music
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I’m trying to use coping skills. The little dumb ones, like listening to music, especially during triggers and stress. Writing. You think this blog is cringe? Should see my paper journal. I use grounding when I dissociate – what can I feel? See? Hear? This involves a bit of mindfulness, and I am not always
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Things are bad at home. There was a fight…and I’m not sorry but I still feel like shit. I never called names, I felt instead like I was defending myself. But she’s so good at positioning herself as the victim and me some kind of evil abuser. Who knows, maybe I am. And I don’t
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Slowly but surely, I’m slogging through my own book one last time for all the errors. I’m truthfully a little irritated my publisher missed so many. I think he ran it through some software or something. The errors are systematic, and my military discharge date is wrong. In short, there will be a second edition.
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I spent all morning waiting on my laminate flooring only to learn of a miscommunication and now I won’t get it till tomorrow morning and it is so irritating. I wasted three hours of my life sitting around. I had to remember my anger management/IOP skills for anger and supreme irritation. Sometimes therapy feels like
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I sang last night and heard a new song I want to learn. It’s challenging with a wide range, and I already know I can do it. The song is Love on the Brain by Rihanna. Normally not my style, but it’s soulful and catchy. A love song and I have never felt love. I
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I did something that has nothing to do with managing my bipolar disorder and PTSD. Something that doesn’t have to do with my bitter mother or hospitals or medications or WORK. I went to a ball. This is the kind of thing I’m supposed to do as part of my therapy and putting my life
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 