Words of a advice given to a friend are words I need to follow.

Giving advice was a strong point of mine prior to my illness getting the best of me...prior to me losing myself in this bitterness...aka prior to me losing my mind.  In the past I've been told by friends and acquaintances that I hold a lot of wisdom and that I give good advice.  But the funny thing is... if I were really wise- I'd be taking my own advice.  As the saying goes: The best preachers are the worst practitioners.  But I'm ready to dispute that and change it.  I want to start practicing what I preach. I know I can complain about others not walking the walk, but I'm a culprit as well. The flaws I see in others are really projections of the flaws I see myself and I am ready to stand up and fight against this.  I'm ready to walk the walk because I'm so tired of just talking the talk.  Now that I'm getting better mentally, I am determined to do so.  So...watch out world! I'm coming back...stronger than ever and wiser than ever!

The following is a snidbit from a email I wrote to a friend recently.  I realized while writing this that some of the advice given is advice I needed to hear for myself.   So, I decided to send present self this email from past self to further self improve! (Now say that 10x fast).   So here it is...letter sent to friend, but also meant for self!! Enjoy!

Hi beautiful!  

   I will never get why guys lose their charm.  It must be that whole "flatter them until you get them and then totally be a different human being" guy thing.  It's like ADD or something they have.  Get what they want, get bored and feel as though they have you.  I don't get it. I understand we change as humans..but do they have to change that drastically???
 
 Have you sat down and thought about what you really want...have you thought about where you'd like to live, what you'd like to do? Live your dream...don't live someone else's dreams.
 

You are NOT an idiot or stupid at all for making the choices you have made nor are you stupid or an idiot for holding values and beliefs!  Please don't invalidate yourself telling yourself that. You have values and beliefs and you are having self respect by making them known.  So... you are not an idiot at all for having values and beliefs!! And if there is anybody out there making you feel like an idiot/telling you you are an idiot- then get rid of them now.  Even if it's your own mind- get rid of it...it's your ego talking...don't feed into it!  

Healthy relationships are meant to nourish us and help us grow...not stunt our growth.  And don't at all feel shame or guilt for the beliefs you have...they are your core.  Don't feel shame or guilt for letting go of someone who stunts your growth...would you want your child holding on to something that stunts their growth?? I sure hope not.

 Don't ever change your values and beliefs for anyone because then you are not living the life you are meant to live. If you change your values and beliefs that means that you are living it for another person and it's time to start living your life!  When you ignore what your inner self is telling you, you will end up like how I was a few months back.  You feel broken at the fact that you cant even trust yourself for not listening to your own intuition and standing up for your values. 

I can understand the predicament you are in- it's being stuck between a rock and a hard place.  But don't look at anyone as a form of security. I felt like I did that with my marriage and then it got to the point where I didn't know if I loved my ex husband.  And it was hard b/c I felt as though he used the fact that he was financially stable and that I was not against me.  And I also questioned my love...was it him I was really in love with or the fact that he was secure...It just really messed with my mind because I became confused.  I wanted to believe it was him, but maybe it was really the idea I had of him that I loved the most.  I won't know and there is no point in analyzing it now because it's done with and that was the past...Live and focus on the present! 

I've come to the conclusion that men suck!!!! LOL-- Have you ever used a vibrator? If not...I can recommend some good ones! I'm serious!!! Forget men.. BOB (battery Operated Boyfriends) are so much better- they have no baggage, satisfy you all of the time.  Also..I think getting a boyfriend pillow does the trick as well!

Honestly, I find at my age that nobody wants me either... It's sick..but I really think  guys are fucked in the head (excuse my french) because they all want the 18 year old virgins (Okay..maybe that is distorted thinking) but I don' t know. I don't mean to bring up the whole past relationship I had- but it's like the experience I had with him and the whole incident made me sick.. I was like..wow..am I not young enough for you that you have to hit on 18 year olds???

So overall my opinion is to move to Thailand with me!!!! :)

But in all seriousness (and I am serious about Thailand), but I really think it would be beneficial if you look into creating a vision board of how you want your life to be like.  Where YOU want to live.  What YOU want to see yourself doing.  What qualities YOU like in a guy and what qualities you don't like in a guy.  For any person you meet, compare them to this list.  If they don't match up...kick them to the curb.  Don't lower your standards. I'm learning in this program that doing comparisons in this way is very helpful b/c it helps you see what matches up to your values, your wants and needs.  And if it doesn't match up, questioning if this relationship is helping make you want to be a better person or making you sour will help. If they help you..keep them...if they harm you-- cut ties!

Please keep me updated. I love you and I'm praying for you! Focus on the relationship with YOUrself!!! :)

Namaste :)



So...in my next blog..I will present my vision board and answer the questions I posed in this email.   One thing I 'd like to add to the email I sent is:when figuring out values- make them realistic...not extreme! Secondly..I realize maybe my advice about men is not the greatest advice to give with all of the distorted thinking so I just want to apologize if I offended any men with this post. Please note that I do have distorted thinking and that I am aware some of the things I said was distorted.

 Thank you for reading!! 

The P.H. and Nurse Ratched experience

I was talking to a friend the other day about my experiences in the psych wards and the treatment I received in some of them.  While the workers in the psych ward in Colorado were all true angels, I met quite a few devils, as well as angels, at the ones here in NJ.  With this blog, I am mainly going to focus on my most recent psych ward experience at P.H. The HMC experiences will be written in a future post.


P.H- P.H was the most recent and the most luxurious psych ward that I have ever been to.  They provided all sorts of therapy including dance therapy, music therapy, and art therapy.  There was stretching, tai chi, yoga, a gym... there was even carpet...it was nice!  I couldn't help but wonder what it must be like where the celebrities/those with money go.

My stay here lasted 12 days (I was transferred to here from being 12 days at HMC).  On the first day at the psych ward, the psychiatrist took me off one of the meds I was just put on 6 days prior at the other psych ward (Lexapro). He then started me on a new med (Latuda) to go along with the Lamictal that I've been taking for the last 2 months.  I couldn't help but think, what incentives is he getting from this drug company since it just has recently come out?

After taking this med for two days, I began to experience EXTREME psychosis- I was severely angry the first day; I rarely get angry and boy was I angry. There was no reason for my anger, but my blood was boiling and I felt my blood pressure rise.  On the second day I became severely depressed.  On day 3, I saw the doctor and expressed what I was experiencing.  I swore he said he would take me off of the Latuda.  For the remainder of the day, I didn't eat and I slept all day.  As evening approached, I started having suicidal thoughts.  At 5:30 that evening, my nurse came in and told me it was time for meds.  Confused, I stated that I didn't have meds to take at the time (Latuda would be taken at that time). I told her that I thought the doctor told me he was taking me off.   She responded saying "I don't recall seeing anything, but will check with the doctor."  Moments later she came back "There was nothing in your chart. Do you want to take them?" I refused, I was convinced the doctor told me he'd take me off and secondly I refused them because I felt my mind go from fucked up to extremely fucked up being on this med.

Throughout the night and the next day I was highly suicidal. I saw the doctor and he asked me why I didn't take my meds. In which I responded with "I thought you said you were taking me off of it." His response was "No, I said I was increasing it." I didn't recall him saying that at all.  I expressed to him that I didn't want to take it anymore because I was experiencing suicidal ideations to the extreme. I told him I wanted to die and started talking non-logically.  He then asked me if I'd harm myself. "Can you contract for safety."  My response was "well I'm in a psych ward. it's hard to harm yourself when you are checked on every 15 minutes".  He then stated "There are still ways to do it." So I looked around the room and thought of ways I could do it and blurted out..."well I guess if I wet my hands and put my finger in the outlets I can do it."  "I'm upping your Latuda" he said and I was then placed on suicide watch for 24 hours.

  For those of you who don't know...being on suicide watch means having a one-on-one; having someone follow you around for 24 hours. The first shift worker I had on this one-on-one started out by snidely saying "You know why I'm following you, right."  There was no "Hi, how are you. I'm here to follow you around" Oh no, that would be too much to ask for from this worker. Instead I was given the  'you are burdening me because you are now making me have to work and move around' attitude.  And because of this, I was treated as if I were scum of the earth.  There were times throughout the day where I wanted to run and stop, have her follow me, turn around and run again and continue doing so.  I played this scenario in my head and thought it would be awesome, however, I knew that if I were to act it out, I'd be injected or given stronger meds that I didn't need.  So throughout the day, she sat/stood there angrily staring at me. It was quite uncomfortable.  It made me mad as well because it wasn't of my control what these meds were doing to my mind.  My mind was out of control- it was going, going, going...gone. 

After lunch, ice cream was available, which is rare; the ice cream cart comes around every few days. Although at first I didn't want any because I've been off of sweets for so long and didn't really have any craving for it...my sweet tooth kicked in. And like Homer Simpson with his Duff beer, I thought "chocolate chips...yum, " while drooling. So I went over to the ice cream stand and asked for a lot of chocolate chips.  The lady then asked "Any ice cream" in which I responded without thinking "yes..just a little bit with a lot of chocolate chips." 
 As the first morsel of chocolate hit my lips, my brain went off.  I remember savoring the taste of the sweetness of the chocolate.  And before I knew it...the ice cream and all the chocolate was gone and so was the cart. I needed more chocolate. "NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"  I thought. I need more chocolate.  I need some and I need it now.  Luckily, I remembered having chocolate in my storage unit they had locked up.  I went over to angry lady and asked for my chocolate in which she said to ask my nurse.  I then went to my nurse asked her and was told to ask the head nurse.  I then went over to the head nurse and asked her.  "NO" was the answer I was given.
 "No?" I asked
"You are not allowed any outside food." I was told.
 That wasn't a good enough answer for me..."But it's packaged and it's chocolate."
"Outside food is not allowed. It's the rule."
 And Like a mad woman I went off at the nurses station.  "I NEED MY CHOCOLATE!!" 
Angry lady then responded "You just had chocolate"
"You don't understand, chocolate is my crack (never did crack or anything, but I'm sure I acted like someone on it).  So you're telling me smokers are allowed to get their fix, but I can't have my fix of chocolate?  That's fucked up. No wonder why people are suicidal around here" I was pissed and feeling defeated I went to my room with my puppy dog behind me.  (Actually I shouldn't say puppy dog, it's an insult to puppy dogs. Instead I shall say ball and chain).

So there I laid in my bed, crying hysterically, feeling my mind slip away into psychosis.  Knowing that I was being stared down at and a burden to this worker, I got up, closed the bathroom door, and sat on the floor and wept.  What is wrong with me? Am I going to be like this forever? Why can't I be normal? I've lost my mind. I've lost my mind. I'VE LOST MY FUCKING MIND.  These were the thoughts racing in my head. I don't know how long I was in there for, but it was a long time.  Outside of the bathroom door, I heard angry woman ask for a break and her replacement sitting down.  It was a male and he asked if I was okay- In my shaky voice I responded "no."  "What?" he asked.  I repeated "no" louder. 
"Well if there is anything I can do to help, let me know. That's what we are here for." he said and I continued on crying. I looked for ways I could hurt myself while in the bathroom, but there was nothing. I was too weak to get up and bang my head against the sink (hoping to aim for the temple).  I then started to become uncomfortably cold- the cold tile floor was not helping and my bones were beginning to ache from the coldness. So I got up opened the door and went over to my bed. I asked the man sitting guard at the door if I can get vistaril and then laid on my bed with the covers over me.  I was a zombie...a dead soul in a live body that was shaking.  I overheard him ask my nurse for the vistaril.   Moments later, my nurse appeared with my med.  I uncovered my face, sat up and I downed the drug.
 "Do you want to see something funny? Do you like dogs?" the man asked.
A little spark lit up inside and I looked over to him with tears still in my eyes.  "I love dogs," I uttered in a broken voice.
"Here's a video of my dog dancing" he said joyfully and he gave me his phone.
There on the screen was a maltese poodle doing a dance as he was begging for a treat.  It was cute and funny and it brought a little bit of happiness to me.   "Isn't that funny?" he cackled. 
"Yes..it's cute." I then asked him if his dog was a maltese poodle and indeed it was. He continued the conversation and asked me if I have any dogs.  "No. Sadly I don't. I've wanted one, but haven't had the means to have one. But I have volunteered in shelters in the past."
"That's so wonderful you volunteered" he exclaimed as if he were a cheerleader.  He then encouraged me to get up and go to the group that was about to start.  "I'm running it," he exclaimed with such joy. Although I really didn't want to, I did have a little more energy after seeing the dog video and his positivity helped a lot so I got up.  Then angry lady appeared and we went to the group altogether. 
There was only four of us in this group.  There was the facilitator, angry lady,  one other patient and I. There were probably about 20 patients total on this unit and everybody else was so drugged up, they were sleeping. I forget exactly what we were discussing during this therapy session.  All I remember is at some point during the therapy group, angry lady blurting out saying "Y'all should be grateful for what you have. People have it worse off than you do."

For those of you who haven't read my post "What not to say to depressed people",  I mention in there that saying what she stated is something you never say to a depressed person.   You would think this mental health aide/all mental health workers would know this, but apparently not.  So of course after she said this, my blood began to boil and I responded stating "you know it's easy for you to say.  But saying something like that to us, doesn't help us feel any better. We know that we 'should' be grateful for what we have.  We 'should' be lots of things and the fact that we aren't grateful and we aren't everything else we 'should' be makes some of us more depressed. That's fucked up what you said." As I got up to leave the room, I mentioned that I wanted a new aide. Like a ball and chain she followed me out the door stating "If you want a new aide tell your nurse."  I overheard the facilitator say her clock out time is 3:30 and that I didn't have much longer with her.  So I looked at the nearest clock and saw it was 3:00.   "It's not worth it," I said.  But that remark only added fuel to the fire.  "No, you said you wanted a new aide, tell your nurse and you'll get a new aide" My response again was "It's not worth it.  You're not worth it."  I then sat by the 1000 piece puzzle that I was working on as she continued provoking me.  "What...you think you're the only one with problems?" she said to me.  I looked at her in disgust.  Was I really hearing this? Was this really happening? Yes...yes it was.  "We all have problems, I've got problems," she continued.  I couldn't help but respond "How low of a person are you to be saying this stuff to a patient in the psych ward?  Maybe you should consider being a patient then" 
Moments later, my nurse came out and called my name. 
"You should tell the nurse about what you said"
I looked over to her and said "You're not worth it."
I then walked over to my nurse. She asked how I was doing and if the med was helping.  I said yes, thanked her and as I was turning away to go back to my puzzle, little miss angry lady blurted out "Aren't you going to tell the nurse what you told me?"
In which case, my nurse confused, asked "What?"
The aide then pointed at me and in her ghetto attitude said "Ask her."
"What's going on, Aoife" my nurse asked.
 Furious, I said "it's nothing."
"Well you had your chance" angry lady retorted
The blood boiled up inside yet again and I went over to my nurse and said "I was wanting a new aide. She's been disrespectful and provoking and I realize it's not worth asking for a new one because there is only like 20 minutes until she leaves."  The nurse and I looked over at the aide who sat there looking oh so innocently as if she had done nothing wrong.  Looking away twirling her hair around her fingers.    I then stormed back to the puzzle and attempted to ignore the aide. 
"Actually it's 15 minutes." she said after my nurse had left.
I looked up at her and glared at her and she glared right back at me. I continued on with my puzzle and my thoughts went from rational to sympathetic to angry thinking "Wow... how do people like this work here? I understand it's a hard job and all, but what happened to keeping your personal life at home.What a fucking bitch she is."  Minutes later a fellow patient sat down across from me.  Wanting to block her from my view,  I moved my chair over so that the other patient was in the way of my line of fire.  Just as I was doing so, she moved her head over so she was back in the line of fire and glared at me further. "My God."  I looked back at the clock- 10 more minutes.

Things became quiet not too long after because the next shift worker had come in and was quite early.   Already angered by this angry lady, I was not the nicest to the new ball and chain worker.  I remember her sitting right beside me.  In my mind I was thinking...at least angry lady sat across the room and not on top of me. And I got up and sat on the other side of the table while stating "my god let me have some space."  As time went on, I started to become less and less angry.  I found the new shift worker to be quite nice. She gave me my space, didn't provoke me, and because of this, I started to open up a little.  "I'm sorry about how nasty I was before," I stated.  Shocked by what I said, "Oh, no worries.  I realized I was kindof on top of you and I wanted you to have your space." We continued talking and as it turned out, she was one of the first workers I met when I arrived at P.H. I didn't recognize her because she didn't have her glasses on and her hair was down.  I remember how comforting and warm she was when I arrived that night.  I apologized even more so because I felt so bad.  She told me not to worry about it and that it's quite normal.  I then opened up to her about the experience with the other worker.  "Yeah, unfortunately, we get a lot of those here, but there are some good ones as well. Got to take the good with the bad."
5:30 then came around and I was told it was med time.  Again, I refused to take the med. I didn't understand the logic behind him increasing the dose when it came to what I was experiencing. So being my own advocate, I told the nurse I didn't want it and she noted it in the chart.

The evening came and went by quickly.  Before I knew it there was another shift change. I thanked this shift worker for everything she did. She really helped me regain some sanity.  My night shift worker was just as nice as well.  We talked for quite some time... a lot of it again was about awful angry lady. I felt bad because she was stuck in the room with me all night, so I gave her a book I was reading and left the light on so she could read.  By the next morning, I was starting to feel closer to "normal."  I was given a new shift worker and started calling her my personal assistant.

That morning, I met with the treatment team which included my doctor, my nurse, dance therapist, social worker, and a few others. I hated how the treatment team was set up. In the middle of the room they had the one chair, the chair the patient sits. And all of the other chairs were placed against the wall, far away from this chair. So the session started off with the doctor asking how I was doing.
I responded with "A lot better.  I refused taking the Latuda and I'm feeling better. I don't think you understand what my brain chemistry has been experiencing the last few months." I continued on stating to them how "I was off meds for quite some time during last summer and as October hit, feelings of depression started to settle in. So I started taking 5-HTP.  I expressed to them that it wasn't really working (due to me not taking the correct dosage), so I started my lexapro (I had some saved) with it. That wasn't working so I took myself off of the 5-HTP and started taking Wellbutrin with the lexapro (as I was prescribed in the past).  When I was home after Thanksgiving my aunt gave me Sam-E.  So I started taking that with the lexapro and wellbutrin.  When I ended up in the psych ward in Colorado- they took me off of everything and started me on Lamictal.  When I came home to NJ and went to HMC psych ward the first time, wellbutrin was added.  When I started experiencing extremely high anxiety/mania a few days later, I was taken off of it.  Then a week later I arrived at HMC again and that's when I was placed on lexapro with the lamictal...So you see, my brain chemistry has been fucked up.  No time was given really for the Lamictal to run it's full course. What I'd like ideally is to be off all of these meds and then start from scratch."  My doctor then said that he'll keep me on the Lamictal.  As they were getting ready to push me out of the door, I told them I had something I'd like to add.  I expressed to them how upset I was of how unprofessional the one-on-one shift worker treated me.  I told them I understand that I was in extreme psychosis, but whatever the case, the worker had no right to treat a patient or anybody the way she did.  I then thanked them, got up and left.   When I saw angry lady again a few days later, I went up to her and told her that I was in an extreme psychotic mind frame and I didn't appreciate how she treated me.  I apologized for my behavior and she did the same and we left on good terms.  I do have to say, the remainder of my time there went pretty well. Overall, it was an interesting experience all around and I do have a few interesting stories from there.

Thank you for reading

Riding the Emotional Rollercoaster

In a previous blog (Taming the wild horse) I spoke about DBT skills and how to decrease the negative behavior of impulsivity by using Distress Tolerance skills.  (In the blog, I also talked about  needing to peel back the layers of an onion with impulsivity being the outer layer).  During the past few weeks, I've been using these skills and they helped tremendously with reducing my SI's and other impulsive thoughts and actions.  Now that I have been shedding the outer layer bit by bit, I am now faced with the second layer of this onion, which is working on decreasing my labile emotions (also known as mood swings).  Highly sensitive people are connected strongly to their right brain and tend to experience labile emotions and are very reactive  Some people may even experience incongruent reactions; meaning their expressions don't match the feelings (examples used in therapy include: laughing at a funeral).

Even though I am a highly sensitive person, I find having emotions awful and I wish I were a robot.  Okay, okay, you got me.  Distorted thought and judgement alert!!!!! Let me rephrase.  I find that having emotions causes too much vulnerability which allows me to be more susceptible to being hurt and having pain and, therefore, I'd prefer to be a robot.  When I stated this in therapy, I was told by my therapist that being a robot wouldn't help because I am wishful thinking (distorted thinking) and not radically accepting what is (I'm a human).  I couldn't help but say..."Argh...I can't win."   My therapist then stated  that I can win because there is hope for me: highly sensitive people can learn to balance their emotions through emotion regulation skills (it just takes a lot of work).

People who are highly sensitive are at risk for impulsivity, which is why it's so important to learn how to manage/regulate emotions.  Highly sensitive people tend to think only with an emotional mindset (right brain) and with this, experience intense emotions that may lead to unhealthy choices and cause physical health issues. Intense emotions leads to high stress (racing heart, fast breathing, muscle tension etc) and intense choices (choices we may regret due to the impulsive action we take to help soothe/cope with the intensity of the emotion). A lot of this is due to the fact that highly sensitive people have a hard time with expressing their emotions.  Another reason why irrational choices are made is because thinking with an emotional mind blocks out intuitive, creative, flexible, and value-based thinking.  This causes one to lose focus due to the fact that he/she becomes distracted with the emotional tangents. 


In order to help regulate the intensity of the emotion, there needs to be a healthy perspective (non distorted thoughts) on emotions. Some healthy perspectives include the following:

Remind yourself that you cannot get rid of emotions because they are a naturally-occurring response to situations and serve as important survival functions. Emotions can be self validating.  Our emotional reactions to other people and to events can give us information about the situation.  Emotions can be signals or alarms that something is happening. Emotions prepare us for action in important situations, especially when experiencing danger. When we feel the onset of danger, our built in response of fight, flight, submit, freeze and attach will come into play thanks to our emotions.

Emotions are neither good or bad, right or wrong; they just are feelings that exist. Judging emotions intensify the emotions, which is not beneficial.   (One who experiences anxiety may judge it as being bad and cause themselves to have further anxiety which will lead to a panic attack)

It is important to understand the difference between having an emotion and doing something or acting on the emotion. When a strong emotion comes, remind yourself not to act on it; instead recognize the emotion and allow yourself to feel it.  You will notice that every emotion has its peak and its valley.

It's important to ride out the emotion; let it come, ride it, and let it go. No matter what you are feeling, it will eventually come and go and another one will take its place.

Avoid avoiding the emotion.  It will come back to bite you in the ass. 

 Emotions are not facts.  Although they may be intense and strong and appear as such, they are not.  (For example, just because you feel stupid does not mean you are stupid).
 
Emotions allow us to communicate to others;  Facial expressions are a hard-wired part of emotions.  Facial expressions communicate like words.  Whether we attend to or not, the communication of emotions influence others.

Emotions motivate our behavior.  The action urge connected to specific emotions is often hard-wired.



 
Other ways to help with regulating emotions is by reducing vulnerability to negative emotions. To help stay out of the emotional mind it is important to follow the "PLEASE MASTER" SKILL. 

PLEASE MASTER stands for the following:

Treat PhysicaL illness-  Your body/mind is your temple, take care of it.
Balance Eating
Avoid mood-Altering drugs
Balance Sleep
Get Exercise

Build MASTERy: Try to do one thing a day to make yourself feel competent and in control.



Build positive experience with short term and long term goals.
For short term- do things that are possible now.  Increase pleasant events that prompt positive emotions. Do ONE thing each day

For Long term- make changes in your life so that positive events will occur more often.  Build a life worth living.  Work toward goals by listing small steps toward goals and then take the firsts steps.


Be mindful of the positive experiences:
Focus attention on positive events that happen
Refocus on positive when your mind wanders to negative



Practice showing compassion to emotion
Don't judge the emotion
Practice willingness- allowing the emotion to be what it is.
Radially accept your emotion.


Use Opposite of Negative Emotions Skills

1. When experiencing anger 

•  Rather than attacking, gently avoid the person you are angry with until you're in a wise mind state to confront them.

• Attempt to do something nice for others.   Sometimes when we are angry we tend to lash out at other people due to the fact someone else made us angry, which then creates a domino effect. Instead, attempt to do the opposite of emotion and be kind to others.  Kindness and compassion goes a long way. 

      2.   When experiencing Sadness/Depression

• Get ACTIVE!!!

     3. When you feel guilt or shame (example: for saying something mean to somebody or for doing what the dogs did below)

• Repair the transgression: Apologize; attempt to make things better (do something nice for the person you offended or something nice to someone else if that's not possible)
• Commit to not making that mistake again
• Accept the consequences gracefully

4. When experiencing  Fear

• Approach
• Do what you are afraid of doing Over, Over and Over again
• 
  

Thank you for reading!

Please note: A lot of this information was provided from my partial hospitalization program and is based on Marsh Linehan's work.

Two souls connect and not by chance

People come into your life for a Reason, a Season or a Lifetime. 

As I was finishing packing my belongings on the day I was leaving the Island (refer to Land of Misfit Toys post for understanding), I met a woman around my age who embraced me with such warmth and compassion.  She was truly heaven sent. I had met her briefly the night before at my going away party.  She had been a previous employee at the Island before my time and was visiting a friend who lived at the house the party was being held at. We didn't converse much that night. However, on the following day, the day of my departure, she knocked on my door.  She came over to me and gave me a hug.  She knew the pain I was experiencing, the brokenness I was going through for she expressed that she had gone through something similar herself when she left.  She wanted me to not feel alone and prior to her leaving my room she wrote her email in my journal. We then hugged and parted ways.  I was too emotionally caught up with all I had to do that I failed  to look at the page she wrote on to see if I could read her handwriting.

After my arrival home and the numerous psych ward stints,  I attempted to email her.  I needed someone to talk to and I needed some advice from her, but each of the two times I tried emailing her, I instantly received a response from the mail delivery subsystem. "Delivery to the following recipient failed permanently." I just couldn't read her handwriting no matter how hard I tried.
 I felt dispirited.  Here I was hoping to reach out to someone who had a bit of an understanding of what I've been through.  Someone who understood what it was like living up on the island, what it was like to date on the island, and what it was like to leave the island.  I needed her help; I needed to see how she pulled through and if there was a chance for me to pull through.  From the looks of it, I was just stuck in a deep dark hole, without even a beam of light to guide me.  I needed her compassion and warmth that she had given me on the day I left.  But there was no way of contacting her and I felt defeated and all alone.

I didn't think I'd ever be in contact with her again.  I didn't know her full name; I wasn't even sure what her first name was.  Although I was thinking about contacting the friend she was visiting, I didn't. I couldn't help but think distorted thoughts, "maybe she didn't want me contacting her; maybe she had wrote it badly so I couldn't read it...maybe she was just being nice.  God...I'm pathetic.  Who'd want me to have their email. I'm just a crazy- nobody wants to be associated with a crazy..what was I thinking."

 It wasn't until recently when I received a friend request on facebook.  I wasn't quite sure if this person was her or not so I sent a message "I met you on my last day at SMC right?"  She responded with "Yes hi - hope ur well - fb suggested we be friends."  
I was elated and answered back with such joy.   "Hey! Omg I'm so happy you contacted me!!!! I tried contacting you with the email you sent me, but it didn't go through."  I continued on telling her all that had happened from the relationship I was in to the break up to the heart break and the falling a part of everything around me since leaving the island.  But mainly, I talked about the relationship.

"I have the bad taste in men syndrome. I was dating S (I'm not sure if you know him).  I get mad at myself because you know when your hindsight vision comes into play and you're like WTF was I thinking? Things were going ok until Maitri came and he was one of the cooks there. Apparently this one night he had gotten so wasted hanging out with the young college girls. When I found him he was curled into a ball near his home crying and trying to hit me. I had no idea what went on b/c he was so drunk he couldn't even talk coherently. Then the next day when we talked about it, I was like "you know...you can get any 21 year old you want." His response was "my self esteem isn't that good" I was like wow...well thank you! I was shocked.  What is that supposed to mean?  I tried ending it then, but 2 days later he came to my door shaking from withdrawal. Apparently, he drank 26 beers the day before, meanwhile I thought he had gone to visit his daughter. Then he was saying all the shit about how I make him happy bla bla bla. So what did I do...yeah..I stayed with him. After that incident I just felt my self esteem worsen and worsen. I found a girls number in his room and everything. And what did I do?..yep still stayed with him. I didn't mention anything about the girl's number to him, but I was slowly dying inside. Then when I moved back to NJ, I told him I needed to end it and I wished him the best, but he wanted us to still be friends. So I gave in.  He promised to call on several occasions, but didn't.  Some friend- one of the worst friends ever!! What bothers me the most is that there is still a piece of my heart that cares about him. But I think it's just my lack of self esteem talking b/c there shouldn't be any part that cares about him. I told him at one point that the next person he dates to think about his daughter and treat this woman how he'd want someone to treat his daughter. I thought that was a fair thing to say. But apparently, it wasn't for his response was 'Fuck you!'"

I was hoping with her reply that she'd want to start a men bashing fest.   But she refrained from doing what my ego was hoping for.  Instead she replied in a comforting and healing manner.  Her response helped shed some light at a different angle.  She stated:  "Wow, that all sounds pretty harsh. I feel bad for both of you guys in that situation. As a woman I relate to you more,of course, but it is sad to hear everyone was suffering. I don't think it is necessarily poor self esteem that would bring you together as much as an understanding of each other's suffering because you each had your own. Unfortunately, when we come together in pain it usually produces a toxic effect instead of a healing one...It is strange to fall in love up there. It is a different breed all together.  It feels so intense-like the most important love ever. I think it is because you are starting to love yourself and the world and this person, but it's just a bit premature.

What she stated next was very empowering and I think a lot of people could benefit from reading it: "I had a chance to study with John Dunn who is amazing and he reminded me that one thing you can always trust about people is that they have the common goal of trying to avoid suffering and make themselves happy. When I am hurting seemingly at the hands of another I remember they are just like me trying to avoid suffering and be happy. Remember that you have started to wake up and you are not crazy. People will think you are but you aren't. In fact the people calling you crazy are especially the doctors so be careful who's story you believe. Trust that part of your heart that you opened up there that made you cry and cry. That is real, not crazy. It is the suffering of the universe. Also,have you ever read awakening to your life's purpose by Eckhart Tolle? It is the most life changing thing I have ever read and I think it would help you to make heads or tails of all of this.  Read this book. I am so serious: I feel like the whole reason I was brought into your life at that moment was to tell you to read this.lol. Don't feel like this is an end for you because it is a beginning and wonderful things are coming. Two palms pressed together"

Forget Chogyam, the Sakyong, Prema Baba and all the other "spiritual leaders" out there. K. is one of the best guru's I've ever met! As I mentioned before, she's truly heaven sent.  As a matter of fact, all of my friends I have are truly heaven sent and the best guru's ever.



Overall, this whole conversation I had with her reminds me of the quote I mentioned in The Healing Power of Art Therapy:  
"Dare to reach out your hand into darkness to pull another hand into the light; you may find yourself and you may help others find themselves."


Today, after therapy, I went straight to Barnes and Nobles and started reading the "New World" and was awestruck.  Finally, I thought, a book that is written in my language.  As I was reading (I only read 44 pages- I'm a slow reader), I couldn't help but think to myself "This is my Bible."


"To recognize one's own insanity is, of course, the arising of sanity, the beginning of healing and transendence."


I just love it when two souls meet and connect.

Spiritual brokenness

Today, as many of you know, is Easter Sunday and my family and I went to church.  The last time I went to a church service was back at the end of November when I was visiting home.  My aunt was visiting as well and she is very religious (as are my parents).  I wasn't planning on going to church at all and I had no desire to go.  However, my parents demanded I go because my aunt was there. So feeling stuck between a rock and a hard place I went. It's kind of pathetic- here I was a 30 years old grown woman and still people pleasing and ordered around. I felt obligated and I hate this feeling. In my opinion nobody should be/feel obligated to do anything they don't want to.  (Now..if only I listen to what I believe).

So here I am again on Easter Sunday and  I went to church. I swear every time I go to church, I feel as though I'm there for eternity.  I didn't pay attention much to what was being said...honestly, I never really ever did/do.  It's so hard for me to focus on stories I have heard a million times, year after year growing up.  Jesus was crucified, he died on the cross bla bla bla.  Even though I was selectively hearing things, I swear the priest said something about mother death turning into sister death. What the fuck does all of this mean?? How do I really know this all happened?  How does anybody know this happened??  It's been over 2000 years ago. How is learning about something that happened over 2000 years ago going to make me a better person today?

So, even though mass was only an hour long, by the time we got out I felt like I aged at least 5 years.
As you can probably tell, I don't enjoy church whatsoever. I don't like the concept of religion or spiritual practices. I don't like the idea of getting all dressed up just to impress. As I look around I see nothing but people judging one another. Plus didn't Jesus help the poor? What poor would show up to Jesus dressed to the T? None of them would- they were poor! I really don't think Jesus really cares how fancy you dress up going to church, poor or not. I believe the act of going to church would be a more important thing. But really, in my opinion, the act of being a good person is the most important thing...not going to some structure that was man made.

 God forbid a child is a child and wants to run around and play in church.  It is so looked down upon. And after church service, I see people sprinting out the door, getting in their fancy cars and not being considerate to one another (making judgements) as they leave the parking lot.
Not to mention- I so dislike the parish my family belongs to.  I find that the main priest there is an insecure bastard. (Sorry God... but he is).  He's one of those types of people who became a priest so people would respect him...just like how some people become cops...just like how some men drive around monster trucks.   Truth be told, I don't respect this priest, nor do I respect any spiritual leader. I don't trust them. (Again, I kind of go into detail as to why in Land of Misfit toys).

Last year during Easter, I was living and taking care of my disabled women. I remember my family calling me and my father asking if I went to church.  My response was "no, I'm doing Jesus' work by taking care of disabled women. I think this is as close I can get to 'going to church' as possible. I think Jesus would be proud." All I heard on the other end of the phone was anger at my response.

Overall, religions just make me sick.
 

 I don't know if I can honestly devote my life believing in this stuff or anything.  I don't know what I can devote my life to anymore because I don't even know what to believe in anymore. This may be why I'm in the labyrinth I am in.  I'm waiting for my sign, I'm waiting to be struck by lightning and see some clarity as to why following specific religions is important. The only clarity I see is that religion is not important.  However, I want to believe in seeing the light within my own soul and not listening to some story of a man that walked the earth thousands and thousands of years ago...or any man that became enlightened thousands of years ago.  Because in my mind's eyes, there are people like him walking this earth today that are being walked all over. I feel so many people are so focused on worshiping Jesus that they fail to see the Jesus' all around.

I think there are many reasons for my distaste of religion and spiritual rituals, especially in the Catholic religion.  The idea of all religions and spiritual rituals scare me.  I just don't understand anything. I know there is the bible and all, but I don't get it. To me reading the Bible is like reading Shakespeare. I am bored.  I don't like reading about stuff written during a time period I am unaware of.  For me, what we learn about Shakespeare is only speculation of what Shakespeare meant to say.  Nobody will ever fully know what he truly meant by what he wrote because he's not around to answer the questions. This reminds me of art. I make art all of the time. People can analyze my art and misinterpret it constantly. Nobody will truly know what I meant, unless I'm personally asked. Maybe it's just me.
Overall, I believe that nobody will really know what the Bible really means.  I mean, how many times has it been translated? How many things have been lost in translation? Have you ever played telephone?


During the 9/11 era, (my freshman year of college) the scandals of molestation within the Catholic church was made public.  This effected me tremendously for I was a devote catholic back then.  It was not too long after this that the movie "The Magdeline Sisters" came out (If you haven't seen it I advise you to watch it).
Shortly after I switched to nursing after my sophomore year, my priest was killed by a nurse. He was known as the Angel of Death- his name was Charles Cullen. 
I remember a time when I was a senior in college and I was still going to church. After this one mass I went to there was a pancake breakfast supported by this church.  While there, this elderly man, around the age of 70/80, who was at the same service I was at sat beside me and began a conversation with me.  When asked about my future plans (as I was graduating just a few months down the road), I told him I wanted to become a massage therapist.  His response to that was "Are you going to give happy endings?" So...here I was, at a church function being asked about giving blow jobs. I don't know if it was a joke or not and I don't care...it was inappropriate and I had enough.  It was this statement that has caused me to fear even pursuing message therapy as a career.


I attempted throughout the years to dip back into Catholicism, but it just didn't sit with me well.  In Catholicism, I was taught  that babies who don't get baptized are sent straight to hell and that we are all sinners. With this, I was made to believe I was never really a good person. How can we be like Jesus? We are told Jesus is the son of God? But aren't we all children of God? It's just so complicated.    I  strived so hard to be perfect, but there is no such thing as perfect.  Jesus wasn't even perfect, but we are made to believe he was (Now mind you, this is the experience I had with the Catholic church I went to. Other people could have experienced different things)


So today, my neighbors came over to visit not too long after we had our Easter dinner. At one point my neighbor asked my mother if she had seen "Philomena," a movie about Magdalene laundries.  As my neighbor was going to explain what the movie was about, my mom became anxious and cut her off.  My mother stated that she knew all about it and then told the story of a relative she had that was a victim of Magdalen laundries. Mind you, I have never heard of the story until now. (I haven't heard many stories to be honest).  My mother stated that as a young girl she visited this relative (an aunts' sister-in law or something) at Magdalene laundries in Galway.  She visited quite a few times and would write this woman letters.   She stated the reason why this relative was placed there was due to the fact that a priest made a pass at her and she threw sand at him. She was there from 18 years old and died there.
Again, I advise you to watch these movies and it will give you a glimpse of what happens among religious institutions. Mind you, it wasn't just run by Catholics, but Protestants as well). Learning about this makes me more sick. All religions are corrupt...and I don't think that is distorted thinking. 


I have a hard time supporting things that I don't find ethical.   I don't find religions or spiritual rituals ethical at all.  I'm a firm believer in walking the walk and not talking the talk.  Anybody can talk, not many people walk.
 I also can't take the experiences I have had or the stories I've heard with a grain of salt. I'm told by some people, that this happens in every religion and that I should accept it.  I've come to conclusion that okay, I will learn to accept it, but just because I accept it does not mean I will partake in it.

Sometimes, I feel as though I should pull a "Cast Away" move and get a volleyball and call him my God.  But the more I think about it, the more I realize I don't need a volleyball, I just need myself,  my soul and mother nature. And overall, I just need to strive to be the best I can be because that's all I can do.If I can continue focusing on having a wise mind, I can't go wrong. (Wise mind is combining emotional thinking with  rational thinking).  I've decided now after writing all of this that having a wise mind is my "religion."   (This is why I like writing my posts- I feel as though I learn a lot through my writing)

Thank you for reading. 

Body Dysmorphic Disorder- Poor Body Image

Yesterday in the body image group we went over body image and the media. It made me absolutely sick.  Every time I go to the body image therapy group, I get intensely triggered. I have yet to experience a therapy session where I don't break down in tears. However, I have to use my distress tolerance skills and keep going to it in order to heal.

 I've suffered with body image distortion as far back as I could remember.  (I don't think I know of anybody who doesn't  suffer from it female and male included).
I could go as far back as 5 years old. (I wish I had saved the pictures of me from way back then, but I have destroyed a lot of them in recent years.  Sadly, it's because  I was ashamed of how I looked and ashamed of the fact that I existed).

I remember sitting in my kindergarten class and the teacher asked me to point out one of the letters of the alphabet on the board.  She picked me on purpose- I wasn't paying attention.  This was a normal thing for me in school because I was always off in a far away world inside my head.  So, I got up, went over to the board and, anxiously, reached up to point out one of the letters, hoping I had picked the right one.  However, as I reached up, some of the other kids started laughing and pointing at me. Little did I know that while lifting my arm, my shirt came up and exposed my protruding belly. (Mind you- I wasn't a big girl by any means)  I remember being so embarrassed and ashamed of it. I've been extremely insecure about my stomach ever since- no lie.    I don't blame the other children for laughing at me- I can't.  They didn't know any better.  But for some reason, the image of looking down and seeing my belly stick out is an image I can't get out of my head.


During this time period as a young child, my mother never allowed me to have long hair. So I always had a boy cut hairstyle and with it, of course, I looked like a boy.  People would come up to my mom and say "oh two boys and 1 girl" before my younger sister was born. And of course when my sister was born it would be "oh two boys and two girls..how lovely'.  No....not lovely.  I was a girl god damn it.  I hated my mother for this. (I have since forgiven her). I just wanted long hair because in my mind long hair meant beauty. Any time my babysitters came over, they'd tell me my hair wasn't long enough to do braids as they'd braid my older sister's long locks.

One time when I went to the hair dressers, my mom had to use the bathroom as I was being called to the chair. I was left alone with the hairdresser for just a few minutes.  "Thank God," I thought.  When the hairdresser asked me what I wanted done, I told her "I didn't want it cut. I wanted long hair."  But sure enough, my mother came back and said "trim it 2 inches."  I was devastated. I tried to hold back the tears as the little bit of the "long" hair I had fell to the floor. I wasn't able to hold back the tears for too long and the tears streamed down my face. 

I remember the time my parents couldn't afford for me to get a haircut. So my father took it upon himself to be the hairdresser.  Worst mistake EVER!  So in order to make the perfect cut, my father took masking tape and wrapped it around my hair, including my bangs.  So after he strategically placed the tape around my head...he took the scissors and cut under the masking tape. As soon as he was done cutting, he then attempted to pull the masking tape away from my hair. I was in total agony.  So...he then cut above the masking tape. Worst haircut ever! I'm surprised I had any hair left after that cut. (Again..I wish I had pictures to prove.  And maybe this is where the comment of "ugly hair" from my Identity theft crisis post came from. If this is the case, I can't blame the judge then for making a comment like that).

Somewhere around the age of 9 or so, I became very insecure and ashamed of myself because of a birthmark near my left hip. I was so self conscious about it to the point that anytime I was passing people, I'd make sure my hand was covering it up. 

When I was about 11 years old, my neighbor, the devil  (who I've mentioned in a previous post- Happy Re-birth-day) told my parents I was looking extremely anorexic and emaciated. I swear this woman possessed my parents.  My mother then began putting me on ensure while my father for numerous years would make comments such as "are you eating air again?" Meanwhile, my siblings were being siblings and calling me fat.

I think by the time I was 14, I developed some sort of eating disorder due to this. Although I was never hospitalized, as you can see from the bones protruding out in the picture below, I wasn't that healthy looking...and yet..I still believed I was fat and hideous.  The dress was practically falling off of me.

It was also around this age where I became so concerned of having wrinkles and grey hair. I'd spend countless hours weekly examining my forehead making sure I didn't have any wrinkles; examining my hair to make sure there were no grey hairs.  I'm telling you...pure sickness.


Fast forward to when I was 18.  This was the first year I wore a bikini and I remember how uncomfortable I felt wearing one. I'd wrap a towel around my waist to protect my stomach from being exposed in most of my pictures.

And whenever my stomach was exposed in pictures such as the one below, my eyes would go straight to the stomach.  I'd waste time nitpicking and I couldn't help but think- "my God I'm so fat.  Look how pudgy I look."  I'd then notice the girls stomachs to the right and ask myself or God...."why can't I have her stomach?"   Pure sickness..I know :(
. 

 It wasn't until 2 years ago, almost 11 years after this picture above was taken, where I finally felt more comfortable wearing a bikini. I was the fittest I've ever been in my life. (I was riding my bike between 40-100 miles a week during the spring and summer months to get to and from my jobs in Chicago).  I was constantly exercising.  Sometimes, I would only eat one meal a day.  But even though I felt confident while taking the photo, I'd reexamine it after it was taken and be disgusted.  I'd think to myself "I'm not toned enough. My thighs look big...they should be skinnier. Why am I so ugly. Why can't I have bigger boobs? If only I had a different face, a different body."

Now of course, I wish I had the body from 2 years ago (I'd even be happy with the one I had from when I was 18).  I'm embarrassed of the body I have now.  Oh how the sick cycle never ends...and it is this that upsets me the most.  I still have yet to see a picture of myself where I am not critical; where I can say something positive like I'm pretty and move on with life.  Rather than hate the way I look now, nitpick everything I need to change and in a few years look back and say I was so pretty back then. I want to be pretty/feel pretty in the present moment.
I also have yet to experience a moment where after a breakup, I don't think...well if I was prettier (or smarter), they'd still be with me. 
 I need major therapy..I guess it's good I'm in this program.


I know I began this blog talking about body image and the media and want to go over the information given to us in regards to this and how sick cultural ideals are.  It's these cultural ideals that shape the way we think and how we should look.  Throughout history, women's bodies have been "molded" to fit the ideal at the time.  However, we were reminded in this session (as well as all of the other sessions) that it is up to us to not buy into these cultural ideals.  It' is up to us to accept our bodies as they are.

 Take a look below at the timeline of what was classified as beauty during the different decades.  (It's no wonder why there are so many women with body image issues).

In 1800's A large body was a sign of health and fertility.  At the same time, however, corsets narrowed the waist and enhanced the bust.
(Isn't large body suppose to mean large all around?)

1890's- Actress Lillian Russell at 200 lbs is the most celebrated beauty of all time.

 1910's- Paris designer creates slim sheath dresses, declares that breasts are "out."



1920's- Era of the flat-chested, slim-hipped flapper. First dieting craze of the 20th century

1950's/1960's- Voluptuous full figured shapes like Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield are popular.

(I like how they consider large breast full figured.  To me full figured means having some meat on the bones and in the gut. And although Marlyn and Jayne had plenty of meat where there upper ribs are (known as breasts), they did not have meat when it came to their waist. 
It is said that Marilyn was a size 12.  However, sizes back in the 50's and 60's are not equivalent to the sizes of today.   Marlyn's measurements  were in fact, 5 ft. 5.5 inches tall; 35 inch bust; 22 inch waist; and 35 inch hips, with a bra size of 36D. Plus she was said to have weighed around 118 pounds....that is on the cusp of underweight/lower spectrum of normal weight.  Maybe it's just my opinion, but to me that is not full figured.  That's just called having boobs and having wide hip bones).



1967- British model Twiggy arrives on the scene and the diet industry explodes.   At 5'6''- she was 112 pounds.  (I have no words...other than drugs make people really skinny).

1970's and 1980's- Models gradually become taller, thinner and begin to show toned muscle definition-Breasts make a comeback

 Early 1990's- Waif-like figure Kate Moss presents a wasted "heroin chic" look and a pre-teen body.

Late 1990's- Tall, very thin models with no visible body fat and muscles highly toned by hours of working out. Large breasts remain in style- but are rare in this body type without help of breast implants.

2000 and beyond- It is stated in this timeline that "real bodies come in all shapes and sizes. Set your own trend."
(However, I feel as though real bodies are being transformed into plastic bodies with all the plastic surgery that is all around.  From tummy tucks to breast implants to lip fillers, to botox.  I don't know if body image distortion is really improving among our society.   I think there is a heavy use of makeup as well. I can't wait for the day, where we don't have to wear makeup everyday or feel the need to do so. The one thing I enjoyed living up on the mountain was not feeling pressured to wear makeup.  I felt pure, I felt natural without it and my skin was clear).


So overall, in class we were encouraged to set our own trend.  I'm grateful for Dove's stand on accepting yourself as you are.  I love how their commercials are of "normal" women and not overpaid celebrities.  Why can't more companies be more like this?
I also learned in class, not to blame everything on men.  A lot has to do with women in many ways...one of them being that it is us, the women, who buy into this crap.

Due to the overuse of airbrushing and photoshopping being done, I refuse to look at magazines, let alone buy them.  This was a very difficult transition as I use to waste time analyzing all the beautiful bodies and obsessively wish I had the kind of beautiful bodies I saw on each magazine page.  

 
 I'm grateful we are exposed with some truth behind the illusions created by the media.

Thank you for reading!

The Healing Power of Art Therapy

Earlier today, I was experiencing intense triggers.  My emotional mind was in full blown gear and I was in the red zone. What triggered me most today was a visit I had from a case manager prior to going to my program.  She was asking me questions in regards to my future plans and I just burst into tears. My anxiety increased and I was about to have a full blown panic attack all because of a simple question that I couldn't answer.  My failures, my suicidal ideation increased, my questions of why I am alive all flashed before my eyes.  Because of this, I had to tell the case worker that I couldn't answer the question and that I needed to stop.  She respected my decision and we scheduled for another visit to answer the questions.  I then went into the  kitchen and grabbed some ice from the freezer, held it in my hand while using some breathing techniques. I became grounded. (Thank you DBT skills).

Although I was cool, calm and collected when I arrived to program, I was triggered again when we were discussing being non judgmental.  For some reason, I just couldn't grasp the concept of being non-judgmental and I couldn't understand why.  I couldn't help but think the following racing thoughts:  "Why am I so stupid that I can't understand what non- judgmental means/ how is it humanly possible to be non-judgmental?  I judge myself 24/7; I don't know how to live being non-judgmental...this is my life- this is who I am, I am a failure. I am so stupid.  Why can't I just think normal thoughts?  Why can't I be normal?" 

So as you can see, my emotional and distorted mind took control of the wheel and was spinning out of control. I wanted to run; I wanted to escape from the room, but I couldn't.  The whole purpose of me being there was to learn the DBT skills and use them in a time of crisis, which I was experiencing.  These skills taught in DBT are to help keep me from being impulsive and from doing my normal behaviors...such as running away and having racing thoughts, or worse- suicidal ideation.  So to help ground myself and regain composure, I sat, I counted my breaths, I did finger breathing, I observed objects, and did progressive muscle relaxation technique. I did these skills over and over again.

When the class was finally ending and the facilitator asked if there were any questions, I raised my hand.  In  my tearful, shaky voice I asked what if the homework is too triggering?  The facilitator responded in a kind manner, stating that "if you find it too triggering, just don't do it and talk about it tomorrow in therapy class." She also commented on how proud she was of me for sticking through and for using the skills.  Class was then dismissed, but I still felt triggered.
 
Although early afternoon art therapy class is strictly for the part time program participants, I asked the therapist if I could be in the class.  I told her I was too triggered to go to any of the other classes offered (Trauma Ed and Food and Wellness) and needed to use art as a distraction skill and that I needed ice. She kindly allowed me to participate and brought me ice.   While sitting, another participant entered the room and stated how happy she was to see me. (Originally I was placed in the track she was in, but was moved to the DBT track and because of this, I didn't see many of the people from the previous track).  I got up and asked her for a hug, which she embraced me with.  While holding her close to me, she whispered in my ear to "imagine yourself surrounded by blue light. In the Native American tradition, The blue light means protection."   After the hug we sat down and she told me me how the lunar eclipse and full moon has made everyone crazy and that I wasn't alone.  I found her words and wisdom to be so inspiring and powerful as well as so comforting.   I felt the connection with her and with what she was saying.  (She's a very holistic, naturalistic type of person that I admire and aspire to be).  The beautiful sweet words she spoke truly helped me out of the darkness I was experiencing.  They also helped with reminding me to embrace the knowledge I have learned from studying Reiki and use it.  (I obviously haven't used my Reiki skills in quite some time).  

Our art therapy session then started.  The quote we were given was so appropriate for what I had just experienced.   "Dare to reach out your hand into darkness to pull another hand into the light; you may find yourself" (Rice). When asked for our opinions about the quote, I stated that I didn't think the quote was complete and that more should have been added.  My addition to the quote would be "and you may help others find themselves."  So, with my rendition, the quote would read: "Dare to reach out your hand into darkness to pull another hand into the light; you may find yourself and you may help others find themselves."

 I wanted to add that addition because with the small act of kindness from my therapist and from the other participant, I found a glimpse of my inner self.



So below is the artwork I did pertaining to this quote.

Because it takes a lot of strength to reach into darkness to help another, I made the figure to the right out of muscle to represent this.  For some people, like myself,  darkness represents their skeletons in the closet.  It takes a lot of strength to allow the skeletons out and give them life, which is why I represented the figure on the left as a skeleton caught in the debris of other skeletal parts.

Since the other participant told me to envision blue light around me- I created the blue aura.  At first I was just going to put it around the muscle man and a tiny bit around the arms of the skeleton to represent the hand going into the light.  But then...I went a little chalk happy and surrounded both figures with the blue.  As I was smudging the chalk, I decided to make the aura into a heart shape because it takes great compassion and love to be able to reach into darkness (whether it be your own darkness or that of someone else).  I added the white then to represent an outer aura of light.
Making this work of art helped alleviate all that I was experiencing earlier on.  I was definitely grounded and I felt at peace.


The art therapist allowed me to also attend the afternoon class, which I was so grateful for.  Normally,  taking two art classes in a day is not allowed.  But, due to the circumstances of the day, I was given approval.  And the quote for this class was by Harrison Ford: "We all have changes in our lives that are more or less second chances."

When asked about our opinions of this quote, one of the other participants stated that she didn't like it because she didn't see how the changes caused by death produced second chances.  Other participants added their views on how they liked the quote.  I didn't know what to make of it, so I listened in on everybody else's comments.  We were then to create art based on our interpretation of this quote.

While pondering what to make, I looked around the room at the beautiful women that surrounded the table- each of them with their own story, their own struggles.  I admire them.  I admire us all.  We are here for the purpose of changing so that we could live better lives.

Overall, we cared and supported each other.  This one participant in particular, created ribbons for Semicolon project day.




With this,  I realized that her second chance was to spread awareness to others about mental illness. I then realized that we were all spreading awareness to others about mental illness in our own ways.   I then became enlightened and made the following work of art:

 I had two meanings going on with this piece-

I wanted this drawing to represent the fact that I see each of us as earth angels. We are the sensitive few with big hearts that spread so much love and compassion to others.  So much so that we had neglected ourselves in the process. But since we are here bettering ourselves, we are learning how to protect ourselves so we can further spread our love and compassion without getting our wings broken.

The other meaning behind this work involves the comment the other participant made. It was in regards to death and how I believe we become angels after we pass to help protect those still living (possibly a distorted thought)
 
I was able to express the following to the group
 "I realized today by making this drawing, that I fantasize about death so much because I want to help people so much. I feel as though I can help people more when I'm dead and in angel form than when I'm alive and in human form."

( I understand for some people that this does not make sense whatsoever, but I think I realized why I may think this. It could just be a distorted thought because to me, I have a hard time coping with death and I want to believe in angels.  I want to believe that when we pass we become angels to protect others in ways we couldn't do in human form. I want to believe this because otherwise, I can't handle death of others and I need to believe our spirits move on to protect and watch over others. In a strange way, I want there to be purpose for death).

 After expressing this to my fellow earth angels, I was told that I help so many people here with my presence.  The one participant who did the ribbons for semicolon day mentioned that I help lift her spirits every day by saying "good morning beautiful," by giving my hugs, and by the artwork I do. She reminded me that if I were to be in angel spirit, I wouldn't be able to achieve what's helped her.

My art therapist added that I do give a lot more than I give myself credit for.  She mentioned how writing my blog is helping more people than that I'm aware of.

I just hope that's what I do.  I want to help others, I don't like seeing people suffer. I want to be able to reach into darkness and pull another hand into the light; I want to find myself in this process and assist others with finding themselves.

Thank you for reading.