Before I started therapy I had no idea what was going on inside my mind. Then I went to therapy, and I came home with packets of information related to my then diagnosis. Even between therapy appointments, the therapist had me doing research to try to fill in the other pieces of the puzzle. That only filled in a few of my puzzle pieces. These things were helpful, but since I wasn't getting information about OCD, I still was pretty clueless. My other therapist also didn't discuss any of the biological causes for anything that I was dealing with, so I was still sort of thinking that the obsessions and the anxiety were my fault...maybe even some sort of divine punishment for some sin or wrong I had done without realizing it.
Fast forward to my new therapist. She gives me a lot of information specific to OCD and my anxiety and the biology behind some of my symptoms. An example: I have a lot of anxiety first thing in the morning. I had chalked this up to the fact that I was a bad person, and I had managed to do something awful, possibly in my sleep. My therapist explained that this wasn't the case. She told me that a lot of people have anxiety first thing in the morning because our body releases cortisol to get us up and going, and that sometimes, too much cortisol can be experienced as anxiety.
That little bit of information changed the way I look at my mornings completely. My anxiety wasn't caused by divine punishment or anything like that. My anxiety was just a reaction to too much cortisol first thing in the morning. So, I wasn't sad and hopeless anymore when I woke up to anxiety. I was able to take a step back and say to myself that everything was fine because this was a normal biological process involving too much cortisol. My mornings, and even my days, started to get a whole lot better, just from the little bit of information from my therapist.
Another example: I had a couple of bad days. I felt it had to be my fault, that I was somehow not doing something right to keep my OCD and anxiety managed. My therapist then explained the Recovery Spiral. Recovery from mental illness doesn't travel upward to wellness in a nice straight line. Recovery goes in a spiral toward wellness. That means that sometimes, symptoms will reappear, even if you've been doing great. That doesn't mean you're back at the bottom or beginning again. That just means you hit a place in your recovery spiral in which your symptoms have come back.
Even that little bit of psychological information helped me to better understand what was going on. That changed the way I thought about the incident and that changed the way I can react to it now. I can realize that it isn't just me making mistakes in my recovery. That's just the way recovery goes for everyone.
Information is always important, but it is extremely important when you're dealing with any sort of health condition. Information changes the way that people think, and by changing the way someone thinks about something, you change the way they react to it.
I'll end with this: If you're seeing a therapist, and they aren't giving you the information you need, ask them questions, or at least ask them how you can find the information you need on your own. If you have questions about why you're having any kind of symptoms or anything like that, it's okay to ask. If you're therapist can't answer that very moment, they are more than willing to do research to get you answers that you need.
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Another Tough Decision
So, you've already made the tough decision to actually seek treatment for your mental health condition. You've already gotten a diagnosis and a treatment plan, and maybe you've been in therapy for a bit. This is where I ran into a problem with my recovery. I was going to therapy every 3 weeks, and in the time between those appointments, I was really struggling. I was dealing with all of my intrusive thoughts and the rumination, and my anxiety was holding just below the point that tips me over the edge into a panic attack because as new things came up, I wasn't getting the help I needed to work through them.
I had been in therapy for just over 3 months. My therapist and I had a great therapeutic relationship. I liked her. I trusted her. The only problem was that I was getting worse because of the time between my appointments. That was no one's fault. It was just the state of the community mental health system. My therapist was so busy that she didn't have time to see me as much as I needed to get better.
This problem meant that I had to make another tough decision. I had to decide whether or not to find a different therapist that could see me every week. (To treat OCD, it's recommended that I attend therapy once a week for at least 6 months, possibly up to 12 months.) I didn't want to find another therapist. In fact, the whole idea of letting yet another stranger into the deepest, darkest parts of my mind caused me more anxiety.
I was afraid to find another therapist for other reasons, too. I was afraid that maybe the new therapist wouldn't really understand me or that this one might think I was crazy. I was afraid that I would be a nuisance to a private therapist. I was afraid that the change would make my anxiety worse, and that the new therapist would really push medication. I had all kinds of fears that I ended up not having to worry about.
At the urging of my mother and the advice of my therapist, I made the decision to look for another therapist. That was a process. I looked online, in mental health directories and Google, and I only found 3 therapists, 2 of them located a couple of counties over, and 1 in a different state that specified that they could treat OCD. They were private therapists that may or may not take my insurance. Those options didn't look like great options. Other than that, the only options I knew about were the other community mental health organizations in my county.
Then a friend of mine recommended a private therapist that wasn't listed in the online directory I had searched. I had another option. I Googled the therapist and checked her reviews. Then I actually had to call to see if she could even treat my condition. Then I had to see if she took my insurance. Then I had to see if she was taking new patients and how long it would be before I could get an appointment. I tried to contact her a few times before I heard back.
The next step in this process was to make an appointment with the therapist I started with. I had to see her to get her to sign a release so that my new therapist could call her and get my file. Then I was no longer considered a client of the community mental health system.
I changed my therapist because I needed to have more frequent therapy appointments, but other people may need to find a new therapist for various reasons. They may not be a good fit as far as personality, so a therapeutic relationship may not work out. Maybe the therapist doesn't know how to adequately treat a disorder, and the patient notices that they aren't getting the help they need. Maybe the therapist just makes the patient uncomfortable for some reason. The list could go on.
I'll end with this: If you don't mesh well with your therapist, if something about them makes you uncomfortable, or if you feel like you aren't getting the help you need, it's perfectly acceptable to ask for or seek a new therapist. You have a right to adequate mental health care.
I had been in therapy for just over 3 months. My therapist and I had a great therapeutic relationship. I liked her. I trusted her. The only problem was that I was getting worse because of the time between my appointments. That was no one's fault. It was just the state of the community mental health system. My therapist was so busy that she didn't have time to see me as much as I needed to get better.
This problem meant that I had to make another tough decision. I had to decide whether or not to find a different therapist that could see me every week. (To treat OCD, it's recommended that I attend therapy once a week for at least 6 months, possibly up to 12 months.) I didn't want to find another therapist. In fact, the whole idea of letting yet another stranger into the deepest, darkest parts of my mind caused me more anxiety.
I was afraid to find another therapist for other reasons, too. I was afraid that maybe the new therapist wouldn't really understand me or that this one might think I was crazy. I was afraid that I would be a nuisance to a private therapist. I was afraid that the change would make my anxiety worse, and that the new therapist would really push medication. I had all kinds of fears that I ended up not having to worry about.
At the urging of my mother and the advice of my therapist, I made the decision to look for another therapist. That was a process. I looked online, in mental health directories and Google, and I only found 3 therapists, 2 of them located a couple of counties over, and 1 in a different state that specified that they could treat OCD. They were private therapists that may or may not take my insurance. Those options didn't look like great options. Other than that, the only options I knew about were the other community mental health organizations in my county.
Then a friend of mine recommended a private therapist that wasn't listed in the online directory I had searched. I had another option. I Googled the therapist and checked her reviews. Then I actually had to call to see if she could even treat my condition. Then I had to see if she took my insurance. Then I had to see if she was taking new patients and how long it would be before I could get an appointment. I tried to contact her a few times before I heard back.
The next step in this process was to make an appointment with the therapist I started with. I had to see her to get her to sign a release so that my new therapist could call her and get my file. Then I was no longer considered a client of the community mental health system.
I changed my therapist because I needed to have more frequent therapy appointments, but other people may need to find a new therapist for various reasons. They may not be a good fit as far as personality, so a therapeutic relationship may not work out. Maybe the therapist doesn't know how to adequately treat a disorder, and the patient notices that they aren't getting the help they need. Maybe the therapist just makes the patient uncomfortable for some reason. The list could go on.
I'll end with this: If you don't mesh well with your therapist, if something about them makes you uncomfortable, or if you feel like you aren't getting the help you need, it's perfectly acceptable to ask for or seek a new therapist. You have a right to adequate mental health care.
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Triggered
I've experienced a few triggering events over the end of last week and the beginning of this week. I've experienced triggering things before, but a couple of these events were different because the events that stand out were intentional. I've never had to deal with someone, or in this case, a couple of people intentionally triggering the intrusive thoughts then the anxiety and guilt that accompanies those thoughts.
In the first case I was talking about some of the things I had been working through in therapy. Jokes were made about it, and the person laughed. In the second case, I was teased about the anxiety I felt about ordering food over the phone, and then encouraged to give in to my OCD and call to check that they had taken my order down correctly. The result of both of these incidents was that I was lost in an OCD spiral of rumination, anxiety, guilt, and tears for four days. (The triggering events occurred within 48 hours, and they sort of built on each other.)
For both of these triggering events I responded the same way. I asked the person to stop. I told them they were messing with my anxiety. Neither of them stopped whatever they were doing that was triggering for me. Both of the people that triggered me just sort of laughed it off and then continued the jokes and teasing.
I sometimes read posts on Tumblr tagged under mental health, specifically those tagged under anxiety and OCD. These posts cover everything from daily struggles, symptoms, poetry, rants, educational topics like comorbid conditions, and then quite a few posts also talked about friends and other people triggering the poster's anxiety and intrusive thoughts and compulsive behavior. I always wondered how someone's friends could intentionally trigger another friend's horrible intrusive thoughts and compulsive behavior.
This pointed to a problem that I hadn't been very aware of up to this point. A lot of people still don't take mental health conditions seriously. Neither person took me seriously when I told them they were messing with my anxiety until the tears started to flow. I shouldn't have had to cry and get so anxious that I felt a panic attack looming for someone to believe that I was having trouble as a result of a diagnosed condition.
I've seen things popping up on my Facebook occasionally mentioning invisible illnesses and the idea that other people that don't suffer from them really don't take those types of conditions as seriously as other illnesses, and I've seen things like this on Pinterest mental health advocacy boards. I just never had any experience with this sort of thing.
I'll end with this: Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (and any other mental health condition) might not be an illness that you can see written all over someone's body or face, but that doesn't mean they aren't serious conditions. It isn't funny to treat these conditions like silly quirks or funny personality characteristics that you can make jokes out of. If you know someone dealing with a mental health condition the best thing you can do is believe them and take their condition seriously.
In the first case I was talking about some of the things I had been working through in therapy. Jokes were made about it, and the person laughed. In the second case, I was teased about the anxiety I felt about ordering food over the phone, and then encouraged to give in to my OCD and call to check that they had taken my order down correctly. The result of both of these incidents was that I was lost in an OCD spiral of rumination, anxiety, guilt, and tears for four days. (The triggering events occurred within 48 hours, and they sort of built on each other.)
For both of these triggering events I responded the same way. I asked the person to stop. I told them they were messing with my anxiety. Neither of them stopped whatever they were doing that was triggering for me. Both of the people that triggered me just sort of laughed it off and then continued the jokes and teasing.
I sometimes read posts on Tumblr tagged under mental health, specifically those tagged under anxiety and OCD. These posts cover everything from daily struggles, symptoms, poetry, rants, educational topics like comorbid conditions, and then quite a few posts also talked about friends and other people triggering the poster's anxiety and intrusive thoughts and compulsive behavior. I always wondered how someone's friends could intentionally trigger another friend's horrible intrusive thoughts and compulsive behavior.
This pointed to a problem that I hadn't been very aware of up to this point. A lot of people still don't take mental health conditions seriously. Neither person took me seriously when I told them they were messing with my anxiety until the tears started to flow. I shouldn't have had to cry and get so anxious that I felt a panic attack looming for someone to believe that I was having trouble as a result of a diagnosed condition.
I've seen things popping up on my Facebook occasionally mentioning invisible illnesses and the idea that other people that don't suffer from them really don't take those types of conditions as seriously as other illnesses, and I've seen things like this on Pinterest mental health advocacy boards. I just never had any experience with this sort of thing.
I'll end with this: Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (and any other mental health condition) might not be an illness that you can see written all over someone's body or face, but that doesn't mean they aren't serious conditions. It isn't funny to treat these conditions like silly quirks or funny personality characteristics that you can make jokes out of. If you know someone dealing with a mental health condition the best thing you can do is believe them and take their condition seriously.
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Permission to Chill
I've always been one of those people that was "on" constantly. I never took breaks from anything that I was working on whether it was stuff for school, writing, or any other goal that I could come up with to reach. I even pushed myself with my first novel, and I finished it in 4 months and 12 days. I felt lazy and then guilty for not pushing myself to constantly work on something if I tried to take a break. (I thought people that wanted to accomplish things couldn't take breaks.)
I lived my life this way even after my issues with OCD started when I was nineteen. By then, staying busy was the way I coped. If I was busy doing homework or working on a novel, then I didn't have to think about the intrusive thoughts, and that also meant I was distracted from my anxiety. It worked pretty well over the years until I would go on breaks and run out of things to do. Then I just hoped and prayed that no one noticed that I was crazy, evil, or possessed or I lied about the cause of my anxiety and social withdrawal.
I tried to continue staying busy and pushing myself even after my recurrence of severe symptoms in July. I went to the Emergency Department for a panic attack one day, and the next day, still loopy on Ativan, I attempted to get back to work planning my second novel. I refused to take any time to sort my mind out because not doing something made me feel lazy.
Over time it got harder and harder to concentrate on my work. I couldn't settle on an idea to turn into a book. I'd pick something, and then I'd change it a few weeks later because working on it made my anxiety level rise. I had 2 single novels, a trilogy, and the beginning of a series planned out, and I couldn't concentrate enough to work on any of them. Not to mention the fact that most days I was so exhausted that all I wanted to do was curl up somewhere and take a nap. It was taking way more of my energy to fight off anxiety than I was willing to admit. (I never knew how exhausting mental illness was until this summer.)
Then my therapists (my first therapist and the new private therapist that I currently work with) told me that I push myself too hard. The therapist told me that she sees that I push myself to accomplish twice as much as everyone else, and that I was pushing myself to make leaps and bounds when I should have just been glad I could take baby steps. Here's the problem with that: pushing myself to be as normal as possible and still as "on" as I had been before this recent upheaval was causing me more anxiety because I was failing at achieving what I thought I should be achieving every day. Here's the other problem with pushing myself as hard as I used to: my mind needs time to rest just as much as my body needs to rest, and when I don't take time to rest mentally, just like if I don't rest physically, symptoms get worse.
To make me see the error of my ways my therapist likes to ask me, "If you were counseling someone, would you expect from them what you're expecting from yourself?" My answer is always, "Of course not!" So, one of my New Year's resolutions was to focus more on actually getting well. To do that, I realize now (after months and months), that I actually need to chill out a little bit so my mind can catch a break. I don't have to be so "on" all the time. Sure, I might not write another book in four months, but that doesn't mean I won't ever accomplish anything.
In 2016, to get well, I'm giving myself permission to chill. I'm working on slowing down a bit. I keep reminding myself that just because I'm taking things a little more slowly these days doesn't mean that I'm lazy. It means I'm taking care of my mental health just like I take care of my physical health.
I'm also trying not to put as much pressure on myself. I'm still planning a lot of the bits and pieces for the second novel that I have yet to actually start and focus on, but I'm not forcing myself to plan the whole thing in a day. I'm also not forcing myself to be as close as I can possibly be to perfect anymore. I'm realizing that doesn't work whether you have mental illness or not. So, I'm trying to relax my standards I set for myself because it's okay to not be okay some days. It's not humanly possible to be okay every single day.
2016 is a whole new year, and I'm doing things I've never let myself do before. I'm actually picking shows that I like and watching them on Netflix or on TV instead of recording them and only letting myself watch them when I feel like I've accomplished enough that day. I'm taking time out of my day just to color because coloring relaxes me. I'm also taking whole days off from writing just to do something fun like watch some of my favorite movies or just to talk to other people on Facebook, through texts, or occasionally, phone calls. I try to find things that make me laugh because laughter does wonders for my anxiety. (I may or may not narrate my cat's daily life, with dialogue. I also may or may not spend time imagining my life as a romantic comedy with Chris Evans as the leading man.) I've also picked back up on reading before bed instead of just going and going until I tuck myself in at night.
I'll end with this: Life can be exhausting and overwhelming, and it can feel even more exhausting and overwhelming when you're dealing with any kind of upheaval, like mental illness. Stress can exacerbate the symptoms of mental illness. You wouldn't expect someone still recovering from the flu to get up and run three miles every day like they did before the flu, so you shouldn't expect yourself to be able to keep up the same pre-mental illness pace of life all the time. It's okay to have days that all you get accomplished is breathing, eating a meal, and maybe even laughing at your favorite book, movie, TV show, or something funny your pet did. Everyone on Earth could really use a chill out day now and again, and we shouldn't feel guilty about it. No one should ever feel guilty for taking the time out to de-stress and take care of their mental health.
I lived my life this way even after my issues with OCD started when I was nineteen. By then, staying busy was the way I coped. If I was busy doing homework or working on a novel, then I didn't have to think about the intrusive thoughts, and that also meant I was distracted from my anxiety. It worked pretty well over the years until I would go on breaks and run out of things to do. Then I just hoped and prayed that no one noticed that I was crazy, evil, or possessed or I lied about the cause of my anxiety and social withdrawal.
I tried to continue staying busy and pushing myself even after my recurrence of severe symptoms in July. I went to the Emergency Department for a panic attack one day, and the next day, still loopy on Ativan, I attempted to get back to work planning my second novel. I refused to take any time to sort my mind out because not doing something made me feel lazy.
Over time it got harder and harder to concentrate on my work. I couldn't settle on an idea to turn into a book. I'd pick something, and then I'd change it a few weeks later because working on it made my anxiety level rise. I had 2 single novels, a trilogy, and the beginning of a series planned out, and I couldn't concentrate enough to work on any of them. Not to mention the fact that most days I was so exhausted that all I wanted to do was curl up somewhere and take a nap. It was taking way more of my energy to fight off anxiety than I was willing to admit. (I never knew how exhausting mental illness was until this summer.)
Then my therapists (my first therapist and the new private therapist that I currently work with) told me that I push myself too hard. The therapist told me that she sees that I push myself to accomplish twice as much as everyone else, and that I was pushing myself to make leaps and bounds when I should have just been glad I could take baby steps. Here's the problem with that: pushing myself to be as normal as possible and still as "on" as I had been before this recent upheaval was causing me more anxiety because I was failing at achieving what I thought I should be achieving every day. Here's the other problem with pushing myself as hard as I used to: my mind needs time to rest just as much as my body needs to rest, and when I don't take time to rest mentally, just like if I don't rest physically, symptoms get worse.
To make me see the error of my ways my therapist likes to ask me, "If you were counseling someone, would you expect from them what you're expecting from yourself?" My answer is always, "Of course not!" So, one of my New Year's resolutions was to focus more on actually getting well. To do that, I realize now (after months and months), that I actually need to chill out a little bit so my mind can catch a break. I don't have to be so "on" all the time. Sure, I might not write another book in four months, but that doesn't mean I won't ever accomplish anything.
In 2016, to get well, I'm giving myself permission to chill. I'm working on slowing down a bit. I keep reminding myself that just because I'm taking things a little more slowly these days doesn't mean that I'm lazy. It means I'm taking care of my mental health just like I take care of my physical health.
I'm also trying not to put as much pressure on myself. I'm still planning a lot of the bits and pieces for the second novel that I have yet to actually start and focus on, but I'm not forcing myself to plan the whole thing in a day. I'm also not forcing myself to be as close as I can possibly be to perfect anymore. I'm realizing that doesn't work whether you have mental illness or not. So, I'm trying to relax my standards I set for myself because it's okay to not be okay some days. It's not humanly possible to be okay every single day.
2016 is a whole new year, and I'm doing things I've never let myself do before. I'm actually picking shows that I like and watching them on Netflix or on TV instead of recording them and only letting myself watch them when I feel like I've accomplished enough that day. I'm taking time out of my day just to color because coloring relaxes me. I'm also taking whole days off from writing just to do something fun like watch some of my favorite movies or just to talk to other people on Facebook, through texts, or occasionally, phone calls. I try to find things that make me laugh because laughter does wonders for my anxiety. (I may or may not narrate my cat's daily life, with dialogue. I also may or may not spend time imagining my life as a romantic comedy with Chris Evans as the leading man.) I've also picked back up on reading before bed instead of just going and going until I tuck myself in at night.
I'll end with this: Life can be exhausting and overwhelming, and it can feel even more exhausting and overwhelming when you're dealing with any kind of upheaval, like mental illness. Stress can exacerbate the symptoms of mental illness. You wouldn't expect someone still recovering from the flu to get up and run three miles every day like they did before the flu, so you shouldn't expect yourself to be able to keep up the same pre-mental illness pace of life all the time. It's okay to have days that all you get accomplished is breathing, eating a meal, and maybe even laughing at your favorite book, movie, TV show, or something funny your pet did. Everyone on Earth could really use a chill out day now and again, and we shouldn't feel guilty about it. No one should ever feel guilty for taking the time out to de-stress and take care of their mental health.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Mindfulness
I've noticed some things about myself now that I've actually been paying attention these past few months. One thing I've noticed is that I hate feeling negative emotions. The second thing I've learned is that I don't have a very healthy way of dealing with those negative emotions. I pretend that I don't feel them and do my best to push them away. Or, I get lost in in my negative emotions, and then I can only think about how awful it feels or how long the feeling will last.
I needed to find a better way to deal with what my therapist called distress intolerance. My therapist gave me a packet on distress intolerance, and apparently, the key to dealing with negative emotions and improving my distress tolerance is to just accept my negative emotions. This is a grand thing called Mindfulness. It sounds simple, but it's requiring a lot of work on my part. I think it's slowly starting to become easier to practice, though, but it's taking time.
In case any of you out there have the same unhealthy ways of dealing with negative emotions, I thought I might share the Mindfulness technique.
Mindfulness is defined as "a state of being where you are in the present moment, watching whatever you happen to be experiencing at that time, with an attitude of curiosity, and without judging or trying to change your experience," (Nathan and Saulsman, 2012). The process has a few steps:
1. Recognize and allow the emotion to be there. (Like I recognize my anxiety and just let it hang out in my mind.)
2. Observe the emotion-just observe the emotion hanging out in your mind like a third person narrator.
3.Describe the emotion (Like, when I'm anxious I recognize it by the tightness in my chest, my sweaty hands, and racing heart.)
4. Keep a curious and non-judgmental attitude about the emotion- don't label it good or bad. It's just an emotion, and we have all emotions for a reason.
5. Use imagery-This sounds strange, but it has been very helpful when I need to remain detached and observe my emotions. The key is to pick some image that lets you realize that your emotions come and go, and that you can't control very much of that process. The packet gave some examples, like a leaf floating down a stream, or an empty room in which people enter and exit.
*None of these really worked for me, so I imagine my emotions as birds trapped inside a room, flying around, looking for the open door so they can fly back out to freedom.
You may also have to deal with an emotional comeback. That's okay because emotions tend to come in waves. Just repeat the previous steps. (It gets easier over time.)
I had read about Mindfulness before, online in some OCD and Anxiety Disorder forums, but I had no idea what it was or how to practice it, until I received the packet on distress intolerance from my therapist. In the forums it was mentioned that some people treat OCD at home with Mindfulness, which is also something that I've been working on. When intrusive thoughts pop up, I try to just let them be there and I tell myself something like, "These are just thoughts, just random thoughts generated in my brain that mean nothing." I try to realize that the thoughts will come and go whether I want them or not because I can't control them. Then I try not to do any compulsive things, like reassurance seeking. Eventually the thoughts roll out of my mind, and the anxiety goes with them (most of the time).
I'll end with this: Negative emotions aren't good or bad, it's the way we perceive and then react to them that makes them good or bad. It's okay to feel whatever emotion that you feel. Accepting your emotions instead of ignoring them, suppressing them, or engaging in self harm is key to being happy, healthy, and well adjusted. Mindfulness might seem difficult in the beginning, but it gets easier over time.
Sources:
Nathan, P. & Saulsman, L. (2012). Facing Your Feelings: Learning to TolerateDistress. Perth, Western Australia: Centre for Clinical Interventions.
I needed to find a better way to deal with what my therapist called distress intolerance. My therapist gave me a packet on distress intolerance, and apparently, the key to dealing with negative emotions and improving my distress tolerance is to just accept my negative emotions. This is a grand thing called Mindfulness. It sounds simple, but it's requiring a lot of work on my part. I think it's slowly starting to become easier to practice, though, but it's taking time.
In case any of you out there have the same unhealthy ways of dealing with negative emotions, I thought I might share the Mindfulness technique.
Mindfulness is defined as "a state of being where you are in the present moment, watching whatever you happen to be experiencing at that time, with an attitude of curiosity, and without judging or trying to change your experience," (Nathan and Saulsman, 2012). The process has a few steps:
1. Recognize and allow the emotion to be there. (Like I recognize my anxiety and just let it hang out in my mind.)
2. Observe the emotion-just observe the emotion hanging out in your mind like a third person narrator.
3.Describe the emotion (Like, when I'm anxious I recognize it by the tightness in my chest, my sweaty hands, and racing heart.)
4. Keep a curious and non-judgmental attitude about the emotion- don't label it good or bad. It's just an emotion, and we have all emotions for a reason.
5. Use imagery-This sounds strange, but it has been very helpful when I need to remain detached and observe my emotions. The key is to pick some image that lets you realize that your emotions come and go, and that you can't control very much of that process. The packet gave some examples, like a leaf floating down a stream, or an empty room in which people enter and exit.
*None of these really worked for me, so I imagine my emotions as birds trapped inside a room, flying around, looking for the open door so they can fly back out to freedom.
You may also have to deal with an emotional comeback. That's okay because emotions tend to come in waves. Just repeat the previous steps. (It gets easier over time.)
I had read about Mindfulness before, online in some OCD and Anxiety Disorder forums, but I had no idea what it was or how to practice it, until I received the packet on distress intolerance from my therapist. In the forums it was mentioned that some people treat OCD at home with Mindfulness, which is also something that I've been working on. When intrusive thoughts pop up, I try to just let them be there and I tell myself something like, "These are just thoughts, just random thoughts generated in my brain that mean nothing." I try to realize that the thoughts will come and go whether I want them or not because I can't control them. Then I try not to do any compulsive things, like reassurance seeking. Eventually the thoughts roll out of my mind, and the anxiety goes with them (most of the time).
I'll end with this: Negative emotions aren't good or bad, it's the way we perceive and then react to them that makes them good or bad. It's okay to feel whatever emotion that you feel. Accepting your emotions instead of ignoring them, suppressing them, or engaging in self harm is key to being happy, healthy, and well adjusted. Mindfulness might seem difficult in the beginning, but it gets easier over time.
Sources:
Nathan, P. & Saulsman, L. (2012). Facing Your Feelings: Learning to TolerateDistress. Perth, Western Australia: Centre for Clinical Interventions.
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
To Tell or Not to Tell
It's the day before Christmas Eve, and I have something on my mind. By tomorrow, I'll be hanging out with some of my family that I only see once or twice a year and maybe even some of their friends that made the trip home with them. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone. Seeing everyone is the reason I love Christmas. I'm also a little wary of the conversation topics that could be brought up, specifically my mental health. My family is one that doesn't shy away from things like this while we're at the table or hanging out in the living room swapping life updates. Me, on the other hand...I'm a little more private, especially around people that I don't know very well.
This sort of thing happened on Thanksgiving. I was hanging out with some family, one of the cousins I only see once or twice a year, and I was just snacking on deep-fried turkey while the conversation bounced around from tattoos to food to hunting to travel. Then, suddenly my mental health was the topic of conversation, and I was sort of shoved into the spotlight. I got asked about my diagnosis. I got asked about medication and therapy. I even got asked about the kinds of thoughts that cause me anxiety. Then they started to offer suggestions. Yes, they only did it because they love me and they care about my well being, but that didn't make me feel less awkward about it.
I don't mind talking about mental health at all, and I'm glad they cared enough to ask. I just felt awkward in this instance with all the questions that I wasn't prepared to answer. It was also a holiday, and topics like that feel too heavy to me, to just discuss on a holiday, while we were all just hanging out. I went in expecting to just get hugs, talk about my book and their lives, and maybe to eat more food, and I just wasn't prepared for that topic about me to come up out of the blue.
So, I'm thinking about tomorrow. This blog and my mental health in general could be brought up in conversation. How am I going to handle that? Am I going to tell these family members that I don't see very often about my OCD and treatment if someone brings it up? Do I want to discuss that in front of the people that I might not even know?
If I'm being honest, I'd rather not have a discussion like that on a holiday, in front of everyone. I don't want to shy away from the topic of mental health, but I also don't want to think about my OCD constantly, especially not when I could be hanging out with some family members that I've missed since last Christmas. (Because sometimes I can get by with not thinking about it for a blessedly peaceful few hours.) I'd be happy to set aside some time, or suggest we talk about it all later, after the fun and the laughs and hopefully, after the food. I will also definitely direct them to my blog so they can read it and stay in the loop with me. (I'm also a little afraid that being asked about my intrusive thoughts might be a trigger to shoot my anxiety to a high level and make the thoughts worse, since I'm being honest.)
I know things don't go the way that I plan them in my head, and I know I can't control the things that people are going to say. I'm going prepared this year, with planned out answers to the usual questions. I'm also going prepared to simply refer them to my blog instead of turning Christmas into a lecture filled with all kinds of psychobabble.
I'll end with this: Holidays are stressful. Dealing with mental illness can add to the stress of the holiday. If you feel comfortable discussing mental health in this sort of setting, that is perfectly fine. If you don't feel comfortable with that, that is also perfectly fine. Just remember that generally, the people asking are just curious because they care. If you have a loved one that has a mental health condition, please, be mindful of the way you bring it up and the questions that you ask because some things can be accidentally triggering.
This sort of thing happened on Thanksgiving. I was hanging out with some family, one of the cousins I only see once or twice a year, and I was just snacking on deep-fried turkey while the conversation bounced around from tattoos to food to hunting to travel. Then, suddenly my mental health was the topic of conversation, and I was sort of shoved into the spotlight. I got asked about my diagnosis. I got asked about medication and therapy. I even got asked about the kinds of thoughts that cause me anxiety. Then they started to offer suggestions. Yes, they only did it because they love me and they care about my well being, but that didn't make me feel less awkward about it.
I don't mind talking about mental health at all, and I'm glad they cared enough to ask. I just felt awkward in this instance with all the questions that I wasn't prepared to answer. It was also a holiday, and topics like that feel too heavy to me, to just discuss on a holiday, while we were all just hanging out. I went in expecting to just get hugs, talk about my book and their lives, and maybe to eat more food, and I just wasn't prepared for that topic about me to come up out of the blue.
So, I'm thinking about tomorrow. This blog and my mental health in general could be brought up in conversation. How am I going to handle that? Am I going to tell these family members that I don't see very often about my OCD and treatment if someone brings it up? Do I want to discuss that in front of the people that I might not even know?
If I'm being honest, I'd rather not have a discussion like that on a holiday, in front of everyone. I don't want to shy away from the topic of mental health, but I also don't want to think about my OCD constantly, especially not when I could be hanging out with some family members that I've missed since last Christmas. (Because sometimes I can get by with not thinking about it for a blessedly peaceful few hours.) I'd be happy to set aside some time, or suggest we talk about it all later, after the fun and the laughs and hopefully, after the food. I will also definitely direct them to my blog so they can read it and stay in the loop with me. (I'm also a little afraid that being asked about my intrusive thoughts might be a trigger to shoot my anxiety to a high level and make the thoughts worse, since I'm being honest.)
I know things don't go the way that I plan them in my head, and I know I can't control the things that people are going to say. I'm going prepared this year, with planned out answers to the usual questions. I'm also going prepared to simply refer them to my blog instead of turning Christmas into a lecture filled with all kinds of psychobabble.
I'll end with this: Holidays are stressful. Dealing with mental illness can add to the stress of the holiday. If you feel comfortable discussing mental health in this sort of setting, that is perfectly fine. If you don't feel comfortable with that, that is also perfectly fine. Just remember that generally, the people asking are just curious because they care. If you have a loved one that has a mental health condition, please, be mindful of the way you bring it up and the questions that you ask because some things can be accidentally triggering.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Slipping Through the Cracks
I never really understood the idea that someone could just "slip through the cracks" of the mental healthcare system. Sure, I saw stuff on TV and had class discussions about people slipping through the cracks of the mental healthcare system, but I never really understood how that was possible. I always wondered how it was possible for an entire person, one that may be exhibiting severe symptoms, or one that is actively seeking help from a mental health profession, could just float under the radar or just sort of get lost somewhere along the way in the system.
I was naïve or an idealist about the whole thing, I guess. I saw the number of community mental health agencies, the number of private therapists out there, and the things like that, and I thought that meant it was easy to get treated. Then when I sought out mental health services, I saw the number of people that needed the same services that I needed. That number was larger than I thought it would be.
So many people ask for help. They seek out the community mental health agencies in their area, or soldiers and veterans get sent to the VA inpatient or outpatient mental health services. A few people can even make it to the private therapists. Yet, people still "slip through the cracks" in the system. They go untreated or they just get psychotropic medications from their primary care physician instead of a psychiatrist, and sometimes that doesn't help them.
I finally saw first-hand how easy it was to slip through the cracks in the mental healthcare system. I chose to go to a community mental health agency because they took my insurance, and even if my insurance stopped paying for treatment, I could afford to pay since they had a sliding scale for payment. I also heard from people in treatment there explain that if you didn't work, they wouldn't charge for services. People flocked to these community agencies because they had no other options because of the cost of care. That meant these places were full. Therapists were doing everything they possibly could, and they were still short on time.
I was able to be seen by my therapist once a month or every 3 weeks for 45 minute sessions. (With OCD I should have been seeing a therapist once a week.) I was doing well until I woke up some days and I wasn't doing well that day. Those days were quite frequent. I was on a cancellation list, but just because I was on a list didn't mean anyone was actually cancelling their appointments. I could also call my therapist and leave a message, but I could end up waiting up to 48 hours for a callback, while I was having some kind of crisis. It wasn't the fault of the agency because they just didn't have adequate resources to provide better treatment. They're literally doing the best they can with what they have.
It was a scary thing when I realized that I could have easily just slipped through the cracks like so many other people struggling with a mental health condition. I didn't, but I know that I'm lucky. I know plenty of people do everyday, and I know a great many of those people just can't find or can't afford better treatment.
I'll end with this: It is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to actually work through clinical mental health conditions like Anxiety Disorders, Depression, Bipolar Disorder, or PTSD on your own. I know financial issues are huge for mental health, but that's the very reason that community organizations are willing to work with people on payment. If your sessions with a therapist are spaced out like mine were, hang in there. Don't stop going just because it feels like it takes forever. It's also okay to call a crisis center, or to call your therapist, or any member of a support system that you have when you need help.
I was naïve or an idealist about the whole thing, I guess. I saw the number of community mental health agencies, the number of private therapists out there, and the things like that, and I thought that meant it was easy to get treated. Then when I sought out mental health services, I saw the number of people that needed the same services that I needed. That number was larger than I thought it would be.
So many people ask for help. They seek out the community mental health agencies in their area, or soldiers and veterans get sent to the VA inpatient or outpatient mental health services. A few people can even make it to the private therapists. Yet, people still "slip through the cracks" in the system. They go untreated or they just get psychotropic medications from their primary care physician instead of a psychiatrist, and sometimes that doesn't help them.
I finally saw first-hand how easy it was to slip through the cracks in the mental healthcare system. I chose to go to a community mental health agency because they took my insurance, and even if my insurance stopped paying for treatment, I could afford to pay since they had a sliding scale for payment. I also heard from people in treatment there explain that if you didn't work, they wouldn't charge for services. People flocked to these community agencies because they had no other options because of the cost of care. That meant these places were full. Therapists were doing everything they possibly could, and they were still short on time.
I was able to be seen by my therapist once a month or every 3 weeks for 45 minute sessions. (With OCD I should have been seeing a therapist once a week.) I was doing well until I woke up some days and I wasn't doing well that day. Those days were quite frequent. I was on a cancellation list, but just because I was on a list didn't mean anyone was actually cancelling their appointments. I could also call my therapist and leave a message, but I could end up waiting up to 48 hours for a callback, while I was having some kind of crisis. It wasn't the fault of the agency because they just didn't have adequate resources to provide better treatment. They're literally doing the best they can with what they have.
It was a scary thing when I realized that I could have easily just slipped through the cracks like so many other people struggling with a mental health condition. I didn't, but I know that I'm lucky. I know plenty of people do everyday, and I know a great many of those people just can't find or can't afford better treatment.
I'll end with this: It is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to actually work through clinical mental health conditions like Anxiety Disorders, Depression, Bipolar Disorder, or PTSD on your own. I know financial issues are huge for mental health, but that's the very reason that community organizations are willing to work with people on payment. If your sessions with a therapist are spaced out like mine were, hang in there. Don't stop going just because it feels like it takes forever. It's also okay to call a crisis center, or to call your therapist, or any member of a support system that you have when you need help.
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