So, about a month into the year, I figure it’s time I put pen to word processor and put another entry in here. I’ve started seeing a counselor at my campus (better late than never), did an intake assessment for potential learning disabilities or ADHD, and joined a CBT Anxiety Support Group. On top of that, I’ve been working my way through some CBT modules that my counselor gave me to try and re-program a lot of the self-negative, automatic thoughts that tend to characterize my inner monologue.
Turns out there’s like… a bunch.
I’ve filled out say… five or six of them at this point, and that, plus some of the behavioral methods for physical relaxation I’ve been learning at the meetings (specifically stuff like certain breathing techniques) have been a big help. I had what is (for me) a big milestone this weekend: I didn’t do a whole lot productive, and while I do have a little bit of guilt about it, on a scale of 1-10, while it’s normally like an 8 (and with a heaping dose of shame on top), it’s down to about a 2 or 3.
Right now, I’m trying to organize a little get-together with a bunch of people from said support group. They seem like a nice group of people (aside from one guy who frankly could do with a nice cup of shut the fuck up) and I think it’ll be nice to get to know them.
I’m doing my best to work on not being so inflexible in my expectations of myself. Being aware of the fears of “not enough” when they come up and trying to just consistently do one or two things a day consistently, instead of expecting myself to do five, get three done, then feel like shit and get depressed/anxious for the next few days where I impulse spend or eat poorly. On a micro scale, trying to do the same with exercising. I got a pair of kettlebells for Xmas, so those have helped me be able to just do a little bit of a workout at home when I want to be active, but really don’t feel up to going to the gym. Even when I DO, I’ve been learning to be more okay with just doing two or three exercises while I’m there, instead of expecting myself to do (again) five or six and feeling so intimidated by my own expectations that I don’t go at all.
I feel weirdly paranoid in saying that I’m doing better, since it feels like at any point depression could hit me with a spring-loaded boxing glove at any moment. It’s becoming a special challenge figuring out a way to honestly answer the question, “How are you?” Which I find kind of funny. Anyone else have experiences like this?
‘Til next time, my lovelies.