Had a good follow up with my Internist today. She is the best. Yes, I need a psychiatrist, but my Internist is my Confessor, the only one (well, her and her GI spouse) that know the tip of my secret iceberg.
I feel healthier having visited her, somehow more whole. I think that I would greatly benefit from having a counselor/therapist in the same way, but...baby steps. We are upping my dose of Prozac. Its funny, 4 months ago - although I KNEW I needed to be on something - I dreaded it. I felt as if I was admitting defeat. I should be able to manage my emotions, my behaviors, my self. Problem is...I can't. I can't do it without help. Anyway, today, even before the dose increase...I don't want to stop taking the meds. I feel as if I have been ironed out. I am able to think through things clearly and process things on what feels like a normal level. I can be outside of my head. Oh, how much do I love being outside of my head?!?!!!!
Recently, an acquaintance remarked on how they have seen me at the gym with no headphones. "I could never do that," she said. My response was that I have a lot of things to sort out up there. And it's true. I may never come to a conclusion, but I have always felt the need to focus my energy on just thinking sometimes. It may be an elaborate fantasy that I want to think through, just to escape. It may be mulling over my relationships, my shortcomings, my successes. Either way, sometimes I just have to wrap myself in silence and just exist alone with my thoughts. What I am learning is that for me, the flip side of that is just as important: I have to periodically 'check out' of my self and realize that I can...I am...functioning...and I am doing okay.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Let It Be
Wow. I really thought I had more to say than this. I don't want to be all dark all the time, and I guess I haven't been feeling too dark at all lately to want to come here and reflect. Just a few random observations/ponderings...
I always thought that I partied a normal amount in college. I recently have been reflecting on that somewhat and am wondering if that is not so much true. I have a friend that in college swore that she saw me getting sick in a garbage can in our dorm. A fact that I always laughingly disputed...but now I wonder, did it actually happen and I have absolutely no memory of it (or ever did. I have a terrible memory).
One I was thinking about this morning is a formal party I went to my freshman year. I remember getting ready in the dorm. I was wearing the dress I had worn to junior prom. I remember getting ready, because other girls on my hall were going to a different formal than I was that night, and I remember talking about it with them. I can remember nothing else from that night. I don't remember getting picked up, I don't remember where the party was, I don't remember what I drank, ate, said, did....anything. Did I get so fucked up that I blacked out? (well, obviously, but I passed out a LOT, and yet still could remember things that went on) Or did something awful happen that I have deleted from my memory? It is bizarre.
I have always felt a little (probably within the range of normal) awkward in social situations, and alcohol always helps. At the time, I never thought of myself as taking it too far. But more often than not, when I started drinking, I kept going until I could drink no more. Due to not being conscious. Hmmm...
Second random thought of the day. I have always been overly inquisitive. Why not just ask? A lot of times, people will answer. Well, I got my comeuppance last week. I don't want to elaborate, but I unfortunately stumbled upon some history last week (because I asked) that I believe has very subconsciously effected my psyche and has unknowingly contributed directly to my neuroses. Getting this information has made me so much less curious about things...at least for the time being. Sometimes, there really are things you don't want to know. But when you find out, you can't go back. I feel like my whole world has been rocked off of its axis. And yet, at the same time, nothing has changed. And I think that I feel oddly comforted, somewhere in the depths of being completely horrified, by this knowledge.
Life goes on.
I always thought that I partied a normal amount in college. I recently have been reflecting on that somewhat and am wondering if that is not so much true. I have a friend that in college swore that she saw me getting sick in a garbage can in our dorm. A fact that I always laughingly disputed...but now I wonder, did it actually happen and I have absolutely no memory of it (or ever did. I have a terrible memory).
One I was thinking about this morning is a formal party I went to my freshman year. I remember getting ready in the dorm. I was wearing the dress I had worn to junior prom. I remember getting ready, because other girls on my hall were going to a different formal than I was that night, and I remember talking about it with them. I can remember nothing else from that night. I don't remember getting picked up, I don't remember where the party was, I don't remember what I drank, ate, said, did....anything. Did I get so fucked up that I blacked out? (well, obviously, but I passed out a LOT, and yet still could remember things that went on) Or did something awful happen that I have deleted from my memory? It is bizarre.
I have always felt a little (probably within the range of normal) awkward in social situations, and alcohol always helps. At the time, I never thought of myself as taking it too far. But more often than not, when I started drinking, I kept going until I could drink no more. Due to not being conscious. Hmmm...
Second random thought of the day. I have always been overly inquisitive. Why not just ask? A lot of times, people will answer. Well, I got my comeuppance last week. I don't want to elaborate, but I unfortunately stumbled upon some history last week (because I asked) that I believe has very subconsciously effected my psyche and has unknowingly contributed directly to my neuroses. Getting this information has made me so much less curious about things...at least for the time being. Sometimes, there really are things you don't want to know. But when you find out, you can't go back. I feel like my whole world has been rocked off of its axis. And yet, at the same time, nothing has changed. And I think that I feel oddly comforted, somewhere in the depths of being completely horrified, by this knowledge.
Life goes on.
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