Reflection in the stainless steel wall of the bathroom stall at my psychiatrist's office. I want to quit. Really? What good is this doing? The prodding of emotions that make me feel like I'm never going to be mentally healthy.
sigh.....Today, I feel like I will never be relationship worthy. I feel damaged and clingy and ugly. I want to crawl into the arms of someone wiser and stronger than I. I want my hair stroked and forehead kissed and be told I will survive and thrive in excellent form.
Right now, I feel I'm the only one half heartedly telling myself and doing this for myself...and I suck as my own cheerleader.
The therapy is going well. Still exhausted after each appointment. Dr. Z and I are jumping into Cognitive Behavior Therapy next week. I need to start reading my book that will help with groundwork for this.
I worry that I put the work into CBT and I fail anyways to change my wonky thinking. First and most importantly, I need to be kinder to myself especially during this process.
My BlackJack has been replaced out of necessity and since they're no longer being made, my warranty replaced it with a Samsung Jack. I want to molest it. I like it. Just still maneuvering through familiarizing myself. Better camera on it with more options. Now, if I can remember that the damn period is in a different spot.
The quality is horrible because of the 2.0 megapixel camera on my phone, but I like this one of me. It's easier to say that more because I avoid cameras as often as I can. I think I'm atrocious looking. bleh. Anyway...enjoy.
My phone knows me well. It wanted to put in "A Head Fuck of Pain," which really isn't too far from the truth.
I had my third appointment with Dr. Z (no full name here to protect all our privacies, of course), and I left after having cried a full hour. I tried not to. In full Katherine Hepburn impression....Really, I did. It just won't be that way.
We discuss meds and cognitive behavior therapy next week. I'm looking forward to CBT because I need change. I desperately need positive change in my life and this course just may be the kick in the ass that I need. As I told Dr. Z, I'm willing to be put in a chamber and sent to the ocean floor if it will help. I may need a few moments to think about it but I'll try it.
Medication is a reluctant topic for me. I've stated a couple of reasons why. He seems to understand. I'm also not closed off to the idea. I shouldn't dismiss something that may be completely beneficial to my well-being. Afterall, it may be the pressurized chamber at the ocean bottom.
My head hurts. My eyes. My heart. I am exhausted at the end of these sessions. For years I've been ignoring and repressing shit as a way to deal and facing them head on just feels like a donkey punch right now. I'm doing this though. Better or worse, I'm doing this.