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Post by DeadpanDoubter on Aug 10, 2011 23:02:15 GMT -5
Is it too late to stop therapy? Can I devolve back into my repressed, depressed form? I don't like this 'change' shit, it's scaring me. And it hurts.
I don't like this at all.
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Post by nickiknack on Aug 11, 2011 13:36:23 GMT -5
I've been feeling really depressed lately....I hate being unemployed...and I hate the fact that every interview I get turns into a dead end  |
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Post by largeham on Aug 11, 2011 19:13:50 GMT -5
Change is scary. After/if I stop being depressed, what type of person will I be? An asshole? A well-adjusted, funny, nice person? What if I lose my friends because afterwards we don't get along? I don't think anyone wants a complete turnaround in personality. I dare say it is easier if you can remember a time when you weren't depressed, though I'm not sure.
Unemployment sucks. Sending tons of resumes, getting only a few interviews, and then losing out because you little/no experience.
Started counseling on Tuesday. I can't get the idea out of my head that the counselor is sitting there secretly judging me: 'What a whiny asshole', 'Why is he complaining, nothing terrible has ever happened to him', 'What a glorified emo kid', etc.
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Post by DeadpanDoubter on Aug 11, 2011 20:13:28 GMT -5
That's about how I've been feeling, largeham, whenever I went to DBT each week. After the group of 5 was whittled down to 2, I ended up having to discuss how my week went to a suicidal, recovering alcoholic who has to live solely off school loans and whose baby daddies won't allow her to see her children after her nervous breakdown a few years ago. And she can't remember WTF happened during that breakdown, so she keeps trying to remember, and she can't, and it makes everything worse for her.
Yeah, my problems (I've gotten over being suicidal so I'm not exactly in danger) didn't feel shallow AT ALL next to that.
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Post by Wykked Wytch on Aug 11, 2011 23:53:59 GMT -5
The only problems I have are living with a dysfunctional family and what I think are Pure OCD characteristics. If I had a dollar for every time a thought about killing and torturing people popped into my head without warning, and then I try to get it out but fail, leaving me in shock and despair... well, I'd be able to pay my way through college and then some.
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ottery
New Member
Otterly delicious
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Post by ottery on Aug 12, 2011 14:25:57 GMT -5
Went to psychologist yesterday, and it felt good to talk to someone. I had kinda broke that morning, too. Someone started sending me email saying that my ex cheated on me through our relationship, that he called me fat, that I was only with him because he pitied me, etc... I just snapped... I found a knife, ran into the bathroom, and just slashed and slashed blindly at my arm... I only came to my senses when blood started to drip on to the floor... Oh well. I guess I just went too long without cutting. I'm just glad that I'm good at hiding my injuries. Everyone thinks I either got bit by a dog, or that I cut just once... I just wish my next appointment was sooner... It's in a month. Maybe group therapy will be sooner.
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Post by MaybeNever on Aug 12, 2011 16:37:42 GMT -5
Change is scary. After/if I stop being depressed, what type of person will I be? An asshole? A well-adjusted, funny, nice person? What if I lose my friends because afterwards we don't get along? I don't think anyone wants a complete turnaround in personality. I dare say it is easier if you can remember a time when you weren't depressed, though I'm not sure. You could as easily ask what color your shirt will be if you change out of your blue one. Depression is a reaction to stimuli, and one that is probably significantly learned (with genetic and environmental predispositions), which means that you can learn new coping methods to replace it. For example, one potential way to overcome depression is anger - it can resolve psychological stresses in a similar way. If you change your toolset from depression to anger, that'll probably make you into an asshole. On the other hand, if you shift from depression to, say, acceptance - a hard shift but a good one - then that'll probably tweak your personality into a calmer, more open one. In other words, the question is not "who will I be when I beat my depression," but "who do I want to be when I beat my depression". You'll put your blue shirt away, but from there you have some choices as to the color. It's outrageously hard to start counseling, especially when we're bombarded with cultural messages about being independent and the "strong male" archetype and all that nonsense. It's exacerbated when the problem is systemic, like depression, because absolutely it colors everything you perceive. It's natural for a depressed person to see, or to fear, that kind of reaction. You're depressed! Being down on yourself is the name of the game! But don't let that control you. Trust me when I say that your counselor, if he or she is accredited - i.e. has a degree, is licensed, etc. - is absolutely not thinking those things. There's a common M.O. for counselors, and it is to view hurting people around them as exactly that: hurting people. It doesn't matter, really, what's causing that hurt, whether it's the loss of a family member or just having a hard time making friends, or even just a generalized dissatisfaction with no apparent cause. What matters is that there is hurting, and that there is, somewhere, a solution that can reduce that hurting. I work with autistic kids who will have knock-down, drag-out tantrums over things like a playing card being askew, or having to write their names on the line instead of all over the page. Are these trivial things? For you and me, absolutely. But for them, they are immense. So what my job involves is helping them to see these sorts of things for what they are, helping them realize that their tantrums don't make their situations better, and helping them learn strategies to cope that don't involve a tantrum. It isn't that they're whiny, but that they don't have the tools yet to make better choices. That crooked playing card really does cause the kid serious distress, but if he can't fix it he doesn't know what to do to feel better so he complains, because that's what humans do when they need to signify distress. It isn't so different with other mental problems. A counselor simply cannot help people if they do not view them with compassion and openness, without judgment as to the validity of their experiences. From there, you can work toward reshaping how you view those experiences, and how you respond to them, and even how you can control them. I hope that you will put faith in your counselor, and not let your perfectly understandable fears and doubts hold you back from taking steps to improve your life. |
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ottery
New Member
Otterly delicious
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Post by ottery on Aug 12, 2011 23:55:06 GMT -5
I feel like a drug addict, searching the house for knives or anything sharp...
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Post by DeadpanDoubter on Aug 16, 2011 7:10:59 GMT -5
I woke up fairly early considering that I went to bed at 2 and have been getting up periodically to use the facilities (fucking pizza), and I evidently had a little breakdown right before I went to bed. If I didn't have the Twitter messages and email in my Outbox to prove it, I'd think it was just a bad dream.
Basically, I flipped my shit early this morning. Last night was pretty good, went out to see Deathly Hallows Part 2 with my roommate (I am NEVER going to that theatre again-- couldn't hear for shit, it wasn't in digital format so no hope of Closed Captioning, and the headset they tried to configure to the movie would would in every theatre room EXCEPT that one) and then we swung by Starbucks and she got me this interesting little strawberry drink, and then we went home and I chatted with my best friend for a bit, yadda yadda, signed off...and broke down.
I sent my best friend (I've known her since I was fuckin' 15, she's my fucking ROCK) an email saying that I didn't think we should be friends anymore, that I wasn't healthy enough for it and I was fucking crazy and I might've quoted Linkin Park I can't fucking remember anymore. Don't really want to go look at the email again.
Somehow I ended up in the bathroom with a cord around my throat, sobbing my eyes out and choking to the point that I almost puked. My throat and chest is still healing from the insane scratchings I made.
I was doing so much better. SO much better. I hadn't had so much as a suicidal thought in WEEKS. I didn't think it'd been so long since I'd taken my meds, just a couple days (I've had a fucked up sleep cycle and didn't want to take it while I was up when I was supposed to be sleeping) but maybe that's my only problem. I just need to get back on my meds regularly. But I dunno, though, maybe I should make an emergency appointment with my therapist for today. It can't hurt, right?
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Post by Shane for Wax on Aug 16, 2011 19:46:25 GMT -5
It wasn't a bad dream. But the reality can get better, DPD.
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Post by Jodie on Aug 16, 2011 19:55:19 GMT -5
(((((DPD)))))
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Post by DeadpanDoubter on Aug 18, 2011 21:31:53 GMT -5
(((Jodie))) Thank you both, so much. Sorry I haven't mentioned it before, but your posts really did help me feel better...
I saw my therapist today (couldn't see her any sooner, didn't want to go to triage), and she encouraged me to sign up for DBT again. This is partially because only DBT participants are allowed to have more than 12 one-on-one sessions per calendar year now (fucking budget cuts) but also to make sure I have that physical, weekly support.
Especially now that the object of my dubious affections is living not 5 miles away from me, and I'll likely be seeing her Monday.
Shane, if I start quoting creepy stalker shit on Twitter, will you be a doll and backhand me?
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Post by Shane for Wax on Aug 19, 2011 13:09:34 GMT -5
(((Jodie))) Thank you both, so much. Sorry I haven't mentioned it before, but your posts really did help me feel better... I saw my therapist today (couldn't see her any sooner, didn't want to go to triage), and she encouraged me to sign up for DBT again. This is partially because only DBT participants are allowed to have more than 12 one-on-one sessions per calendar year now (fucking budget cuts) but also to make sure I have that physical, weekly support. Especially now that the object of my dubious affections is living not 5 miles away from me, and I'll likely be seeing her Monday. Shane, if I start quoting creepy stalker shit on Twitter, will you be a doll and backhand me? Sure thing. Though I'm going to have to do it with my right hand. My left arm is still sore from my falling off the cutting wagon. Quite a pair wouldn't we be? |
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Post by DeadpanDoubter on Aug 19, 2011 16:43:44 GMT -5
(((Jodie))) Thank you both, so much. Sorry I haven't mentioned it before, but your posts really did help me feel better... I saw my therapist today (couldn't see her any sooner, didn't want to go to triage), and she encouraged me to sign up for DBT again. This is partially because only DBT participants are allowed to have more than 12 one-on-one sessions per calendar year now (fucking budget cuts) but also to make sure I have that physical, weekly support. Especially now that the object of my dubious affections is living not 5 miles away from me, and I'll likely be seeing her Monday. Shane, if I start quoting creepy stalker shit on Twitter, will you be a doll and backhand me? Sure thing. Though I'm going to have to do it with my right hand. My left arm is still sore from my falling off the cutting wagon. Quite a pair wouldn't we be? Heh...the creepy stalker choker and the cutter-- just the description makes it sound like a terrible partners-in-murder show. Just imagine it as a sitcom. And don't give me that look, if Hitler can have a sitcom, then other crazies can, too!  |
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Post by Shane for Wax on Aug 19, 2011 18:59:42 GMT -5
Sure thing. Though I'm going to have to do it with my right hand. My left arm is still sore from my falling off the cutting wagon. Quite a pair wouldn't we be? Heh...the creepy stalker choker and the cutter-- just the description makes it sound like a terrible partners-in-murder show. Just imagine it as a sitcom. And don't give me that look, if Hitler can have a sitcom, then other crazies can, too! Bahahaha. A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy? |
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