Brain is at again. The anxiety is what is the loudest right now. Has been the last couple weeks now. The depression and PTSD have been solidly ones now which makes it a bit easier to deal with the anxiety because it's only one thing to lasso and two things to just keep an eye on.
There are times I have to wonder if voicing the anxiety makes it worse because I've given a partial form and other times....
Even if it just into my paper journal the day gets a little bit easier to deal with about half the time. Mostly because I end identifying what's going on and can take the steps to deal with it. The other of the time I can only figure out half of the stuff and then the other half ends being incorporeal for lack of a better term.
It's definitely time for a hair cut again. I keep messing with it which is not a good thing because I've made part of my scalp sore before from that particular fidget habit.
I also need to stop taking dishonest stock in how I'm feeling when DR offers to pour me a drink. If the anxiety is acting up... I end not putting on the brakes. I really need to stick to my guns of no more hard liquor for me. Plus Hard Cider and wines taste better in the end.
One of the things I think a lot of people who struggle with same and similar issues forget is that it's okay to simplify your self care needs. Take my pixie cut for example. Taking care of your hair can actually be stressful. I have to admit it always puzzles me as to why more females at least don't take the time to figure out a good short cut so that it's low maintenance and your spoons/spell slots can't argue with you legitimately over it.
Yesterday though even Mind was not having it. I'm not even sure what all I did to calm everything the fuck down, but it worked to the point I didn't end up wanting to stab things.
Sewing helps with that by the way. I get to stab something and MAKE something at the same time. It's a lovely thing really.
Plus there was an awkward moment today when I realized that the anti-glamour I cast in the grenade also covered the glamours we cast on ourselves to blind ourselves to our own faults. That's not so much a reflection on me however as a Big Sister of mine is...going through some shit and it's showing some of the markers from my grenade.
She stills seems to be learning on to be her own individual just as much as I am. But... I figured out how to be a me without needing a DR to complete me because as people we're already complete (though the process to figure that out will always be a mystery and not a one size fits all journey). The reason we have companions is because we don't like be lonely for long periods of time. (How do you think crazy cat ladies happen?)
It's not that we need a puzzle piece from that person. It's that we find we enjoy them and them being around enhances and enriches our own experiences. So what happens when the you you are gets hurt and you have to forcefully engage your own space in order to deal with it?
Well... a lot of bad juju especially if the other person isn't willing to actually listen and they're being a dick. (Women included).
One of the things that has been aggravating to me recently is that it feels like I've lost my ability to communicate effectively as much as I used to say 8 or 9 years ago. When I started pulling away so that I could deal with shit, it affected my memory in some ways that I'm still figuring out.
And it's really frustrating when I'm trying to talk to DR about something and he keeps interjecting with what he THINKS I'm saying. Not a pleasant fight when it happens. Hence, I'm not finding the right words or expressions to get him to shut up so I can talk. Most of the time I don't need his feedback, I just need him to listen for a bit because there's only so much typing and writing I can do before I need to know someone is hearing me and AFTER I'm done rambling around trying to figure out the thing, whatever that thing is, THEN give me their thoughts.
Oh look, a normal adult thing.... I think?
I have to admit I probably love the Pixie haircut a little too much. It's easier to deal with and in Phoenix heat... I don't have to worry about it inducing the back of my neck into a heat rash!
However there is a covenant of sorts on the horizon for me. Long hair is gonna make a come back, but there's a nudge to shave the sides and pleat the hair into a complex braid...which is not going to happen as I can't french braid to save my life. Like I understand the concept but I can't get my hands and hair to cooperate like that.
And we're gonna switch gears again because I remembered the other though I had: Conditioning. See, I'm an insomniac and part of the drinking problem is because I start to get bored sometimes...so... you see where that goes and how that's sticky. One of the problems with depression is that you sleep a lot. The more you sleep the more depressed you get and the more depressed you get the more you sleep. Extremely nasty feedback loop and you end up conditioning yourself to always seek sleep when you're depressed.
DR has suggested many times to just come to bed. No. That's why I'm always resistant to that idea of just sleeping when bored. That's a 'Aw HELL NO!' response because I feel into that loop for a couple of years in my early 20's. Ten something years ago. It fucked with everything. EVERYTHING. Hence I'm trying to keep myself within very strict sleeping times and if nothing else a semi-strict 'get up' time period.
Conditioning can happen in other areas too. Like whenever DR is home and we're hanging out, we got into the bad habit of always drinking something alcoholic. Fucking great...another factor. So now whenever he's home, I'm wanting to drink with him because that was our thing.
Yeah, you can see where that needs an over haul. Because then when he goes to bed, BRAIN the cunt that it is starts kinda freaking out because we're aren't going to bed at the same time while MIND knows we don't have to. Mind wins usually. When Mind has been overtaxed or is too tired, Brain wins and I usually spend the next day dealing with a major hangover.
That can be fixed pretty damn easily and I WILL fix it.
Now to figure out how to wrangle the anxiety.
Although next time here at the Wandering Witchling...
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