Today was a pretty good day. I've been having more of those lately. I like that. I hope the trend continues.
What a pretty good day looks like: I slept and ate more or less enough. I got angry and expressed it, and I didn't let it control me or ruin my day. I felt anxious and asked for reassurance, and got it. I asked for a thing I wanted, a thing I would have been too nervous to ask for not so long ago (and once again I realize just how nervous and anxious I have been, how many things I haven't done or asked for because I was afraid of nameless Bad Things and it seemed safer to tiptoe past), and got it. I was helpful to someone else. I laughed a lot and didn't cry at all.
A week ago or so, I drafted a post where I wrote:
I am desperately in need of perspective right now. People come to me to ask for perspective on their relationship problems and other issues, and I can do that, no problem. But I have no perspective on my own stuff, especially stuff I do. I do a small helpful thing for someone, because I like being helpful, and then I think "aaaa is this all part of my desperate need to be useful" and then I think "no, there must be ways of being helpful and useful that are not about terror of rejection" and then I think "but HOW CAN I KNOW whether I'm doing it the pathological way or the healthy way" and then my brain melts out of my ears. I get annoyed at something and then I think "no wait I'm depressed so I'm probably overreacting" and then I think "no wait I have been suppressing my anger and expressing it is good and healthy" and then I think "but I have no idea what good and healthy ways of expressing anger look like" and then I frantically rub my head like maybe good sense can be generated like static electricity. (So glad I keep my hair too short to pull out in frustration.)
I know this is what therapy is for, and I know my friends and partners and family are there for reality checks. But I'm questioning everything all the time and it's hard, especially when I'm in the middle of an emotional reaction, to ping someone what feels like every five minutes to ask for help. I just have to be patient and ride it out.
I was patient and rode it out, and I think I'm getting my perspective back now that the Zoloft is really kicking in. It's so strange, having one's brain rewired. But it's good and useful, and I'm glad for it.
Now to sleep a whole lot. Tomorrow I think I will buy tights and sausages and toilet paper, and get some editing done, and perhaps read a book, and perhaps watch TV and knit, and hopefully have another pretty good day.