Feeling apprehensive.

I have therapy this afternoon. (In an hour from now, to be precise.) I feel a bit apprehensive. I don't want to come off as a weakling. It's very hard for me to remind myself that I am not a weak person. That my flaws and perceived weaknesses are what makes me human. I find it difficult to admit that I am allowed my errors because they are human nature.

I've been using the grounding exercise that my therapist gave me last session and transitioning to my 'safe place' when things get overwhelming. I'm beginning to think that perhaps I should make myself some sort of a fetish/amulet/talisman that helps me to reorient myself in time. I'm not entirely sure what I am going to use, but I need to think of something. I am leaning towards wearing my bells about again. Not because Beloved finds it hawt (though that is an entertaining side effect), but because hearing them ring as I walk helps keep me mindful of my body.

Wearing multiple scarves on my head helps somewhat with that, but it doesn't feel to be quite enough. Perhaps I need to make myself a belled bracelet or something.

Random thoughts.

I've been busy recently and forgot about the existence of this blog. It occurred to me today that I should start posting in here again. I am feeling uncomfortable about such things, but that shall pass.

I'm meeting with my therapist tomorrow. I don't know why, but I've come to dread seeing her. The therapy sessions haven't been particularly taxing of late. I just get this cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. I guess it's because I am afraid of what will come out of my mouth.

I've said things that I didn't intend to. They were very valid and needed said. I just didn't consciously plan to say it. I'm a bit uncomfortable with that. Blurting out things that have been long hidden seems to be becoming the norm for my sessions. I don't exactly like it. I can walk into my session feeling kinda good. Then when I walk out, I just want to go find a rock and hide under it.

Ah well, it's something I need to do for my  health and well being. If I don't do it for me, then I need to do it for my family. My husband and sons need me healthy.

Perhaps I *can* do this...

My mood today has been relatively up from yesterday and the day before. I'm by no means back to 'normal' but I'm not as depressed. I've been doing what I can to stay busy. It seems that when I focus on keeping busy and not letting my thoughts wander, the voices in my head get quieter. The ringing in my ears becomes more present, but I'm not hallucinating my mother screaming at me.

I did some cleaning and some writing this morning. It was difficult, but I made myself do it. I don't like that it gets so challenging to do something as simple as wash the dishes or pick up the living room. I wish it didn't happen like this. Wishing, however, won't change the situation. I need to change my method of attacking this problem. I think the first step will be in reinforcing that regimentation that I attempted to put into my life with FLYLady. If it helped me claw my way back after the experience in staying in the psych ward, then it can help me get my life back under control now.

I just need to keep telling myself to focus on what I can do right now. I need to keep reminding myself that I am a loveable and worthwhile person. Sticky notes and similar things taped up in strategic places are helping. I need to focus on what works. Rather then bewailing how I can't do things how the voice in my head says I 'should'. 'Should' is not a good word for me, so I am going to do my best to eradicate it from my vocabulary. Instead, I am going to say "how I would like to".

That little change should is how I would like to have help me to get more of my personal power back out of this situation. I am going to make a point of writing in here daily. Even if it is just a paragraph. Between this and my journal, I think it will become easier to track my mood fluctuations.

Dealing with the Voices.

I've been depressed again. It's been several days now and each day just gets bleaker. I have started hearing voices again. I am tempted to just give up on my psych meds. Supposedly the Seroquel is something that will make it where I'm not hearing voices. Supposedly the Citalopram is going to buoy my mood, possibly even it out. Supposedly, supposedly, supposedly.

All of these things are 'supposedly' working and I feel like crap. I ... I don't know. A part of me is so tired of this up-down ride and just wants to get off. I'm looking at it all and going 'aren't they supposed to do something to help you when you get diagnosed?' I'm not having flashbacks, thank goodness. I don't know if they're going to start up again as I get more depressed, though.

I keep hearing her voice in my head. Whispering and muttering vicious things. I hate it. I do my best to ignore it but it just doesn't go away. The people around me have told me to tell the voice to shut up from them. It's a good thing I've got their support. I don't know what I'd be doing right now if I was just dealing with this on my own.

It's hard to make myself eat right now. I'm not at the point where food loses its flavor, yet. I am, however, looking at it all and questioning what the point of it is. Still, I force myself to eat, sometimes attempting to beguile myself with some of my favorite food. Hence the reason why we had Chinese for dinner last night. I thought perhaps the chicken and broccoli would tempt my palate and get me to have more then half a sandwich or something. I had a good two thirds of it last night. I ate the rest (with the exception of half of the rice) for lunch today.

I made sure I even had breakfast. I don't want to starve myself. I just... I hit a point where it seems like too much work to make myself something to eat. Where it seems like it is pointless to eat because it doesn't bring me any pleasure. It turns my meal into a process of choking down food that is just this side of tasteless because it is so devoid of enjoyment. I hate it.

I'm going to start writing in here more regularly. My therapist... My therapist means well but she's not really doing much to help me. I don't know what I need but something more... aggressive in approaching my illness, something that helps me seize control of at least SOME element of it would do me a world of good. I totally suck at mood tracking. Beloved says that I cycle between depressed and normal/slightly manic a couple of times a month.

I'm going to try to write at least a paragraph in here everyday. Maybe I'll get back to my mood tracking again. Though I honestly don't know what good it is going to do me. *sigh*

I hate feeling this hopeless.

Fuck my mother.

My birth mother, that is. She can go to Hel for all the good she's claimed that she's done me.

She showed up a few days ago with presents for the kids and for Gin's girls. (I'm not naming them as Will's daughters so much anymore because he's little more then a sperm donor in their lives.) Dan ran interference for me and dealt with her.

She played her martyr card and said that they were leaving us space because they didn't want to interfere with our lives. Not like I booted her out the proverbial door and Dad went along for the ride.

I've been trying to to think about all the jumbled feelings this has brought up.

I've been failing.

I feel hurt. I feel angry. But, most of all, I feel lost.

For the longest time, that woman was the center of my universe. I did everything I could to please her, to attempt to gain some scrap of genuine affection. I danced on the end of her string like a well played puppet. And when I started to become independent of her, I felt guilty for it, like I was abandoning HER.

I'm still struggling with that guilt concept, but I refuse to let her manipulate or mindfuck her way back into my life. I may be hurting right now, but I'm a hell of a lot better off with out her here to fuck with my head.

At the same time, I miss my mom. I still love her. I probably always will.

But she can go to Helheim and back, I'm not going to let her in until she changes her ways. I think Thokk will weep for Baldur before that happens.

BPD & Bipolar...

I'm struggling to accept the fact that I have Bipolar II and Borderline Personality Disorder. For some reason, it's easier for me to admit that I have anthrophobia and c-ptsd then it is for me to accept the other two. I think it's because the BPD isn't manifesting like it does for some other folks. My relationships are relatively stable. The anger gets focused on myself rather then others.

I read, I research, I study and, still, I feel overwhelmed and unsure where to begin.

Hearing voices & flashbacks

I guess the medications are working. I'm not hearing things constantly, unlike the last week or so. I feel real tired and sad, though. I've had several flashbacks and after the flashbacks I am hearing her voice in my head. They mainly happen when I discipline the kids. The male voice saying that everyone is lying to me is quiet now, thank goodness. It was more then a little annoying.

I want to go curl up in bed and sleep the rest of the day away. Or go cry or something. I don't have a specific reason why I feel this way. I just feel depressed. When the flashbacks hit, it gets worse. I've been less consistent with my monitoring of my mood and my sleep. I feel guilty about that. I've been getting my days confused. I only know it is Saturday today because Dan's home from work right now.

I don't know why but I feel like there's no point to my blogging in here or writing anything. There's this fatalistic sense that what ever I do is going to turn out wrong, somehow. I look around the apartment and see all of the stuff that needs to be taken care of and feel exhausted just by looking at it. Having a touch of a cold doesn't help much in that department either. Well, I think it's a cold, it could be my allergies. It is that time of year.

I hate this. I feel worthless, pathetic, and crushed.