out · damned · spot

what i wouldn't give for a life do-over.

it's about feeling special, worthwhile. like someone that matters. feeling like i really mean something, as much as people mean to me.

instead i feel disposable. like i'm too much bother. it's a theme, something better comes along and i just don't matter as much. nothing matters as much as it matters to me, it's true. someone said that to me recently. used my real name in the sentence and everything.

i had a breakdown at work today. my moodswings are as bad as they were when i wasn't eating a few years ago. except that i'm eating. nothing has changed, at least not really. it figures with my timing that both my family doctor and current/former therapist are away. i'm going to see someone tomorrow that's never met me and likely hasn't read my file. i bawled on the phone to HR. i feel like jekyll and hyde lately. i thought i'd figured out this insomnia stuff, but i don't think i have.

i've been depressed since tigger died. my therapist told me there was nothing more she could do for me a few months ago because i'm not bad any more with OCD, but she must have seen how much it scared me so she kept me on, just didn't schedule any more visits. i've been fighting this for a few months and i just can't deal with it any more. bad days are outnumbering the good days and i'm scared all the time. not about my normal stuff, which scares me even more. security, the emotional kind. i don't know where this comes from. i'm sure someone would try to pin it on my mom leaving my dad, but i have no idea. it's just this feeling i've got. i'm paranoid, too. i'm starting to not be able to see the real thing and what's only in my mind. it feels weird laying it out like this again. too personal for people that really have no idea what's been going on with me for so long. my fault, not yours. no blame. i should have taken something to sleep, but i did the night before and it didn't seem to help. there are few things worse than being on something to make you sleep and unable to do so.

it takes longer and longer to recover from social situations or outings lately, yet they're the only things that seem to make a dent in this gloom. i think i'm pretty normal when i'm out. i mean, normal for me. it's hard to say, though.

i wish i could sleep. i really, really wish i could sleep.

"You will not need therapy when you can see yourself the way I see you. Who told you that how you are is wrong?"

i feel dangerously close to being too low to go to work.

the spoon theory. this was written by a woman with lupus, but it applies to so much more. please take the time to read it.

x-posted to my regular journal

i had my first visit with lorraine since she's been back today. it went well, but i won't be going as often as before. the rationale? i'm doing better and it's not a good idea to do active exposure work unless it becomes harder to deal with. we discussed the last year and my coming plans. the idea is to set myself up as best as i can to be able to weather future downturns better. the fact is there -will- be other ones. i'm not being all doom and gloom, that's just the way it is. working out, contortion, maybe running, knitting, those are all things i can do to bring up my internal energy and i need to focus on stuff like that to counteract things that leave me drained, like school, work and generally being alive.

she likened it to a boulder rolling down a hill. the boulder will hit other rocks and that will effect its path. the momentum behind the boulder is what will help it stay on the path it needs to be on. i need the momentum now.

lorraine is back! i go see her on august 14. apparently my file wasn't put in her caseload so she had to go find it herself. par for the course as far as i'm concerned. i told her a little of the cock ups that happened while she was off and she apologized profusely.

she said she thought of me often while she was off because of the hat that i knitted for her son. apparently it fit him for most of the year because it grew with him. i guess she got a lot of compliments on it and wasn't afraid to say it was a client that knit it. i had a good laugh over that with my coworker, figuring that people would picture some stereotypical group home type of mentally ill person drooling on it. it wasn't nice of us, but it was a bright spot to an otherwise very trying day.

every time i can't do something because of a compulsion, i feel like i fail.