I don’t know if it’s my bipolar/ADD regurgitating or clutter in the brain that has no direction. Ideas chaotic, a mess that seems to work until it doesn’t. It’s only later when I wonder why things aren’t getting done that I realize how much time I’ve lost planning and thinking but not doing. I’ve been unable to follow through with simple things these past few days.. hence my lack of posting not excluded. Even utilizing all of my reminder apps and alarms, I’ve snoozed or dismissed schedule. I’m getting ready to kick myself… sadly I’d probably procrastinate that too.
Am I just being lazy or too ahead of myself? Probably a bit of both. Having almost every mental health diagnosis thrown at me has me in patterns thinking about avoidance like some helpful crutch. Instead I should be brainstorming solutions like I have conquerable goals.
Every moment matters even the ones that don’t look good, sound rational or fair or times I’d just rather be somewhere else. I have gratitude that I am where I am at any given time in life but when I don’t include these realities in adapting forward… I get these brainfarts. It stinks. Mindfulness and present thinking help me move forward productively.
Nothing feels more counter productive than forced therapy… creating a paradoxical effect that’s probably the result of my underlying defiance. When I tell myself I “have to” go outside or “have to” socialize… no I don’t. When I tell myself I need to self care I get the same attitude in me saying “no, I don’t have to”.. because I’m OK. It brings out an immature defiance in me that I’m well aware of.
I don’t do therapy anymore instead I’m here coddling myself and not doing horrible. I’m a single mother of 4 kids under the age of 16 and I’m actually keeping my shit together. The kids keep me in my disciplined sanity. The harsh reality is if I don’t do the right thing it negatively impacts them and that is the fire under my ass I need to progress.. a forced reality check that keeps slapping me down to earth. I appreciate that.
Now due to covid all 4 kiddos are being homeschooled for the remainder of the year.. One reason I started blogging is to push me to do more, to get out of this dormant state where everything feels still and final. It wouldn’t hurt to tweak my writing too. I have to care and dig a deeper in what exactly is keeping me from feeling like I’m on track. I’ve been on track with everything I thought, but something told me I will burn out without change.
I don’t feel productive in the things I usually do and it’s OK. It’s my mind telling me to look within and spend more time reconnecting with myself. I can’t fight myself on this either. I need to care about myself and know it doesn’t take away from all the other things I care about.
Forced therapy all of the sudden doesn’t feel so counterproductive when it means self care.
I was corrected in one of my last therapy sessions when I began describing my thoughts with “You know when…” my doctor stopped me there “I statements” she paused but it was a moment for me I more than paused, I realized I’ve been distancing myself from my intimate ideas when I refer to myself like that. The very idea I was expressing was one I didn’t feel so comfortable with. It was an eye opening moment I won’t forget.
Who am I more familiar with than me? Nobody. Not going to lie therapy isn’t all bad but in a mental ward it’s a whole new beast. It’s also been years since I’ve been admitted but that hasn’t stopped me from thinking about all my encounters with various Dr’s that I had listened to closely. They’d offer their character consultation in the same way I began to speak.. with “You…” such a powerful perspective that’s both familiar and distant.
I think a lot about how much it played out like they told themselves they were more familiar with me than me. How distant from my own existant experience of life I felt when I was consulted or advised by the psychiatrists. It felt even more distant when they’d throw meds at me and leave me to calculate the next move.. like a game. I only comforted them with good behavior or risk restraints. Sounds kinkier now than it ever was.
My mother tells me a few years ago her and her doctor were discussing me and wanted to have me admitted. This was triggering, so triggering I called him up and told him “I’m not going anywhere, suck your own dick”. That Doc responded in the most chair wiggling voice ever with “I’m uncomfortable”. It gave me the biggest smile that this once entitled professional was now as uncomfortable as he was making me AND he was using his “I” statements.
Besides out of my mind, I don’t get out much. I am not completely new to blogging, I wrote about a variety of homemaking and frugal things at Momonthemoon.com but choose to let it go when becoming a newly single mother demanded my full attention. I went from outgoing and in motion to asking myself “WTF happened?!”. I can’t keep going like I have potential that I’m OK avoiding… because fuck that, I’m going to wake this bitch up.
Holding myself accountable with the edge of posting publicly because I avoid people too much. A glutton for punishment? Maybe. Either way it’ll be good for the soul to work on my writing while I try something new. Thanks for joining me…