I start actual therapy next Tuesday. I’ve finally accepted the fact that I can’t fix whatever this is on my own, and I’m hoping that a therapist can help.
She does ‘behavioral cognitive’ therapy. I rather suspect that this will be difficult. I don’t really know what caused my brain to be so jacked up, or which thing[s] from my past sealed my fate, but I need to get over this, and maybe if I have someone to guide me, I’ll be more successful.
I’ve tried self-help for years. I’ve tried to get God to fix me, but he seems to think I need to do it the hard way [dammit]. I suck at consistency, so I’m hoping that having someone give me homework and check up on me every so often will get me over the hump, and maybe teach me how to finish what I start.
I’ve learned some things about myself in the past few months that have been discouraging. I’ve realized that some of my thought processes are way off when compared with reality.
I’ve learned that in my mind, if I’m not the best at something, I’m a complete, worthless failure. That’s not true, especially since you can never really be ‘the best’ at anything. There’s always someone smarter, stronger, or better than you. What I need to believe is that it doesn’t matter, that there’s room for being just good at something without the added pressure of being perfect.
Perfectionism sucks, and while it motivates some to work extra hard and push themselves more, it seems to paralyze me and prevent me from doing anything. Life has become unbearable trying to live up to my impossible standards, and I can’t continue like this.
It’s past time to get over it. I need to get better and move on to what I was created to do. I hope the time is right this time. I hope I’m ready to learn how to live. I’m tired of being defeated every time I try something and end up less than perfect.
I don’t want to give up on my dreams, but I know that I’ll never realize any of them if I can’t get past the perfectionism.
I’m depressed again. What I want more than anything is to crawl in a hole and sleep for a few months. Last week, I was closer than I’ve ever been to running away from my family and just disappearing for a while. The only thing that stopped me was that I couldn’t bear the thought of doing that to my kids.
I wanted to abandon them. I still can’t believe I got to that point, and honestly, I’m not much better tonight.
I’ve had two migraines in the past four days, and another one is threatening now. They seem to be related to whatever issue I’m trying to deal with here. My guess is that it’s not nearly as bad as my body seems to think, but the trick is to convince my brain that it’s gonna be easier to just deal with it than continue to avoid it, you know?
I don’t even know how it’s possible to have as good a life as I have and be depressed, miserable, and wish for escape. I pretty much loathe myself for it. I’m full of anger and self hatred right now.
I tried to talk about it with Steve last night, and he tries to understand where I’m coming from, but he’s never been severely depressed. He’s never questioned things the way I do. He’s content no matter how bad his circumstances, and I seem never to be content no matter how good things are.
So I dunno. We’ll see how things go next Tuesday and I’ll try to check back in to keep this thing updated with all my adventures.