Tag: @finch

The Dark Days Are Over…

Let the terror begin.

Okay, melodramatic, I know.

Good news; I got a job. The fear of never being wanted or hire-able or useful for the rest of my life is waning. That doesn’t mean I won’t get fired again, or I won’t stick my foot in my mouth. I’d like to believe I have learned the lessons of my past.

Now my brain is tripping over the fear that I’ve forgotten how to draw blood. That I’m not going to be effective with old veins and get the blood I need to get. There are so many aspects of this that is driving me crazy, but if they are being truthful about the money, it should out weigh all the items on their phlebotomist to do list. I’m just panicking, like always.

I saw the new shrink. I was at the office for three hours, not all talking to someone, but he put me on a new anti-anxiety that’s supposed to help me sleep, and it does. Until 3:00am and then I’m wide awake again. I need to get up and do something, but alas. I don’t. I just put my story back on and lull myself into a light sleep I don’t want to wake up from. I’ve also moved my Wellbutrin from 200mg first thing in the morning to 100mg at morning and one at night. I’m not waking up with the absolute dread of the day and the long discussion and bargaining of “you just have to get out of bed and that’s it” conversations have stopped. I’ve noticed I’m ‘feeling’ more, which I haven’t decided if it’s a good or a bad thing.

I think Finch (@finch) is helping with that as well. I never had a digital pet before, I remember wanting one but they were too expensive. ($20). So, I’m going to stick with the program until I hit a wall. Hopefully it happens on a weekend so it won’t interfere with my new job. One of the things I talked to the doctor about was going back into therapy. I just need to sharpen a few tools, I think. But I can’t afford Ellen’s rates on unemployment. I should be able to afford her now. I hate the idea of having to break in and train a new therapist.

As If & I Don’t Care

I was meandering through a journal entry yesterday. (Meandering is like a mash-up of free writing about a specific subject and stream-of-consciousness writing.) I wrote something that was both new and not new to me but I recognize it as my new norm. I was discussing the efficacy and practice of a mantra for love and worthiness.

I have come to the decision it doesn’t matter what I thing/feel/see when it come to my worth and, well, me. I am acting as if:

  • I’m worthy
  • I’m of value
  • I am talented
  • I am loveable
  • I am loved
  • I am sane

I wish I could act as if I was a size six but that would make me delusional. And I don’t want anti-delusional meds, so I won’t go there. 🙂 Or maybe instead of “As If” it’s more “I Don’t Care.” I don’t care what the evil pixie thinks of me, says to me or tries to trip me back into the darkness. I don’t care because I control my life. Yes, some days the pixie adds weight/dumbbells to my emotional baggage I carry around but I get through and continue to go towards my goals. I lament my speed and compare it to the speed I should/could be going if I wasn’t bogged down by the dead weight of my emotional dysfunction. I will continue to move forward one bag at a time, one inch at a time, one breath at a time.

Journal Entry from 06/06/26*

I keep waiting for ‘sanity’ to rise up and save me, I realize. Sanity isn’t a white knight to rush in an sweep me into the world of normalcy, like it’s a fairytale castle. I am the princess and the dragon in my own fable, I know that. I have the tools I amassed through therapy, and perhaps my shed could be larger for storage of the excess baggage I carry, but even with the baggage, I am not without the ability to tilt at my own monsters. When I get tired, and my guard is down, the pixie uses the shadows in my brain to creep up and discourage me. “As if” adds light to those times, but it still feels like I’m still giving the darkness power. “I don’t care” feels like the ball is in my court and though I might foul or make the basket, it is in my hands not in something else’s.

I have bee using a self-care app called Finch. It’s like Tomagachi (electronic pet from the 00’s) got it’s MFT in CBT. I’ve not been doing it long, Tuesday will be two weeks, but it’s simple. It allows me to track my mood and name my emotions when I need it and I can look back over weeks and see my progress. I’ve only told two people I’m doing it so I don’t have a lot (or any) friends on the app. Which is fine. My Finch’s name is Harlow. At night, just before I put my head down I do three minutes of breathing designed to help with sleep, and it does. I get up with a plan and I follow through because I want to mark everything off that list. But it is something you do every/other day/week/month kind of thing. I like it right now, so if you’re looking for something to help you track and prove you are just getting through some days, there is an app for that. If you join, please be my friend: 7Q9WR39BGK.

* My journal entries tend to jump from one thought to the next without grace, so please forgive if the quote seems a little jittery. I could have corrected it but that would defeat the purpose of quoting the journal.