Tuesday 3/14/23 Therapy

 Well, I just got home from therapy and I feel . . . weird. I don't know. 

So I think I've written before that my new therapist uses Internal Family Systems (IFS) as her main mode of, well, doing therapy. IFS basically says that we're made up of all these different parts - none of them "bad" - but all these different parts. Our job in therapy is to get to know these parts and nurture them, love them, give them what they need to thrive and work together inside of us. For example, today we worked with my "body image" part, my inner critic, and my "abandoned child" parts. IFS is completely different than what I'm used to doing in therapy. Mostly what Mike and I did in our sessions was talk therapy with some CBT thrown in for good measure. I've also done DBT and equine therapy. None of this is really that similar to IFS. It's a completely different animal. And it makes me . . . uncomfortable. I think because it is so different. 

I guess an example is warranted, right?

Okay. Let's take my body image part. I closed my eyes and imagined what this part would look like. What characteristics it had, its age, its memories. Everything I could imagine about it. Make it as concrete as possible. My therapist, Becky, guided me through this. How did this part feel? I determined that it was ageless but presented as a younger girl, maybe 7 or 8 years old, and felt ashamed and embarrassed. It felt small and maybe even weak. We tried to determine what this part needed to feel safe (I'm not sure). Maybe love and compassion. What was the earliest memory of this part (overhearing my step-mom comment on my weight and being embarrassed about being seen in my swimsuit after that - we were at a pool). Other things? Never feeling comfortable in my body. Not having confidence in my appearance. Always feeling "fat" or overweight, even when I wasn't. And when I wasn't overweight, not liking attention I was getting. 

I tend to binge eat. I've tried purging in the past but failed because for the life of me I can't make myself throw up. But I binge. In secret (sometimes out in the open, but mostly in secret). Binging because food temporarily makes me feel "better". Makes me feel calm. Makes me feel in control (when in reality I'm out of control). Food gave me a sense of comfort as a child while living in a chaotic, unpredictable environment (growing up with an alcoholic mother). Now, when I feel anxious/depressed/bored/tired/scared/or any number of other things, I binge. To try and seek comfort. To try and feel calm. To feel "better". My inner critic hates this part of me. Tries to shame and belittle it into not binging. Which makes the body image part feel bad and, probably, ultimately binge again. 

My job is to try and nurture this part. Show it compassion. Show it that I care for it and it can trust me. To show it that it doesn't need to binge anymore because I'm with it and care for it. And to give my inner critic another job besides mean-ass drill sergeant. Maybe it can be a coach and gently and lovingly work with the body image part to become better. 

So this is what we did in therapy today. Along with working a little with the abandoned child part of me as well. The abandoned child has been close to me since Mike retired as it was pretty horrifically triggered by that event. I already feel love and compassion for this part of me and have been trying to nurture it since that event. Even when I'm not aware I'm doing it. But now I need to consciously work with this part to heal. 

So yeah. That's IFS in a nutshell. It's totally different and I'm not quite sure how I buy into it yet. Time will tell, I suppose. 

In other news, this past week has been a little bit better mood wise. Although yesterday and this morning I was very meh. I did absolutely nothing yesterday, except read. I felt awful about that and I'm trying not to beat myself up over it (inner critic, I'm talking to you). This morning was also lazy with doing nothing but laundry and reading. I need to workout. I need to do things. I still just have no motivation or drive at all. And I hate that. Legit, really hate that. Even with doing nothing I feel like I have no time to myself. Like it's all work and volunteering and time is slipping away from me. I need to make better use of my time. I really do. But that's hard when the motivation is lacking. 

Anyway, I guess that's it. I have therapy again in 2 weeks. My homework is to be aware of my parts - especially the 3 we worked with today - and start trying to work with them instead of against them. So yeah. That's where I'm at.   

Monday 1/9/23 It's Monday

 Hooray. It's Monday. Such excitement. Much joy. Many sarcasm. 

Another week has gone by, a week filled with nothing special, really. I'm stuck in the doldrums. A little melancholy, very much meh or blah. I'm mostly just kind of . . . here. Existing. Carrying on, going through the motions, but not getting much done. I haven't drawn or painted in almost a month now. I'd like to, I just can't seem to do it. I have no inspiration or motivation, no drive. I have no motivation to do anything. Not even putting dishes in the dishwasher. Barely even basic hygiene (I really had to force myself to shower this morning and I put on basically no makeup - too much work). This, of course, doesn't help how I'm feeling. I look in the mirror and see an ogre. An ugly thing that isn't taking care of herself. And part of me doesn't care. 

Today is especially bad for some reason. Yesterday was bad too. Yesterday I was at work and getting annoyed and irritated by everything. I wasn't "feeling it". I was down and more quiet, though I tried not to be. Today I'm down as well and all I want to do is sleep. Sleep the day away. I feel slow and lazy and done with everything. And it's weird, because for as awful as I'm feeling right now I'm not flat. Not empty. Not how I normally am when I'm depressed. I have emotions (it's just that most of my emotions are negative right now). I would even say that I'm emotionally fragile. A song or a video on Facebook or Instagram could make me cry. Literally. It's frustrating. I don't want to feel this way. 

I had therapy last Thursday and it was over Zoom. I really prefer in person, but that wasn't an option last week as Mike had had hernia surgery and wasn't recovered from it yet. Zoom is better than nothing. I cried while recounting the infant death. I talked about the holidays and Ayden and his girlfriend. I felt it was a productive session but I left it feeling I needed more. More of what, I don't know. But more. And today I did another session of hypnotherapy (have I mentioned before that I'm doing this?). Trying to get my binge eating under control, trying to eat more healthfully, trying to exercise and get in shape, trying to stay away from junk food. I certainly don't feel as though I'm being "hypnotized", listening to the recordings. But they do relax me, and maybe, somehow, they'll help. I can use all the help I can get. 

If these feelings continue, if I see no improvement over the next week or so, it may be time for a ketamine booster. I don't really want to, because I'm stubborn and want to be better on my own, but I may need to suck it up an go. It's been two months since my last treatment. I was hoping I'd make it until at least three. But I can't keep doing this. I can't keep feeling this way and getting nothing done. I can't make those around me miserable with my lack of, well, everything. 

So that's where we're at. Bit of a depressing post, I know. But, well, it seems that's where I'm at right now. Hopefully this week will be better. Hopefully I'll get stuff done. 

Tuesday 1/3/22 Happy New Year

 I guess. 

Well, it's 2023. A new year is upon us. I guess it's time for new year's resolutions and whatnot, right? I'm not really big on resolutions, but I did make one for this year - I want to get in better shape so I'm not having difficulties walking around Japan in May/June. See, most of our transportation in Japan will be walking. I mean, we'll take the bullet train between cities, but mostly we'll be walking. A lot. People on a forum for Japan travelers averaged above 20,000 steps per day. I'm not used to that much walking. I'm out of shape. As of right now, I don't think my hips can take it. So I'm going to work to get my ass in shape. Which will be good for weight loss (duh) as I'd like to lose another 40-50 pounds. 

I started yesterday. Did legs at the gym. And boy are my legs sore today! Today (so far), I've done a wall Pilates session, and I plan on getting on my spin bike this afternoon. I also started a hypnotherapy program to help stop binge and emotional eating. I've done the first two sessions and we'll see I suppose. I don't feel as though I'm being "hypnotized", I just feel relaxed during the sessions. On the company's Facebook page people talk about falling asleep during the sessions. I definitely don't do that. Just feel relaxed. I'm hoping I still benefit from the sessions though (I've been binging and eating junk food like nobody's business the past two months. Ugh). 

As far as my mood has been . . . I've been okay, I guess. Mostly meh. Blah. Indifferent. I have periods where I feel better, but also periods where I feel down. But mostly I'm stuck at meh. No motivation or drive to do anything (which makes me worry about the whole exercising thing). I haven't painted or drawn anything in about 2 weeks. No inspiration, no motivation. So why bother? I have drawings that need to be painted, I just don't care to. Which really kind of sucks because normally art makes me happy. I just . . . don't have it in me right now. Hopefully that will change.

I have therapy this Thursday. I don't get to actually see Mike in person though - it'll be through Zoom. He had a medical procedure done that he hasn't quite healed from, so, Zoom. I'd much rather see him in person. Especially, again, since I'm worried about this being our last session. I worry about this with every session I have, but this time I'm especially worried. It's been 5 weeks since our last session and a lot of stuff has happened. I've been emotionally fragile because of all of this and I'm not sure I can handle this being our last session (the emotionally fragile thing sucks - I tear up at random things, almost crying over a commercial or something). I guess we'll see.

First though, I have to get through tomorrow. Tomorrow I work and it's going to be stupid busy. Three scheduled c-sections before 11am. And 5 or more inductions. My backup is Amy and God love her she is so slow. And there is no one else scheduled tomorrow who can do nursery. I'm worried she may call in sick and it will be just me. Like, losing sleep over it, worried. I feel so burned out at work I don't want to go anymore. I honestly considered using an FMLA day tomorrow until I saw that there was no one else who can do nursery. I can't leave someone hanging like that - I'd feel too guilty. I know how shitty it is to be nursery without any backup. It sucks. So I'm praying that Amy doesn't call in sick. I'm trying to plan out our morning in my head so that I'm prepared and don't start the day off in a bad mood. This is so stupid. I shouldn't have to do this. 

I guess that's enough bitching for today. I'm praying that tomorrow goes smoothly, that Thursday isn't my last session with Mike, and that I get my butt in gear and in shape.  

Tuesday 11/8/22 Some Art

 I'm sitting here on the couch, not quite sure what to do with myself. I don't know how I want to fill my time today. Yesterday I painted quite a bit, uploaded a TON of paintings to my Etsy shop . . . today I'm just not feeling it. I'm not necessarily down, but I'm not great either. I'm meh. Blah. Indifferent. I don't like feeling like this. I'm as of yet undecided on whether I'll keep my ketamine booster appointment. I mean, I'm not depressed, just meh or down. I'm not sure that really qualifies me as needing the booster. I don't know. I'll give it another week and we'll see. 

Anyway, I've been painting quite a bit. Figured I'd share a few of them here.

This first one I titled "Anemone". Mostly just playing with color and shapes.

This second one is just swirls of color, kind of like what I would see during an infusion.

Cherry blossoms. I love cherry blossoms. 

Some daisies. 

This one is "Nautilus". Swirls of shapes and blues that I would see during an infusion.

This last one is "Sink". Some infusions I felt like I was floating. Others like I was sinking in sand or something. Always so much blue though. Blue was the predominant color I would see. Some purples and oranges and greens here and there, but mostly blues. 

There's quite a few more, plus all the dragon paintings (well, 4 dragon paintings). I've been busy. But I don't know if I want to paint today. We'll see. I don't know what I want to do today.
 

Thursday 2/24/22 Another Heavy Sigh Day

Two posts close together. Weird. 

On Monday (my last post), I didn't really feel like writing. But I did. At least a little bit. Today I feel like writing . . . but I don't know how much. 

I had therapy this morning and I don't really know what to say anymore there. I feel like I'm beating a dead horse. I'm bipolar, I have depression, this is what I feel like, these are the things I'm doing to combat it, blah, blah, blah. Over and over again. I feel as though I'm boring Mike - which is a stupid way to feel - but I can't help it. In the 8-9 years I've been seeing Mike we've gone over all of my trauma ad nauseum. There isn't anything new to discuss. No reason I should be feeling the way I do except that I'm bipolar. And in a depressive episode. Which, honestly, is frustrating. Because yeah - I feel like I'm boring and whiney and undeserving. I feel like I shouldn't be in therapy, like I should be able to figure this out on my own by now. 

But I can't.

And as much as I let on that there is hope . . . I feel kind of lost and hopeless. Because this keeps going on. I keep having episodes. And I will keep having episodes for as long as I live. And that's a very daunting future. Even though I had a year of "normalcy" it's like I can't remember what it was like. The depression is so consuming, even though it's not nearly as bad as it was in the past. I'm still struggling. Every. Single. Day. I'm struggling. Quietly. Undetectable to most people, I'm struggling. 

See, my depression isn't the obvious sobbing, suicidal crisis. I'm not having breakdowns every day. This episode is insidious and quiet and unrelenting. No, I'm not sobbing over everything. In fact, I can't cry. It doesn't matter what happens, I can't cry. There's nothing there. This episode has left me an empty husk. An unfeeling thing with such limited emotions it's as if I feel nothing. I'm dead inside. Hollow. There's nothing left. I'm just going about the motions of life, doing what needs to be done, doing the bare minimum because I have no drive, no motivation, no life inside of me. This is a horrible way to feel, to feel nothing. And I'm lost as to what to do. 

Mike thinks my medications are to blame. Maybe they are. They're keeping the mania at bay - and probably the worst of my depression - but I'm left numb. I'm left unfeeling. And, I guess, I should clarify: I can feel anger. Anger, resentment, annoyance, irritability. I can feel those emotions. But joy? Happiness? Contentment? Sorrow, even? No. Those emotions are out of my grasp. 

I describe it as feeling "blah" or "meh". I'm just existing. I don't get excited for anything. I'm getting a new tattoo next Tuesday and I'm all, "yep. Whatever." Like I don't even care. Which, I guess, I really don't. Being so empty it's hard to care. About anything. All I want to do is sleep. Sleep and not wake up until I feel better. So I nap. A lot. Because then I don't have to deal with not feeling. 

I'm doing everything I know to do to beat this. Exercising, eating healthy, painting, therapy, my meds, supplements, praying, singing along to music, putting on a happy face . . . you name it, I'm probably doing it. I don't know what else to do. What the fuck am I supposed to do??? I'm so tired of this, tired of fighting a war I can't win. 

I guess I'll call my psychiatrist. Talk to him about adjusting my meds. I don't know what else to do. 

Monday 2/21/22 Heavy Sigh

 It's been that kind of day. A heavy sigh kind of day. I am . . . quite blah. And actually feeling a bit down today as well. I'm not sure why. I mean, the "blah" I get. That seems to be my go to state of being as of late. But feeling down too . . . ugh. I'm not digging it. 

I spent the morning painting. I had a custom pet portrait to do, a dog. I'm always nervous doing custom orders because I think the person will hate it. It came out cute and the gal loved it. So, yay for that! I guess I can stop beating myself up about it now. Maybe that's why I'm feeling down as well as blah. Who knows.

I'm tired of how I'm feeling. I'm tired of being tired. I'm not physically tired - this is more emotionally and mentally tired. My soul is tired. And no amount of sleep will help this. I'm not sure anything will help this. I just keep powering through, hoping I'll eventually start feeling better. It has to happen sometime, right? 

Nothing else of interest is really going on. I go to work. I work. I come home. On my days off I paint or draw or stare off into space or mindlessly scroll social media because I can't focus enough to read. Last Thursday I talked on the phone with a guy named Jacob. He has bipolar disorder and sees my therapist. It's amazing how similar yet different our symptoms are. It was a good conversation, although I felt more like I was being interviewed. 

It's weird, usually when I'm feeling down I have the urge to write. And today I really don't. Maybe it's because I've said it all before. Maybe it's because I don't want to be a downer. Maybe it's both of those things. I'm just so empty and anhedonic and apathetic and blah. I really don't want to exist like this. I want to go to sleep and wake up when this is over. Why can't I do that?

Tuesday 2/15/22

 Yesterday was Valentine's day. Jer and I never do anything for Valentine's day - I'm not sure we ever have (we've been together for 22 years). And, per our usual, we didn't do anything this year either. I worked yesterday and it was rather busy. 

Lately, my mood has been very blah. I don't even really feel depressed, per se, but just empty and meh, and blah, and flat. No real emotion. I'm just existing. Going through the motions. No joy, no happiness, no contentment . . . but also no feeling really down or dark or "sad". I'm floating around in this grey area, unable to see color but not experiencing the dark. Maybe this is a good thing? Maybe it means I'm coming out of the depression and into the light? Maybe this is a necessary stepping stone on the path to getting better? I have no idea. All I know is that I don't like it. Being in a grey fog, unable to feel, is not my idea of fun. But I don't know what to do. Keep muddling along, hoping I eventually get better? See my psychiatrist for a potential med change? (I don't know what we'd do for a med change - I've been on 23 different meds). I have no idea. 

For now, I guess I'll keep muddling along. I don't really have a choice - this isn't something you can just "snap out" of (although I wish I could). 

. . . man this is a short post. I guess I don't feel like writing today.