My mind is swirling with ideas right now, like I am looking at a disco ball through a kaleidoscope, but I have to start somewhere, so I guess I will start here.
First, this video :
Tons of interesting stuff in there. But the thing I want to focus on is that study where people wrote down their personal story then did a mental health test.
According to the vid, the people who changed their personal narrative to be more positive then reported feeling better.
And that might seem obvious, but it blew my mind.
It made me realize that I have a profoundly and deeply negative personal narrative, and that if I want to escape this deep dark hole I am in, I need to change that shit pronto.
I’m thinking of it as “spin”, in the political sense. We all know that there are different ways to present the same facts (remember facts?) and the way they are presented can lead to radically different interpretations of said facts.
And interpretations are depression’s playground. It knows it can control you no matter what the facts are by horribly skewing your interpretation of those facts.
But it’s not like I am surrendering objectivity. That was the first thing my old way of thinking tried to use to scare me off. Why, spinning the truth…. that’s just like lying to yourself! And that way lies MADNESS.
Bullshit. Because my head is already full of madness. It comes from the depression. Depression has been adding really negative spin to everything for a really long time. It’s like I have my own personal Fox News in my head.
Adding positive spin to counter the negative spin I am used to would only bring me closer to true objectivity, with no bias.
Besides, there are worse things than being a little delusional. Why not be optimistic? After all, pessimism and optimism are equally delusional, but at least the optimistic person is happy.
So choose happy! It should be the easiest choice in the world to make!
Another thing : my therapist today said that he thinks that the real me is an upobeat, optimistic, gregarious person, and you know what? I think he’s right.
That’s what I was like before the rape. When I was a wee thing I was a very happy, charming, adorable, precocious kid. I had absolutely no fear of people (something which often amused adults) and I was a very happy kid.
That’s my normal state. That’s the real me. Upbeat, cheerful, charming, and adorable. This other idea of myself is merely a product of a long term illness and is no more representative of the “real” me than how I feel when I have the flu.
So fuck all that negative bullshit. It’s been nothing but lies the whole time.
I am a bright, funny, lovable, charming dude. I make people happy when I am around. I am a positive influence on the world and lots of people love seeing me and enjoy the time we spend together.
People like having me around.
And you know what? So do I.
More after the break.
When darkness falls
Oddly enough, I was in a better mood during the first half.
Usually it’s the other way around.
Then again, I did just wake up from a nap. And waking up is usually what makes me miserable during part 1,
I realized earlier than I have slept maybe five hours in the last 48 hours.
That’s like…. bad. Real bad. Like, I need to tell Doctor Costin about it bad. I need to bite the bullet and confess to him that I can’t find my trazadone. Or at the very least, take another lorazepam when it’s time for bed.
It does have a secondary indication as a sleep aid, after all. And it worked that way for me once. Managed to unseal my sleep vault for a while.
At least I am being adult and sane enough to recognize that this is a crisis even thought I don’t feel bad yet. I have not been so wise in the past.
But while I feel okay, I also can feel that tension in my mind that builds up when I haven’t been getting enough sleep, and I know it portends many bad things if I don’t manage to break the curse some time soon.
Perhaps the champagne I plan to drink it a couple of hours will help. Alcohol can be a pretty good sleep aid if not taken in excess.
But I doubt I will be buying any more liquor until next Xmas, because just from that big glass of champagne I had with Xmas dinner I have started to crave alcohol.
After all, the warm waters of inebriation can be very tempting to someone like me, who craves escape more than anything else. Drink some liquor and get a vacation from my depression, anxiety, and physical pain.
Which is exactly why I am not going to touch the stuff for a long time. The last thing I need is to add alcoholism to my list of ailments.
My kidneys would blow out pretty much right away.
It’s kind of like my attitude toward gambling. I really, really, really like to gamble, and that is exactly why I don’t gamble except for maybe the occasional scratch ticket.
And by occasional, I mean, maybe one a year.
Because I could totally see myself becoming a gambling addict. It’s the rush of excitement that does it for me. That feeling of possibility.
Basically, I am more or less a prime target for any form of addiction. I have the mental illness, the escapist personality, the weakness of character, the works.
I guess I should be glad to be addicted to video games instead of something way worse for my body and my mind.
I’d still be better off without that addiction, but at least it isn’t hurting me physically.
Well, not directly, anyhow.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.