Clearly, it isn’t Monday


dean supernatural laughs then gets serious

Oops. As usual…failure on my part.

I’m actually feeling up to writing a little bit, yay! There are some long stories involved, but for now, I’m just going to run down the litany of changes in my life over the past 2-ish months.

1. Took a medical leave from law school because passing was impossible with how far behind I was and I really don’t know what I want to do…

2. Looking for a full-time psychology job to try to determine if that is what I want to pursue. Since I only have a Bachelor’s degree, my job options are limited to Mental Health Technician (glorified baby-sitter) or entry level research tech. I’ve applied for about 10 of those positions around town. I’ve had 2 interviews, but no job offers.

3. I broke up with the Doc. Honestly, of all the people I’ve dated or even had a crush on, I liked him the best. I clicked with him on a different level. I’m not sure how to describe it. I broke it off because he couldn’t accept my limits. For example, he didn’t want to use safe words.

4. I’ve had lots of suicidal ideation and I’m still struggling with basic things on most days, but despite threats, no hospital yet.

5. My family is disappointed and angry because I’m ruining my life, I want to fail, I can do so much better, I’m just a personality-disordered mess, etc.

6. I’m still giving dating a shot. Since breaking it off with the Doc, I’ve had 2 dates. I skipped one (with a plausible lie because I was freaking out too much). They were with different men. The one I didn’t skip was fine. (Given #4, I find even 1 date is miraculous)

7. I’m making a concerted effort to rekindle friendships and familial relationships that I’ve damaged through isolating

8. I told my mom about IT and… her reaction was surprising and I wish I hadn’t told her. She wasn’t angry and she didn’t blame me, but she won’t let it go.

 

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Aversive Stimuli: To Quit Law School


This weekend my dad and I spoke about my “demons”. (his words, not mine) Just like my mom comparing eating disorder behavior to self-control, my dad asked how I could stand to cut my arms and yet I couldn’t read a few pages in a boring book. My mom referring to restricting or purging as self-control bugs me because they aren’t displays of self-control. If anything, they’re a lack of control. She, of all people, should know that! At first, his similar question bugged me because I thought he was downplaying self-injury.

He explained himself saying the first time I cut myself it had to hurt. However, I kept doing it and the more I cut, the deeper the cuts became. I got “better” at it. I learned to withstand an increasing amount of pain, despite its aversive nature. Thinking about it, he has a point.

Why is scarring my arm easier than reading a stupid book? What is so aversive? Well, it is boring. That hardly seems like a good enough reason. I think the problem is I’m imagining a lifetime of exceedingly boring work. It isn’t just a chapter because it represents years, which scares me. Overcoming a semester or 2 of boredom would be simple, but a lifetime is different.

Why is class so aversive? Right now, I’m sitting 30 feet away from the classroom I should be in. Why is sitting through an hour and 15 minute class so awful that I can’t bother to walk 30 feet to endure it?

Supernatural_Dean_i am crap

Well, my self-concept as an intelligent person is shaky. It is one of the few things I like about myself, but for most of my life I didn’t believe it. So, the belief is easily upset. Classes confuse me because I skip most of them and don’t read. Therefore, class is aversive because it makes me feel stupid. However, logically I know if I skip, I only become more lost. So, what is really keeping me from going to class? I am more terrified of others seeing me as an imposter than discovering I’m not good enough on my own. If I don’t read, I will look stupid if I am cold called. I’ll look especially stupid; reading doesn’t guarantee a good answer.

I think my problem is I cannot face people thinking I am not good enough. Here, that means my IQ. I’d rather hide and leave the possibility that I’m intelligent. It is a vicious cycle because the more I avoid class, the more lost I feel, and the more lost I feel, the more painful class becomes. At the beginning of each day, I tell myself I’ll do the right things. I’ll read for class  and go to all my class regardless. Yet, every day I procrastinate thinking I’ll begin reading in an hour, after the next article, or after I read all my open tabs. As soon as that happens, I invent some other excuse. Since I don’t read, I feel increasingly anxious about class and true to form, I skip it. Then I feel guilty. When I get home I know I should study, but I feel awful and the mounting absences and unread pages, makes it feel overwhelming. Therefore, I avoid beginning the task and it all starts over…

Supernatural_every wrong move_Dean

How can I fix the problem? Get more real will power? I need to change how I think and/or feel. The thoughts cause the feelings. I could manually alter the feelings with my usual coping “skills”. In fact, at the moment, I very much want to cut. Yet, even though the coping mechanisms help wash the pain away, I usually still don’t want to study because all of them tire me. So, the best road is to change my thoughts, but that is a long journey. It is difficult to catch, challenge, and change all incorrect thoughts. Plus, it takes time to actually begin to believe the changed thoughts.

Is there anything I can do in the meantime? Accountability doesn’t work, at least not with my parents, because I lie to them so they aren’t disappointed. I have the next 3 days to do better. If I can’t at least read and go to every class for the next 3 days, I’m quitting. A leave of absence is pointless because law school is the environmental factor creating my depression! Other than the inevitable ego loss from failure, I think my depression will abate if I leave. The only way a leave of absence would help is if I fixed all my maladaptive thought patterns and then tried again. I don’t think I can. I think I’m stuck like this.

Supernatural_dean crying better

I don’t know what else to do that could help me do the right things in the next 3 days/ the rest of the semester.

BDSM Promotes Emotional Bonding or Violence is Love?


In a past relationship, I let someone control when, how, and what I ate. The memory makes me laugh because a few months ago I was on an eating disorder board and someone asked whether anyone’s Dominant controlled their food and how that worked. She talked about it in a long-term manner. I said I’d never done that and it sounded like it could bring up issues because of her eating disorder. My food control experience was just a weekend and  apparently the food control did not bother me at all since I just remembered it.

Looking back, I’m extremely surprised I agreed to that. It was freshman year of college; I was not free of eating disorder behavior. I think I agreed to it because I trusted him, but also because he made me feel gorgeous and wanted. My eating disorder is not all about vanity, but it is about emotional connections and overwhelming negative emotions. I let his positive view of me, override my self-image. I saw myself through his eyes. Seeing a whole person, a good person, a pretty girl and not a broken, evil, ugly person made emotional connections seem possible and emotions less scary. For the first time, I saw why someone could want me. I had significant others before that, but they never made me feel that way.

I’m not sure what the difference is.

fight hugs

Oh God, does this mean I can’t feel like someone thinks I’m beautiful unless they hit me? In other words, they can say whatever they want, but unless there is pain, I think they’re just saying nice things…like someone hurting me shows that they want me enough to hurt me…or I don’t even know what I’m saying!

https://i0.wp.com/gifsforum.com/images/gif/confused/grand/confused-eccbc87e4b5ce2fe28308fd9f2a7baf3-2715.gif

Now that I think about it, the only relationships where I actually felt emotionally safe, like I knew what was what, and as though my partner really wanted my body, not just a body, involved sadomasochistic intimacy.

alarms

So, I equate violence with love? Great. Maybe I can work with that association in a healthy way? Maybe it isn’t awful? Argh, maybe my mom is right and masochism is sick for me.

disssected

Note: Not into the vivisection. 😛