Thinking about help

Damn, @dixiehack you’re taking Saban’s retirement that hard, huh?


/if you can’t joke about someone’s mental health then what can you joke about?

Kidding aside, thank you for sharing your thoughts with your online fam. We’ve got your back.

 

I have one friend IRL who knows the full details of what I’m up to. I texted her that I was filling out the questionnaire in a stall at Sonic so I could stress eat an M&M’s shake while reliving the greatest hits of trauma.

 

For God’s sake I hope you partnered them with mozzarella sticks.

 

It seems to me that this thread can be the one focusing on mental health. I agree that it is a good thread to have and the advice on here has been excellent. I hope UNC has found the help they need.

 

As someone noted upthread, it can be a good place to start. I know some people who work online with reluctant patients and those who do not have easy access to office visits. At least one person was seriously injured while working on a medical model inpatient unit. This is something where you want to assess if you feel comfortable doing the hard work and it's doing you some good. It's not always easy to make that call, but it is doable.

A favorite gift at the now defunct Vanderbilt Peds/Ado Psych was a coffee mug that said "You're ugly and your mother dresses you funny."

Yes. Yes. Agreed.

 

I would probably benefit from doing both, but for financial reasons I had to choose whether to focus on talk therapy or going back on meds. Right now I feel the biggest gains are available by going with better living through chemistry.

 

One of the common things people used to post -especially in the politics threads- was, "You're responding to a pretend post" or something like that.

I'm about to do that right now.

The advice and experiences y'all posted about mental health care are compassionate, insightful, and intelligent. It's the people reading and not saying anything who worry me. There's somebody who may have a feeling they need help. Maybe they are putting off going to talk to someone or they are putting off going back. They might be scared of their meds. Maybe they've been told mental health care is for weak people.

Here's the thing. It's not for wimps. It can be hard work to get from where you are to where you need to be. There's nothing cowardly or weak about admitting you need help and then completing that thought with decisive action. The people who take that long hard walk to wellness are heroes, they're rock stars. That's what it looks like from my perspective as someone who has worked as a clinician.

Please, if you are dismissing this as woo nonsense, try to reframe it as simply care. Would you walk off a broken leg or a perforated appendix? Sometimes that beautiful, complex mess of gray matter needs care, too. Now get out there to whoever you need and let them help you kick some butt!

edited: Dyslexia speaks or sucks or whatever the tshirts say. Yes, my tongue is firmly in my cheek about the tshirts.

 

I've argued to my eighth-grade-teaching better half that every 13-year-old should be in school-sponsored therapy with at least one session a month. That's where things can really go off the rails, and you may have overwhelmed parents who have no clue through no fault of their own. My parents were those parents.

 

I love all of you. (As far as I know. )

I'll update on my end. A year ago, after posting this thread, I had a very bad physical with my doctor. Sweating, ridiculous heart rate and high blood pressure, just scared all the way around. Terrified. And that was because I wanted to ask for something to help anxiety but was still so afraid to ask. I felt like a complete failure.

Doc said, "Hey man, in here you can ask anything." I said I had anxiety issues.

He prescribed meds, which were similar to my wife's. We talked more, tweaked the meds over a couple of visits, and, well, I feel sooooooo much better. I think, in the grand scheme of this world, my meds are pretty light. But, motherfucker, they helped. They really did. They really DO.

Not too long ago, I broke down to my wife. Late in the night, in bed, in the dark and with a lot of tears, I let it all out. I struggle very badly with a feeling that nothing I do is good enough. That none of it is worth anything. It's a daddy issue, for sure. I've always felt that I'm good at the wrong things, things that certainly don't make money. I'm not the successful engineer that he is/was. I'm a fucking writer. And while I don't have that fully reconciled, I definitely feel like I better understand it. I still had a moment last week where I succumbed to his bidding, but recognized it later that night and felt strong in that I wouldn't make the same decision/acquiesce again. I'm growing. I'm 48, but growing, and that, in some moments, EXCITES me.

I think I'd still like to talk to someone and I haven't yet found the best path to that, but I'm I'm better. I don't pick out trees on the side of the road to drive into anymore (yeah, that scared me).

I've written some things in the last year that, honestly, I've really liked. That's hard for me. But I've gotten a decent amount of praise for those things. (OK, fine, I've gotten an immense amount of praise for those. I still suck at taking compliments.) I wish I could list the people by name here who have made me feel so much better about myself, but I know that's probably taboo. (Fuck it...Mike Croley has been a godsend to me.)

Again, I love all of you who participated in this thread and within any other in which I've posted. Y'all are so smart and strong. Thank you.

More later.

 

So glad to see you're feeling better. It's a lifelong battle. The monster will evolve, but you have the tools and correct frame of mind to conquer it.

I only know of Croley through Kornheiser's podcast, and he seems like a good chap. That's good to see it carries over into real life.

 

UNC, I hope you’re hanging in there.

Not to make it all about me, but I will for a sec.

I’ve hit a wall. And there’s no reason for me to hit it. It’s late spring, weather is much better than it was and life overall is good. I’m loved, I’m fed, I’m relatively secure in life.

But good luck getting me to go outside often. Or to work. Or to stop napping. Or, on occasion, basic taking care of myself.

I’m letting myself down and really don’t care.

I was on a bachelor party for a friend of a friend over the weekend, nothing crazy, and I only mildly enjoyed it. At first I wondered if I was just tired, now thinking this might be something more.

I don’t know how to really express what’s going on, other than it’s just a malaise.

Thanks for letting me vent.

 

@wicked, I'm no one to talk because I still haven't taken all of the necessary steps I ultimately need to. I keep telling myself it's all part of whatever journey I'm on, but convincing myself it's progress has worked fine - for now. I do feel like now I'll be able to tell when that's no longer the case, and I think I'll be better able to approach that when it comes. When I notice sturdy tree trunks again, I'll know.

That said, knowing I'm better is still a huge boon for me. I've written better in the last year than I ever have, and strangely, I'm more confident that I'm a decent writer than I've ever been. I actually trust it'll be there, on occasion, that it's not gone forever. Today was a perfect example. My place has a big event and I had no story. None. But I trusted myself to wait. And it came, and I liked the product after some hard work. I can even take a step back and see, truthfully, "Hey, that isn't bad. Some of it is good."

I've only taken the most minor of steps. The most minor. So many here have been so brave, and I want to be like them. But looking back, they're still steps. I find myself telling my wife to realize all the good and all the accomplishments she's done in her job. Her boss sucks, so I try to remind her to celebrate the victories and to actually see and realize them in the moment. Progress, in all things. I'd be better if I took that advice for myself. But it's true.

Take one step, @wicked. One. Take the easiest one. That's ok. In fact, it's fucking huge. Talk to your doctor. Just say you don't want to get out of bed. He or she will help. They will. They really fucking will. That's alone might give you a good next 365. I'm only starting, but goddammit, it IS a start. I hope I keep going one day.