Fragile

I have a bit of a mush brain recently. I've been trying to keep up with my general routine, but it's been difficult. Therapy for 5 hours 5 days a week really takes it out of you. BUT, I'm beginning to feel better. Still sort of fragile, but better.

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Collage and a Good Cry

I don't know what it is about collaging; the last time I was in IOP I decorated EVERYTHING. The art therapist actually said to me "I was excited to see you were coming because I missed your collages." This is what I did to my folder today.

I learned something about myself that really shook me. And I cried for a long time when I came home. The thing is, this thing that I learned is something that my husband has been bugging me about for a long time. I love him because he never said, "I told you so." He listened and talked and heard my pain and then repeated everything he had told me in the past as a solution to this issue. And I'm so exhausted from crying and so scared of the solution that I don't know if I can go through with it.

I didn't expect to be so shaken by something. Erin, you say, you are in an Intensive Program. They are gonna dig. I just hope I don't dehydrate myself tomorrow. And I hope I'm not bringing you down! It's just my life right now, and I feel stripped down to the bone at the end of my second day. To the bone.

And with that, I'm making dinner.

It is such a secret place, the land of tears. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

Okay. So I'm a Basketcase

My IOP evaluation was today and if you call crying for an hour while I talked about why I needed to be there it went well. I can't go into a lot of detail because it involves a lot of family issues, but the long and short of it is that I am incredibly overwhelmed, feel under appreciated, and constantly stressed out. Also, they believe my depression is cyclical as every time I've been in an IOP or hospital it's been in Septermber. It's not the greatest spending your birthday ina psychiatric hospital.

My meds aren't right so they are going to find me a psychiatrist and therapist who can manage my depression better than my family doctor (who freaks out a little bit every time I tell him I need a refill on my anti-anxiety medication - never asked for it too soon, have been on the same dose for 3 years, and yet it's addictive, so most non-psych docs freak a little when writing for it.) My last psychiatrist refused to treat anxiety, so I'm not going back to her.

So I was sent home, was told to take my anti-anxiety meds, and to come back tomorrow at 9 am. Then I'll have to sit in a little circle and tell everyone why I'm there. Which is so complicated I don't even know where to start. These people are good people, though. They helped me so much a few years ago and I'm happy to let them help me now. So that's my basketcase day.

And I took this picture. For you astrology people out there, goldenrod is my ruling flower, whatever that means. I just think it's cuz it blooms at the same time that Virgos have their birthdays, but it's probably much more complicated than that.

Gobbeldygook

So I've been struggling all day trying to come up with something wonderful to write about. A good list. A questionnaire (someday, I'm going to do Proust's, but I don't want to think that hard right now). I started thinking about how we were all princesses of a most high king and got this great picture of a cute girl in a tiara in my head - then nothing.


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I'm pretty far gone. I don't know how I got this bad, but it's bad. I broke down and called an Intensive Outpatient Program for depression (ie, I probably should be in the lock-up unit, but I really don't want anything to do with that) today, one that I've been in before. I have an evaluation Monday.


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My brain is so gobbeldygooked. I can't concentrate, I can't have simple conversations with people. I was trying to alphabetize something today and had to give up. Tim has had to do all of the housework because I'm not doing a bit of it. I'm just getting up, getting dressed, and watching inane things on TV like "Flipping Out" (and I gotta tell you, no matter how bad I get, I'll never be as crazy as that guy) and reruns of seasons of America's Top model that I've already seen 3 times. And the wanting to cry over everything goes without saying. I listened to Adele's version of "To Make You Feel My Love" 21 times today. Really.


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I don't want sympathy; that's not why I'm writing this. I'm writing it more because this terrible disease can come up on you and turn you from a Nobel Laureate Neurochemist into a blathering idiot. Who has served their children chicken nuggets and cereal for all meals for the last 3 days. And is becoming enthralled with "The Kardashians." If you find that you fit this description, maybe you should find your local Intensive Outpatient Program, too.


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My husband thought I shouldn't write today. He said not writing was okay (I know that) and I looked exhausted (again, always am) and I should just keep watching "Cake Boss." But I wanted you to know what was happening with me, especially if I start writing about positive affirmations and mandalas and start sounding like a hippie psychologist. So that's what's up. May or may not write tomorrow. But don't worry about me disappearing; I'm a bit hooked on this blog thing.


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Oh, and I thought I'd share the lyrics to Bruce Springsteen's "Secret Garden" with you

She'll let you in her house
If you come knockin' late at night
She'll let you in her mouth
If the words you say are right
If you pay the price
She'll let you deep inside
But there's a secret garden she hides

She'll let you in her car
To go drivin' round
She'll let you into the parts of herself
That'll bring you down
She'll let you in her heart
If you got a hammer and a vise
But into her secret garden, don't think twice

You've gone a million miles
How far'd you get
To that place where you can't remember
And you can't forget

She'll lead you down a path
There'll be tenderness in the air
She'll let you come just far enough
So you know she's really there
She'll look at you and smile
And her eyes will say
She's got a secret garden
Where everything you want
Where everything you need
Will always stay
A million miles away