Gratitude for the past

I have a lot of personal issues I am working through with a therapist due to an abundance of factors in my past. I try to tell myself to leave the negative portions of my

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Credit: Júnior Ferreira

past where it belongs, then thoughts of said moments make me slip into a downward spiral of depression and terrible choices. It wasn’t until recently that I made the decision

to put my foot down and not allow these things to control me. I had to remind myself whether the moments of my past were good or bad, it still led me to where I am in this moment and I should feel some gratitude for that.

Sure, I can feel a certain way about things and get help from my therapist on how to address my feelings in a healthier manner, but I can’t disregard those damaging moments altogether either. Instead of burying the bad, or hiding from it, I can use those moments as learning experiences for how to handle difficult situations in the future.

Why be a victim of the past when the future can be dominated?

 

 

Back on Instagram

A few weeks ago I made an Instagram account that was deleted by them after two, or three, days. Somehow, I violated the terms and conditions, but it wasn’t explained as to what I did to warrant the termination. I had emailed them stating I felt it was a mistake and let them know I had done nothing wrong. I still haven’t heard back from them. I was beyond agitated. I was done with them all together at that point, but I felt I should try it out one more time. It was my past experiences with the app that helped me with weight loss, become more mindful of my mental health, and helped me to stay accountable. If it wasn’t for those reasons I would have definitely given up.

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Credit: Mink Mingle

What I can say is, so far, so good. I’ve already ‘met’ a few people and have witnessed many inspiring personalities. I feel this will be helpful to my lifestyle changes. As long as I stay focused, that is. I have a tendency of focusing on one particular thing, then lose track of what I was previously working on. I’m awful at multitasking in my life, basically.

That’s all I have for now. Due to my anxiety attacks last night and lovely insomnia, I barely slept. I’m at work feeling like I am going to slam my face on the keyboard at any second. The last thing I need is to potentially break my nose and have keyboard keys embedded in my face.

Torturous road trip with therapy

“Therapy would be good for you.” They said.

“Opening up will help.” They said.

“Talking to someone could be beneficial.” They said.

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As I sit back and think about it, logically, I can agree due to personal experiences. There were moments when therapy was helpful to younger me and it has the potential to help again. That is if I go through the process rather than persistently hiding things. All I have to do is work through the difficult moments of my past by discussing it and learn to move on. I need to use the tools given to me to dig myself out of this grave of misery. I can get to where I need to be, in time. I need to be open to helping myself.

Again, this is me thinking of it in a logical sense.

The other, more dominant, irrational way of thinking about it leads to a rage that makes me want to quit therapy already.

I am not someone who opens up easily. Anything and everything that has ever caused me minimal or considerable amounts of emotional harm has been stored away in a vault. The vault is like my protection and it remains sealed in the back of my mind until I need to throw something else in. Not only is therapy making me open the vault to re-live the awful moments, but it’s also making me feel them, too.

feelings

I hate feeling. I find it works better not to feel.

That’s the problem. It isn’t healthy.

This is something I need to do, but I don’t know if I can handle it. This is 15-20 years of thoughts or memories I intended to keep stashed away. Right now, logic prevails. I just hope irrationality is okay with giving up the wheel on this torturous road trip that’s in store.

New Year, Improving Me

It has been all over twitter, in my text messages, even my family members began to ask the question probed at the end of the year and into the new: What is your New Year’s Resolution(s)?

On and off for years, I would make a list or have one specific goal in mind. I would stick with it for a good portion of the year, while other times I would last two weeks before admitting defeat. I feel like there’s always this pressure to do something different or change in some way and if you don’t succeed then there goes the opportunity. “Better luck next year!” is the phrase I would tell myself and then attempt to start fresh the following January 1st.

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Photo Credit: Zac Durant

For some, it’s simple to stick to their list/goals because they’re determined to see things through. But for someone like myself, I lose momentum as quickly as it’s gained. Perhaps it has something to do with my issues relating to my depression and anxiety? I have no idea, but I intend to find out while working with my new therapist.

In the meantime, I know there are some aspects in my life I need to repair in order to better myself. Rather than making some list/goals I know I won’t complete, I figure I can do one thing that doesn’t guarantee defeat. I can just try.

This isn’t a ‘New Year, New Me’ post. It always turns out being ‘New Year, Same Me’. It’s time to make small baby steps to ease into necessary improvements without the insane pressures of needing to do something drastic.

This year I am doing something I haven’t done and I’m optimistic that this will be helpful. ‘New Year, Improving Me. Gradually.’ I’m just going to take my time and go at the pace I’m comfortable with.

I have to stay in my lane.

This is the year to get reacquainted with oneself.

Here I am.

Trying.

Cutting Corners Doesn’t Work

Not only did I cave with smoking cigarettes to the point I was on the verge of buying two packs a week, but my drinking had increased significantly, too. It’s annoying as hell because I know for a fact that a cigarette and a drink are just a quick fix to bigger issues and there are healthier ways to manage stress/depression/anxiety, so why do I continue to go back to the things that only hurt me in the long run?

I could dive in to the innumerable amount of information around the web, or in the books, and post a research paper on why, but I am going to keep this blunt: I am either too lazy or too mentally weak to continue in the effort to push through to do things in a healthier manner.

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Source: Jordan Whitfield

It gets to a point where I am sick and tired of all the work and I want my results when I want them with no more waiting. Truth of the matter is things don’t work that way. I know that from my own experiences and witnessing it happen with other people that I know.

I cannot continue to make these shameful excuses to help me sleep at night while I’m cutting corners. That being said, I haven’t had a cigarette in almost 48 hours, same with booze. I’m not perfect but as long as I make the effort I should be fine.

If you want something done correctly it takes time to do it right. It doesn’t matter if you’re building a house, becoming a doctor, working on your mental health, trying to lose weight or build muscle; things take time if you want it done correctly.

I need to learn more patience because all this haste is setting me back. Starting all over again, time after time, is worse than making gradual improvements, but that’s just me and those are my thoughts.

 

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

I’m still going at it with this depression nonsense. I stopped taking my pills for a few weeks because they made me gain 20+ lbs in 6+ months. The pills are so strong and if I don’t eat enough (enough meaning a whole-fucking-lot) I feel sick to the point of throwing up (I threw up twice this weekend due to not eating “enough”). Being without my meds altered my mood drastically. My boyfriend convinced me to try taking half a pill, that way I can have something rather than nothing. I thought I would be fine for a while without them, but it didn’t take long for me to feel all the anxiety and dark clouds rushing back.

I’ve been back on the meds for a few days and even though I need to up my food intake (there goes my jeans), my mood has also improved again (which is a total plus), but I don’t want this making me gain more weight.

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Credit: rawpixel

People ask me, “Why don’t you just change your medication?” or they say, “You should change up medications to see what works for you.” The thing is I’ve done that before. Not only do I hate feeling like a fucking guinea pig, but last time I changed up medications to “see what works for me” I ended up with worse depression and it gave me a new symptom (paranoia; that was fun) that only made my thoughts darker than I thought possible.

Meds are no fucking joke.

They are scary to me.

The options I can see are: I keep taking the meds that really help me feel better emotionally and mentally, go to the gym and try maintaining the weight as this point, since losing it will be difficult as hell, or switch up medication and run the risk of having it fuck me up mentally and emotionally like it did before. The way I look at it is I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

It’s just fucking frustrating, I feel so stuck. Why can’t things ever be simple?

My Sea of Gray

I had a draft I was working on for a couple days explaining how much my mental health had improved. I was beginning to feel genuine happiness again, which is something I hadn’t felt in many years. The walls I’ve put up for so long that prevented me from letting people see me had finally been dismantled, stone by stone that’s been held together by concrete.

I was functioning. I finally felt human.

I hate to say that I will not be posting that draft right now because I have found myself slipping back into the depths of my sea of gray. I call it my sea of gray because when I think of the color, I associate it with numbness. That is what I’m beginning to feel…

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(source: google/giphy)

When the numbness sets in, I become a recluse. I want nothing to do with anything. I simply exist. I feel there’s nothing in the world that’s remotely worth getting out of bed for. I know that’s not true. It just feels that way. That’s one of my worst feelings to experience. Next to the abrupt implosion within my chest that others like to call severe anxiety attacks.

A few months ago things had taken a turn. My depression and anxiety attacks had become a part of my daily life, again. I could barely function at work. It was ruining my relationships with my friends, family and my significant other. It was bad enough I was mentally drained, but throw insomnia into the mix and you have yourself a concoction of intolerable despair that not only can be damaging mentally, it creeps into the physical also. That may sound dramatic to some people, but it’s not when you’ve lived it.

I wish I could keep going and explain more on what I’m feeling and experiencing, but my mind keeps trailing off and I can’t focus anymore. I’ll have to come back and continue writing on this later.