Week seven; Good job, you played yourself.

I’m very late on this post, so I apologize in advanced. If you’ve been following me for this long thank you. New readers welcome! I visit a therapist once a week and these are my weekly write ups. My notes and experiences with a therapist. However I’m late on this post, as I previously said. This should have been done last week. Better late then never though!

As I’ve ranted before last week was my first week back at work. Which caused me to be all over the place. I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want to go out and be an “adult”. I just wanted to sit at home as I am now, and write. Writing helps me understand myself better and I love it. Doing research and looking out into the internet.. I’m learning so much. And I feel like it’s being taken away. I just want to stay in lalaland.

Recap said and done now, this is exactly how this sess went. Happy house was excited to hear about my first week back, and I was happy to talk about it also. However I had this ugly burning sensation sitting in that familiar couch cushion. It tingled in my spine as I sunk deeper into the safety of the room. And as he started asking me how the week was, that burning sensation traveled into my chest. What I hate most about these sessions is that I can never forget the physical pain. We can talk and talk and talk and never remember anything spoken. However the feelings and physical pain… never leaves.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I released all my fears and how I knew I was going to end up quitting. I’ve gone through this many times and I knew the triggers. I was grateful for an easy start but then it got to wild, to quick. And I hated that. I felt different. I felt like everyone knew what happened to me and that my breakdown was just “work related” when it wasn’t. I felt like everyone was whispering about me and laughing behind my back as I did my job. Like I was always being watched. Even thought I tried to breath, it’s like I forgot everything that I was practicing for (my guided meditation practices). And my mind knows how to pull strings. Thinking that everyone knew my struggles and how I couldn’t remember my breathing, they all silently made fun of me more. And I didn’t want that. So on Tuesday as an opportunity presented itself- I dove in. I let everyone know that I wasn’t going to be dealing with any nonsense and things will be going my way. No questions asked. Although, as soon as I spoke it out loud I didn’t feel anything good. I felt no positive, triumphant, or warm burst of energy. I felt lifeless, and full of air. Which made me feel exhausted. And as I’m sitting there on the verge of tears yet again, telling him all of these fears I notice he takes a breath.

He’s telling me some information about how he thinks yoga could help me. I am a person whose whole mood can change if I don’t sleep enough and he’s noticed this. He says that this class is kinda expensive but it could possibly work for me. The instructor is a woman who not only teaches yoga, but she teaches meditation and teaches other yoga instructors. I was interested. However she’s based 30 minutes away from me, and I have terrible commitment issues. Especially if they are more then 10 minutes away. I’ve always been that way. I appreciated the info non the less and I hope to try it out. I’ll have her contact info at this weeks (eight) session.

Going back to the sleep topic, he also believes that I need to focus more on a nightly routine. Once again I’ve never been “timely” organized as an adult. So this is more of a challenge then I thought it would be. I’m too focused on finishing up whatever task I’m doing before bed, that when I’m past bedtime I don’t even think about spending that 15-20 minutes to help me rest easy. I jump right into bed and then think about how I didn’t do something so simple as my nightly routine. I beat myself up over it and then it causes me to toss and turn and hate myself. However I can’t find myself getting out of bed to do it. I’m also not a morning person. I can’t stand waking up bright and early just to “do” things in the day. I’m conflicted here because I don’t always feel that way. Sometimes I enjoy waking up with a clear head thinking “cool, I have nothing holding me back today”. No immediate tasks need my attention. And I feel free to actually wake up and do whatever it is I want to do. Oops, I’m getting off topic. Anyways, I don’t do well with waking up early and I can’t stick to my routines.

So his only advice was for me to try and find some routines that work for me, and that I needed to find things that could help me sleep. I have nightmares and vivid dreams. I wake up almost a dozen times a night and I don’t get any rest anymore. So it affects me throughout the day. Right now as I’m writing this, I’m exhausted because once again I didn’t sleep. And once again, I didn’t go to work because I didn’t want to have a bad day, from not getting a good nights sleep. I’m spoon feeding myself negativity at this point. I’m not trying. I’m not giving myself a shot to just work through it. Because I’ve already made up my mind. As I said in the beginning. I don’t want to work anymore. And I can’t help myself here.

Our session was cut short in my opinion. I was the last client of the day, so we cut out 10 minutes early so he could go home. And I get it, I’ve done it before. I was just so heart broken. I wanted to just stay on the couch and lay down in hopes that I could find happiness. But before we said good bye, I had asked him why.

“Why can’t I be normal and go to work and take care of responsibilities like everyone else? Why am I so different? “

He didn’t even twitch or breath. He just stared at me.

“It’s ok to feel that way.”

I started crying again as I walked out the door. That soft but dense latch from him locking the door rung in my ears.

Routine, learn to wake up, and it’s ok. I’m throwing my hands in the air.


Facebook page | Facebook GROUP | Twitter | YouTube |


Why I do, what I want to do; About me VLOG!

Hey guys!

This isn’t that far in depth about my life personally, just some moments I had that really impacted me. And I wanted to share that with y’all. I will produce one about my depression also, but since my anxiety was a big part of my life I just had too.


My co-host Jaja has been a huge part of me the last few months and he’s made me think about getting into an emotional support animal(s). I’ve been doing research as well on how to become a trainer for therapy animals. So weird how much love I have for him, can make me think. Love u yaya. ❤

Thanks for watching!

Facebook | YouTube | Twitter |

Week six: Give in just a little bit.

I know I say this a lot. However I found myself in some rough slumps last week. Before my eye opening post, I had shared a few days ago.

I arrived at the happy house almost distraught. I was extremely anxious and completely shut out from the world. In the waiting room I felt as though everyone was watching me as I sat underneath the TV that was hosting Spongebob, again. Greasy hair and               un-brushed teeth I sunk deep into the cushion hoping no one noticed I didn’t do those things. Twitchy and rocking back and forth I sat and sat and sat for what felt like forever. Until someone called my name, and there he was. Standing there peering through the door frame was the one I desperately wanted to see. Without skipping a beat we greeted one another like we always do, shake hands and smile. I was shaking the whole time.

On the verge of tears I sat down yet again into a couch- on the edge of it though. I wanted to feel something. A sense of fear or maybe even just being aware that I was on the edge and could fall off it any moment. However I never felt neither of them. As my body grew heavy I once again sunk into the edge without any fear or realization that’s what I was doing. Just moved on from the though, with a tapping foot. Fiddling with my hands still on the verge of tears, my face red from what I think was confusion and embarrassment. Even though I desperately wanted to belch my soul I found no words to come. I couldn’t form a single thought, or a sentence for that matter. And  after what felt like hours, he finally spoke.

“How are you doing today Faith?”

Open the flood gates. Leaning back I breathed in sharply as my body refused to speak. Because no words wanted to come. Nothing, once again nothing made sense to me. And I couldn’t do it. Even typing this out now, the feelings that I had that day still linger and I want to cry all over again. From the indescribable pain that I felt. It’s like on presentation day, when you have to stand up in front of the whole class and you have to explain your presentation board or read your book report out loud. And as you stand there, clearing your throat and shifting your weight from one foot to another; looking into the crowd. Waiting for the right moment to speak. And for a split second you are sweaty and clear your throat one more time, as a signal to your brain that it’s time to talk. However nothing comes. You’re just standing there in front of everyone choking. But.. don’t know how to tell them you are. So you think “maybe they know I’m choking. Oh god they can see it, I know they can.” So you clear your throat for the last time and with trembling words you begin to sputter them out. You’re stuttering even though you know clearly what to say from the digital prompt in your head. It’s just your throat and voice box disagree and refuse to work. Called out for the day. I felt all of that in that two minute span of me sitting down on that couch, just waiting for that moment to come. Nothing did.

So as I coughed and cleared my throat over and over and over again that light in my therapists face fled. And I started to cry because he knew I was choking. And I knew that he knew it. So with caution and a tenderhearted voice he asked me if it was ok if we did a guided meditation. I nodded, and there it was. My moment. “O-o-o-kay. S–su-sure. I’d like t-t-t-t-t-” breaths in sharply once more “that”. As he’s dimming the lights he gets on his chair with the wheels. I can feel the vibrations as he sits down in it, and rolls around. The hardwood floors making the tiniest sounds of rejection as he continues to go back and forth from his desktop to his notebook. An ad plays while the YouTube video starts up and he chuckles just the slightest, which makes me smile too. “Darn ads.” he whispers. And I silently nod in my head in agreement. I’ve closed my eyes at this point. Wanting to just escape this moment and listen to the sounds around me. And as the video begins I mentally note how I leave my body. My eyelids were like concrete. Sealed and dried over ready to be driven on. My face relaxes and the tension that I didn’t know I had lets go. It was like that specific couch cushion had a secret trap door into another world and I was calmly reclined into it. Where all I could see was trees and a the sounds of birds fluttering. The faint sounds of gushing water over rocks, and the sound of grass swaying in the wind. That inner peace that no one talks about. I let go. I let this woman’s’ voice transport me into a realm of my deepest dreams. And it was beautiful.


As the guided meditation came to an end, I found myself disappointed. In that inner peace of  burning blissfulness where it felt almost endless- it violently ended. What felt like months simply turned into 5 minutes. Cracking the cement off my eyes felt like the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my whole life. My eyes were watery like they always are when I’m done meditating. However this time, it felt different. I was sad. And as I stared once again at the white walls around me I felt something so indescribable.

“How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.”

Shifting his weight once again, I found myself aware of my surroundings. Realistically this time. I breathed in another deep breath and I muttered “I don’t know how to describe it.” And then it was his turn to breath in. Which he’s told me from before that sometimes he needs a moment to be aware of his clients and his surroundings too. Take a moment to think about your response. And that’s what he was doing.

“You’ve done better before. What makes today different?”

“I don’t know how to describe my feelings.”

“Ok, but you don’t need to do that right now. Just start small and say whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“Empty.” I said speaking over him. “I feel empty.”

And he took another breath. “Ok. That’s a start. Good.” writing down whatever it is he begins to nod. I just stared at him emotionless. My body not sure what to do, so she cries in frustration. He hands me tissues once again. “Why do you think you feel empty?” he asks after a long moment. “I don’t know. I have no meaning I think.” And he nods again. An hour goes by so fast when you’re not paying attention. Or when you’re so wrapped up in whatever project, event, task, chore, whatever it is- that has your focus. It just zooms by. As we continued going back and worth; him with the super long questions and me with my two word reply he finally says something that made a click inside of me.

“It’s ok to feel that way. Just remember it’s the depression.”

It’s just the depression. And guess what, I don’t remember anything else from that session. I believe we as humans only want to remember- what we want to. Like when someone is talking and they say something and it triggers you instantly to talk over them. Because whatever it was that they said, it was the only thing you wanted to hear. So the rest of their speech goes out the window. Because you only wanted to believe that one thing. Like in arguments. You cling to the point of what they are mad at. So when they try to explain why they are mad you tune them out. Stirring up your own angry pot with their words. You’ve done it. We all have. And that’s what happened in this session. I only heard what I wanted to hear.

As I was hustling out the front door into my car, I didn’t speed off like I usually do. I sat there once again. Feeling trapped. I didn’t want to move or do anything anymore. I just wanted to sit there with an empty mind and not do anything. It was less then a minute though of me sitting there. I felt like everyone was watching me as I breathed in and out. Watching the sun set around me a flicker of peace had sprouted. Although it soon died as I drove off to go home.

I haven’t seen many movies where they reference therapy sessions. And I just wanted to say this.. that not all sessions are “good”. Not all are going to be about talking back and worth and really engaging with whatever it is that you wanna talk about. Sometimes the happy house people will do all the talking. Sometimes you will do exercises. Sometimes you will sit there not wanting to talk. Sometimes you will come in happy, and sometimes you will come in a complete mess like I did. Returning as a renewed person or a broken soul. It’s not about you laying on a couch while you cried about whatever it was that stressed you out, and that fake librarian looking person is head deep in a notebook going on and on about “Mmmmm. How’d that make you feel?”. It’s never like that. And the people you “think” you see going into these offices aren’t some ugly, no shower having, dirty cloths looking nobody. All the people I’ve seen in this office look so normal. With their makeup and perfume. Nice clean cloths.. and designer brands at that. They are smiling and waving like they have no problems. I shouldn’t get too far into it. This office does a wide variety. It has “family” in it’s name it for a reason. So it’s not something… or what I believe to be, something to do with an individual per say. But just couples issues. I know children come here too, I’ve seen plenty of them (that is why Spongebob is always on) and honestly, that doesn’t make me feel better. I never cared about it until that day when I did come in like that. Dirty and ugly and like a sore thumb. Like a weed that left unattended because that person was too lazy to pull it. Until it grew big and noticeably ugly. That was me. I was that ugly wallflower.

I didn’t learn anything either that day. I was just anxious and depressed and wanted to feel anything else but those. Sad to say I let them go for a moment that day.

When you’re ready to smile again.

I’m sweating. Only because I’m upstairs on my desktop and they say “heat rises”. So it’s hot up here. I’m shaking every now and then and as I filter through all the tabs I have opened.. I physically feel my mind and body race into all sorts of thoughts that I can’t seem to get a grip on.

Yesterday was a bad day, and I thought today was going to be another bad day. It took me two hours after waking up to realize that I needed to do something. I needed to get up and try to do something. Anything to make myself not feel like such a failure. Anything so someone would look at the task or action at hand and go “Look at you! You’re doing great!” But I won’t believe them. A task or action at hand that could shoot relief into my bloodstream. A task or action at hand that will release me from this suffocating grip around my torso. Anything. And as my cat comes, he headbutts me- his usual signal to open my arms so he can curl into me. It’s a sign I’ve recently noticed when I’m not myself. When I’m struggling to understand what I need to do to help myself. But I can’t figure it out. Nothing comes to mind. Just self disappointment on how I can’t get up and do something so simple. I let him hold me. And as my streaming tears fall on his fur, I can feel the vibration of his purrs in my chest. And I cry some more.

Some time had passed and something surged inside of me. I was willing. I was willing to try, just for a second. Start small. Something that would help feel a little more organized. My to-do lists where piling up and I couldn’t make another one. Another undone to-do list. So I made my bed. Jaja (my cat) loves when you make the bed. He bounces under the blanket and likes to smack the blanket down. It’s comforting to watch his joyfulness. After I make the bed, I needed to fold the laundry. It took me two hours to fold it all, but I’m proud to say I did it. I put the tv on and that’s what distracted me the most. But it’s ok. I’m ok with it now. And then all of a sudden it came back to me. Sitting down on the bed, it crept back. That sinking feeling. Where all of my insides instantly vanished- ripped out- and I’m left standing there, crumbling in on myself. The bones snap and grind together, my skin cold and solid. Shattering as it clashed on the way down with my bones. Left behind was a mess unable to be put back together. Humpty Dumpty has nothing on me at this point. So why bother. My soul was gone, and it didn’t want to come back. I was reminded how much of a failure I was. How much of a true loser I was. How I’m never able to complete anything. How much of  a burden I am. How much of a disappointment I am. How no one understood because I don’t know how to explain it. I can’t form words that have any intellect behind them. I drown myself with them- the words. They catch in my throat and clog my airway. The burning is so intense I’m crying, begging for my stomach to react and throw it all up. To help clear my air way. But she’s not phased. Because she’s already collapsing in on herself. Folded in so tight she can’t breath herself. And I panic. The sloppy kind, where I’m wrapping myself as hard as I can, eyes wide and flowing fluids. The type of breathing you get annoyed at in the horror movies because they are so loud and obnoxious and you want them to stop. Hyperventilation so intense you tremble but at the same time, you have a clear head. No idea how to make it stop. No idea how to get out. Just… sinking. Waiting for it to pass. So that the physical exhaustion can induce a sweet, blissful coma.

What started it all, all together.. I suddenly wanted space. I wanted to move out of my parents home because they want me gone. But not enough to push me out with nothing. I was reminded how much of a burden I was for not working while I dealt with my anxiety. How much of a burden I was while I dealt with my depression. How much of a burden I was because I wasn’t doing anything with my life. How I suck up all sorts of resources and need to contribute more. I felt selfish when in reality I’m not. And I felt so exceptionally lonely. Hopeless. Standards that are so high I can’t see them. Even with my anti-glare glasses. Expectations I attempt to crawl up too. However it’s on a mountain with no ledges. And you bet those standards are up there too. I know it. But whats the point. I’m not athletic enough mentally and physically to accomplish this. Lazy. Because I gave up before even giving it all I had. But I had nothing to give in the first place. Unmotivated.

And I haven’t tried. I haven’t put effort into anything. So I get worked up and angry with myself for not doing just that. Trying. I get so worked up that sometimes I’ll forget what I was so worked up over. It can take me days to remember that “one thing i didn’t do” and I’m angry all over again. Wondering why I can’t do it. Why I can’t help myself. Because the tool box was misplaced, and I can’t even bother to look for it. Because there is no point in wasting any energy, when I can’t try.  Can’t help myself. Just no point.

I understand now. I get it. I know I must live around it. Let this demon take the wheel and drive until it’s on empty. And hope there isn’t a gas can in the trunk. I get how I have to help myself. I get how I need to reach out. I get that I need to do something. I get how I must look forward to a fresh new day. But I can’t set myself up for that disappointment. I can’t let myself believe that yet, it’s just too premature. Just take notes on the scenery and log the hard work later. When you can handle looking back on these notes. When you’re ready to relive how truly dark your demon was. How his smile was so piercing white you recoiled. How he boomed with laughter for each flinch. How he held your hand and said it will all be OK. How he took your food away. How he took your strength away. How he took your will away. How he took your mind away. When you’re ready to put back together your skin and bones. Your lungs and heart and warmth. When you’re ready to smile again. And when that time comes to read these notes, smile and learn. Don’t take his hand next time. Smile and extend yours instead. When you’re ready.

Week five: the act of not doing. 

This was by far the greatest session I’ve ever had at the happy house. Who knew working out your problems with a total stranger would be the right place to go? 

I want to start off real quick with what my “official” homework is. I’ve been asked to watch “mindfulness” videos. Which is a type of meditation that I never knew about. Its an act of rethinking, and restructuring the brain to think more clearly. More open about the present time. Which I like to believe no one really has tuned in to this part of life. I’m not talking about work, school, your to-do list. I’m talking about taking a moment for yourself, and to tune into your body. I mean, this is what I’ve learned from doing these mindful meditation apps. This is the dense part of my homework. I’ve never, for as long as I could remember- had a routine. So I’m working on setting a positive routine up. So with routine in mind, the happy house has also requested I try yoga. Nothing serious. I was instructed it would help being physical. Which is also something I’m trying to work on. 

If you recall, last week I spoke about trigger warnings. (Barely, to be honest) and this is another part of my homework. Here I find this to be a some what simple task. All I have to do, is journal my habits and analyze them. Sadly with my memory I struggle with details, however I recall the intense emotions in the situation. Writing this out now, I realize maybe I do need to try and remember the details. Something had to cause the intense emotion, right? I think so too. 

So brief overview: get a routine, meditate, yoga, learn triggers. 

Jumping into the happy house visit now. We start off each session with the positive. I personally have been locked up in my home for the last 7-9 weeks. So all I have to particiape in, for positivity was usually a habit. However this week, I don’t remember what I said. (Sorry!) The only thing I was excited to share, was that I was FINALLY going out with a friend! I was extremely excited. And how I’ll be returning to work sometime this week. (Hopefully. I haven’t received any news about my work schedule yet. I’m just officially released back to work as of 7/24/17)  However I know I said something else in the beginning of the session (I think maybe my sleep schedule?). Not just those two events. 

Like I’ve talked about before I’m still finding myself zoning out at certain times. Where I’m completely still and I let the vision in front of my completely merge and blend together. And I did this for a tiny section of this session. I was bored I think, of being told the same thing about my anxiety. I feel like I have a good hold on the tools provide that I can mange it. I was really interested in talking about the depression side. Because I still don’t know the triggers for depression. Hell I still don’t know all my triggers for anxiety. It was just, when I came home from that weeks session (session 4) I wasn’t feeling any sort of positivity or “good” emotion. I felt like crap and I didn’t want to commit to anything. And it lasted for almost a week. (Last Tuesday is when we met before his vacation, and I saw him on Thursday) so it was a large amount of time for me to sit and really think about that session. I was left a mess. I just couldn’t believe anything I had said. And after telling him those exact words, what he told me next I will never forget. 

He had told me to be accepting. Right now I’m fighting with two different demons and I need to learn how to accept MYSELF. I need to adapt my life AROUND these two things. He had asked me what I would do if I found myself I’m front of a mountain that I need to get across. I didn’t awsner because I was curious of his awnser instead. So he proceeds with ” you don’t go through it. It would be impossible. And you can’t go over it because it’ll take to long. But here, you just go around it. ” and that really spoke to me. However I want to look at it, my anxiety and my depression is the mountain. And I can’t let them force me to do the impossible or the hard work. I just go around and let the mountain be. And I cried. Those red shot eyes and hot steaming tears cried. I was so moved at his words. It really opened me up. 

He had also told me that I shouldn’t let my emotions take the wheel. Don’t let them dictate your life. We talk about emotions as items on a shelf. So if I’m feeling too many emotions I need to take a moment and think about the ones that I can’t handle in that moment. These were the words I desperately needed to hear. Not some simple shit like “get over it” or “try not to feel that way” but genuine words to live by. My anxiety or even my depression- I’m not sure what yet. Has always made me extremely sensitive to my emotions. I would feel them 10 times more then the average person. I was considered sensitive because it. Although with this kind of tool, I’ll be perfectly OK with being sensative. Going back to the items on the shelf, if what I have in front of me are the emotions I’m feeling he instructed me to take out the ones that didn’t belong. And then the ones that I could manage on my own, that didnt really need ALL my attention. So all that was left was the elephant in the room. The one that sapps all the energy. The emotion that needs 100% focus. Stare it down. Don’t let this emotion ruin your day, take control. Show this little guy whose the boss! Take back the wheel. Find out what works best for you and controlling that emotion. 

Recovery in this situation, isn’t even recovery. You’re rewiring your brain to live differently. You’re changing your habits, exposing the bare nerves and beings of your well being. You’re taking back control of you’re life, and you’re learning to live differnely. Adapting to a better life. Recovery is a huge understatement here. Its healing. Its.. Its growth. And here is where the acceptance comes in. Every day is a challenge. And everyday is a new day- good or bad. You have to accept those days, and remember that you are the one in control. Remembering your coping habits, and your self care list because that’s all you can do on those days. Accept your feelings, and accept your treatment plan. Dont judge yourself. Be patient in doing so. Because none of it happens over night. It all takes time. 

And I was silly to think that on week three, I was even close to being “fine” or “better”. I was way over my head here. Learn to accept the defeat and learn from lost battles. Love yourself. Be kind to yourself. Be as positive as you can be. I know these are things you read or hear every day, but until you really hear them. Until you really live those words then you won’t know. You won’t know your true limits and your true emotions. All of these things are what we went over and it just hit me like Starbucks coffee. I was thrilled. Relaxed and ready to work towards it all. I felt understood. Moving forward I don’t pressure myself, or judge my choices or my feelings. I’ll accept it all and just be as positive as I can. 

And I hope yall will to. 

The mindful meditation apps I currently use are: Calm and Simple Habits

Honestly, how can I help myself. 

I quit. I want to throw it on the ground and stomp it out, quit. I also want to be comatose. I’ve tired of feeling tired all the time. Day after day after day. I don’t even know what the word “rest” means. Why does it even exist honestly. No one does it. Waste of time. But that is what everything is based on, time. 

Which one of these is the most appealing: afraid, terrified, frightened. Because I don’t know which one. They are all the same – just a huge tense quivering ball. And that’s exactly what I am. Writing this out is so.. Speechless. Maybe even funny? Humiliating. Do people even understand words sometimes? I don’t. Here I am once again looking at myself like I do everyday but some is different this time. Something I honestly can’t put my finger on and its gnawing me alive. Just like these words, once again I’m typing. None of it makes sense. I want to paint a picture, but the words won’t work. They have no meaning. No value. 

I have to be honest with myself. Is this a relapse? Because I don’t know ANYONE who is actually- PROPERLY being treated for their mental illnesses. Maybe one but I don’t know his story. I’ve never asked. Who asks that kind of stuff? I’m all kinds of high when people ask me how I got help. Because I want to help them. But I can’t even help myself. I’m clinging to things that don’t exist. I wish i could comparenit to air, but its not even that thick. Im clinging to nothing. Like, no one tells you about recovery. At least, that’s what I believe. No one ever wants to share the horrible, fucked up moments they had. I don’t even know what’s natural anymore. However people can fuck up, right? 

I’m writing to understand a feeling I can’t explain. Its so suffocating and heavy and relentless. I’m just a shell now. A hollowed shell. A vessel unable to be filled again. 

I think, this is a relapse. My mind is relapsing on itself. 

And its extremely terrifying. 

Week three, whats at the bottom of the pot?

Today I found myself in a zoned out daze. You know the ones where you can’t help but block out everything around you, and your head is clear? But you’re physical and mentally exhausted. So then everything turns into a slow motion, and you lose all sense of your surroundings and time. 

For a recap, I haven’t been sleeping well. Actually I haven’t been sleeping at all, just some four hour naps top. Which is probably why I feel do dazed; ultimate bummer. I found myself writing all last evening while in voice chat with a friend. So imagine my shock when he tells me he’s “ready for bed”. I mean, I’ve only been writing for about an hour, knee deep in. Or so I thought anyways. One minute its 9:30pm and next its 1am. I totally lost track of time. It made me uneasy at first and totally vulnerable. I didn’t want to be alone. I wasn’t ready to sleep either so I tried to fill the time with my bullet journal, but didn’t have any energy to. So I just did what I’ve found myself doing almost every day for the last two weeks; Grey’s Anatomy. I’m trying to sleep but I see its pointless, my mind won’t shut off. I watch it up until 8am, spent some time with my boyfriend and found myself ready to sleep after a good sob session around 9:30am. 

Now, I probably would have slept more but I didn’t want to find myself with a cancelation fee from the happy house because I didn’t give them enough notice to reschedule. Aside from the help I get here, I honestly don’t want to lose out of $50. Its that little push to just ” really go”. I’m up twenty minutes before my appointment and I’m just rushing to go. Didn’t even brush my teeth or my hair. Just changed and went. I felt alert enough to respond to everyone but at the same time I just wanted to zone out. Just stare right off into some distance and let my eye holes glaze over and let my body relax. Which is exactly what I did today. 

Happy house makes me feel like I’m I’m school. Like if im assigned homework and don’t do it, I’ll feel like I disappointed them. Or even worse, they will see me as the disappointment and not want to treat me anymore. They will just review my sessions and laugh and tell me they can’t help me. Happy house doesn’t though. They ask me “what would make you think that?” So I sit and ponder the question. As the silence builds my ears start to ring, and because we are limited time they will ask another question “do you think you disappoint everyone?” Or “what started this feeling in the first place? Are you self conscious?”. These questions make me really think. They say most anxiety patients have self conscious issues. That’s mostly- if not always- the case and the roots of all problems. However I don’t find myself in that category. And they find that interesting. I love my body and self imagine. I love my personality and everything about myself. It starts with you. So that just means I have different roots to my tree. And figuring it out is the long haul. Going to have to hit up Lowes for some gardening gear I think. Better safe then sorry! 

Moving on to the rest of the visit, they made some points that I never noticed before. I have a habit of remembering the bad. I let the negativity in. She doesn’t even have to ring the bell, because I’m holding the door open for her 24/7. I make her dinner and dessert. Give her a foot massage, back rub and genuinely give her attention. I’ve invested so much time with her, that she just eventually moves in. Bad habits cant leave me yet. I have confrontation issues so telling her to move out would hurt more then her staying. I guess I’ll have to just let her cook her own food from here on out. 

After this small talk, they proceed to talk a little bit more. More things the improve on. Now enough information had been accumulated that I was set goals that I have to achieve. (Going back to the $50 fee, I think its totally worth owning my goals then losing money hehe) however I don’t remember them. I don’t even remember the last 30 minutes of my session. I found myself back into my zoned out area. I tuned out the happy place. The white walls were so blurring it just melted everything together. I watched as all the colors of the person in front of me blend in with the chair they sat in. And morph into the white wall. It felt like all the ugly unpopular colors tried to get together and form a different shade together. I was completely gone. As I tried to blink away into focus and come back to reality my eyelids retaliated. Weighing themselves down I’m protest. No one wanted to leave this world. All it took was a simple reminder: you can go home and nap. It worked. As soon as I come back they’re asking me to sign my goal sheet, understanding that these are what we will achieve. I’m given homework on how to be mindful. I once again found myself at a loss for words. Where did the time go? I couldn’t have talked that slow. And they were rapidly talking. So what happened? This time loss thing is a killer. I might as well hand him the knives.