Written after my CBT therapy.
It’s always a much needed boost going to therapy. It’s like a routine of spiralling and thinking I’m going insane all week, then having a 50 minute therapy which explains what my brain is doing and putting some reason to it. Like the panic diary, it’s giving me alternative explanations to what I’m feeling which are factual and rational. Rational is what I need. I can see why people have therapy every week.
I struggled with the panic diary. I had an odd week in general so trying to write that down and finding an alternative answer was a challenge and tiring. Which, God Emily, obviously it would be. I have to carry it on.
I had two days of no anxiety this week (the doctor gave me some anxiety pills to give a go if and when I need it EVEN THOUGH I DON’T WANT PILLS ARHH) and that was bizarre. At the time I embraced it and danced. Literally. Which was super (that wasn’t a side effect, that’s just ‘normal’ Emily). But then It made me extremely sad that my ‘normal’ now is going to sleep thinking I’m dying. It’s still a positive though. It’s showed me what’s possible.
We worked out my health related anxiety cycles I spiral in. Pretty interesting. We have to start with the negative thoughts first – which the panic diary should help with and practising mindfulness. Little things like when I have negative thoughts try to concentrate on things and sounds outside of myself. I’ve dived into the world of mindfulness before so I know the difficulties and the rewards.
My anxiety and depression had gone down on those sheets you have to fill out. Plus, therapy made me feel better. I went in shaking and quiet, I came out and sang my worst in the car all the way home. Then ate lemon bonbons. I fucking love a lemon bonbon.
I didn’t talk a lot. I’m not sure if I’m meant to. I felt like I didn’t have loads to say really, and I’m sure that’s okay sometimes, but by half an hour she didn’t have anything else to say. I probably should have opened up a little more. It was one of those days when I felt like I would just cry at anything though, and not helpful crying, like uncontrollable and snotty.
Maybe having an easy life isn’t what we as a species need. She explained our bodies want to fight to survive, basically, that’s how we are still here. But we don’t have to now. I do have an urge in me to be self sufficient so maybe that’s that? I need to grow some carrots pronto.
I mean, all I can conclude from that is that I’m more prepared for a zombie apocalypse than my partner – while he’ll be chill, trying to befriend them and take them down the pub for a pint, the adrenaline would be pumping through me to karate chop their arses. Kind of. I am a fast runner, unrelated.
I won’t be at therapy next week, so next post will be on the 4th feb.