Mindfulness (Photo credit: Cathdew)
I used to be a part of a group at the other mental health office — DBT, dialectical behavioral therapy. It’s a type of cognitive behavioral therapy intended to stop people from doing self destructive things. I’m thinking maybe it’s time to get back to it. There’s a major emphasis on acceptance and being mindful. These are things I desperately lack. I lacked mindfulness when I tripped over a bottle and fractured my ankle. I lack acceptance of the basic facts about my mental health — the treatment, the best way to work with it, the need to accept the limitations inherent. I lack acceptance often of my baby’s adoption. It feels unjust although it is very possibly the right thing. I lack acceptance of some of my own strengths, which causes me to throw away some of the possibilities of achievement inherent in them.
It’s time to reclaim myself again. I’ve allowed myself to languish too long. It’s true I’ve needed to recover from my fall. The fall was a symptom, though. The way I’ve been acting, I know I’ve been manic or hypomanic recently. I know Chris hasn’t labeled it as such, but it is blatant to anyone who would pay attention.
I think it’s just been in the past two weeks.
I have a doctor’s appointment this coming week, I believe. I’ll confirm it. I’ll make sure I can go. And I’ll ask the questions necessary. . . set up transportation or see if I’m able to get on the bus safely.
I’m going to be venturing out on my own just down the street with my crutch for the first time since I fell. I had been nervous because I didn’t want to fall again. I kind of stayed home. I think, actually, perhaps I may have made only one other trip. I forget if I did or not. I know I’ve gone down to the store with Chris a couple times. This weekend, he helped me get to the DMV. He also helped me around the house.
My mood was elevated, and I was overly angry at times. I was just lecturing. I’ve also been really serious and intense. I think these are symptoms, maybe irritability. I would have to verify, but I really think so.
Anyway, I’ll do what I have to do this week.
My house is stocked with healthy food because a church friend, who’s also the minister’s wife, gave me a ride over to the store again. She’s really sweet. They’re moving because her husband didn’t seem to find his true passion with this congregation. I guess sometimes that’s just how it is.
I’d like to get to church for a little while before they leave. I’d like to move up in my independence, maybe drive myself there. I need to find some kind of efficient way to get over there. I’ll work it out. I feel it’s an important part of my life.
Next month, April, is a big month in my life always. It used to be the end of the year was somehow significant because my birthday was in Christmas time and because my grandfather’s was just around Thanksgiving. The whole season was packed more than anything. Now April is my wedding anniversary (10th), my father’s birthday — God rest his soul (5th), and my son’s birthday (24th). Last year, on my father’s birthday, my son was taken out of my custody. That was the last day that I cared for my son in my own home.
Is it tragic? I could say it’s part of what I had a feeling would happen for some time before it did happen. I just had an intuition that this was not going to be an easy road, that there would be roadblocks, and probably it would not go smoothly.
When I found out I would be pregnant, I was asked whether I wanted to keep the baby, put him up for adoption or — terminate. I knew for a fact I would not terminate him; that much was certain. I’m pro-choice in general, but I knew I would not kill my own. I remember lying on the hospital bed where I was when I found out. I just stayed in bed and got up to walk around, drink chamomile tea a bit. I don’t remember if they removed all my meds or not. All I know is that I accepted it. I accepted the plan that I felt was not completely my own but that had been a choice I made one way or another.
I am so glad I accepted that. I am so, so glad. I would never have had any part of this road change other than maybe the fact that David had to go through so much medical strife when he was first born, in the first six months of life. I would always have chosen to give birth, to raise him if I could, and if it was not workable, if he was not getting what he could from me — I knew I would have to let go and let him have the life he deserves, the best life possible. This is what I’ve always known deep down, and this is why I made that initial choice.
Now I know. I know I made the right decision, and I know that everything is for the best. It’s amazing to say that at long last. I just know everything will be fine. And I’m grateful, so very much.