Sep 28, 2011

Self care

As you can imagine I've been doing a lot of self care over the last couple of weeks, what with being so sick, twice. Lots of clear fluids, resting in bed w/ my old friend Hulu, applesauce, resting on the couch in front of the tv, pills, resting in my boyfriend's bed in front of his tv, oh and did i mention resting?

Also, letting Jack take care of me, too. He's such a sweetheart. He's been giving me lots of hugs and snuggles, kept checking on my temperature, fetched food and water for me when i was too tired to get off the couch. He even drove me to the urgent care center in Beltsville and then the pharmacy afterwards last night.

I've been thinking a lot about self care, and what techniques work (and don't work) for me, mostly in the context of my emotional health. Obviously, focusing on repeating, negative visions doesn't work. Fighting with my boyfriend doesn't work.

Sometimes I light a candle on my altar and pray to my gods to get me through.

One of my primary coping strategies has been similar to what i do when i'm sick - rest in front of the tv or Hulu to take my mind off things, comfort foods, tea. Chamomile is particularly calming to my nerves. If I want company, snuggling with Jack and letting him play with my hair or rub my feet are also soothing.

...Oh cheesus. I just realized that last paragraph reads too much like the reports I write for work. So with that, I think it's time to wrap up and go watch another episode of Hell's Kitchen. Maybe finally Elise will get kicked off and the drama will end..

Sep 27, 2011

Fact vs. Fiction

Things have been rough lately. I've managed to come down with 2 bad illnesses in the past 2 weeks - what was likely a viral UTI (no treatment for that one, joy) and strep throat, the latter of which left me with a high fever for 4 days, painful joints, swollen tonsils, throbbing lymph nodes, and a trip to urgent care. I felt like a walking, achy, raspy radiator.

old radiator 

I was actually rather frightened about what the fever meant, and I had a nice little panic attack - complete with repeating visions of being forced screaming into a spinal tap - about what would happen if I went to the hospital and what they would find.

Yeah, my mind can be a scary place sometimes. I still can't really separate out fact from fantasy - which visions are real, psychic visions? which are hallucinations brought on by depression, anxiety, fear, and imagination? This makes dealing with panic attacks even more difficult, because I become convinced that what I see will come to pass, particularly when I'm not thinking clearly.

I guess the best thing to do is not to dwell on them too much, particularly the negative ones. That only feeds my will into the energy of that pathway and makes it more likely to actually occur.

Sep 11, 2011

Curious

A blogging friend of mine recently posted about how she thinks she's finally figured out what kind of depression she has - atypical depression. Out of curiosity I started reading the Wikipedia article, to better understand what she's going through.

I was surprised to learn that there is a type of depression where you aren't sad all the time - positive events can lead to temporary improvements in mood. That "mood reactivity" has always been my experience, ever since the onset of my depression in college. Dancing, especially, always puts me in very high spirits. I mostly figured I had some form of bipolar disorder.

I am well aware of the problems of self-diagnosis, so mostly this just has me thinking thinky thoughts about what the heck might be going on inside my head.
Related links:

Sep 9, 2011

Borders raid, the second

Okay, I admit it. I went back to Borders today to see if there was anything left worth buying. With the going-out-of-business sale almost over, I figured there would be scant few books left. There were still a decent number of books, though I only found 2 pagan-y books, both not of interest.

I ended up finding 2 books that interested me, and I figured at 70% off I wasn't risking much by buying them. The first one is a novel called Blind Sight by Meg Howrey. According to the liner notes, it's about a teen learning the difference between truth and belief, using the tropes of an earthy spiritual mother and a glamorous Hollywood father.

The second book is a cookbook called Recipes for the Specific Carbohydrate Diet by Raman Prasad. It's all sorts of recipes that are grain-free, lactose-free, and sugar-free. Good stuff for detoxing, which I know is helpful for my mental and physical health. I've also been reading and hearing a lot about how gluten and casein are inflammatory proteins, and they can aggravate - and sometimes be the cause of - all sorts of physical and mental health issues, including depression, anxiety, celiac disease, and fibromyalgia (to name a few). I think it would be of benefit to me to try reducing the amount of gluten and casein I ingest to see if it helps.

Recipes for the Specific Carbohydrate Diet 
I probably won't be going back to Borders before it closes for good. There wasn't much else I would want to peruse. Also, all the empty shelves make me a sad panda.

sad panda!

Sep 6, 2011

When anxiety attacks

My boyfriend J and I went up to stay at my parents' house this weekend so that we could attend my friend K's wedding.  And because my brain hates me, I was dealing with an escalating anxiety/panic cycle all day.  My heart was beating faster than normal, and I spent an inordinate amount of time worrying about everything from the condition of my skin to which route I would take to drive home.  And I think my blood pressure was high - or maybe my hormones were all of out whack? - because I felt like I was getting hot flashes all day.

Then during the drive up, J and I had a very tense conversation that left me feeling hurt and attacked, when in fact I was saying some things that were somewhat irrational (but felt true at the time).

I really, really should have tried grounding myself to get it under control.  J even found my hematite in the car - I really should have taken that as a sign.  But of course, instead, I spent all day inwardly denying what was going on.  Gods, I am one stubborn Irishwoman.

Come bedtime, and I can't find the pillow I usually sleep on when I'm at my parents', my teddy bear (oh hush), or the books I had accidentally left there the last time.  Cue full-blown panic attack.  I started freaking out about how I wouldn't be able to sleep, and how I thought my Mom had thrown them away.  I scoured the whole house and couldn't find them (I was actually pretty thorough in my search - my Mom is just really good at "putting things away" in places that make no sense.)  Poor J bore the brunt of it, and I definitely kept him awake while I kept going in and out of the room looking for my things.  I think I finally found a pillow that was half-suitable and eventually fell asleep.

And that, my friends, is why you should always bring your own pillow when you visit your parents.
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