Memories

The thing about memories is, I have very few of them. My memory doesn't extend past the previous day, and sometimes it's even just a few hours. (My sister asked me the other day what I'd had for dinner the previous night, and I had to struggle to come up with it.)

I had 9 months of electroconvulsive therapy (ECT), in an attempt to get out of the most severe, longest-lasting depressive episode of my life. I got 2.5 months of peace before I ended up in the hospital, actively suicidal. Not only did it not work on my depression, it fried my brain. People tell me things, or show me artifacts from places we went together, and I just don't remember.

It's troublesome with work, too. Even if I've done something several times, if there's been a gap since the last time I did it, I'll have to ask to be shown again. It pisses off my boss. Last time, between the time I asked him to help me and the time he responded, I remembered how. But it took me several hours to surface the memory. I know he's busy and he relies on me to do stuff he doesn't have time for, but I can only do what I can do. I try my best in the face of my limitations. The fact is, they're not going away, ever. It frustrates me, too. But I took a crapshoot with my brain and I lost. It's something I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life. If anybody has any ideas for ways around it, let me know.

Le Misanthrope

Yep, that's me.

Misanthropy is defined as the general hatred, distrust or disdain of the human species. I think it's safe to say I detest mankind. People are stupid, and annoying, and a general pain in the ass. I prefer the company of my cat. She can't talk, and she's never abandoned me or let me down. How many people can you say that about?

This is a shit time of year for me. There's Mother's Day (on which I am never acknowledged by my child), and said child's birthday (painful for several reasons), and this year I'm preparing to wave goodbye to one of the only people who has ever understood me enough to help me. I don't know what I'm going to do without him.

I wish I could just find a cave somewhere and hole up. (As long as the cave has wi-fi.)

Wise Mind ACCEPTS....

So I finished a DBT group today. I started in May. I was supposed to be done in early December. My therapist decided I needed to stick around another 2 months. I may never forgive her, just like I'm not going to forgive her for making me come to the damn group THREE DAYS after major surgery "because there will be new people there." Who gives a fuck?! They could have waited a week to meet me and I could have stayed home with my pain pills.

Anyway. I don't know what I really got out of all this. DBT has four components. I can remember three of them. It is FILLED with acronyms that are supposed to help you remember this or that. They don't, at least for me. My therapist says my skills have improved. I don't see how they can have improved when I can't even remember half this shit. If I get really bad, I text her and she tells me what to do. She's all proud of me for not having cut since July or something, but I think about it every single day, so I don't think that's a victory. Last night I was talking to someone I was in the hospital with last year, and he tripped a trigger that still has me over the edge. (Nobody is able to stick a finger in a wound quite like someone you've been in the nut hut with.)

So really, I can't tell you what I just got out of the last 9 months. I guess, as Marsha Linehan would say, I was being willful. I showed up, but I didn't contribute much and all I could think about was how pissed I was to have to be there. I don't think Medicaid got their money's worth.

Those Poles are on to something

There's an old Polish proverb which states, "If 3 people tell you you're drunk, you'd better sit down."

My ass is firmly planted on my couch, because I guess I'm tipsy.

It is now up to 4 people in the past 2 weeks who have told me some variation of "you're brilliant, you just don't know how to apply (whatever it is I'm supposed to be learning)."

First of all, I am clearly not smarter than the average bear. I worked my ass off in college and grad school for my grades -- they didn't come easily, like they do to truly smart people.

Second, I think people get this perception of my "brilliance" because I'm quiet. It seems to create a false aura of intelligence, when what I am is reserved.

But I am feeling plenty stupid because these people, from different walks of my life, are basically telling me I'm an idiot. Or at least that's what it feels like to me.

Sometimes I don't apply my lessons because I don't fucking want to. (I will admit to being very stubborn.) Sometimes it's because I have the memory of a flea (hey, thanks, ECT) and I forget it if I don't write it down. (And then I have to try to decipher my abysmal handwriting.) Sometimes, as far as I can tell, I'm applying them just fine, only to be told I'm not (and am thus an idiot).

I dunno. I *do* know I don't need any help feeling bad about myself. And I don't know what to do about something that is apparently ingrained.

I'll let you know what happens if I sober up.