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  1. Last week in therapy, Dr. Barron asked if we could work on my issues with sexual activity. I said yes. As we talked, panic set in and I quickly back-pedaled. I told him I had changed my mind and I didn't want to discuss that topic any more. He kindly told me that was okay and we could talk about something else. So, we moved on. Instead, we talked about my feelings of hopelessness when it comes to my medication and therapy. How I feel as if that being free of depression and anxiety feel like a lie. To have sex without a panic attack seems unattainable. Dr. Barron asked if there were any points in time the previous week where I didn't feel hopeless. I had to think for a bit, but yes, there was. I was at an amusement park with my husband, boys, parents and brother. I didn't feel hopeless then. I felt safe and loved and I had a really good time. "So you don't feel hopeless when you're around those people who love you?" Dr. Barron asked. "No," I answered. "I suppose I don't." I explained to him how nights were hard for me. My boys were in bed and it's like they don't exist and my reasons for fighting and trying so hard were gone. We had a simi-long discussion on how they are never really gone even if they aren't with me because I hold them in my heart. Chessy, I know. But it made me think and realize I need to keep reminding myself and training my head to remember that even though they are not physically with me, they aren't gone and I still have something to keep fighting for. He asked me how I felt about what we talked about. "You're right," I told him with a heavy sigh. He chuckled a bit. "You know what?" He asked me. "What's that?" "I don't see you as an adversary," he explained. "But sometimes I feel as if we are playing a game of chess." I thought about it and laughed a little. He was right again. Our sessions are a lot like a chess game that we continue each week. I am trying to convince him that I am a worthless piece of that doesn't deserve what I have and nothing will ever get better. And he is trying to convince me that I am worth something and that I can live without depression and anxiety. I don't know if I've taken any of his pawns yet, but he has some of mine. I guess this is one game of chess that I'm hoping I'll eventually loose.
  2. Welcome! I am sorry about everything you're going through. These forums have shown to be great support for me between my therapy sessions. I hope you find it helpful also. Lots of great people here who can offer support and advise.
  3. Thank you both for your replies. Honestly, I was so embarrassed after I wrote this, I had planned on not posting on these forums anymore lol. 20YearsandCointing, I'm doing better now. Thank you so much for asking. Therapy is just hard sometimes. Dr. Barron is a really good therapist and I do like him a lot. I just get frustrated. Sometimes, I feel like giving up on it all. Living depression and anxiety free seems like an unattainable fairytale. I think part of me is still mad at him for sending me to the ER back in April. But I do understand that he had to do it and I need to let that anger go. I just still have nightmares sometimes about that night in the psych ward. Every dream about it brings that tiny spark of anger back. But I am sorry about the angry post and I really do thank you both for replying and sharing with me. It really made me feel better. Thank you.
  4. So, I was feeling a bit angry and upset last night and I wrote this. I'm sorry. I tried to delete it but I couldn't figure out how. I'm sorry I posted this and I hope it doesn't upset anyone. I'm sorry.
  5. What if I said I was done? If I told you I have decided not to believe you any more. What if I don't believe there is a "better" for me and I'm ****ing sick of trying to force myself to believe the bulls***? What if I told you I was never going to set foot in another shrink's office ever again? What if I told you you are all nothing but liers selling something that doesn't exist? Would that hurt your feelings? Would you be worried about me? What if I told you that if I really wanted to be dead, it would be done? That if I really wanted to be dead, I wouldn't breath a word of it to you. Would you send me back to the ER if I told you that? Would they lock me in a padded room wearing a straight jacket? Cause that would make me what to live, right? Being locked up and cut off from the outside world to be forgotten. That's the best way to inject the will to live in a person. ...
  6. Thank you for checking in jalee. My son's bottom is much better and I'm feeling better also. Sometimes I feel like if I was a good mother, I wouldn't make mistakes when it comes to my children. I do understand that is a warped and unhelpful way to think. I'm working on that. Self hatred and self shaming and self blame are always what my mind jumps to first. I need to get myself to realize that everyone makes mistakes. Perfect is an unachieveable goal. But I can learn from mistakes right? So next time my aunt offers him candy with fake sugar I can tell both him and her no, that it hurts his stomach and I can prevent it from happening again. Right? At least that's what I'm telling myself lol
  7. So yeah. I like writing. It helps me get feelings out. It's easier for me to write than it is to talk. Usually I come here to write about how I'm feeling and get support and feed back, and it's great. It's really helping me cope between therapy sessions. But this post is a little different. I really have a question and I'm hoping someone can shead some light on it for me. I'd say for the past 3 to 4 weeks, I've been seeing things out the corner of my eye that aren't really there. I've thought it was a bug, my cat or someone walking up to my car window. When I turn my head toward it to get a better look, nothing is there. Didn't think anything of it at first. But it seems to be happening a lot. So much so that when it starts to happen now, I beat myself up about it. "Really, M? You're doing it again? Really?" I'll tell myself. I've been having some other odd symptoms too. I've been getting really bad headaches a lot. They last for days and nothing seems to help them. I thought it was my allergies. Just kind of grinned and bared it telling myself everything will stop blooming eventually and I'll feel better. I've been sweating...a lot. I usually am the kind of person that hardly sweats at all. But I've had days were I've had sweat dripping off of me. I've never had that happen before. I feel so hot sometimes. Usually, I'm kind of cold natured. Keep telling myself it's because I just had 2 kids and it's messed with my anatomy. I've been running fevers out of no where. I'll not feel so good and get a chill. I check my temperature and I'll be between 99.0 and 100.0. Then it goes away as quickly as it comes. So, my questions are: 1. Am I hallucinating? I thought hallucinating was more obvious than what I've been experiencing. But I've done a bit of online research and I'm just not sure. 2. If I am, should I be worried about it? 3. Should I bring any of this up with my therapist or my doctor? Or am I just being anxious and paranoid and I need to chill out about it and stop being such a stupid hypocondriac. Maybe I need to focus on other things instead of trying to webmd myself to death.
  8. It's dark. Cold. Hopeless. The air is heavy. I'm sitting in the dark place, watching the spiral. The hughes of black and red swirl downward. My feet are dangling over it as I watch it turn. I can feel it pulling me. The pull isn't horribly strong. It's been tugging at me for days though. I can feeling my stamina failing. At my back, there is a light. It flickers and I can see its glow out of the corner of my eye. The light and the darkness both talk to me, like an angel and a devil on my shoulders. "You're okay," the light promises. "This will pass and you'll feel better." The dark snickers at the light. "There is no "better". This is just who you are. Once something is broken, it stays broken. You can try to fix it but the cracks are always there." "Do a mood log!" The light proclaims. "Talk yourself through this. Change your thinking." "Oh yeah. Uh huh. A mood log. That will help," the dark mocks. "Go ahead. Right it all down. You'll never believe those positive thoughts your writing. Your just trying to trick yourself. It doesn't work." "You have a good life. You have people who love you and want to help you," the light says earnestly. "Oh yes, they do love you," the dark promises. "That's what makes you such a huge burden to them. Your husband goes to a job he hates and is taking summer classes that stress him out all so he can support your fat ass. Then he comes home and you're agitated and angry and sad and you can't even tell him why. Dr. Barron meets with you week after week and has done so for nearly a year. You are still the blob of self defeating, self loathing piece of you were whe. You first walked into his office. Even he sees you as the hopeless paitent you are and only keeps seeing you because you pay him to do so." The conflicting thoughts give me a headache and make my ears ring. The swirling blackness looks better all the time. I bet it's quiet there. Why keep fighting the pull? Why not just fall in and let the current take me? Wouldn't that be easier for everyone? With a heavy sigh, I continue to hold onto the edge of that spiral. Everyone says there is something better. That I can live better. I look over my shoulder toward that light. If I close my eyes, I can feel the light ever so lightly kiss my cheeks. It's harder to feel it at night, but if I close my eyes and think really hard I can feel it. Just because my reasons for living are curled up in their beds asleep, it doesn't mean they don't still exist. I take a deep breath and look back at that blackness. "Yeah, you're still here," I tell it. "But I'm not falling in. I may not fully believe what the light has to say. But I don't fully believe you either." I take another deep breath and wrap my arms around myself. "I don't feel good."
  9. My son got diarrhea from eating too much of this certain candy. Because of this, his little hiney is very red and very sore. I keep gooping destin on him, but it still is very red and says ow and gets tears in his eyes when I change his diaper. I am the worst mother. What mother lets this happen? I am horrible. He deserves so much better. It's my fault he is hurting. He's not even two and I'm hurting him. I don't deserve my children or my husband. They would be better off without me. I hate myself. They need to get away from me. I am such a horrible, awful, terrible mother.
  10. "Okay M, what's with all the blood in the garbage?" My husband asked a little bit ago. I knew what he was talking about, but I played coy. I have seasonal allergies. It makes me itchy sometimes. I'll get little scabs on my legs from scratching. Lately, instead of cutting to make panic attacks stop, I've been scratching off the scabs. I've had a couple sores on my legs I haven't let heal for a month or two now. "What blood?" I asked him and walked over. "All these ****** tissues in the garbage. I can ignor one or two but I've seen them a lot lately. Where is the blood coming from M?" "Oh!" I said as I got my fake realization. "It's just from me scratching my legs. See?" I showed him the little scabs on my legs. "Oh okay." He said. "I just had to ask. It seemed like a lot of blood and i was worried." So it wasn't a full lie... Like a half truth. It's got to be better than cutting right? It's certainly easier to hide. I guess that's not the kind of justification I need to be making. Are all coping mechanisms bad? I mean, I need someway to cope... Right? Can't drink. You'll get addicted and only mask the problem. Can't cut. You're not supposed to hurt yourself. Can't eat the problems away, just makes me fatter and being fatter makes me more depressed. Can't talk to my husband. He's got enough to worry about and he doesn't like hearing about my past. It hurts him. Only see my therapist once a week, how am I supposed to deal with all these thoughts and feelings between sessions? Scratching off a scab and watching it bleed out for a minute really is t that bad, is it?
  11. So today I had been invited to a grill out at my very best friends house and a wedding shower of a coworker. I mulled this over and over in my head for WEEKS. I didn't want to make anyone mad at me. My husband had to work so whichever I chose, I would be dragging my 8 month old and almost 2 year old with me by myself. It's a big job. Ultimately I decided to go to my best friends party. My best friend is like family to me and the coworker is well, a a coworker. And my friends party was going to be more fun for the boys than a wedding shower would be. So, since I could not make everyone happy, I decided to do what would make me happy and that would be easiest on me. That was going to my friends party. Now I'm sitting here and worrying about what they are going to say to me at work on Monday and how mad everyone is going to be. For about 5 seconds it flashed into my head that maybe ******* myself would be easier than facing everyone on Monday. How crazy is that? I haven't thought much about suicide since they increased the dose of my medication. But I thought about it just now for a bit because of the anxiety I feel about making the decision to do something I wanted to do and would be easiest on me. Just when you think maybe you're starting to better understand this depression and anxiety thing and get a better handle on it, it bucks you off and stomps you in the gut.
  12. ab75, I've been seeing Dr. Barron for about 9 months. I really do like him a lot but this really threw me off guard. And freckled face, I did what you said. I emailed him this post along with a letter explaining it. He told me he was sorry. That sometimes his therapeutic intentions got the best of him. He also said he was glad I shared my feeling with him and that he hoped this would just strengthen our trust and communication.
  13. I'm sorry Teddy. I know this really isn't what you want, but just letting you know that there are decent and caring people. We here understand depression and anxiety, but no one can really understand the way you feel except for you. I get that. But I just want to let you know, I'm sorry. And it sucks. And I too understand depression and anxiety because I live with it also. But it has many faces even though it goes by the same name. Don't dismiss people so quickly. No one will ever understand, but people can empathize and do their best to help. Sending you love Teddy and hoping for a parting in your cloudy sky.
  14. I thought my husband was mad at me yesterday. He was being grumpy and pessimistic and negative. I wondered what I had done wrong. In my head, I KNEW he was mad and I KNEW it was my fault. I asked him if he was mad. He said no. I KNEW he was lying. Since I was so convinced that I was right, I asked him repeatedly. "Are you mad at me?" "No." "Are you lying?" "No." "What did I do wrong?" "You didn't do anything wrong!" "Then why are you acting like this?" "I'm just tired. I'm not mad." But I was certain he was lying. I KNEW if he sat down and took a lie detector test, he would fail. I was certain I had done something to make him mad and he wasn't telling me. Because my depressed and anxious brain was telling me my emotional reasoning was the truth, the spiral started to happen. He's mad at you and he's lying. You have done something wrong. You are a terrible wife. You are a horrible mother. He doesn't love you. He wishes you had killed yourself. He wants to leave you. He feels stuck with you because you have children with him. If he wants to leave, he should just leave instead of stringing me along. I'll shut him out before he shuts me out. I just will shut down emotionally so it won't hurt when he leaves. He is frustrated because we don't have sex. It's your fault. You should just bare the panic attacks like an adult. You should just have sex with him every night whether you want to or not; panic attack or no panic attack. Medication side effects are not a valid excuse for not wanting sex. Maybe you should just stop taking your medication. If you were drunk all the time, he'd love you..... The spiral goes deep. My youngest son began to cry and I had to go in and take care of him. By the time I came out, my husband came up and hugged me. "I know you are anxious and depressed and going through a lot right now. I know you believe what you think to be true. But, I am not mad at you and I love you with all of my heart. I was quiet because I was tired. When you said I was being quiet, I tried to talk about things on my mind. I didn't mean for them to be negative. It was just things I was thinking about. When you said I was being negative, I just stopped talking again. The windows were down and it was hard to talk anyway. I love you. I am tired. But I am not mad at you." I told him I was sorry for acting that way. I explained to him that I really believed with all of my being that he was lying and it was my fault. So that got me thinking.... Are my feelings still valid? If what I think and what I feel are so twisted and warped, are they still worth anything? All these horrible things I believe to be true about myself, even the good things I feel, do they merit any weight? Can whatever I say or feel be dismissed with a wave of a hand and a chuckle just because of my depression and anxiety? And what does that say about me? I think, therefore, I am; right? But if my thinking and feelings are twisted and warped, does that mean I myself am twisted and warped? Are my thoughts valid? Are my feelings valid? Am I, valid? Or am I just spiraling into mind traps and depression yet again? Is this all just an infinity mirror with no end? Am I trapped in a never ending staircase illusion and no matter how high I climb I'll always end up in the same place? ...Am I asking too many questions?... Yes. Yes I am. I'm sorry.
  15. I had my weekly session with Dr. Barron today. He said that he got the feeling that maybe I felt that if I wasn't depressed or anxious that I would feel like people wouldn't have any reason to care about me or see that I'm there. That I would disappear without depression or anxiety. I took that as he felt that I was doing all of this for attention. That made me feel horrible.He told me that wasn't what he meant. He was just trying to tell me that it was okay, that I was still worth something without depression or anxiety. That I would still exist and people would still care about me if I wasn't anxious or depressed. I've felt anxious and panicked ever since the session. I keep mulling around in my head trying to believe that he didn't mean he thought I was faking all of this. I keep thinking, well if I'm faking then it should be easy to just stop right? Or if I was just doing all of this for attention, maybe I would tell him about every time I thought about hurting myself or shooting myself. Then I'd go to the hospital again. Certainly got a lot of attention there. Or if I was doing this all for attention maybe I would start cutting myself in places that weren't as easy to hide or tell everyone that I scratch off and pick off scabs just to watch them bleed because it makes me feel better. Or make everyone aware how desparetly I want to be drunk so I don't have to feel all these horrible feelings. How badly I have to fight the urge to stop after one alcohol. Or tell everyone how hard it is to just get out of bed in the morning. That if it wasn't for my boys I wouldn't have anything to live for. That if it wasn't for them, I'd be dead. And that I feel guilty because I feel like that puts a lot of pressure on them even though they aren't even aware of it. Is he giving up on me? I really thought I was doing better. I was really proud of myself for getting myself out of a pretty severe panick attack. But after he said that, I clammed up. I didn't want to talk anymore. So much so I didn't even want to talk about what he said or how it made me feel, despite whether that was his intention or not. He didn't get much more than head nods from me after that. I felt angry and betrayed but at the same time I felt bad and guilty for getting angry with him. When he asked me if I was mad at him and that it was okay if I was, I didn't even have the guts to tell him I was mad. I didn't want to hurt him even though I felt like he hurt me. I am just a horrible person.
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