaningless?"
To say it any other way implies that people with meaningful lives simply cannot develop mental illness, and while I believe (and evidence suggests) that meaning in one's life can help to prevent or lessen mental illness, it still happens. Or am I just wrong about this?
Beyond this article's negative tone (though I will mention it again in a bit), there is also an odd attitude toward positive emotions and qualities that I honestly had no idea still prevailed in the field. Positive features of life (courage, hope, wisdom, etc.) are explained as "transformations of more authentic negative impulses."
"So...wait. Isn't this just Freud's 'sublimation?' Besides in a historical context, who cares about Freud anymore?"
Not to hate on the man or on psychoanalytical theory in general, but the idea that we paint and stuff because we can't go out and rape each other is kinda ridiculous.
"thriving communities" and "individuals are the authors of their own evolution"
Nothing of note here--these phrases just make me happy!
Another point mentioned was that people do things to feel alive. However, my thought is that they should. I have a feeling that this is not always the case, otherwise spreading the word about prevention and positive psych as a whole would not be necessary...right? And it's funny, because when I think of "prevention" I think about hand-washing. I can see why they have reminders to do so in bathrooms everywhere: it is an inconvenience. It's not particularly pleasurable (though if I don't I just feel gross), so we are not necessarily predisposed to washing our hands all the time, unless it is simply a habit. Doing things to feel alive, however...not doing them is a symptom of mental illness in of itself. I don't know, seems strange to me. (And is probably something I'm going to write about at a later date.)
A problem I have with a section of this article: it doesn't right out say that realism is pessimism, but definitely implies it. The quote:
"What is the relationship between positive traits like optimism...on the one hand, and being realistic on the other?" then, "Many doubt the possibility of being both."
...what? Does this mean there are a lot of educated people out there who really believe you cannot be both optimistic and realistic? Have they never heard the term, "optimistically realistic?" Or am I just reading this incorrectly?
Finally, the authors go on to say, "Is the world simply too full of tragedy to allow a wise person to be happy?"
My response: It is if you put it like that. I'm pretty sure that's just confirmation bias. If you are going to label the world as tragic, then you are throwing objectivity out the window. The same applied if you start with the idea that the world is beautiful, too; so don't go celebrating yet, you hippies. I'm just kidding, but seriously: that's why psychology is a science. Objectivity in observation, measurement, comparison, and deductions. If you don't like that, I have some snake oil to sell you!
Anyway, aside from my objections, I really do like the concept of positive psychology. Do you have any thoughts? Corrections? Objections to what I've said?
~[insert ridiculous-sounding goodbye here]!
Next up: Doc and Chaps, or Normalizing psychology and implementing prevention strategies.
Last time, I gave a bare bones summary about both articles that were supposed to be read for week one, then wrote a bit about the first article until my eyes bled (obviously not in a literal way, but that's how it felt). Now it is time for article two, "Positive psychology: An introduction" (already sourced in the previous post).
This, by the way, is still a part of the "catch-up post," and does not entirely reflect my vision for this blog. Time is a precious commodity, and I do have deadlines to meet! :)
My take on the article and my notes and questions:
This article seems to have been an introduction not just to positive psychology, but to that particular issue of American Psychologist. It has a lot of name-dropping and summaries on individual studies/articles of the past, and all-in-all seems to focus more on what psychology as a whole lacks and how positive psychology will fill that void.
Interestingly enough, for an introduction to positive psychology it is a bit on the negative side. For example:
In the first sentence of the article, it talks about preventing pathologies "that arise when life is barren and meaningless" (Seligman and Csikszentmihalyi, 2000).
"Don't you mean, perceived as barren and meaningless?"
To say it any other way implies that people with meaningful lives simply cannot develop mental illness, and while I believe (and evidence suggests) that meaning in one's life can help to prevent or lessen mental illness, it still happens. Or am I just wrong about this?
Beyond this article's negative tone (though I will mention it again in a bit), there is also an odd attitude toward positive emotions and qualities that I honestly had no idea still prevailed in the field. Positive features of life (courage, hope, wisdom, etc.) are explained as "transformations of more authentic negative impulses."
"So...wait. Isn't this just Freud's 'sublimation?' Besides in a historical context, who cares about Freud anymore?"
Not to hate on the man or on psychoanalytical theory in general, but the idea that we paint and stuff because we can't go out and rape each other is kinda ridiculous.
"thriving communities" and "individuals are the authors of their own evolution"
Nothing of note here--these phrases just make me happy!
Another point mentioned was that people do things to feel alive. However, my thought is that they should. I have a feeling that this is not always the case, otherwise spreading the word about prevention and positive psych as a whole would not be necessary...right? And it's funny, because when I think of "prevention" I think about hand-washing. I can see why they have reminders to do so in bathrooms everywhere: it is an inconvenience. It's not particularly pleasurable (though if I don't I just feel gross), so we are not necessarily predisposed to washing our hands all the time, unless it is simply a habit. Doing things to feel alive, however...not doing them is a symptom of mental illness in of itself. I don't know, seems strange to me. (And is probably something I'm going to write about at a later date.)
A problem I have with a section of this article: it doesn't right out say that realism is pessimism, but definitely implies it. The quote:
"What is the relationship between positive traits like optimism...on the one hand, and being realistic on the other?" then, "Many doubt the possibility of being both."
...what? Does this mean there are a lot of educated people out there who really believe you cannot be both optimistic and realistic? Have they never heard the term, "optimistically realistic?" Or am I just reading this incorrectly?
Finally, the authors go on to say, "Is the world simply too full of tragedy to allow a wise person to be happy?"
My response: It is if you put it like that. I'm pretty sure that's just confirmation bias. If you are going to label the world as tragic, then you are throwing objectivity out the window. The same applied if you start with the idea that the world is beautiful, too; so don't go celebrating yet, you hippies. I'm just kidding, but seriously: that's why psychology is a science. Objectivity in observation, measurement, comparison, and deductions. If you don't like that, I have some snake oil to sell you!
Anyway, aside from my objections, I really do like the concept of positive psychology. Do you have any thoughts? Corrections? Objections to what I've said?
~[insert ridiculous-sounding goodbye here]!
Next up: Doc and Chaps, or Normalizing psychology and implementing prevention strategies.
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