I have power right now. Hardly anything of mine even got knocked around or whatever - my little folding plastic table fell down on the patio, and that’s it. Oh, yeah, and I have to reprogram my microwave’s clock, because the power flickered for like a second.
My sisters came over from our mom’s house for the morning because the house didn’t have power and there’s a heat advisory for the day, and the streets are kind of horrific (lots of debris, traffic lights out and people acting stupid, etc.) but this is the best I’ve had from a storm in a LONG time.
Ironically, this is also the first time in a while where we’ve had a bad storm and I don’t have work to go to. So it doesn’t matter (in that sense) that things weren’t awful.
In other news, I did therapy, and it was very difficult. Amongst other things, it was very much a “Demeter goes and sits down and thinks about all the things she has tried so hard not to think about” kind of deal - it’s one thing to say out loud “I only feel this OK because I haven’t been challenging myself” and it’s another to go out, challenge yourself, and then feel lousy. The (sort of) good news is, I’m less unsure about my status as a person who is experiencing a major depressive episode. Heh.
It was OK. I wasn’t the person who had the worst week, by even a long shot. And people had some good advice/thoughts about the disability thing. We also shared loads of information about the character and style of five or six regional psychiatric facilities (inpatient, partial, IOP,) which was good. I’ve gotten confirmation about the substance-abuse focus of one local hospital (even for people without comorbid addictions) and I finally got someone to tell me about the mysterious hospital whose staff won’t return my emails (they’re off my list, too.)
I was also able to get myself to swing by the grocery store and buy (yes, really) a tomato. I haven’t decided if I have enough energy to cook dinner, yet, but I can always have it for lunch.
My advice: take less than you are inclined to. Every single time you transfer you have to pack it all back up and drag it somewhere. You know how they’re all like “less than 70 pounds?” Yeah, no. Less than 35 pounds would be better.
Also, spend the money on a good jacket and good socks if you’re an elder. Really really really comfy shoes if you’re a sister. For socks I recommend getting Gold Toe or something similarly high-end.
Ask your bishop if it’s possible for people to donate via the Church’s internal system, or to send a check to your bishop - it’ll be easier to get the skeptical/nervous/not-wanting-to-reveal-their-real-name-to-you (hi!) involved.
I’ve been working on my mission paperwork and I have some financial problems. A couple Sundays ago I talked to my bishop about my situation and he told me that if I can raise at least $500 for my mission then the rest will be taken care of. I’ve applied at McDonald’s and haven’t been hired yet but…
My mood is better today. I have hardly at all been at the edge of tears, and I got things done, and I don’t really feel all that helpless/hopeless about much of anything. I even sang along to fun songs and felt better-than-neutral for a bit.
I convinced myself to get out of bed, I took a shower, I ate some cereal, and I said “no more sleeping!” several times in a moderately convincing tone of voice. I also caught up on Facebook and Tumblr while trying really hard to convince myself I meant it when I said “no more sleeping!”
I think maybe I should go somewhere outside of my house just so that I’ll be further away from my bedroom!
I strongly prefer the fifth Brandenburg Concerto to the other five. I hope this won’t make anyone hate me. I still remember the chaos that descended upon me when I finally decided which Harry Potter film I preferred most of all…
Know that feeling. Do you feel guilty about it, too, like you don’t deserve it? (I know THAT feeling, too!) I hope you can ENJOY this rejuvinating time. I hope your spirit gets refreshed. Keep us posted.
She built me my new chair! For the last… maybe eight years? Anyway, for a really long time, I’ve been sitting on various folding chairs while sitting at my computer. From 2004 to 2009 or so it was an ancient wooden chair (the kind you pull out for guests when you have way too many guests.) In 2009 I upgraded to black metal folding chairs. These were all my mom’s spare chairs; I borrowed them from her (even while I lived there with her this is what I used.)
Not enjoying stuff as much as I know I used to. I really want to buy myself a chocolate cake donut with chocolate icing and chocolate sprinkles. But I really really really really really really really REALLY want to ENJOY EATING a chocolate cake donut with chocolate icing and chocolate sprinkles. I want to taste it and feel really good. I want to take ridiculous hedonistic pleasure in each and every bite.
And odds are, if I bought a chocolate cake donut with chocolate icing and chocolate sprinkles, it would sit by my side for an hour or two before I remembered to bother eating it. And then I’d eat it, and it’d be… okay, I guess. Maybe I’d be crying by then because I’d made myself to eat it.
It would taste the same as ever, I know that. But I just… wouldn’t enjoy it anyway.
And it’s not just chocolate - it’s everything. They’ve done studies that prove that people with depression can tell things are still sweet. And it doesn’t matter; they don’t enjoy it. I don’t like doing any of my hobbies, I don’t enjoy doing a good job on things, I don’t… GLARGH.
I just want to really like stuff, and not just tell myself that I should like it.
There are these experiments that show that sleep deprivation is a decent short-term treatment for depressive symptoms; the effect disappears after you get a nap. Or, in my case, after about twelve to fourteen hours (I assume this is because of the bipolar disorder, and/or because I have atypical rather than melancholic/catatonic depression.)
I’ve finished my power of attorney, just in case (I’m worried that they may suggest I stay at the hospital when they find out what’s going on in my head.) And I’ve mostly taught people what they need to do to make sure my job basically gets done without me.
On Monday I meet with my psychiatrist and (hopefully) she signs me out of work. I have no idea for how long. I’m very close to just not doing anything at all.
In other news, a therapist from LDS family services called me today - J may not want me back, and I’m exploring my options. He seems nice, though I’ve never had a long-term male therapist. It’d be a little weird having a therapist with priesthood authority, I think. But maybe helpful, too.
And meanwhile I swore I’d drive across the state tomorrow morning at 5:30am. You had better believe I’m taking it easy after I’m done with work on Monday.
I’d consider it seriously. I am just so sick of stuff being lousy. I know this is depression talking but gosh darn it all, I’m really, really sick of it talking and am inclined to agree with it just to shut it up.
In other news, two more days of work before I go on disability for an unknown period of time. I’m hoping for a week of sleep.
I just added the words "don't forget to mention the hallucinations" to my notes for tomorrow.
I’m starting to think I might already know how this day is going to go. My NSSI (trigger warning) has been causing tissue damage, the only thing on my list of symptoms that I felt OK calling “mild” was the depersonalization, and I filled out the Beck Depression Inventory and got back a 43. Anything above 40 is “extreme” depression, from what I understand.
I would really very much like to be in remission already.
I’m meeting with my EAP counselor tomorrow morning. We may be deciding that I need to take some time off of work. When she suggested it a month ago I was all like “pshaw.” Now I’m more like… well…
The trouble is that I just don’t really care about much of anything at all. I don’t want to do anything, and I can’t convince myself to want to do anything. My wonderful, persuasive arguments for why I should go to work completely failed to rouse me from bed today - I didn’t make it in till almost 11am. My risk/reward systems are totally screwed up, and none of the CBTish tricks I know are having an impact.
Part of this probably has to do with going months without a good therapeutic relationship in place. But at this point that may not matter.
If she brings it up again I’m going to ask if maybe I ought to go back to IOP again. I don’t want to, but I really, really need to fix this soon. And anyway, I don’t actually want to do much of anything. Sigh.
(“Motivational anhedonia” is a term I found in this article, which is fascinating and ridiculously above my head.)
Do not feel bad or feel like you’re “behind” at all. You actually probably know a lot more about the gospel than a huge number of lifelong members - you’ve had conversations with the missionaries, you’ve had lessons, you’ve chosen the gospel, and very few BIC types can say that!
Yesterday, I was hanging out with a friend and she mentioned mormon underwear or whatever it’s called. I said “Oh! That stuff you wear that has something to do with marriage?” She looks at me with an annoyed expression. “You wear it in the temple too. Ugh. How can you be a baptized convert and…
I washed all my hand-washables, plus I did all the clothing-laundry and a load of kitchen towels.
I gathered and took out trash. (2 bags)
I got myself a “snack table" so I wouldn’t be eating my dinner on a towel on top of a folding chair.
I went to my mom’s and borrowed a cordless drill and learned how to use it, which is about 65% of the “install awesome curly hook things on my back patio” goal.
I didn’t do any Personal Progress stuff other than reading the Book of Mormon, and I didn’t do some other things on my list, but I’m going to pick a Personal Progress experience to do a bit of work on before bed, and one of the other things on my list I’m also going to do right now, so.
I have them A LOT when I’m experiencing bipolar/anxiety symptoms. They mostly go away when I’m euthymic; I’ve had months and months without any dreams I can remember at all.
Last night I dreamed that I was at my elementary school building. We were going to put on a production of Shakespeare’s The Tempest, using a modern Italian theme. ”We” being various people I know, but mostly people from work. My direct supervisor was responsible for most of the director-type activities. I got the script the day before the production, and I only had one chance to haphazardly read through it before they called an end to the rehearsal. I thought about trying to gather together some costumes and maybe read through my lines again (I wasn’t sure of which character I was going to be playing,) but I was too tired, so I didn’t.
Then I went to a staff meeting and was totally going to bring up the question of props, costumes, scenery, and not knowing my lines, but my supervisor had to talk over something with another member of the staff, and said they’d meet us in the auditorium. There was half an hour left to the curtain call, so I went home (2000 miles from my elementary school) and wandered around frantically trying to decide which of my clothes would best make me appear to be a middle-class rural Italian woman and which props would be useful. I remember being very worried about not knowing my lines - I realized as I was looking for props that I had better find a way of making sure the script would be appropriate in every scene. Luckily, I thought, part of The Tempest includes every single “let’s be bad actors trying to put together a play” moment from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Then I woke up.
I’m… not really clear on how I ought to interpret this one. I’m sticking with “geez, I have weird dreams when my moods are off balance!” That interpretation makes perfect sense.
That would be, obviously, the part where you’re not tired at midnight.
Except actually, I am tired - just not mind-goo level tired. I may not fall asleep instantly, but I’m reasonably sure I’ll fall asleep pretty soon.
I basically will have only slept like, nine hours on the 15th (stomach upsets woke me up a few times during the night.) But then I’ll sleep for about… probably 11 or 12 on the 16th, and then like 15 on the 17th. So the average will still be “way too much,” and it’d be more if it weren’t for the anxiety levels being so high.
(J is just going to LOVE dealing with me when we finally meet, exactly 14 days and 10 hours from now.)
And it’s actually bad enough that I’m going to take a bit of a nap, because I am afraid that if I don’t, I will actually start puking.
This is the downside of taking a risk like going to the support group yesterday - even though I survived and it wasn’t that bad, it’s still enormously stressful for a day or two afterwards. On balance it’s probably really good that I did it (like, in two weeks, I’ll be better off for having done it,) but the consequences of this kind of “fighting against the safe and easy way” stuff really can’t be ignored.
(I did eat lunch, at least. It was funny how confused I was about feeling so awful and dizzy this morning; it wasn’t till 9:30 that I remembered I hadn’t had anything to eat since before noon the previous day.)