Tag Archives: mental-health

Out of touch

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21

I’ve been out of touch on here, just completely checked out. I’ve not blogged in at least two days. I think that’s a record for me, albeit not a good one.

I’ve had a lot on my mind.

  • There’s the suicidal ideation that I’m batting away like a mosquito.
  • I’m still trying to wrap my head around these “other parts of me.” Now that I know they are there I want to throttle them, quite frankly.
  • When I did acknowledge these “other parts” I realized that at least one part did not want me blogging these past few days, so I didn’t. I think they were happier with the rest from blogging. (Admittedly, I feel a bit off even admitting these things.)
  • I had to go to a work party today that had me feeling all sorts of wonky loca wiggy. I admitted to a colleague/friend that I took a Xanax just to get through the party. Her reaction was: “For this!?” Well, yes, given the sheer amount of people, 400+!, the alcohol and the loud music, yeah, it was a bit of a test for me. I was afraid of wigging out right there in the middle of the party.
  • Trying, trying, trying to fight the feeling of not wanting to be on this earth. I do small things, like start reading a number of books at the same time. Then I tell myself that I can’t be gone because I don’t know how they all end. I know, weird, but strangely effective.

That’s pretty much it, just trying to keep one foot in front of the other, day by day.

Keep on chugging

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I want to stop feeling the way I feel. It is not fruitful, nor is it productive.

All day today I felt low and dissociative. I did the whole “opposite to action” thing that they teach you in Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT). Oh, and pardon the commentary, but a lot of the time DBT annoys me, just saying …

I painted. I went to one of those pottery painting places that are mostly patronized by kids and moms. Here’s, the flower bank I chose to paint, mostly because it didn’t have any detail painting.

Then I went to a movie, a dark comedy called “Bernie” that reminded me why I left Texas in the first place. After that I went for a walk and listened to the “Hairspray” soundtrack while walking. “You Can’t Stop the Beat” and “Good Morning Baltimore” are usually my feel-good songs, guess not today. But, I suppose I don’t feel worse.

Oh yeah, I even bought some hot rollers! Apparently, I’ll try anything to feel better. We’ll see how those work out tomorrow.

The feeling of despair needs to go away. It scares me that I struggle to find reasons to continue every day. The dark thoughts in my brain make me very tired, and I am tired from working against them today.

A plain jane turkey dinner that I adored

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I’ve been feeling shaky on a consistent basis, I’m sorry to say. It’s been a full-time job trying to combat all of this shakiness and dissociation. Good thing it’s the weekend, I suppose.

As part of my quest to not dissociate I’ve been out of the apartment quite a bit. I dissociate substantially less when I am not at home. I was driving around this cute rural area I don’t know very well when I came across this little cafe at the end of the village. It was one of those places where the locals gather, and everyone talks to each other across the tables.

I found they had a turkey dinner as a special so I ordered it as it sounded like good comfort food. Here’s the thing with a turkey dinner: It’s great if it’s a gourmet meal, and it’s even better if it’s a plain jane turkey dinner. And, yes, I know that statement needs an explanation.

Before my mother married my stepfather we never had a Thanksgiving dinner at home. I’m assuming it was a combination of not being able to afford it, and my mother was likely working on Thanksgiving. Because of this, I always looked forward to the Thanksgiving turkey dinner they served in the school cafeteria the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I loved it all: the gummy mashed potatoes, the thin sliced turkey loaf, the boxed stuffing with an overabundance of parsley, a prefab bread roll, canned peas, and jellied cranberry sauce.

I would sit there and eat that turkey dinner and imagine that the potatoes were the right consistency, the turkey actually had skin and bones, the stuffing was homemade, perhaps with cornbread (yeah!), the vegetables were fresh, the bread was a homemade parker house roll (yes, as a poor kid in West Texas I was familiar with the concept of a parker house roll as an avid reader of cookbooks) , and you could see the berries in the cranberry sauce. I was likely one of few students who happily ate the entire dinner. In my mind I had eaten a Thanksgiving dinner fit for Martha Stewart!

It was a plain jane turkey dinner, and during the time I ate it I was present, calm and grounded.

Today when I eat such a dinner it makes me happy because it reminds me of the optimism I had as a child. Such a turkey dinner also gives me hope that I’ll be optimistic again someday.