I feel more myself. I cooked today. I'm cooking now. Freestyle granola in the oven at 1:20 AM? Sounds like that time I got off evening shift and cooked a pound of bacon.
I was hungry, okay?
Went back to the doc this week, and mentioned that I didn't notice any significant improvement in my energy/motivation levels since the first week of meds. His response was to up the dose by half a pill, and do the same in two weeks if there's no further change. Gave me a big prescription to match and said to keep in touch. I like him--action oriented. Prescribes pills. Good stuff. Too bad the idea of having a male GP skeeves me out just a little.
I've been back at the gym this week--got four "workouts" in. I can't help but think that that's the big help. Combined with the doc's suggestion that if the meds aren't working it might be a sign that a lifestyle change is in order, maybe this adds weight to the "I need to drop my FTE so I can work less and workout more" theory.
I just stirred the granola. It looks like hell. Damn.
I'm hoping I can discontinue the meds at some point. I don't typically get a lot of side effects from most medications, but I have a few noticeable side effects here--dry mouth, night sweats--plus no more craft beer or Spanish wine. (Damn.) Then there's also that recent news about SSRIs and how they might mess up the brain more than they'll fix it. That would be crappy. Especially since my brain doesn't function normally as it is, never mind under the influence of any given pharmaceutical.
I'm hoping I can sort out whatever's accumulated in my brain. Most days, I feel like my brain is cluttered. I keep the part that I need for work (and luckily, the part that manages all that breathing and blinking and coordinating my muscles--most of the time) under control, but unless I'm at work or trying not to die at the gym, I can't seem to think straight. I know it's probably depression-fog, but it's frustrating. Especially when I can't seem to enjoy things that other people enjoy--social contact, society-perfect relationships, Real Housewives marathons--because I'm too busy thinking, "Should I enjoy this? Probably. Enjoy it. Come on, ENJOY it."
Maybe I just think too much when I should go with instinct. Maybe I need to start speaking my mind.
But I know for sure that I should definitely take that granola out of the oven now. I suspect that cleaning up after a burnt batch of oil, honey, and nuts is not fun at 2 AM, even if you're trying to turn around for nights.
Monday, 30 June 2014
Visit 2
Originally written June 2014.
Homework:
1. Revise all positive attributes into "I am..." statements. "I am loyal." "I am dependable." "I am kind." Surround yourself with these attributes--write stickies, use as a mantra, etc. Ask a few of your friends, a few of your coworkers, and your parents what their top three positive attributes of yours are. Write them down. Turn them into "I am..." statements. Surround yourself with them.
2. Pick the three hardest positive attributes to believe, and make a list of times when you displayed those positive attributes. Consider other perspectives (him vs. me) and other definitions (book-smart vs. wise).
3. Keep at that list of "shoulds". Note down any times you think you "should" do/say/be/enjoy something.
Second visit with the counsellor this week. Managed to get half the homework done--I made a 10-item list of things that are positive attributes about myself, and a scrawled a few notes about the things that make my life fulfilling. Didn't get around to my list of "shoulds".
We went over a plan. The goal is to increase my self-worth. She said that she thinks I can manage the symptoms of depression on my own, and that we will focus on a broader picture. There were four sub-goals: define positive attributes, grieve relationships that are lost, set healthy personal boundaries, and... something else that I can't remember right now.
We started by getting into my list of positive attributes. She asked what I thought about my list, and I said that I think it could be longer, but I feel inhibited--I can't seem to think up anything positive about myself without also thinking, "Yeah, but...". Then she said, "Pretend you're your best friend--what would she say?" I was able to add a few things to the list. Then, "Pretend you're your coworker." Then, "Pretend you're your parents."
There was a lot of awkward-feeling silence... I have a hard time envisioning other people thinking positively about me. It feels conceited to say nice things about myself. After all, modesty is virtuous, and nobody likes a bragger. Right?
I managed to double my list, with her help. She then explained that sometimes it feels more believable to hear people say positive things rather than to write down what you think they'd say. Hence, the homework assignment: ask a few of your friends, a few of your coworkers, and your parents what their top three positive attributes of yours are. I foresee some weird emotional moments ahead....
Driving home, I thought to myself that this isn't going to be an easy process. Damn.
Oh well. Onward.
Homework:
1. Revise all positive attributes into "I am..." statements. "I am loyal." "I am dependable." "I am kind." Surround yourself with these attributes--write stickies, use as a mantra, etc. Ask a few of your friends, a few of your coworkers, and your parents what their top three positive attributes of yours are. Write them down. Turn them into "I am..." statements. Surround yourself with them.
2. Pick the three hardest positive attributes to believe, and make a list of times when you displayed those positive attributes. Consider other perspectives (him vs. me) and other definitions (book-smart vs. wise).
3. Keep at that list of "shoulds". Note down any times you think you "should" do/say/be/enjoy something.
Second visit with the counsellor this week. Managed to get half the homework done--I made a 10-item list of things that are positive attributes about myself, and a scrawled a few notes about the things that make my life fulfilling. Didn't get around to my list of "shoulds".
We went over a plan. The goal is to increase my self-worth. She said that she thinks I can manage the symptoms of depression on my own, and that we will focus on a broader picture. There were four sub-goals: define positive attributes, grieve relationships that are lost, set healthy personal boundaries, and... something else that I can't remember right now.
We started by getting into my list of positive attributes. She asked what I thought about my list, and I said that I think it could be longer, but I feel inhibited--I can't seem to think up anything positive about myself without also thinking, "Yeah, but...". Then she said, "Pretend you're your best friend--what would she say?" I was able to add a few things to the list. Then, "Pretend you're your coworker." Then, "Pretend you're your parents."
There was a lot of awkward-feeling silence... I have a hard time envisioning other people thinking positively about me. It feels conceited to say nice things about myself. After all, modesty is virtuous, and nobody likes a bragger. Right?
I managed to double my list, with her help. She then explained that sometimes it feels more believable to hear people say positive things rather than to write down what you think they'd say. Hence, the homework assignment: ask a few of your friends, a few of your coworkers, and your parents what their top three positive attributes of yours are. I foresee some weird emotional moments ahead....
Driving home, I thought to myself that this isn't going to be an easy process. Damn.
Oh well. Onward.
Something New
Originally written June 2014.
Homework:
1. Make a list of the good things about yourself. Actually write down the evidence that proves that you are good enough at whatever you are good enough at. Write down the evidence that shows that you live a fulfilling life right now, despite what you think you are missing that you need to have to be fulfilled.
2. Keep track of all the "shoulds" in your mind. When you think you "should" do or be something, note it.
I started counselling today. After a week-and-a-half of antidepressants, I felt calm enough about going to the appointment, and trusting enough that I wouldn't get kicked out of the counsellor's office for my not-quite-earth-shattering problems.
I still don't like talking about myself, though. Especially that part that has all kinds of feelings.
I filled out a questionnaire before actually sitting down with the counsellor. It was around 150 questions long, and a few felt like repeats. It felt like some kind of interrogation... how many re-phrased versions of the question do we have to ask before you trip up? She wasn't kidding when she said to show up half an hour early to finish the paperwork.
After that was done, we went and sat down in her office. We talked about what I'd like to gain from counselling--I want to regain my drive and motivation--and how long it's been since I've felt like I had drive and motivation--about four months or so--and if anything happened four months or so ago that might have fostered this loss of drive and motivation--well, I broke it off with my ex...
Then I started getting weepy. Fuck.
She asked if we could talk about it, and I said yes. And I meant yes. Somehow, it's much easier for me to talk about upsetting things with strangers. I don't need to maintain an in-control, cool persona around strangers. I can be upset around strangers.
I said that I felt guilty about leaving him. I said that I left because I hadn't seen any spark or motivation from him, but that I felt I should have been able to show him the path to being driven and motivated and employed and interested in life. I said that I felt guilty for abandoning him, and when she asked if those were his words, I said no, not directly, but that that was the implication.
She asked if it was my responsibility to have done this for him. I said no, and I know that logically, but I feel different than I think. She asked what would have happened if I had been able to be a better partner--if I had given more and required less--and I said I would have resented him more and more. By the end of the relationship I was already a fuming little ball of resentment. Although now I'm not sure if I resented him more, or myself.
She suggested that maybe I haven't grieved the loss of the relationship thoroughly. She explained that this doesn't mean that I'm not greiving the person, but rather that I'm still processing the loss of what could have been: fun roadtrips, spontaneous coffee dates, drinking wine until 2am, and maybe someday something a little more committed than a toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.
Genius.
She framed a lot of things in a way that I hadn't considered, and while I still don't fully trust that her frame is real and not something contrived to just make me feel better, it's got the wheels in my head turning.
I can't say I feel like a weight's been lifted--I am exhausted. But I am looking forward to another session. I learned something today. I haven't learned anything in... about four months or so.
Homework:
1. Make a list of the good things about yourself. Actually write down the evidence that proves that you are good enough at whatever you are good enough at. Write down the evidence that shows that you live a fulfilling life right now, despite what you think you are missing that you need to have to be fulfilled.
2. Keep track of all the "shoulds" in your mind. When you think you "should" do or be something, note it.
I started counselling today. After a week-and-a-half of antidepressants, I felt calm enough about going to the appointment, and trusting enough that I wouldn't get kicked out of the counsellor's office for my not-quite-earth-shattering problems.
I still don't like talking about myself, though. Especially that part that has all kinds of feelings.
I filled out a questionnaire before actually sitting down with the counsellor. It was around 150 questions long, and a few felt like repeats. It felt like some kind of interrogation... how many re-phrased versions of the question do we have to ask before you trip up? She wasn't kidding when she said to show up half an hour early to finish the paperwork.
After that was done, we went and sat down in her office. We talked about what I'd like to gain from counselling--I want to regain my drive and motivation--and how long it's been since I've felt like I had drive and motivation--about four months or so--and if anything happened four months or so ago that might have fostered this loss of drive and motivation--well, I broke it off with my ex...
Then I started getting weepy. Fuck.
She asked if we could talk about it, and I said yes. And I meant yes. Somehow, it's much easier for me to talk about upsetting things with strangers. I don't need to maintain an in-control, cool persona around strangers. I can be upset around strangers.
I said that I felt guilty about leaving him. I said that I left because I hadn't seen any spark or motivation from him, but that I felt I should have been able to show him the path to being driven and motivated and employed and interested in life. I said that I felt guilty for abandoning him, and when she asked if those were his words, I said no, not directly, but that that was the implication.
She asked if it was my responsibility to have done this for him. I said no, and I know that logically, but I feel different than I think. She asked what would have happened if I had been able to be a better partner--if I had given more and required less--and I said I would have resented him more and more. By the end of the relationship I was already a fuming little ball of resentment. Although now I'm not sure if I resented him more, or myself.
She suggested that maybe I haven't grieved the loss of the relationship thoroughly. She explained that this doesn't mean that I'm not greiving the person, but rather that I'm still processing the loss of what could have been: fun roadtrips, spontaneous coffee dates, drinking wine until 2am, and maybe someday something a little more committed than a toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.
Genius.
She framed a lot of things in a way that I hadn't considered, and while I still don't fully trust that her frame is real and not something contrived to just make me feel better, it's got the wheels in my head turning.
I can't say I feel like a weight's been lifted--I am exhausted. But I am looking forward to another session. I learned something today. I haven't learned anything in... about four months or so.
Spinning plates are falling down
Originally written in May 2014. I waffled over whether to put it online, but I figure I should put my thoughts into words somewhere so I have some semblance of a tracking system.
So. Uhmm. Depression.
When I was in my last year of university, I learned about the Transtheoretical Model of Change (or, TTM, as the cool kids called it). It accounts for the phases a person encounters throughout the process of changing, and it sucks to study because the phases all sort of bleed into each other, but there are distinct hallmarks of each phase that define them. It also sucks to have to spell t-r-a-n-s-t-h-e-o-r-e-t-i-c-a-l. Plus, there's that "pre-contemplation" stage, where you sort of know you need to make a change but you aren't thinking about it even though your sort of are because you know it needs to happen just that you aren't really thinking about it yet.
Depression is kind of a cool case study into TTM. Or at least, the part of depression where you realize that there might be a problem and that maybe your brain isn't working the same way as everyone else's, but you're not really fully aware of that fact and you think it might just be your own brain playing tricks on you..
Despite all my hypochondriac Mayo Clinic/WebMD/Google searching, I didn't realize that fatigue was a symptom of depression. I didn't realize that depression doesn't necessarily mean the "always sad" form of depressed emotion, as it can also mean the, "Life? Meh." form of depressed emotion.
So I didn't clue in when I started feeling effffffing tired all day every day. I assumed it was maybe low iron, or maybe my thyroid was finally giving out, or maybe I'm actually just being lazy since I have no kids/spouse/pet/mortgage/line-of-credit-debt to worry about, so why should I be so tired?
The doc mentioned depression in passing, but I said, "No, I'm not depressed." I know how that feels--You're overwhelmingly sad, nothing is positive, you don't care about anything you used to care about, you feel burned out from life in general...
... wait...
Another look at Wikipedia/WebMD/whatever else Dr. Google came up with showed that yes, I may in fact be depressed. Huh...
So what does this look like for me?
If something sad comes up, I can't let it go, but mostly I just don't really care about anything. I miss being excited to go to the gym after work. I miss pulling inspiration from the pages of cookbooks. I sort of just miss caring about things (although I can remember what it feels like to care about too many things, or to care about stupid things, and that sucked too).
I didn't realize that depression also fogs up your brain--I can't remember things I should remember, and I'm paranoid that even if I remember what I think I remember I might not be remembering correctly so I go and double-check anyways. I can't do basic math in my head. (Actually, I've never been able to do that. Nevermind).
The most frustrating thing, though, is that I've become something I loathe (although maybe "loathe" is a strong word). I'm coasting now, floating through life with no direction and not really caring about it. No more drive. No more passion.
No more balance.
So. Uhmm. Depression.
When I was in my last year of university, I learned about the Transtheoretical Model of Change (or, TTM, as the cool kids called it). It accounts for the phases a person encounters throughout the process of changing, and it sucks to study because the phases all sort of bleed into each other, but there are distinct hallmarks of each phase that define them. It also sucks to have to spell t-r-a-n-s-t-h-e-o-r-e-t-i-c-a-l. Plus, there's that "pre-contemplation" stage, where you sort of know you need to make a change but you aren't thinking about it even though your sort of are because you know it needs to happen just that you aren't really thinking about it yet.
Depression is kind of a cool case study into TTM. Or at least, the part of depression where you realize that there might be a problem and that maybe your brain isn't working the same way as everyone else's, but you're not really fully aware of that fact and you think it might just be your own brain playing tricks on you..
Despite all my hypochondriac Mayo Clinic/WebMD/Google searching, I didn't realize that fatigue was a symptom of depression. I didn't realize that depression doesn't necessarily mean the "always sad" form of depressed emotion, as it can also mean the, "Life? Meh." form of depressed emotion.
So I didn't clue in when I started feeling effffffing tired all day every day. I assumed it was maybe low iron, or maybe my thyroid was finally giving out, or maybe I'm actually just being lazy since I have no kids/spouse/pet/mortgage/line-of-credit-debt to worry about, so why should I be so tired?
The doc mentioned depression in passing, but I said, "No, I'm not depressed." I know how that feels--You're overwhelmingly sad, nothing is positive, you don't care about anything you used to care about, you feel burned out from life in general...
... wait...
Another look at Wikipedia/WebMD/whatever else Dr. Google came up with showed that yes, I may in fact be depressed. Huh...
So what does this look like for me?
If something sad comes up, I can't let it go, but mostly I just don't really care about anything. I miss being excited to go to the gym after work. I miss pulling inspiration from the pages of cookbooks. I sort of just miss caring about things (although I can remember what it feels like to care about too many things, or to care about stupid things, and that sucked too).
I didn't realize that depression also fogs up your brain--I can't remember things I should remember, and I'm paranoid that even if I remember what I think I remember I might not be remembering correctly so I go and double-check anyways. I can't do basic math in my head. (Actually, I've never been able to do that. Nevermind).
The most frustrating thing, though, is that I've become something I loathe (although maybe "loathe" is a strong word). I'm coasting now, floating through life with no direction and not really caring about it. No more drive. No more passion.
No more balance.
Saturday, 21 June 2014
I did some thinking about relationships.
I am in awe of my parents. Somehow, they've raised me to be strong enough, smart enough, and wise enough to stand independently. I don't *need* someone to hold me up. I don't *need* someone to validate me. I can make it on my own.
(Although I suppose that's also due in part to luck--no major traumatic events for this kid--but let's go ahead and attribute my success to my parents because they deserve some kudos.)
I get discouraged sometimes as I look around and see others in my generation being their lazy, dependent selves, lacking the common sense and drive to get shit done with their lives. I also get discouraged sometimes as I look around and see others in my generation doing amazing things like building schools in developing nations, bringing their medical expertise to those in need, and starting non-profits for a glut of causes. But that's more of an "I could do so much more with my life holy crap" discouraged as opposed to a "Watching another episode of Repo Games instead of vacuuming is still actually not lazy" discouraged.
Holy shit. Well, yay for tangents, right?!
So, I'm in awe of my parents, because in this era of lazy, dependent, needy people, they've raised me to have enough character and common sense to support myself through pretty much any situation Life can throw at me.
Pretty much.
Relationships?
Yeah. Not so much.
Whether it's an illusion I've been under my entire life (which I am assured is the case) or whether I legitimately have some fatal flaw that leaves me unable to attract attention from a male human being, romantic relationships have been my albatross (alba... tri? Albatrosses--thanks, Google!) for-pretty-much-ever. I'm inherently antisocial, I'm bad at reading non-verbal cues, and I take things that people say too personally, over-analyzing and over-thinking words and phrases to death. Is it any wonder that I'm actually sort of happy sitting here in the middle of a night shift in a locked lab?
And, rather than venture out to try to learn about human relationships, I've learned to make my own money, be my own company, and buy my own food, clothes, and shiny things. Who do I talk to? Myself, obviously. (You silly!) I spent 25 years consoling myself, holding pseudo-girl-talks with myself, and attempting to pep-talk myself through the years of watching my friends' and family's relationships... do their weird relationship things, I guess. As dysfunctional as this is, I'm fiercely proud of my resilience--after all, they always say that you shouldn't need someone in your life to define you, and you definitely shouldn't depend on a man for anything. (Girl Power, yo!)
Cue: September 2013. My "Eff Relationships, They're Dumb Anyways" world goes to pot, with my first serious relationship, which saw me get in too deep too fast for my liking. I felt completely smothered (antisocial lab rat does not want to receive attention 23.5 hours each day, never mind give attention 23.5 hours each day) and frustrated at what I felt was one person's attempt to override my resilience and make me dependent and helpless without him. (Perception is a funny thing.) Panicked and frustrated with the relationship, I tried to maintain my distance so as to maintain my pride in who I was and what I could do. When that didn't work (along with other things also not working out as I had hoped), I called it quits. Drama followed. (I fucking hate people-drama. Fucking. Hate. It.)
Having done some thinking on what went wrong, and having tried to strip my emotional responses from the post-mortem, I've found this: I don't like giving up responsibility. It makes me feel useless, or helpless, or incompetent, or some combination thereof. I like venting about my problems, but I want to find a solution by myself, enact it by myself, and have someone pat me on the back after the problem is fixed. (Because obviously, I can fix any problem if I put my mind to it. I'm Special, just like all my Millenial cohorts.)
So, what am I looking for in a partner? Someone who is willing to let me run my own life, solve my own problems, and celebrate my own successes knowing that I actually could figure it out myself. Someone who is willing to stand back when things get bumpy for me rather than swoop in and save (/stop--perception, again) me from working through it, but who is still willing to listen to me complain about how tough it is to work a 1.0FTE (poor me). Someone who is also resilient, and who can exist as a person without a constant need for my validation of his ability to be a Real Man and do things that Real Men do. Also, someone who can deal with those nasty bugs that are the Alberta-version of a cockroach, because I really, really can't.
Cue: April 2014. I'm 6 months into the relationship learning-curve, and still absolutely blowing it. Somehow, my fatal flaw has regressed to a sort of "disfiguring but liveable" condition and I've attracted the mostly-serious attention of two fantastic guys. Murphy's Law, right? No BFs for 25 years, then two at once. I guess people-drama can get worse...
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