Oh holy God. I posted on Twitter last night that if I have to see 2am again without it being because I am out closing the bars, I'm going to lose it. That feels pretty accurate. I have been waking up around 1:30am for weeks now, excepting the nights when I've taken Ambien, and not being able to get back to sleep until after 3am. By the time I get back to sleep, I am able to get into my REM cycle right about when I have to wake up for school or work. It's really frustrating.
Last night I went back to sleep and dreamed about Brian. I fucking hate dreaming about him. In this dream, he and I had been corresponding by email, about both of us having an upcoming trip to Greece. I was supposed to be going for a wedding I was in, and he was going for a band or writing thing. We agreed to meet up. In fact, I'm about 50% certain that we were going to share a hotel room and all that means. I got on the plane and was really apprehensive. In the dream, I was going mostly for him, and the wedding was sort of a convenience. I got there, and got dressed and made up for the wedding and was participating in the before-wedding pictures when I texted him and he walked around the street corner. I was elated to see him. I'm not really sure what exactly happened after that, except that he and I were talking to another girl who was in the wedding and he said something about spending a nice evening with "his girl" and taking her to a nice dinner, and the girl we were talking to assumed he was talking about me, as did I. She asked how long we'd been dating, and he stopped and said, "Oh, I'm engaged to someone else." I was floored and really mad, and couldn't even look at him. I again am not sure what happened after that but I remember that Kate was also in the wedding, and the girl Brian and I had been talking to was dating someone that Kate had dated before. The girl found out that Kate had dated her boyfriend and got really pissed at Kate for not saying anything, and for still being friendly with her ex. At one point, though, Brian and I brought it to the girl's attention that he and I weren't together anymore, he was marrying someone else, but we were still able to be platonic friends. Then I woke up.
I was obviously really into the dream when I woke up because I can remember so many vivid tiny details even after everything I did today. Dreams like this really upset me emotionally because they really screw with my perceptions of reality. I wake up and it's like I've lost him - or someone - all over again. I've said it 100 times that I am well aware that the Brian in my dreams is not the same Brian who is out in the world right now. It's been 5 and a half years, for Christ's sake. He's as different from who he was as I am from who I was. But in these dreams, it's as though there is relatively nothing different, aside from the fact that it's always a shock to me that he's with Bryn. I really hate it.
What I think helped get me through the day today was knowing that I was seeing a therapist. I had a lot of trouble waking up, and seriously considered just going back to bed and waking up just to go to therapy and to lab, but by the time I got out of bed I was awake enough to start getting ready and just forced myself to keep moving. So I went to classes this morning, sat and talked to my class buddy, and even found both my morning classes to be pretty interesting. In Judaism we discussed our experiences with the Rosh Hashannah services we attended and I learned a lot. It was at the end of Social Psych that I realized that I hadn't brought my running shoes with me to school (they weren't even in the car, I'd left them at home altogether) and realized that I couldn't do any kind of exercise without them. After Judaism I sat outside in the sunshine for about half an hour and studied Anatomy. I left early for my appointment with the therapist, intending to talk to someone about the appointment with the nutritionist I am supposed to make. I had to fill out some paperwork about my eating habits and what I feel might be a possible eating disorder or an image disorder, and went down to therapy. I'm well aware of what goes on during the first therapy session with a new therapist, which is usually a really shallow overview of my mental health history, a little family history and my current symptoms. I'm such a talker that it takes the entire 45 minutes or hour to get through that little bit. I liked the therapist I had been assigned (and to give credit where it's due, the girl who scheduled me a couple weeks ago worked hard to pair me with a therapist that would fit my schedule and my illness), except that it turns out she worked with my mom before she began her doctoral work at CU, and they know each other. Generally when this is the case, the therapist is supposed to pass me on to someone else, but since she and my mom no longer work together or see each other, she said it was up to me if I wanted to change therapists. I really don't - I like her, and I think she could be helpful, and in all honesty I don't want to go through another initial consultation with another therapist because that will just put me that much further behind on whatever work I need to do - but my mom is pretty uncomfortable with her being my therapist so I think I'm going to have to change. Which is disappointing. I do understand how my mom must be uncomfortable with my seeing her, though. My mom doesn't deserve to have all our family's dirty laundry aired to someone who talks to her coworkers and such. I must be really tightly wound, though, because in just this first meeting, I cried about some of the things I had to talk with her about. Which upsets me, even now, because I really wanted to think I was in control of my emotions.
Anyway, I am glad that I got the ball rolling with the mental health clinic on campus and at least got in to see someone today. I finished the session not wanting to go to my lab AT ALL, but I forced myself to go anyway. I'm glad I did because I really feel like I solidified my knowledge of the names of all the muscles and their locations. Now all I need to do is get a grasp of the origin, insertion and action and make sure that I study the joint capsule anatomy and the microscopic muscle histology and I'm set. I do feel really good about my understanding of the muscle names and locations, though. I was waaaaaaay less certain the last time I took this lab and did horribly on the test. I am making it a point to do well this time. What I like about the lab is that I am not afraid to get involved and ask questions and I'm even in a study group with some of my classmates to make sure we're all ready. It's kind of wonderful.
Although I didn't get to work out today, I'm completely exhausted. From lack of sleep and from emotional stress. I'm so tired of being emotionally stressed out, but I'm seeing a psychiatrist next week for my med eval and am going to continue therapy on a weekly basis for as long as I feel that I need it. As much as I feel like a failure for needing to do this, I know it will help.
As for the nutritionist appointment, I'm starting to accept the possibility that I have an unhealthy body image and relationship with food. It was something that the therapist sort of caught and focused on a little more than I thought was necessary, but she probably also saw that I'd just filled out the nutritionist questionnaire with some information that might be kind of troubling.
And tomorrow will by my last post of the year. I'm sorry in advance for how much it's going to disappoint as a closing for a year's worth of thoughts about my feelings. Maybe that will make a good transition to making my blog not be so depressing and serious.
Also I am going to cut swoopy bangs soon so my forehead doesn't look so huge. But I might wait until school is out so I still don't have to do my hair those two days every week. Because I don't do anything to it now except pull it back sufficiently enough to last through two classes, the gym, and a lab.
I need to go to bed now. I took some Tylenol PM to try to get me all the way though the night without waking up. We'll see. I have my sports medicine doc appointment on Thursday so it's going to be another non-two hour gym session I can feel guilty about. But then maybe I can alleviate that guilt in therapy next week.
Yay mental illness!
Last night I went back to sleep and dreamed about Brian. I fucking hate dreaming about him. In this dream, he and I had been corresponding by email, about both of us having an upcoming trip to Greece. I was supposed to be going for a wedding I was in, and he was going for a band or writing thing. We agreed to meet up. In fact, I'm about 50% certain that we were going to share a hotel room and all that means. I got on the plane and was really apprehensive. In the dream, I was going mostly for him, and the wedding was sort of a convenience. I got there, and got dressed and made up for the wedding and was participating in the before-wedding pictures when I texted him and he walked around the street corner. I was elated to see him. I'm not really sure what exactly happened after that, except that he and I were talking to another girl who was in the wedding and he said something about spending a nice evening with "his girl" and taking her to a nice dinner, and the girl we were talking to assumed he was talking about me, as did I. She asked how long we'd been dating, and he stopped and said, "Oh, I'm engaged to someone else." I was floored and really mad, and couldn't even look at him. I again am not sure what happened after that but I remember that Kate was also in the wedding, and the girl Brian and I had been talking to was dating someone that Kate had dated before. The girl found out that Kate had dated her boyfriend and got really pissed at Kate for not saying anything, and for still being friendly with her ex. At one point, though, Brian and I brought it to the girl's attention that he and I weren't together anymore, he was marrying someone else, but we were still able to be platonic friends. Then I woke up.
I was obviously really into the dream when I woke up because I can remember so many vivid tiny details even after everything I did today. Dreams like this really upset me emotionally because they really screw with my perceptions of reality. I wake up and it's like I've lost him - or someone - all over again. I've said it 100 times that I am well aware that the Brian in my dreams is not the same Brian who is out in the world right now. It's been 5 and a half years, for Christ's sake. He's as different from who he was as I am from who I was. But in these dreams, it's as though there is relatively nothing different, aside from the fact that it's always a shock to me that he's with Bryn. I really hate it.
What I think helped get me through the day today was knowing that I was seeing a therapist. I had a lot of trouble waking up, and seriously considered just going back to bed and waking up just to go to therapy and to lab, but by the time I got out of bed I was awake enough to start getting ready and just forced myself to keep moving. So I went to classes this morning, sat and talked to my class buddy, and even found both my morning classes to be pretty interesting. In Judaism we discussed our experiences with the Rosh Hashannah services we attended and I learned a lot. It was at the end of Social Psych that I realized that I hadn't brought my running shoes with me to school (they weren't even in the car, I'd left them at home altogether) and realized that I couldn't do any kind of exercise without them. After Judaism I sat outside in the sunshine for about half an hour and studied Anatomy. I left early for my appointment with the therapist, intending to talk to someone about the appointment with the nutritionist I am supposed to make. I had to fill out some paperwork about my eating habits and what I feel might be a possible eating disorder or an image disorder, and went down to therapy. I'm well aware of what goes on during the first therapy session with a new therapist, which is usually a really shallow overview of my mental health history, a little family history and my current symptoms. I'm such a talker that it takes the entire 45 minutes or hour to get through that little bit. I liked the therapist I had been assigned (and to give credit where it's due, the girl who scheduled me a couple weeks ago worked hard to pair me with a therapist that would fit my schedule and my illness), except that it turns out she worked with my mom before she began her doctoral work at CU, and they know each other. Generally when this is the case, the therapist is supposed to pass me on to someone else, but since she and my mom no longer work together or see each other, she said it was up to me if I wanted to change therapists. I really don't - I like her, and I think she could be helpful, and in all honesty I don't want to go through another initial consultation with another therapist because that will just put me that much further behind on whatever work I need to do - but my mom is pretty uncomfortable with her being my therapist so I think I'm going to have to change. Which is disappointing. I do understand how my mom must be uncomfortable with my seeing her, though. My mom doesn't deserve to have all our family's dirty laundry aired to someone who talks to her coworkers and such. I must be really tightly wound, though, because in just this first meeting, I cried about some of the things I had to talk with her about. Which upsets me, even now, because I really wanted to think I was in control of my emotions.
Anyway, I am glad that I got the ball rolling with the mental health clinic on campus and at least got in to see someone today. I finished the session not wanting to go to my lab AT ALL, but I forced myself to go anyway. I'm glad I did because I really feel like I solidified my knowledge of the names of all the muscles and their locations. Now all I need to do is get a grasp of the origin, insertion and action and make sure that I study the joint capsule anatomy and the microscopic muscle histology and I'm set. I do feel really good about my understanding of the muscle names and locations, though. I was waaaaaaay less certain the last time I took this lab and did horribly on the test. I am making it a point to do well this time. What I like about the lab is that I am not afraid to get involved and ask questions and I'm even in a study group with some of my classmates to make sure we're all ready. It's kind of wonderful.
Although I didn't get to work out today, I'm completely exhausted. From lack of sleep and from emotional stress. I'm so tired of being emotionally stressed out, but I'm seeing a psychiatrist next week for my med eval and am going to continue therapy on a weekly basis for as long as I feel that I need it. As much as I feel like a failure for needing to do this, I know it will help.
As for the nutritionist appointment, I'm starting to accept the possibility that I have an unhealthy body image and relationship with food. It was something that the therapist sort of caught and focused on a little more than I thought was necessary, but she probably also saw that I'd just filled out the nutritionist questionnaire with some information that might be kind of troubling.
And tomorrow will by my last post of the year. I'm sorry in advance for how much it's going to disappoint as a closing for a year's worth of thoughts about my feelings. Maybe that will make a good transition to making my blog not be so depressing and serious.
Also I am going to cut swoopy bangs soon so my forehead doesn't look so huge. But I might wait until school is out so I still don't have to do my hair those two days every week. Because I don't do anything to it now except pull it back sufficiently enough to last through two classes, the gym, and a lab.
I need to go to bed now. I took some Tylenol PM to try to get me all the way though the night without waking up. We'll see. I have my sports medicine doc appointment on Thursday so it's going to be another non-two hour gym session I can feel guilty about. But then maybe I can alleviate that guilt in therapy next week.
Yay mental illness!
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