I enjoy writing based on relevant and timely personal experience. This past weekend threw me way off balance. It takes me by surprise! I could be going along, making forward progress and then WHAM!, change happens.
I’m gonna throw some love out there. So many of my posts are about dealing with sticky situations that aren’t necessarily positive, so I thought I’d talk about a truly bright part of my life.
My therapist is my devil’s advocate, my friend, my rock, and my stepping stone. I find so much value in my sessions with her and found myself wanting to dive deeper into why I get so much out of these sessions and whether anyone else might feel the same way.
Whether it’s healthy or not, who knows. It works for me. There’s something deep-seeded and primordial that lives within me. And in order to relieve that pressure, I use various forms of therapy to help. One of those forms of therapy is listening to deep, throaty, guitar-heavy, angry, passionate music. It’s like I’m a pressure cooker, and filling my ears with this glorious noise releases the steam.
I’ve been silent for a while. Part of me hates that, part of me knows I needed it. Breaks, regardless of what they are from, are key to a healthy lifestyle for me.
Due to med changes and brain chemistry alignments, my depression has reared it’s ugly head yet again.
This is the kind of depression that I had when I was first diagnosed, and just getting on medication. So, it’s ugly and angry. And all I can do is keep fighting. It’s a silent battle. One I don’t like to talk about because it makes me feel weak. It’s a battle that is raging in my head while on the outside I seem… fine.