Layers of Defense

My inner self, my core self, sits inside a stone tower within a stone castle behind a moat behind a low stone wall behind a white picket fence behind a low fence of iron pickets with roses growing up the fence.

I used to have a problem with boundaries, in that I had virtually none. This is typical of someone who has been sexually abused as a child. Over the years, I worked hard at developing boundaries. Then, as I continued to be hurt by relationships, rejections, disappointments, and letting too many people in too soon, I began developing protections.

I have a vivid and strong imagination and am good at visualization. Every time I felt hurt, I imagined myself protected by a thick wall. This wall extended out to become a fortified castle, a wide land filled with dangerous creatures, and a series of walls and fences, all with manned gates. The outer fence was too tall to see over and the roses grew huge, sharp thorns and obscured an onlooker's view inside. Eventually, no one could see inside and I couldn't see out. I had become almost completely protected against emotional pain, yet I still hurt because I didn't have close intimate friendships (I had even protected myself from my oldest, closest friends). I still felt alone. But no one could hurt me.

Several years ago, my protective barriers crumbled and broke down completely, leaving me naked and vulnerable. My therapist at the time was stunned by the self that was revealed because she had taken what she'd seen of me as truth: that I was fairly superficial and had solid boundaries. Finally we were able to do deep work. I learned that vulnerability was a strength and that being as protected as I'd made myself actually made it impossible for me to form and maintain the emotionally intimate connections I craved. I agreed to not create such an impenetrable barrier again, but I would still create the layered barriers to remind me to not let everyone in and to let people further in only when I knew I could trust them.

Over the past several years, I've experienced some heartbreaking pain. I've wanted so much to build up those barriers again, wanting to be safe from pain, but I have learned that they won't keep me safe from pain. Nothing can. And I want to be able to experience life fully, which does require being vulnerable to pain.

Better Living Through (Brain) Chemistry

It took me a long time to accept that I will have to be on medication for my mental health for the rest of my life. At first, I was sure that I only needed it for a little while, until I got control over my moods, until I stopped being depressed or anxious. Then, when my psychs started talking to me more specifically about brain chemistry, I thought maybe I'd just need to be on the right medicine for long enough to "fix" my brain chemistry, then the depression and anxiety would go away.

I now understand and accept that my brain chemistry is messed up, that it has been messed up for most of my life, and that the only thing that can help me develop and maintain some semblance of healthy brain chemistry is medication. Doesn't mean I like it, though. And I'm willing to bet money that the medications I'm on today are not the medications I'll be on five years from now, because for my brain chemistry problems it seems that the scientists haven't even stuck with the same diagnosis for five years, much less the same medications.

Of course, what that means is that I'm probably going to continue to struggle with my brain, that I won't be able to develop a stable balance. I could be wrong. I'd like to be wrong.

I felt virtually perfect that June, before Mom was diagnosed with cancer.

So my psych and I were talking last week and got on the topic of brain chemistry. I was explaining how frustrated I am that I still need weekly therapy after 30 years of therapy, with only about three years total of not being in therapy. And I am frustrated.I just want to be healthy and happy and be able to take care of myself without virtually constant medical oversight or care. Fine, I'll take the meds. But I want to stop being plunged into deep depressions or stabbed by spikes of anxiety. I want to function and function well, all on my own. But I feel a victim of my own brain chemicals.

Damn, Damn, Damn Depression!

I'm sunk in the stupid pit again. Why? Hell if I know. And it's not just depression, although that is an overriding emotion. I'm crabby and antisocial. I'm terrifically stressed and anxious, to the tune of taking an extra 1 mg of Xanax each of the last two days. (So far today I haven't taken any extra.) I took a four-hour nap yesterday and still slept for 9.5 hours last night … and still didn't want to get up this morning.

I'm really tired of being "the sick one", the one people have to ask "how are you doing today?" I have no idea what I'm doing wrong or what I'm not doing right that keeps dumping me back into this debilitating space. "Functional" might as well be at the top of the highest glacier on Mt. Rainier, it seems to impossible to reach.

You can't get there from here.

I'm trying. But I've been sleeping so late (thanks to this great melatonin-based supplement my psych recommended) that I feel if I don't get up NOW then the day is fucking OVER, so I haven't been journaling or trying to meditate or visualize. And when I do try to meditate or visualize, I haven't been able to achieve the levels I was at back before I tried the Abilify (which I've been off of all this month).

In therapy yesterday, Michele asked why I feel I have to get up and start my day as soon as I wake up. What will happen if I put it off for another half an hour while I journal or meditate or something? If I stay in bed even later, I feel as if the entire day is over, wasted. I feel like a complete failure for the day. I feel judged and judging.

We also talked about writing. And drawing. About how I used to do them all the time virtually every day, from the time I was quite young. How somewhere in my 20s, I stopped doing them much and they became fraught with difficulties and issues. And yet, I need to do them. Writing and drawing are parts of me that need attention. When I do them I feel better. I feel like myself.

Baby Steps, 1

Per a suggestion by Susanne, a regular reader and commenter on my blog, I am posting what steps I made on a daily basis for a little bit, to be interspersed with blogs of a heftier sort if and when necessary.

As I am also trying to think less and do more, I am going to try to focus on the action and the functional rather than the what and why. Sometimes I feel like a self-centered brat, always moaning and going on about my problems. But when I presented this perspective a some friends last night, one of them has already responded with a totally different perspective of me as one who is brave and committed to healing and willing to face and talk about my crap and stuff. She doesn't see me the same why I've been seeing me, not even close. That actually makes me feel better.

So, without further ado, I present yesterday's baby steps.

1. Took a short walk with Sabine. It was around the center circle of the neighborhood, so it wasn't that long but the way back required climbing a pretty good hill for about half the walk. It took 10+ minutes and we were both out of breath (oh so horribly out of shape!).
2. Assembled steel-cut oats for slow-cooking to be eaten this morning. (Unfortunately, Griffin didn't turn it on last night and I'm not sure how quickly they will cook on high this morning.)
3. Turned off computer by 9. Didn't start surfing or Pinterest in iPad. Used it for music and found that my good earbuds fit, which made me ecstatic. My good earbuds are Ultimate Ears, which I got 6 years ago, when I bought my MacBook and my iRiver Clix2 mp3 player. Both player and earbuds were most highly rated for sound quality and usability and they rock. Plugging my earbuds into the iPad after having downloaded all my music to it, then listening to the music and hear the full range of sounds, from subtle based to solid midtones and crystal clear high notes just blissed me out as I listened to the end of a playlist before bed.
4. Took a melatonin supplement and got into bed by midnight. Might have made the sleep window but reflux/acidic stomach interfered and I eventually took the 2nd pill. I'm feeling groggy this morning (but then, sleep was still broken and I got 5 1/2 hours of sleep total, but the potential is there). So I tried and will continue trying on that front.

So that's the scoop for yesterday. Tonight I am scheduled to attend a professional meeting (networking, dinner, presentation, more networking). I will NOT allow myself to skip out on it just because I "don't feel like it." Not this time. I am sick of being unemployed (or underemployed) and living in my friends' house in a bedroom. I need my own place. Now. And I need to get out on my own more.

I'm glad I accomplished what I did. I'm disappointed in that it was little. I got very little sleep the night before and didn't get ready very early. More like in the afternoon. Then there was little time to do things. Today I was up a little earlier but as mentioned before am quite groggy (on melatonin but insufficient sleep perhaps?) and my breakfast isn't ready so I'm a bit cranky. While I'm trying to avoid naps in order to be more ready to sleep, today I may make an exception just so I'll be bright-eyed and bush-tailed for the meeting tonight.

That's the news so far today. Thanks, Susanne. This is a great way to keep track and take note.

That's it for

Anger and Compassion

Dangerous

My housemate Sabine is a very angry person. She is also kind and generous. But as someone living with her, I would not agree with "sweet" the way those who do not live with her (or are not married to her) think she is. Because when she gets angry, she uses her anger like a sledgehammer and woe to him, or her, who gets in her way.

Unfortunately for me, I have issues relating to anger, particularly to other people's anger, whether it's directed toward me or not. I want to cower, I want to hide, I want to run.

My friend Julie would say this is one of my Life Lessons. My therapists would all say I can use this as an opportunity to deal with my issues about anger. I'd like to tell them all to jump in the lake, but that would just be petty. Especially because they are right.

I wish I could help Sabine. I think she needs therapy, but she is not someone I can suggest that to. There is always a wall around her that I think no one can penetrate, except maybe her mom. Not even her husband, Griffin, gets that close.

And, basically, the only person we can fix is ourselves. That's another lesson I'm learning.

Self-Discipline, But Not the Fun Kind

You know how I mentioned that I need to become more active, get more exercise, and engage in the behavioral change part of cognitive-behavioral therapy? Well, this is me committing to these things and letting you all know you can call me to be accountable for these commitments.

I blame my therapist, but maybe I should blame my friend Deb. Both of them suggested using a reward system. Deb actually suggested I use what my therapist refers to as a contingency: that I have to accomplish a particular task before I can join in our TV-watching/chatroom get-together tomorrow night. So my therapist and I, unable to come up with rewards that didn't involve food or spending money, decided I need to go with the contingency model, where being able to do one thing is contingent upon my doing another, less-desirable, thing first. And as there is no one to monitor my behavior and either allow or not allow me to do the more-desirable thing, I have to use self-discipline to stick to the plan.

I may have to paddle myself just for going along with this idea!

So that I can be held accountable, I need to let someone (or more than one someone) know what I'm accountable for. Therefore, I'm giving you all the basics. I expect only a few people to engage in this, but that will be enough.

I love to read "my" blogs, which I do every morning. Under the new rules, I cannot read any blogs until I've done my entire set of morning exercises, which includes sit-ups, push-ups, squats, lunges, toe lifts, a plank, and my foot exercises. Then I can read HALF of my blogs.

Progressive Thinking

I'm making progress! My therapist sat there this week and told me what a delight it was to watch me change how I was speaking about something, midstream, from using passive or victim-like language to strong and rational language. And how she'd been seeing this more and more the last several sessions.

We talked in our last session about how to break myself from identifying with depression and anxiety, something I do because I've dealt with them for so long they seem like something I just am. Well, I am not depression and I am not anxiety and I'm going to approach them the way I approach the fibromyalgia, starting with changing from saying my depression or my anxiety to the depression and the anxiety. None of them are me, none of them are who I am, they are simply disorders or illnesses or enemies that I struggle with, that try to keep me from being the energetic, creative, active person I truly am. I am now externalizing them rather than internalizing them.

Who would think that a small word change like using 'the' instead of 'my' would make a difference? But it does. How's this for an example? My depression makes me tired and sleepy versus The depression causes me to feel tired and sleepy. Using 'the' distances the depression from me, which cognitively allows me to add the extra words in the second sentence because they enhance the sense of distance. And if I only feel tired and sleepy, I don't have to give in to the feeling.

There is also the power aspect. As my therapist put it, the depression and the anxiety are the enemy and I have more power to fight them when they aren't part of me. My anxiety can control me; it's in charge and it's big. The anxiety is just a thing I experience and I, as I am learning to manage my emotions, am developing the ability to choose how I respond to it. 

It's freedom and it's in reach. Instead of being controlled by how I feel, I am learning to control what I choose to do in response to how I feel. The SOS Help for Emotions book says "manage your emotions or they will manage you." And I'm learning how to do that.

I've always before not done something if I didn't feel like it or done something else because I did feel like it, but always how I felt determined what I did. I basically knew that wasn't really the best way to do things, but that didn't change how I did what I did. Now I have very real proof that I not only don't have to live that way, there is a better way to live and I can do it. I'm still having difficulties with doing things I don't feel like doing, but as I'm making progress with my thinking, I'm making progress with my speaking. Next I'll be making progress with my behaving. And that's what cognitive-behavioral therapy is about.

"I think therefore I am" may be enough for some people, but for me, I think I'll choose "I think therefore I do."

Irrational Thinking, the Scarcity Mindset, and Cognitive Therapy

I am afraid. I'm afraid of many things, few of them rational. Some of them even have names. One of the things that most occupies my fear at the moment is that I'm going to run out of money and have no options. This is called a Scarcity Mindset. It's a little rational to think that I'll run out of money because I'm not working and the inheritance will last for only so long. But it's not rational to the extent that I fear it. I'm almost paralyzed with it.

It doesn't help that, for almost two years, I've been almost incapable of holding down a job. I worked at that contract job and called in sick way too often, just out of the stress of working and commuting when I was still recovering from my grief.

I'm capable of working a regular job now. I'd rather work freelance, but I think I can work something more normal. It would be best if it could be on a contract so I could get paid by the hour and extra for more than 40 hours a week; I don't want to work all those extra hours without extra pay anymore. I'm too old for that shit.

So here I am, looking for work on craigslist and the freelancer's association job list and LinkedIn and not finding anything or at least not getting even any messages back and I'm thinking maybe I need to find an office job (not like there aren't already enough office workers looking for work out there) or a retail job or something just so I can earn some money. I need to find work. I need an income. And I'm terrified that I won't find work and that I'll end up stone-broke. 

But this is something that cognitive therapy is designed to work with.

Locusts of Control

There is a psychological term called "locus of control". It basically means where you perceive the control over your life coming from: inside of you or outside of you. According to my therapist, people with an internal locus of control tend to be more successful and happy than people with an external locus of control. 

Having an internal locus of control means that you perceive that you are in control of your life and that what you do determines what happens in your life, as much as possible. 

Having an external locus of control means that you think that something or someone else — your parents, God(s), luck, the Universe, your neighbor's dog — determines what happens in your life; you don't feel that you have much if any control over it.

There is even a simple test you can take (the site asks for a name, but just so the program can be friendly and refer to you by your name; give it a fake name if you like, or just a first name), that will give you a quick and dirty determination of where you fall on the scale between 100% internal vs. 100% external control. Thirteen is 100% external — I got a nine. My BFF said he was pleased at that because he would have been unsurprised if I'd gotten a 13.