Live in the Moment

Rainy Evening

 

I found this here.

Miscellaneous

I had my first visit with my new therapist today (Tues.). His name is Joe and he's very tall. I've never had a male therapist before, but I think I'll like him. I won't see him next week, but after that I'll be back in therapy weekly. I'm so glad. I've called the on-call therapist many times over the last couple of months. I also saw the psychiatrist today; I'm seeing her every two months. No medication changes.

Thursday I will finally achieve, with the help of my nephew, clearing out my storage unit. I've been going through boxes at the unit two or three days a week for over a month now, so everything that comes into my apartment will be items I know I'm keeping or giving to family members. There are many, many trash bags in storage now, and lots of boxes and items labeled for Goodwill. I still have tomorrow to finish going through things, and then I've reserved a rental truck for Thursday. Unfortunately, I still have belongings in both my sisters' storage units. I don't understand how I accumulated so much junk. It's very oppressive.

Then Friday I have an appointment with the acupuncturist. I haven't been in over a year, but I'm having significant numbness and pain in my hands and wrists again, and it was cured last year in only one visit after I'd suffered with it for several months.

I'm significantly stressed about whether or not I'll receive my Social Security disability check on August 3rd. Obama is saying checks won't go out. If they don't, homelessness will increase exponentially in this country in four to six weeks. And I will be homeless again, too, and have to put everything back in storage if I can find someone to pay the storage fees for me for a while. I shudder at the thought of going back into a homeless shelter, but it's better than the street.

My niece and her husband will be in town next week, as will one of my sisters and her husband. I'm excited about seeing them and visiting with them, but I'm a little nervous and anxious, too, that I won't act right or say the right things.

I was able to spend time with my little six-year-old grand-niece on Sunday and then overnight into Monday. She really lifts my spirits. On Sunday she came so, so close to asking Jesus into her heart, I really thought it was going to be The Day. But then she said she "wanted to do it alone." At one point she asked me, "Why haven't my teachers at church told me all this?" and she also told me that she thought I would have lots of stars in my crown when I get to Heaven! I've been working with her for so long, talking to her about God, and Jesus' death and resurrection, and all the other critical things she needs to know and believe in order to be born again. And blessedly, I'm not the only one working with her; several people are, and many people are praying. So I think it will be soon. And then people on earth and in Heaven will rejoice, and all the angels will sing and dance and rejoice!

"Mistaken" Beliefs

This is from an old therapy questionnaire; these statements are the ones with which I strongly agree. I've been reading back through some of my childhood journals, and I've discovered that most of these statements were true to me even in elementary school.

I feel powerless or helpless.
Often, I feel like a victim of outside circumstances.
I don't have the money to do what I really want.
Life is very difficult -- it's a struggle.
If things are going well -- watch out!
I feel unworthy. I feel that I am not good enough.
Often, I feel that I don't deserve to be successful or happy.
Often, I feel a sense of defeat and resignation: "Why bother?"
My condition seems hopeless.
There is something fundamentally wrong with me.
I feel like I'm nothing unless I'm loved.
If a person I love doesn't love me in return, I feel like it's my fault.
What others think of me is very important.
It's important to please others.
People won't like me if they see who I really am.
I need to keep up a front or others will see my weaknesses.
I have to achieve or produce something significant in order to feel okay about myself.
I have to be the best at what I do.
To fail is terrible.
I can't rely on others for help.
I should always be very generous and unselfish.
I should be able to endure any hardship.
I should always be efficient.
I should always be competent.
I should never be angry or irritable.
I should always be pleasant or nice no matter how I feel.
I often feel ugly.
I often feel inferior or defective.
I often feel guilty or ashamed.
The world outside is a dangerous place.
It's risky to trust people.
I feel anxious about making mistakes.
I demand perfection of myself.
My self-worth isn't a given -- I have to earn it.

I have my better days, maybe even some good days. But it's no mystery why I've only had one real boyfriend, though I did have a few imitations. Never married, no children. There's no wondering why.

June 13, 2006

On this day in 2006 I had been released from the psychiatric hospital and was in an intensive group day therapy program that was six weeks long. Our assignment was to write a letter to a loved one, and we were given a list of writing prompts that must be included. Everyone in the class wrote their letter to a loved one who had passed away. This is my letter. I have excluded portions of the letter for personal reasons.

06/13/2006

Dear Daddy,

You've already been gone 5 days -- how can that be possible? I still haven't stopped by the funeral home to sign the cremation order - not that they need my signature to proceed, but they prefer that we all sign.

Soon, very soon, we'll have to decide what to do with your ashes. I'd like to scatter them but where? I thought about burying them deep below the historical marker on your Grace Chapel, or scatter them on the back of the property. God knows your heart and soul was in that place.

I remember the way you told jokes. Wow - you could really tell 'em! Remember the one where different people would stand up and say a number? "Some can tell 'em, some can't!"

I remember when we went on road trips every summer, 3 or 4 weeks, because you'd combine your vacation days with July 4th holiday. I got tired of having my birthday in a different state every year, but as a young adult I finally realized how special that was. You and Mother got us to the 48 contiguous states as you planned, and you made history live for me -- what a gift!

The clearest memory I have of you is at the campsite in Dumas after witnessing the two accidents. We were all "slap-happy," you cracked a joke, and I spewed milk all over you. It was rolling down your balding head and dripping off that nose and you were laughing so hard you could barely breathe. I wish I had more memories like that.

I always wanted to tell you that I admired your quick wit. I wish I had told you that the best and the worst of me came from you. I wish you had told me why your marriage to my mother went so awry -- your part in it, not hers. You would always start sentences with "Your mother..." I wish I had known why you two went into yelling fits every night -- all I know is that I have to keep peace at all costs...did I try to do that even then?

I felt the most love from you when you set your life aside for me after I broke my foot so badly and you ferried me to and from work and saw to it that I had transportation whenever and wherever I needed. And you did that for almost a year. You were never once late.

I wish I had gotten to know the man you became: Chaplain Catfish, a generous man who helped people and turned lives around. I accept now that you couldn't be the perfect father or the perfect husband or the perfect pastor, because you're human and a sinner just like the rest of us. I also understand that you weren't the man you wanted to be, either, but you kept trying, kept praying, kept doing your part.

The last time I saw you, you were dying, but you could hear me, I know you could, 'cause you squeezed my hand when I asked you to. I asked your forgiveness for abandoning you the last weeks of your life and for keeping us estranged for so many years. I told you I forgave you for everything you did against me and my mother, real, exaggerated, or imagined on our part. I told you I'd miss you, I held your hand some more. I lay my head on your bed and sang to you for almost 2 hours, I think. You couldn't squeeze my hand anymore. Then you were surrounded by family and friends when you stopped breathing and your heart stopped beating at 4:53 p.m. on Thursday, June 8. When I knew you were gone, I wondered if you were seeing Mother again, and if God had to give you mansions on opposite sides of Heaven.

At your funeral I took your hand and kissed your forehead, and you were so cold. I became a little child again, crying for her daddy. And since you've been gone, I've felt an ache that caught me by surprise. I miss your laugh, and the love you showed for Sharon, and the fire in your eyes when you came up with another plan to make millions and save the world.

When I think of you now it's with happiness that you gave yourself as a vessel for God's work. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I thank you for the times you were there for me. And most of all, I want you to know that I believe this world to be a better place because you lived.

Love,
your baby girl

Daddy, I remember you.

Small Difference

In May of 2006, my therapist gave me an assignment. She wanted me to make a list of the things I was sad or angry about. I made the list in two sittings, one on May 14 and one on May 27. Following is my list, with about 10 omissions for varying reasons.

1. Mother's death
2. Aunt Ruth's death
3. Bunches' death
4. Rip's death
5. Mave's death
6. Thomas' death
7. Daddy's illness
8. Daddy giving Otis away
9. Having Mother resuscitated the first time
10. Not trying harder to keep her alive
11. The lack of care she got in the hospital
12. Aunt Ruth lingering unnecessarily for 8 days
13. Daddy still talking bad about Mother
14. Having to move out of my house
15. Having to go to work like nothing's happened when the earth has dropped out from under me
16. Normal performance expectations at work; them not realizing what a major accomplishment it is just to get there
17. Mother missed the iris and the bluebonnets this year
18. Not ever being able to have a baby
19. Mother's grave doesn't have a headstone
20. Still working on clearing out Mother's house
21. Having to check on Mother's house then not doing it when I should
22. Missing all my nieces and nephews so much it hurts
23. Daddy listing me as his emergency contact
24. I've never seen Sarah dance
25. I can't go to Sarah's graduation because I've missed so much work due to depression
26. Never having the motivation to write any more
27. Being apathetic about everything
28. There's so much of our history that no one will ever know now that Aunt Ruth and Mother are gone
29. I'll end up like Tante Ruth
30. Mother stressing over her will for so many months because I wouldn't get it done
31. Lack of money
32. Probably having to pay for Daddy's funeral with Mother's money
33. Wanting to go back into the hospital
34. Having to fight so hard against cutting myself when I was in the ER with Daddy
35. Knowing I'll never publish a novel
36. My weight and the never-ending battle
37. My disgusting fat neck and upper arms
38. Not having a man to care about me and hold me
39. Looking like a slob no matter how nice my clothes might be
40. That I never realized what it must have been like for Mother and Aunt Ruth when Nanny died
41. I never got Mother to Switzerland or Hawaii like I promised
42. We don't have a recording of Mother playing "Midnight Fire Alarm"
43. I only remember Mother playing the piano once
44. I owe many many people money
45. My credit is abysmal and I don't see any way out
46. I've the lost the joy in quilting
47. I'll never be the person I was: organized, clear, a good housekeeper, motivated; even though I'm out of that pit of a house, I'm still a slob, still a slug
48. Daddy's still coming up with get-rich-quick schemes
49. Mother would be so upset and angry if she knew I'm spending time and money on Daddy
50. I'm so overwhelmed by everything I'm responsible for -- I can't do everything!
51. I'm constantly involved in negative self-talk
52. I abandoned Daddy and abdicated my responsibility by slicing my arm so I could get back into the hospital

Now it's five years later. Out of these 52 items, only 9 are not true today.

Nothing Much

Wow. It's been a rough week. The depression really did a number on me this week, and I don't know why. I'm taking my medication, nothing bad happened situationally...it's a mystery. Of course, I am having some invasive medical tests on Monday, which I'm definitely NOT looking forward to. And I'm still waiting on test results to find out if lymphoma can be eliminated as a possibility. I'm so doubtful that I have lymphoma, that I'm not really too worried about it. Maybe I should be.

I did manage to get a genealogy research blog set up yesterday, and I set up two Twitter accounts (one personal, one for genealogy alone). And I completed an online grocery order, which is no small task. So I can mark those as accomplishments

My weekly therapist moved to a position on the Crisis Team several weeks ago, so I haven't had a therapist in a while...still waiting to hear who will take her place and when they'll start seeing patients. The clinic is filling two positions, so I don't know...

So here I am, not doing much. I listened to Over the Rhine a little bit today, checked Facebook and Twitter. Now I'm eating microwaved Russet potatoes with margarine and green Tabasco sauce and drinking delightful cold tea: Stash Double Bergamot Earl Grey Black combined with Stash Chai Spice Black...mmm, mmm.

I guess I'll watch a streaming Netflix movie, then go to bed. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

Distorted Thinking?

The following thoughts and actions are generally considered distorted thinking, but they are an astonishingly accurate view into my brain.

Filtering: I take the negative details and magnify them while filtering out all positive aspects of a situation.
Polarized Thinking: Things are black or white, good or bad. I have to be perfect or I'm a failure. There is no middle ground.
Overgeneralization: I come to a general conclusion based on a single incident or piece of evidence. If something bad happens once I expect it to happen over and over again.
Mind Reading:  Without their saying so, I know what people are feeling and why they act the way they do. In particular, I'm able to determine how people are feeling toward me.
Castastrophizing: I expect disaster. "What if tragedy strikes? What if it happens to me?"
Personalization: I think that everything people do or say is some kind of reaction to me. I also compare myself to others, seeing that they are smarter, better looking, etc.
Control Fallacies: I'm responsible for the pain and happiness of everyone around me.
Blaming: I blame myself for every problem or reversal.
Should: I have a set of ironclad rules about how I should act. I feel guilty if I violate the rules.
Emotional Reasoning: I believe that what I feel must be true. If I feel stupid and boring, then I must be stupid and boring.

Adapted from a behavioral therapy website on retraining thought patterns.

Serenity

Today is a beautiful day, and so far I've accomplished much. This is my first post of my first blog. And there is irony here:  I never understood the attraction of blogs. Give me a beautiful journal and a smooth pen and I am incredibly inspired...I've written in journals since I was ten years old. They're fun. They're therapeutic. They're peaceful. What pleasure could be gained by looking at a computer screen and typing on a keyboard?

But somehow the creative, yes, creative, power of the internet has motivated me. Because my real world is very small, and I have little control over its size. The internet world, though, reminds me of who I used to be, before the overworking, before the depression, before all the deaths. I can explore genealogy and archaeology, I can visit long-distance family, I can study the stars and the seas. I can even make my real world bigger.

So I begin. I expect to post heavy thoughts, useless trivia, family history, and precious memories. Maybe I'll even post photos, and links, and original poetry. If I'm very fortunate, perhaps I'll find fragments of my former self and start to paste them together.

But nothing will ever completely replace a beautiful journal and a smooth pen.

"Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and some absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. This day is all that is good and fair. It is too dear, with its hopes and invitations, to waste a moment on the yesterdays." -Ralph Waldo Emerson