Dirty Hands and a Broken Heart

Today was a day of breakthroughs!!!!
Miss Kathy and I discovered one of the MAJOR triggers to my panic attacks.
Heartache. Pain.
When I start to hurt, I begin to panic so that I don't have to feel the hurt.
So the key is to wait out the pain.
Easier said than done.

Imagery is good stuff. It has some thing to do with something being triggered in your brain...I don't remember but suffice it to say, imagery is good news!
So Miss Kathy and I came up with some.

When I start to hurt I can visualize a bunch of hands on my heart.
Gross, warty, dirty, vindictive hands.
One is squeezing my heart, another is tearing it apart, and another is making holes in it.
Bad, dirty hands, HATE the light. SO....
I picture my heart lighting up, filling with warmth, it becomes bright yellow so that the hands have to drop it.

I can't put into words what a relief it was to figure out the madness. And now I have a defense. It doesn't mean I'm done panicking, but it means that there is hope.

And hope is very good news.

Crisis Averted

So once upon a time, Miss Kathy gave me the phone number to a 24 hour crisis line, just in case. Supposedly there would always be someone to talk to. 

Last night, or should I say this morning, I was in the middle of a Natalie Crisis. I got up and called the number. No answer. I try again. A girl answers. "Is this the crisis line?" "No." "Sorry, wrong number."

Crisis NOT averted. 

Time to call my one of my personal crisis lines. In hindsight I realize that I have a list miles of long of people I could call. But in the moment, only one name came to mind that made sense. So I called my Hoven.

2:45 am? No sweat. First she reminded me that the things Ralph wanted to make me do were not good ideas and had me list things I'm grateful for. Then she made me breathe while I panicked. Finally, a beautiful distraction in the form of stories from her love life was brought to pass. 

I fell asleep soon after hanging up with Hoven and was awoken this morning by Mary rubbing my back. Not a bad gig eh?

We had just been talking about good friends that night during family home evening, thank goodness I have plenty of those!

You Know Your Psychiatrist is Awesome When...

You know your psychiatrist is awesome when you enter her office feeling like your world is falling apart and leave thinking "Dude I've got this!"

5 Reasons Dr. Mansoor is Awesome

1. She's more than willing to collaborate with my therapist. In fact, she and Miss Kathy are meeting this week because they have several patients in common besides me! Great times.

2. She's open and honest: "Are you ADD? I don't like you. Oh no! I like you, but not how things are for you right now! How are you functioning with all this anxiety??"

3. She helps me realize that some things are truly out of my control. "Don't blame yourself! Blame the medication that's not working!

4. She fluffs my ego, especially about things I didn't think I was good at it. "You have amazing will power! All this anxiety and you continue to function!"

5. Though she's not a member, she takes all my Mormonness in stride. In fact she encourages it: "You need to be a good Mormom forever!" Honestly, I really like that I can't sit through an appointment with her without talking about my faith. Having it be so engrained into who I am makes me extremely happy.

Thank goodness for people who are smarter than me!

That Moment When.....

Have you ever had that moment where you can't figure out if you're feeling cruddy because of your "issue" or if it just comes natural? No? Awkward....moving on. May I be frank?

I HATE THAT MOMENT!!!!!

I'm having it right now, have been all day actually. Not a fan, in the slightest.

I would love to believe that the reason that all the following things that are plauging me can be traced back to my panic disorder, but I'm 99% sure that they can't:

•Having the impulse to take up drinking. (No it's not something I will ever act on, calm down!) 

•Being irritated with everyone and their dog.

•Having zero desire to do the things that I KNOW will make me happy.

•Wanting to throw up whenever missions or missionaries are brought up.

•Wanting to run away and never look back.

•Feeling like I'm constantly being attacked by the people who love me the most.

•Assume that everyone hates me and I'm going to be lonely and unhappy forever.

Wow. Finally *verbalizing* those things actually makes me feel a little better, hot dawg!

 

Feel free to make your own list, it just might bring a little relief.

Side Note: Have you ever had that moment when you wish you could reach your hand into your chest and rip your heart out? No? Well...I do. On a daily basis almost. I just get tired of hurting, I would love nothing more than to just be numb. 

I realize that this has been extremely negative, pessimistic, etc. Sue me. It's my blog, I can say what I want. It's therapy for me, therapy that WORKS. So if you don't like it, don't read it. FFTJS. (Feel free to judge silently.)

Do you like how I prematurely got overly defensive? Yeah that should've been on the list as well. 

Now I will bid you adieu.

Why I'm Happy

So a lot of the time, I feel like myself. I start to feel whole again. Life is good, fancy free, no worries. Then out of nowhere...I'll be driving home, stopped at a red light. And I can't breathe, I feel like I'm falling apart. What the ???

So I'm headed up to girls camp this week to slave away in the kitchen. So stoked! I also got asked to speak for a few minutes at a workshop. Guess what my topic is? Staying faithful while in the midst of trials. Hah. Yeah I got a good chuckle out of that too.

So you'd think that I'd be used to "the questions." And I am, for the most part, but once in awhile Rosie will get a little weepy when kind, well meaning people ask. 

I just started a new book today called The Anatomy of Peace. There's a lot to it, but so far the big theme is "Seeing people as people, not as objects." So when someone encourages me to get back on my mission, I can see them as the kind, encouraging human that they are. Rather than a jerk face object whose trying to tell me how to live my life.

I know that this post has been skadawompus, but that's kind of how life is eh?

Let's not be afraid of life's imperfections shall we? I'm choosing to embrace them, make the most of every moment I'm given and do whatever Heavenly Father asks.

And that's why I'm happy. 

Find Your Angel

Once upon a time (tonight), I came home from babysitting, knowing that I had a lot to do so I can skip town tomorrow. I was already hanging from a thread because I'd forgotten to take my meds.

So I walk into my house. It's deserted, and a disaster. And I lose it. I cry louder and harder than any baby or toddler I've ever heard in my life. Just walking through my house trying to release the anguish and angst I'm feeling. 

Then I start praying, Heavenly Father, please send me an angel! I need help! So I get the feeling to go outside. Maybe someone will miraculously be standing there...no such luck. But then the thought occurs to me, "go to the neighbors and get a blessing." 

I knock on their door and am immediately ushered into the house. The father then wraps his arms around me while I cry myself out. His sweet wife brings me tissues, and we chat until I'm somewhat coherent again. Then this dear man, a former bishop in my church, proceeds to give me the most beautiful blessing. Filled with words of comfort and encouragement to rely on my Savior. 

I head home, and the waterworks begin again, but I have no time to feel sorry for myself. I walk through my house, getting things done and speaking aloud "You can do this. You can do hard things. Jut keep putting one foot in front of the other." Then I'd argue with myself:

Strong voice: you need to clean the house now.

Tearful voice: no, I can't!

Strong voice: yes you can! You can do hard things! 

Then I Realize how ridiculous I sound, so I look in the mirror and begin laughing through my tears at the complete lunacy. That's what the above picture is portraying.

Just in case you were wondering, I did get my act together and accomplished a lot. 

Moral of the story: sometimes we have to go looking for our own angels, then when we've received their help, we have to force ourselves to do hard things. 

Because we can.

Roadblocks

So I spend a lot of time thinking about this blog, arguing with myself mostly about what to post. For example: should I blog after a really hard yet unremarkable day? Will it do any good to describe all the cruddy feelings I had today? 

Well I need to pedal this bike for another ten minutes anyways... Consider yourself warned. Today was not a "fist bump yeah yeah yeah" day.

I woke up, really late. Feeling dazed. Not ready to function, but not tired anymore. Couple that with the bad dream I had (about mean sister missionaries) and I was a real ray of sunshine.

I was pretty sure I had therapy today, couldn't remember the time though, so I ended up being there an hour early. Plent y of time to lay on the couch and be cranky.

Finally I go into Miss Kathy's office and proceed to vent. A lot. She keeps telling me that the reason I panic and get anxious is because my brain is trying distract me from it's real problem. And we don't know what that is. "The mind hates unanswered questions." Super. So I'm being tortured because I can't figure out the answer to an illusive question? Super. NO ANSWER CAN COME UNTIL THERE'S A QUESTION!!!!!!!!! (Yes I just screamed that internally.) Anyway, I'm just a wee bit frustrated.

So I did a lot of crying at therapy today, that helped. Miss Kathy seemed different today. She thinks some adjustments to my meds should be made. Also, I get to go to the doctor tomorrow because she thinks my hormones are out of whack. (I've always known that though.) So she and my therapist Dr. M are gonna pow wow about me. That ought to be an interesting conversation. I'm kind of excited to hear about it.

So the moral of today's story is this: even though you're doing all that you can and you know you're making improvement, you're still going to have hard days, and that's okay!

Meet Ralph

Once upon a time, (a few weeks ago) I read a book that changed my life. Life Without Ed tells the story of a woman, Jenni, who overcame her eating disorder through the help of a therapist who had a revolutionary (for her) approach. She learned to think of her disorder as a separate being from herself. His name is ED (as in eating disorder.) Jenni figured out that she was in an unhealthy marriage with Ed and it was high time for a divorce. The book describes her experiences and tools she used to come out on top. 

The first step was to identify who was talking: Jenni or Ed. When it was Ed, she had to disobey and eventually disagree with him. 

As I read this amazing account, it occurred to me, "this could work for you!!" No, I don't have an eating disorder, but you better believe that I have a voice inside my head that is forever endeavoring to convince me to self-destruct. That's not me. Natalie Rose doesn't think it's a good idea to overdose on medication, or to bang her head against the floor until she goes unconscious, or even to contact FTH. But Ralph does. He works tirelessly to convince me that these negative behaviors will make me feel better. Every day I get a little better at saying NO. Our conversations have evolved and tend to go a little something like this:

Ralph: This mission farewell is pretty hard for you huh?

Nat: It really is.

Ralph: When you get home, you should take a couple pills.

Nat: I'm not supposed to take more meds until tonight.

Ralph: But if you take them now, you'll feel better.

Nat: I highly doubt that.

Ralph: Why would you doubt me?? I've gotten you this far haven't I? 

Nat: *reverent sarcastic snort* 

There's been one or two days since this discovery that I haven't had the strength to fight Ralph. But that in NO way, shape or form, means that I've failed. All it means is that I need to take better care of Rosie so that the two of us can be better prepared for Ralph's next attack. 

The moral of the story: we all need to evaluate the thoughts racing through our craniums, do they represent our feelings and beliefs? Or someone else's?