diagnosis:

June 6, 2008

she said she didnt like to give diagnosis’s but she had to for my insurance reasons.

what was it you ask?

 

Major Depressive Disorder

 

its weird. I knew I was depressed, but hearing the diagnosis from a professional is different.

 

Not sure how I feel about that.

Sad. 

I feel sad.

 

help

June 3, 2008

i made the call.

I set it up with my insurance.

 

I left…. a message for a potential therapist.

 

Crap.  It seems like everytime I give an effort to give a shit about myself,
I don’t get anywhere.   I get the answering machine and then I have to wait.

Its been over 2 hours since I left a call, and since then, my boyfriend has told me that I need to put more effort into making more money so I can contribute more otherwise our relationship will not work out.

God I need a therapist. Please have her call back soon before I do something regrettable.

 

not good

May 21, 2008

Yeah. Last night was not good.

It started at work, on an errand, I had some trouble finding the parking lot for the store I went to (it was unmarked and shady looking) and then I couldnt find what I needed, and was on the wrong floor, and then when they said to pull my car around to the loading dock, the dock wasnt open, so I kept driving back and forth, and then all of a sudden, it was open and they stood their and looked at me like I was an idiot for taking so long.

That was ok.  I could have handled that.  No problem.

Then on the freeway coming back to work, I transitioned to the next freeway going North, but I really needed to go South.  Fuck.  This set me off, and I was instantly in tears, banging on my steering wheel.  I then proceeded to scream loudly (just so you know, I am not a screamer, I am very introverted and quiet and usually hold things in).  I screamed twice, and then turned around and went back to work.

Later, at home, I watched some election coverage and the speaches and ate dinner.  We decided to work on a promotional project of mine, which has taken quite a bit of time thus far, and we tried to figure out the text and what it would say.  This has been in my mind for days now, and nothing seems like it will work.  I finally got frustrated and gave up and started a bath for myself.  The BF came in and mentioned I easily get frustrated with things.  I mumbled “yeah” and he asked if I should be going for this freelance stuff and I mumbled “maybe not”

Then I proceeded to cry and sob in the bathtub for an hour, went to bed, cried some  more and fell asleep.

My eyes are tearing up right now thinking about it (and yes, they are very puffy from last night’s crying)

 

Here it is:

Am I doomed to work jobs I hate all my life?
Will I never be able to work on my own projects on my own time and enjoy them?
Can I not handle freelance jobs?
Can I not do what I want to do?

 

Should I just give up and go on disability and start an alcohol problem and eventually get to the point where I am suicidal?

I feel lost.

 

 

 

yoga is good

May 7, 2008

 

Last night I went to my yoga class to calm both my mind and lower back.

Nice relaxing restorative yoga class,
Oh how I love thee.

The final pose, Savasana, is where you lay flat on your back, with your knees bent and supported by blankets. We then go into a meditative state and concentrate on how different our body feels from the beginning of class, and concentrate on breathing.

Here is where I went:

I could feel light coming down on my face from above, even with my eyes closed. Slowly lifting my head, I opened my eyes and found myself in a carved red rock cave (see picture) all alone, quiet. I felt a presence there, something/someone larger than I, yet part of me as well. As I looked up into the light, feeling it cascade around my shoulders and down my arms, I felt calm (calm and complete).

I wished that feeling would last forever.

 

 

I also wish I could take that yoga class every evening.  If only the day was longer, yoga was cheaper, and closer to my home.

 

 

need?

April 24, 2008

So I heard back yesterday from “jo” at samaritans.org and it got me thinking (forgive me if I go WAY off on tangents…)

Definately was good to write all the stuff that was bothering me in an email and send it off to some stranger who is halfway across the world.  It was a bit releasing, like writing in this blog, but even more so.

The weird part was the response/questions I received back.  They seems a bit robotic at first.  Like the stereotypical  psychologist response: “and how does that make you feel”

Not having gone to therapy sessions, I guess I was just not used to this turn around and come back on me.  What did I expect?  I guess part of me expected the person to say that everything was going to be okay, that the best thing for me is to stick with what I am doing, go to my yoga classes, be thankful for what I have, yadda yadda yadda…

But I guess not.  So I wrote back, trying to answer the questions they came back with, and trying to be honest with myself.  One issue that came up:

My mother
(cue dramatic music here)

In writing to “Jo” I realized that I don’t have the support of my mom.  She loves me, yes. She wants me to succeed, but I think because she never took chances in life, (and I have, unsuccessfully at times) she doesn’t think that doing things outside the box will turn out ok.  Like my freelance work- HUGE for me to be out there like this- super insecure about myself and my work, and well, my last 2 clients hate me!  One won’t even return my emails.  This is not a good boost to my confidence, and makes that little mom voice in my head say, “you should settle down as a secretary at a large secure company and start a long career”

um… no. Even if the idea of being a secretary didn’t make me want to find sharp objects and hurl them in the air over my head, things don’t work like that, like the way they did in the 50’s, where you find a job, work hard, maybe become manager, work at that same company with yearly raises, bonuses until your 65, then retire with a fat pension and take the motorhome around the country for a few years until you end up on your recliner complaining about the nonsense Judge Wapner has to put up with.

Things just don’t work like that, and well, even if they did, I don’t think I would make it at a job like that til 65.  I would snap, and someone would get hurt.

So exposing myself and risking loosing my pride/sanity/hopes/whatlittleconfidanceididhave for doing some freelance work was so risky for me, and terrified me, and I haven’t gone forward with my self promotion stuff/business cards yet because these last two clients (who where undecided in what they wanted and big pains in the arse) are freaking me out.

 What if I can’t do this?

Am I going to burst out crying in frustration and be all pissed off everytime I work on a project?

Am I going to go to bed sobbing every night because I can’t do what people want me to do for their project?  Is this going to ruin my relationship with my BF?

AARGH

so, to get back onto the subject of samaritans.org, they did respond to my response, and are asking some provocative questions that are very useful in untangling the webs in my brain.  One question that has been rattling around in my head since I read it is ” do you really need your mom’s support for this”

wow.  I feel like I don’t have her support, and always felt like I wanted it, but do I really need it?
I need to think about that one for a bit.  (do I need it to succeed?  do I reaaaally need it?)

 

I suggest, even if you aren’t suicidal (which I don’t think I really am, but could picture myself being in the future…) if you just need some anonymous outsider comments that could help you figure things out, give them a try, email is so much easier than calling (at least for me)

Heck, you could even email me (or leave a comment) and we could share our woes and support each other…

 

(did that seem like a pathetic attempt to find friendship?)