Stoic

Today is my first day back at my school apartment. I will be here for two weeks because my parents and I agreed this is a better environment for me in which to spend my medical-leave time, especially since I will still have an entire month of winter break spent at home.

Today is also my first day in which creating my own structure and using “fillers” is essential.

The next two weeks, without either classes or outpatient, will be filled with: going to the gym, sitting in coffee shops, sitting in the library, cooking, crafting, reading lots, writing lots. Oh, and lots of meditation. Not so exciting, but restful and certainly doable. I have a much better attitude towards this all than I did a week ago.

 

I met with my psychiatrist this morning. My appointment was at 10, but I got there late because I didn’t get out of bed until 9:30. Oopsies.

My psychiatrist is an understanding and wise older man who reminds me of Matthew Cupbert from the Anne of Greene Gables movies. I walked in and he said “so it sounds like a lot has happened since we last met” and I just sighed really deeply and nodded. “Oh yeah. A lot has happened.” You see, we hadn’t met until before this last time I went to the hospital. He wasn’t even aware that I was struggling to such an intense level.

“You are going to be ok,” he said several times today, usually followed by “But you have to stop being so stoic.”

I nodded my head and looked at him trying to, AHEM, stoic-ly hide my anxiety and frustration…

I felt very anxious meeting with him. Anxious about having slept later than I wanted to, anxious about our social interaction, anxious about the social interactions I’d had with the secretary before our session…

But indeed, my doctor was right. “You have to stop being so stoic.” He is not the first person to tell me this. I’ve been told the same thing in different ways– “You can’t be afraid to speak up,” “Don’t be proud or shameful, this is a no-judgement zone” “Tell people!”

I get so stuck in my head that it becomes scary and difficult to reach out to people (my fear of being judged, rejected, and scrutinized does not help). I get tangled up in my brain, like a gigantic ball of yarn, so that I would almost rather stay there than work hard to cry out for help.

It’s gotten progressively more difficult for me to speak up when I’m not doing well, and that makes it all progressively more scary.

Being back at my apartment by school and away from family makes things scarier. I have more independence which is wonderful and horrible all at once, considering everything I’ve been dealing with. I told my mom yesterday, as we passed by the hospital I stayed in, that “I would almost rather do something awful to myself than go back in there.” And, as the loving mother that she is, she responded with “Oh that is a very scary thing to say. I hope you don’t mean it.”

Well, I do mean it somewhat. But I’m working on that. I am making it a goal for myself to daily affirm the fact that going to the hospital is always better than choosing death.

 

When I get severely suicidal, I will speak up and I will go to the hospital because I value myself and my life here.

When I get severely suicidal, I will speak up and I will go to the hospital because I value myself and my life here.

When I get severely suicidal, I will speak up and I WILL go to the hospital because I value myself and my life here.

 

I will repeat it to myself over and over until I truly believe it. I am that important. My life is that important.

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

On the better side of things, today actually hasn’t been too bad. Not a great day and not an awful day.

I started reading “Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” today, and I already love it. Even the beginning is full of rich ideas that are presented in a fascinating way. It’s been difficult to put the book down.

Here is a quote from the book that caught my eye (mind):

“I’ve wondered why it took us so long to catch on. We saw it and yet we didn’t see it. Or rather we were trained not to see it. Conned, perhaps, into thinking that the real action was metropolitan and all this was just boring hinterland. It was a puzzling thing. The truth knocks on the door and you say ‘Go away, I’m looking for the truth,’ and so it goes away. Puzzling.”

 

Hmmm… what do you think? This spoke to my philosophical mind.

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2 Responses to Stoic

  1. milliethom says:

    You are doing so well. Your strength and desire to get well shine through your words. Remember your own ability to get through the bad times when you feel at your lowest ebb.

    Like

  2. Thank you, Millie. That is very encouraging for me to hear.

    Like

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