I got to meet up with my coach, today. Pretty long visit, but they kinda always do last a bit longer on Mondays. We talked about how the meds are doing, and how my mind seems to be slowed down without the extreme exhaustion (which is a sign things are leveling off). We also talked about task prioritization, being hard on myself (with a really good example as to why we shouldn’t be), detachment efforts, shadow work, and dealing with Christmas. The biggest positive was only one crash-out, but it was a down crash, not a spiral upward into dopamine chasing territory. This is a good thing, because in the down out, I just got really lonely and sad and started missing my mom. Like…I really want to be with my mom. It’s Christmas, and having the brain space to think about that just…it’s been rough.
But I for some reason felt the need to apologize to people for that. I think it was more about wanting to just go dark for awhile. Which I told my coach, and she actually reframed it into something that makes sense. It’s a little distressing in my current mindset, but it makes sense. My coach thinks that maybe the universe is trying to show me that I was intended to be a loner. My whole life, I’ve been comfortable alone. As an adult, it was the same. Safer, even. People drug me out of the solitude for their own gain, and I grew dependent, and coming out of it, instead of bouncing back into that independence, I’d formed some attachments that were not healthy. This is because for one, I have never really had a healthy attachment to anyone (even my mom), and two, I’ve never really had the chance to form a healthy attachment to anyone. So apologizing to people for missing someone might be my way of saying that I’m feeling embarrassed about this perfectly human condition that I’ve been trained to feel is embarrassing.
But as a precaution, I’ve taken huge steps away from some people. I am being mindful of reaching out in places where I fear I’ll be overstepping, and I’m also being mindful of regulating my attachment. It’s nothing personal, but I kinda…I need to keep working on that. I still feel myself wanting to reach out, but with the new meds, I just think about how I wish I could, and then I get sad. Trust me when I say this is a HUGE improvement. The sad is from the place that can do what people I wish would help can’t. In other words, I’m starting to hear myself.
I forget if it’s Buddha or someone else, but there’s a saying: when things get loud, you need to be quieter. When things go quiet, you need to be even more quieter. I’ve been being quieter. I’ve been listening. I’ve been not distance walking, but just going outside and standing lakeside or on the trails and just listening. All the sadness I feel from not being able to reach out (or not knowing how to), when I really listen to it, it resonates with the sound of grief over the ten years that I fled from last year. When I truly listen, I hear I’m not sad because I’m lonely, I am sad because I’m grieving a person who was in a lot of pain and didn’t know what to do. That person is me. I’m just learning to pull the person who felt stuck in that need for people to validate and reassure him back up to the place he is supposed to be standing without other people involved. Out from beneath the second-guessing and fearfulness and loneliness and desperation. Not looking back for people who simply cannot be there. But up here in his apartment doing what he has to do to be solid on his own. Honestly, I think the meds are helping me do that. It’s almost as if the door out of my own head is opening up. I’ve been stuck in there for a long time, which is quite normal when I feel bad for something I don’t understand and I feel responsible for it.
But having ten solid days in two weeks, and only one day as a crash out was notable. My moods have stayed fairly consistent, mostly low or flat, but not outright depressed. My energy levels have been tanked, but meds and not moving consistently do that, and everyone involved expects them to adjust for the better as it continues to level off — it’s only been like three weeks, after all. So actually, it’s been three weeks, and I’ve had one crash-out, and it was a low, not a manic blackout. That…ok that’s comforting.
Priorities have been a hassle. I’ve noticed that I will go from being totally focused on the two things in one room that need to be done, for example, and suddenly I am overwhelmed and frozen in this mental pile of the 28 other things on my to-do list. Which resulted in me pulling out the Anti-Planner Planner and a D-20 die. The way I use it is this: I prioritize everything on a nice pretty list, and roll the die. If there is anything on the list that must be done before the one i rolled, then I do those items and the one that I rolled for. If I roll to clean out the sink, I’ll wash my dishes and put those away first. So effectively, I’m doing two items instead of just one.
My house, though — it is clean. It’s been consistently clean for the last two weeks. Even though I’m tired, and even though I lose myself in the piles of mental overload, I’ve been able to actually clean it. But I still have those days that I put things aside, and like I said, small car in the living area.
But it’s still day to day. I’m cautiously optimistic. Christmas isn’t here yet. There’s still time to crash out from that. Maybe I don’t give myself enough credit. Maybe it is just a matter of realigning with my core values independent of the thought processes of others. Maybe it is just getting into the routine and savoring it as it happens without stopping to worry about everything else that hasn’t arrived yet. Maybe it is just me following my own steps, one at a time. Maybe it is just not worrying so much, period.