Therapy

is god damn amazing by the way. My therapist is on maternity leave right now, and I can't WAIT for her to get back so I can share my progress!

This past weekend, when going out with Youngest, I almost had a panic attack-once in the theater, and once on the way to the restaurant.

I used the techniques I've been taught, and presto! No panic attack. That's not to say I wasn't nervous and shaky but I was able to get myself under control enough to enjoy my day.

I also just got back from taking Youngest to the airport. Not only did I get him on his plane without crying and freaking out, I sat BY MYSELF until his plane took off. Then I walked BY MYSELF through the airport, to my car, and came back to work. In past years, not only would I start drinking somewhere during this drama, there is no way in hell I could have done it alone. Or gone back to work.

Pretty god damn proud of myself right now!

And I surprise myself once again

I had therapy yesterday, and I was once again amazed at how much it helps.

I've had a rough week-haven't even wanted to try any of my new coping skills. I just wanted to drink.

Now Mom's birthday is Monday, so when I saw my doctor I told her I've been having a rough time, and "maybe it has something to do with my Mom."

And then I burst into tears.

I'm sad that I never had a chance to be a normal child. I'm sad that my entire life has revolved around fear. I'm sad that my mother died without ever teaching me the skills I need to cope with this world.

BUT-sad is hard, and painful, and scary. So I turn it into anger-which I have learned is a common response, but not a healthy one. If you don't deal with your emotions, they will never go away.

So yesterday I learned it's ok, even healthy to cry (the horror!). In fact, it was suggested to me that if I need to cry, maybe I should just go close myself up in my bedroom and DO IT!

I also learned how to stop turning that sadness into anger, and to mourn the loss of the mother I never had, and the little girl I never was.

It's like a dream come true!

I have decided I am the perfect patient.

My Dr. has been giving me little tips and tricks to get myself through the day-everything from progressive muscle relaxation to help me sleep at night to mindfulness exercises to ward off a panic attack.

Last session, I discussed with her how when I read (or see) a sad news report or whatever it stays with me all day, effectively ruining my day. She taught me to remind myself that I can't save the world, and yes it's very sad-I'm allowed to spend a moment being sad-but then I must move on. Practicing my mindfulness exercises and telling myself "This thought is not beneficial to me right now" are ways of moving on.

Yesterday, leaving work, I saw a Doberman running down the middle of the street with a cast on his leg.

Now, 2 weeks ago, that would have made me cry and ruined my day.

My first thought was "Pull over! Read his tag! SAVE HIM!!!!!"

And then I remembered not only am I afraid of large dogs I don't know, what if he tries to bite me? I'm going to risk myself to save some dog?

So I told myself "How sad, someone isn't taking very good care of their dog. But I can't risk injury to save him. Now keep driving-pay attention to the road."

And it worked!

Then, at the end of the block, I saw a woman looking around-

Me-"Are you looking for a dog?"

Her-"Thank you, we just found his owner."

It's like I was instantly rewarded for using the tools I was given to take care of myself.

Pretty damn proud of that.

And that's when I realized why they call it "work"

Therapy is hard. Harder than I thought it was going to be.

Part of the problem is I let my weight spiral out of control, so this week I haven't been able to soothe myself with chocolate and various treats. (Have I mentioned I work for a candy manufacturer? Try working here and not weighing 900 pounds)

I was so bitchy, and irritable, and just generally fussy yesterday I really thought about giving up.

"I'm not that bad off-screw therapy and all it's stupid rules."

"Screw being healthy and strong, I want some god damn candy. And a sammich."

Then I remembered how I can't even go out in public by myself, and how I'm plagued by fears and insecurities, and stayed on track.

The road to sanity is freaking hard, it really is. Not only have I given up all my crutches (beer, cigarettes, candy, emotional eating, sleeping at will, and Xanax)but some of my problems are getting worse before they get better(nightmares).

Anyway, I know it's all for the greater good, but god damn. Sometimes a girl just needs a beer and a cigarette.

Practice

Therapy went very well again yesterday. Before we start actually treating the PTSD and anxiety I have to learn ways to relax, and soothe myself, and not disassociate myself from...well, myself.

So I have some homework, quite a few things to work on actually. Doc is going to Mexico for 2 weeks, so I have some time.

The best thing I learned? Is that the coping skills that I lack-I don't have them because no one taught them to me. That simple. Made me feel not crazy.

I did promise I would work on my drinking, even the weekends. And I had to promise not to go home and drink or take any pills after our exposure therapy sessions. I'm a little scared, but I guess the coping skills will help me cope!

In between diet, working out, and mental health, I have my work cut out for me the next 3 weeks.

Looking forward to it.

Losing it

I am, I'm losing my fucking mind. Not sure why. I have absolutely no patience, no tolerance, for any conflict right now, none. All of a sudden it's like the 3 people in my house are all after different things-this ones pushing, that one's pulling, no one will bend. I'm not in the fucking mood, I'm really not. I'm a huge raw exposed nerve right now, not because of anyone in my house, it's actually the rest of my family causing me grief, among other things. But of course everyone at home is feeling the brunt of it.

I truly don't know if I'm being unreasonable or if they are, but it needs to stop. Today.

ANYWAY......

Last week's therapy session was incredibly helpful. I've been practicing mindfulness exercises-a big part of my anxiety and PTSD is feeling disconnected and letting my anxiety run me. I've been practicing keeping myself in the moment, being aware of whats happening to me RIGHT NOW-it's actually quite helpful-I went to Trader Joe's last Friday BY MYSELF. I don't think I've gone anywhere alone in 10 years.

Hopefully the next session will be about keeping my anger in check.

Need.....pills.......

I've been trying to lay off the prescription/over the counter sleep aids. On the advice of my new awesome doctor, I have been practicing some behavior modification to learn to sleep without them.

1. The bed is for sex and sleep ONLY. If I am lying awake with my head running for more than 15 minutes, I have to get up, go in the other room, and read or watch TV until I think I can sleep. This breaks the cycle of associating bedtime with anxiety.

2. When my head does start running, I need to practice deep breathing, counting my breaths as I go. When an unpleasant thought intrudes, I'm to say "I am not thinking of you right now-you have no benefit when I'm trying to sleep." Then start counting again.

On the one hand, she is right-eventually I do fall asleep. But I feel like it is no where near enough sleep, not to mention the fact that I have bad dreams almost every night.

I am also having an issue with my older son right now, and that is the one thought I am unable to turn off. I finally fell asleep last night, only to wake up to use the bathroom and instantly start obsessing again. It's ridiculous. I am unable to let it go.

So, in the interest of my mental health, I will be asking Dr. the best way to handle this situation. Even if it means totally letting it go. I can't let myself be hurt on a daily basis, I just can't. I'm not that strong.

I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's session.

P.S. How strange is it that I've never been happier, yet I'm getting my heart broken on a daily basis? I have the support of Hubbs and Youngest-what a difference they have made in my life. I'm so thankful.

Hope

I meet with my new therapist yesterday, and I left her office with a feeling that I've never felt before (regarding my crazies anyway).

Hope.

There is hope for me. I won't always feel this way. Help is available and I can get better. I will learn how to be self aware, less afraid, and an active participant in my life.

She confirmed the PTSD, and gave me two tools to use in the immediate future to help me sleep. And by the way, I'm amazed that I was in therapy for 4 years and that woman never gave me anything but drugs. Seeing a psychologist makes a BIG difference.

I'm excited, I'm hopeful, and I'm scared-all at the same time. She said it's going to be a hard road, but I will reach my happy place.

Finally!