“31 Journaling Prompts for Building Greater Self-Reliance” (v2)

I attempted to start a post series back in April of 2018, based on a 31-day journaling prompt collection from the Art of Manliness (AoM). I managed to get only one day pumped out.

I’m trying again. but this time, with success! and you can follow below.

James’s Musings on Self-Reliance
Day 01: Wed 04/03/2019
Day 02: Sat 04/06/2019
Day 03: Wed 04/10/2019
Day 04: Wed 04/17/2019
Day 05: Sat 04/20/2019
Day 06:
Day 07:
Day 08:
Day 09:
Day 10:
Day 11:
Day 12:
Day 13:
Day 14:
Day 15:
Day 16:
Day 17:
Day 18:
Day 19:
Day 20:
Day 21:
Day 22:
Day 23:
Day 24:
Day 25:
Day 26:
Day 27:
Day 28:
Day 29:
Day 30:
Day 31:

if you’ve forgotten what exactly it was about, feel free to keep reading for the introductory excerpt from the AoM piece itself.

Continue reading
Advertisements

the all-consuming Darkness

I’ve been on antipsychotics for a while now. lithium, to be precise. lots of it. and it works! my anxiety is lower, my compulsions quieter, my obsessions weaker, and my hypomanias basically non-existent. so yeah, we got the Manic portion of things mostly under control.

but we haven’t figured out my Depression. it’s still all-consuming, a shroud that covers everything, even the things I once loved or enjoyed.

things are not fun anymore, for example. and I don’t even want to try to have fun anymore; it’s exhausting.

I had a lot of free time this past Saturday. so what did I do?– sleep. for ~15hrs. sure, I know part of it was actually needing the sleep for physical reasons. but I know the difference between that and sleep as escapism. and most of that was the latter.

and though it may be psychosomatic and even self-fulfilling, I firmly believe that I will never get better until I GTFO of this fucking tundra.

“go all Henry David Thoreau up in here”

I think I need a vaccay from people. like, from all humans. even Brian. go all Henry David Thoreau up in here or something.

I used to camp all the time. year round, and as much as possible. I would volunteer with organizations too. a lot of my time used to go to volunteerism.

I mean, I have a pessimistic, natural inclination to assume the worst about a given individual. but I used to at least allow them enough room to hang themselves. these days, I can hardly wait to pull a handle of judgment to drop people to a doom they possibly didn’t rightly deserve.

and those aforementioned communes with nature or surrounding myself with heartfelt people — they would reset the innate hatred I have within. they would fill me with beauty, awe, and hope. and then I had the energy to go tackle the harsh reality that is life.

but with no vacations to remind myself what matters, with no groups or friends also struggling to focus on the light, I feel … I just feel hopeless, adrift. like I’m just barely staying afloat in life instead enjoying the waves at a beach.

I will make it a point to find a volunteer group again. I will make it a point to go camping again soon (once it fucking warms a little, because I am a pussy in the cold). and I will make it a point to write again … even if there is no one remaining to read anything.

Building Greater Self-Reliance 01: My Own Pursuits

31 Journaling Prompts for Building Greater Self-Reliance:  Day 01

“The primary cause of disorder in ourselves is the seeking of reality promised by another.” ―Jiddu Krishnamurti

What is something you have or are pursuing, that other people say is worthwhile, but you haven’t found valuable? Do you continue to pursue it based on the promises of others?

Continue reading

telling your boss about your mental illness

I found this entry of New York Times‘s “The Ethicist” interesting: should you tell your boss about your mental illness.  (copy-pasted below for your convenience.)

Continue reading

Muted

I used to feel like I had a lot to say.  I used to think my words were valuable and beneficial to others.  that I was a grand writer with wonderful skill sets.  that my writings would change the life of at least one person (ideally in a positive way).

alas.  I don’t think those things anymore.  I’m not special anymore.  I’ve let myself become normal and boring.  I have a home with a boyfriend, a droning office job, a car that runs, etc.  sure, these are great things for me to have.  but they make for a boring a typical life.

what happened to my life of living in a barn?  or when I was a security guard?  or when I wasn’t medicated?  what about when I used to go on adventure runs all the time?  when I had two jobs and was in school for 21 hours in a single semester?  or when I was changing my hair colour to everything under the sun?  or when I worse safety pens all over my body?

what happened to that creative, exciting lass?  where did she go?  where did the Prince to all the ladies go?  where did the Greatest run away to?  the Shinigami?   the Dark Poet?  where is that crazy, hyperactive, over-achieving, all-power tomboy?

I miss the persons that used to live inside my head.  there were several of them.  and they would take charge and be Me for a while.  but now it’s just one voice I hear — my own depressing lull.

nothing matters to me anymore.  I don’t care about anything.  I don’t feel for much of anything.  my life is so Muted.  I’m Dead inside.

BPD, DBT, and bears — OH MY!

so a doctor finally sees it.  I’ve only been saying it for how many years now?  but finally, a specialist recognizes it – I have Borderline Personality Disorder.

it’s a breath of relief to be able to say that with more certainty, with a clinician’s loose opinion to back me up.

it doesn’t change who I am or how I function.  but it does mean that we may attack the Noise in my head in a different manner.

my psychiatrist wants me to start DBT – Dialectical Behavior Therapy.  basically training to rewire how your brain thinks, focusing strongly on things like mindfulness, interpersonal effectiveness, distress tolerance, and (what I really need help with) emotion regulation.

more details on this later, including what exactly Borderline is.

stay tuned!