tools

So in theory, I am in the hospital (PHP), to learn coping skills. To learn how to deal with emotional chaos and the like.
my mantra:
"I am doing the best I can right this second"
And I cannot underestimate the power of breathing.

However, right now I am locked in my bedroom while jon and his mom interview a potential nanny. I feel like someone took the car keys away. Actually it is more like, I gave the car keys away. So the best I can do at this second is run away, actually just hide in my room.

These are some things that I have to try to keep in my head:
-Eventually I am not going to be depressed.
-The fact that I feel like it was a huge mistake for me to have a baby is part of the depression.
-Eventually I may even begin to enjoy this.
-This is not my fault.
-Negative thoughts are only going to encourage more negativity. Instead of saying "I hate my self I am so fucking stupid I would be doing the world a favor if I just donated my body to science."
I should say
"I deserve to love myself, I am doing the very best that I can, I will get better."

If you have read this blog, you know I am not a positive paula. It is really hard to try to flip the script on thirty years of thinking. But that shit wasn't working for me so maybe this will...

Fun with Acupuncture

Some of you may remember my last bout with acupuncture and may have wondered why I would bother again. I have two friends that highly recommended it for depression.
Last Wednesday I called this new acupuncturist, who my babysitter referred me to, and my massage guy. Whoever called me back first, that would be my treat to me.

The acupuncturist called back first.
She had a cancellation, I made an appointment for the afternoon.

She was really nice and checked my pulses and looked at my tongue.
I laid down in the face donut and she stuck all these needles in. Right away I could tell this was different. The places she was putting in the needles were vibrating.
She put them in and left me to unblock my channels. Then she walked away.

After a while, I convinced myself that she had forgotten about me. Now I have no way to measure the amount of time I was there for. It was a while more than 1/2 an hour. I started off just saying hello and listening to my voice. And then I started calling louder and louder. I shall spare you the pathetic details. But it ended with her running - I was screaming and sobbing on the table. Immobilized by the pain of the needles (because of course I tried to get up). She finally pulled the needles out and I sat up and balled for 45 minutes. She made me tea. It was horrible. It was a traumatic experience to say the least.
She forgot a needle in my wrist and the only way I found it was after a few very uncomfortable minutes it was poking me deep in my chakra or whatever it was poking. I have a huge gnarly bruise on my wrist now.

Nothing like showing up at the mental hospital with a suspicious injury.

PHP

That stands for the Partial Hospitalization Program I started last week at our local hospital.

Yes, gentle reader, I am in a mental health facility.

Things are not getting better, they are getting worse. Despite my mental health drug regime I feel shitty and sad all the time. Dr. Liz was getting concerned that my breaks with reality were becoming too infrequent. This was the next step. The next step is inpatient.

I have come to the realization that this is not going away on its own. Also my impulse control is really almost non-existent. I have had to admit openly that my son is not safe around me and that I am not so safe around myself in my current state.

So now I go to "group" therapy with a bunch of other depressed people. Jon is taking advantage of the family leave act...

So my drugs were boosted in a major way and i agreed to go to this day program to get some perspective on my life and remove the stresses so that the medicine can work and we can all move on...

I really don't know what else to say. I am passed the point of being embarrassed.