Wednesday, January 23, 2008

mental health, it's a good thing!

You know, as I get older, and have more on my plate, I really think that therapy is a good thing.
I have long felt that, though a useful and good tool for others, it just wasn't for me. I had nothing wrong, really! I also sometimes think that my general opinion of meds for everyone but me might be flawed.

I seem to suffer from superwoman syndrome. No matter how much I do in a day, or how well I do it, it's never enough for me. I often times take an "all or nothing" approach to things becasue of this, which ultimately results in nothing getting done. That's not good.
Yesterday, Hubby and Roomie cleaned the livingroom. Cleaned. Moved all the furniture out of the room and scrubbed, clean. I in turn, spent the first half of the day driving MIL to all of her doctor's appointments for her six week post op followup. She is doing fabulous. I then tackled the kitchen. It isn't CLEAN yet, but the dishes are done, the stove and counters have been scrubbed. I also got to thaw the pipes and drain for the shower, and clean that room, since it's been out of commision since saturday.
I kept telling myself that the dining/computer room and the bedroom needed to be clean. They weren't, the kitchen should have been more clean. The case in the living room was organized, but not clean. Hubby eventually forced me to sit down when I grabbed Roomie's empty dinner plate, from his hands in order to wash it. He was finished, and on his way to the kitchen sink, but not moving fast enough.
I am very pleased with how I did this term in school, of my two classes, I finished one with an overall 95.10 percent, and the other, harder class, with a 96.67 percent. I know that this is good, I know I should be happy, I am also beeting myself up for not doing better. I know I could have done better. Yes, they are A grades, but the could have been better A's!
I know I need to get these things under control, no matter what.
Add to this the funkiness I get a few times a year that I can only attribute to my Dad nad his families shittiness. Add to this something of a family history of mental health issues, add to this not sleeping well, being tired, beating myself up inside for not doing more, then not just doing something, etc.etc.etc. and maybe it's time I did something about it.

I realized that therapy scaresme. Talking to someone else about my issues, out loud, makes them real. I always try to be the strong one. I try to be the stable one, and admitting that I am not scares me. Hearing that I moght not be "all right" scares me.

Hubby and I have talked. he supports my decision to do this, and is actually encouraging me. He has sensed that things have not been %100 good with me for a while, and is glad that I started talking to him about it some, but he also knows that there are things from my past that I just don't feel like discussing with him, frankly. He is fine with that as well. After we get our tax returns, and I have an idea of how many hours a week I will be doing at my work from home job (I am retraining on my infomercial operator line), I will budget my mental health copays in, and make an appointment.
In some ways it sucks that I have to budget mental health, but then again, it's par with the course.

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