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Thursday, January 26, 2017

Selfies, self-love, and self-assurance

In one of my sessions with Dr. G, she asked me to list down pleasurable activities, or activities that make me happy. They can be as simple as walking at a leisurely pace while listening to music or eating ice cream. I listed down several, and she told me that I am free to add more activities to the list.

Then, part of my homework is to do at least one pleasurable activity every day. This is on top of keeping a thought journal. Sometimes, I am able to do at least one of those activities that make me happy. But on really bad days, I am not able to. When I'm having a bad day, I feel like every hour is a struggle. And when the clock hits midnight, that's the only time I can breathe because, whew, I was able to survive.

Lately, I've been enjoying taking selfies and posting them on social media. Last week, when I was having another depressive episode and was feeling so insecure, I compiled my best and prettiest Facebook profile pictures and created a collage out of them. Then, I posted this collage on my Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook pages. It was my way of assuring myself that yes, I am pretty and I am enough.

Sounds shallow, doesn't it? But if you are constantly down and insecure, won't you do anything--no matter how shallow it is--to make yourself feel better? I don't mind if people would call me vain or conceited. When I finished that collage, I felt good. I felt great. I felt beautiful. These positive thoughts pulled me out of insecurity.

I've started to see my true self-worth only recently, after countless people have assured me that I have nothing to be insecure of. That I don't have any reason to be insecure of Z. That I am beautiful, smart, and that I am enough. I am not fishing for compliments. I just need to be reminded that I am enough and that I have nothing else to prove.

The other day, I posted a collage of my photos wearing no makeup. It was my response to a challenge posed by an actress here in the Philippines. So there. While I was eating breakfast, I remembered the words of that actress, and decided to do what she said.

At first, I was hesitant. I don't go out without makeup because I don't feel as pretty as I am with one. And I am also scared of bumping into Z and looking plain. Makeup, for me, is more like a shield than it is a mask. It protects me from ugly things that people might see or say about me. It makes me feel armed against my insecurity, my ammunition against Z. But because I have started to realize that I don't need to be better than Z or anyone, I have decided to put my shield down little by little. Hence, the #nomakeup and #nofilter selfies.

When I saw my no-makeup photos, I actually thought I looked nice. I did not look glamorous or great, but I did see that I did not look as bad as I thought I would be. My face was plain and bare--I didn't even wear face powder. But I didn't look horrible. I wasn't ugly. In fact, I did think that those photos were refreshing to see.

Don't get me wrong. I am not bragging. But that #nomakeup challenge made me see that I am now in a safe place so I can now put down my shield. The battle between Z and me (the battle that Z knows nothing about) is over. Or at least, I can now see it ending soon. And it took me countless advice from PM and my friends and three #nomakeup selfies to realize that.

I'll definitely take more selfies because this activity makes me happy. I will take photos of myself wearing my go-to deep red lipstick. I will take photos of myself wearing simple makeup. I will also take photos of myself wearing no makeup at all. I won't post all of these on social media, but I will make a security blanket out of them. And whenever I feel down and insecure, I will look at these photos to make myself see and feel, again and again, that I have nothing to worry about.  

Friday, January 20, 2017

A new way of thinking

I thought Dr. G wouldn't start tapering down the dosage of my meds because of the depressive episode I had this week.

I was wrong.

And in the history of being wrong, this is the time when I am happy that I was wrong. Dr. G started to taper down my dosage of Lamotrigine (anticonvulsant).

In this post, I wrote about my depressive episode that started last Monday and ended on Wednesday night. But after talking about it with PM and my friends, I stopped feeling bad and I started to calm down. When I was already in a calm state, I looked back at the events and realized that these feelings and thoughts were just cognitive distortions.

Looking at them now, I can say that I am starting to get better in dealing with these kinds of thoughts. These thoughts and feelings are not wrong. I have reasons why I came up with these. But cognitive behavior therapy (CBT) has been teaching me how to see things from another perspective and has been helping me change my thinking patterns.

Whenever I have a depressive episode, these come in succession: sad thoughts, followed by insecurity. It's as if they form a package deal. Z is the strongest trigger of my insecurity (although she doesn't know this and this isn't her own doing. It's not her fault). And when I get insecure of her, I feel small; I feel that I am not smart; I feel that I am not talented; and I feel that I have to prove to people that I am the better choice. I feel these things. These are constantly in my mind.

But do I have concrete evidence that support these thoughts? Did any of PM's fraternity brods, sorority sisses, friends, family, and relatives tell him (or me) that I am not a good choice? The answer is no. So why do I need to convince them? As what my friend Dr. T told me, the only people that I need to convince are PM and myself. PM doesn't need any more convincing, so it is just me that I need to convince.

Putting it that way makes me see that there is nothing for me to be insecure of. Friends of mine, especially those who know Z, have been telling me that for quite a time already. But sometimes, I fail to remind myself of that. I fail to see the qualities that make me unique. All I can see are the things she can do that I can't. I dwell on the past even if the present is showing me something beautiful. Now, I can appreciate myself better. I recognize that I am also good at what I do, and that makes me smart, too.

CBT has also taught me to stop feeling bad about things that I cannot control. Negative things happen, and they happen not because of a fault of mine. Because of CBT, I have stopped blaming myself for things that I cannot control. Anyway, blaming myself won't change these negative things. It won't make the bus go faster if I am running late. It will not turn back time and let me change what I did or what other people did. Self-blame would just make me feel bad about myself and would send me into a downward spiral. It's not helpful at all.

Seeing my good qualities and stopping the self-blame are I guess the biggest proof that I am improving. Maybe this is what Dr. G was waiting to hear from me, that's why she decided that we can start tapering down the dosage of of one of one my meds. She asked me which of these two do I want to taper down: Quetiapine (antipsychotic) or Lamotrigine (anticonvulsant). I chose Lamotrigine. I would've wanted to choose Quetiapine because it is the most expensive medicine among the three that I am taking. But it plays a bigger role in keeping me stable. Plus, it helps me sleep, so I chose Lamotrigine instead.

I don't know how many CBT sessions I have left. I will see Dr. G again in February. I am hoping that on my next session, we will taper down the dosage of Lamotrigine even more. And if we can taper down the dosage of my two other medicines, well, that would be even better.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

In and out

This Friday, I will be seeing Dr. G again. And I am afraid that this won't be the time for her to taper down the dosage of my meds. I am looking forward to that, but I guess it's not happening soon. Not this Friday nor anytime soon.

Last Monday, I had another depressive episode, triggered again by Z. She didn't do anything in particular, but it was she--or should I say, thoughts of her--that triggered my depression. Of course, this is another cognitive distortion, but once again, I got affected by her. I also fell from our bunk bed (I occupy the top part) and got a bruise on my arm; I literally ran to catch a taxi on my way to my job interview; and I couldn't tell how my job interview went. It was, indeed, a series of mishaps.

Last Tuesday's events didn't help either. There was an event that PM attended. I found out the Z was also there. I hate it when I am not there with PM when she is, so I cried a lot last Tuesday. I was so upset. I was already having PMS, and all these piled on top of that. It was too much for me to handle.

But thankfully, after a few hours and after talking to PM and a few of my friends, I felt better. In fact, I felt great. It was as if someone flipped a switch and voila! Everything was right again in the world. I was even able to finish the fifth chapter of the novel I am working on.

That's the thing with me. I tend to linger more in my depressed state, but when I feel great, I have a lot of energy. It's not necessarily physical energy, but more of mental energy. My mind is in overdrive. I am able to suddenly come up with ideas. Most of these are ideas for creative pursuits, like for a novel, a blog post, a poem, or even a song. In fact, over the weekend, I started writing a song.

Some people who have manic episodes do things that are out of control. They go on shopping sprees and max out their credit cards all in one day, or think they are gods or goddesses, or engage in dangerous behavior like driving with rage. I haven't done these things nor have I experienced being in this kind of high, but I also watch out for these symptoms. Taking 300mg of antipsychotic (Quetiapine) probably keeps me from having these kinds of episodes.

Given all these, I can say that I come in and out of a depressive episode. It's always a seesaw of feeling great and of being down and upset. These emotions dance with each other, and they alternate in taking the lead. My homework is to identify when an episode is imminent (especially if it is a depressive episode) and take precautionary measures. When I feel down, I listen to upbeat music to help lift my mood. I always listen to music when I walk outside, and I make sure that the songs I am listening to are happy and energetic. I don't have sad or emo songs in my phone. Those will just pull me down.

So that's the thing with shifting moods and having depressive episodes. I need to recognize that I am having an episode. I need to identify what cognitive distortion I am having at that moment, so I will not blame myself for things I cannot control. This is easier said than done. As my friend Dr. T always tells me, I should be patient with myself. These things come and go, and patterns of thinking aren't changed overnight. I am a work in progress.

I have seen some improvements in my mood and in myself in the past few months. But because of what happened last Monday and Tuesday, I now feel that those improvements have been canceled out. Again, as my friend Dr. T always tells me, if I fall down, I should forgive myself, then stand up and try again. Forgiving myself is, I guess, the key to being able to stand again. Self-blame won't get my anywhere.

I'm looking forward to my session this Friday. I always look forward to my sessions. It will be another hour of sharing and learning how to deal with my moods and emotions. Hopefully, I will exit her clinic calm and collected and not a disaster.

Thursday, January 5, 2017

I think I'm fat

I'm not the type who is conscious of her figure. Partly because I have a relatively fast metabolism. And really, eating what you like is probably one of the most glorious feelings in the world. I've always believed that you should dress according to your figure, instead of altering your figure to fit into the clothes you like. For me, there's always a way to accentuate your best features, and the clothes who do that are the clothes that are perfect for you.

I've held onto this belief for a very long time. Until I saw that my lower abdomen seems to be getting bigger and that I am gaining weight.

No, I am not pregnant or anything. Just getting...fat? Am I getting fat?

I don't live a sedentary lifestyle. I walk a lot. I jog when I can. I don't drink sodas, but I love eating carbs because I feel weak without them. I eat what I want with confidence because I know I will be able to burn those calories. I eat fruits, and I drink green tea especially when I ate a lot.

But last week, when I was trying out swimsuits because I wanted to buy a new one, I saw that I didn't fit into my regular size anymore. My size in this particular swimming and sportswear brand is large (they have small sizes), but now, it isn't. I am now an XL.

It's not supposed to be a big deal. After all, the jump  from large to XL isn't really a big one. But I am worried, and my number one reason for being so isn't even health-related. It is this: Z leans on the chubby side, and I don't want to look like her. I don't want to be like her.

Now, brace yourself for another Z-related post.

I've written before that I am no longer as insecure of Z as I was before. That I have learned to love and appreciate myself more. But now, I am afraid that I will be chubby like her, I don't want that. I want to be the prettier and slimmer one.

I sound ridiculous, yes? I think so, too. But I can't help it. And I can't believe I'm saying this. I can't believe I'm feeling this.

My bf PM and I decided to cut back on our rice and junkfood intake this year. We'll still eat rice (of course!), but we'll say no to a second cup. We also vowed to consume less chips and go for peanuts instead when watching movies. And we will exercise more (we do jog at least once a week. We'll keep that up and add more activities to our exercise routine.

PM keeps on telling me that I am not like Z and that I do not look like her. And that I won't be as chubby as she is. And that I am prettier. But again, when I look at myself in the mirror, I am inclined to believe otherwise. I look huge next to my petite sister, even when she told me that it's because my bones are bigger than hers. I am a bit taller, too. I have wider hips and bigger thighs and calves.

This seems petty compared to what I have been through with my depressive episodes and anxiety attacks. But I guess this falls into one of the cognitive distortions I am guilty of having. I don't know which one though.

I don't want to be like this. I don't want to feel bad about myself just because I am not (or no longer am) skinny. Ultimately, I should exercise and eat right because I want to be healthy. I should do it for myself and not because I don't want to be like Z (in fact, Z shouldn't be in the picture anymore). No one is complaining about my weight or my figure. I am the only one. So why should it be an issue?