I’m Sorry Reader….
….but tonight I’m cleanin’ out my notebook
Note to readers: I’ve said this a few times before but, with the number of new subscribers I’ve picked up lately, it’s worth repeating: I’m not an expert — I’m learning, so you should take what I write as a chronicle of my experiences, not credible advice or information coming from a mental health professional. More info.
I carry a little notebook with me pretty much everywhere I go, and I nearly filled one during my time at McLean Hospital earlier this month. A lot of the things I jotted down during my 10-day hospitalization have, or will, become essays on Fun With Bipolar.
But others are just tidbits — interesting in their own right, but probably not yet ready for the full thousand-word treatment. So in no particular order, here are some of the ones that stuck out when I reviewed them over the weekend:
“This session about happiness is poorly timed given how unhappy I am right now.”
The daily goals patients set each morning seem simple if you’re an outsider, and that’s what makes it so heartbreaking when they report coming up short each night. A common daily goal was "not take a nap.” One patient set it — in fell short — almost every day.
“Sleep is an escape,” she said at the wrap-up session on my first night. But Nas said sleep is the cousin of death, I thought.
Day 1: Everyone here is as terrified as I am. Everyone here wants to go home. Everyone here want to be “normal.”
I don’t have to solve everything all at once. I have bad habits, and I’m learning about a lot of good habits, that impact my mental health. The doctor on my care team, for example, said “bad sleep=bad mood” and I’m particularly susceptible to bad sleep. So I can work on having better sleep habits, but I don’t have to eliminate all the bad and adopt all the good at once.
If I can’t drop a bad habit just yet, I can adopt a good one. I can go slow and work incrementally. I can start with sleep, then work on getting at least some exercise on every day. I don’t have to meditate six times a day when doing it just once or twice will help.
Dr. Corso suggested trying to tackle one simple task in each of five areas each day:
Mastery: do one thing so it’s done and out of the way (make bed, calls, emails, laundry, etc.)
Treatment: take your meds on time and the treatment task is done.
Pleasure task: do it even if you’re not in a place to take pleasure in it (i.e. music, hobby, etc.)
Self care: Sleep, diet, exercise. Your cardiologist may say you need 30 minutes of exercise every day, but the psychiatrist said 10 minutes of moving outside is more than enough for mental health.
Do the best you can.
Social: take steps to be with other people. Can be as simple as saying hello as smiling to people on street. Create a structure in my life where I engage with the community.
“The above is the foundation for moving forward,” Dr. Corso said. “Create a structure, keep it simple.”
Juan has been my roommate for a night-and-a-half, and we have yet to speak beyond greeting grunts. Then this morning he was talkative from the second I got out of bed.
“Good morning, Papi! It’s coffee time.”
Then a few hours later I saw him rolling a suitcase down the hall and waving his good byes. I guess I’d be happy about the start of a new day at McLean is I was getting discharged.
I always seem “happier” than the other people in these tough places and dire circumstances. I make jokes – I’m okay! – and downplay the severity. As if I’m trying to say “Things are bad but at least I’m not as bad as you.”
Yet there’s a constant conversation debate brawl in my head: I need help vs. I don’t have time. I need help vs. I don’t know how to ask for/accept help. Both sides are real. I’m moving forward in a rocking boat, and it’s hard to keep the boat balanced, but struggling is better than getting tipped over. The boat is going to tip if I make everyone else’s emergency more important than my well-being.
From the “managing anxiety” group:
Anticipatory anxiety is the worst kind of anxiety. When we’re avoiding something, we’re relieving ourselves of something causing anxiety. But lasting relief does not come from avoidance.
What’s one thing I can do today to reduce anxiety? It won’t solve the problem entirely, but it takes me out of the avoidance pattern that makes things worse. One email, one shower, etc. is moving forward. Loops don’t have to be endless.
“Acceptance doesn’t have to mean approval” (I found this on a page with no context, but it still hits home).
And another one with no context in my notebook (or at least no context offered by my awful handwriting): “Don’t confuse what you do to achieve the value with the value itself.”
Being short-sighted is a symptom of massive depression (i.e. “I’m never going to feel better/things are always going to suck”/etc.). I knew that already, but it’s always good to remind yourself that when you fall into all-or-nothing thinking, you’re falling into the scary place.
There’s a lot of irony in spending a week at McLean Hospital thinking about mindfulness and being present and living in the moment, then being told you’re going to get discharged on Friday. How do you stay in the moment when all you can think about is a decent – no, make that decadent -- meal with your family, being outside with your dogs and that pristine Byron in the humidor?
What kind of get well card do you get for someone in a psychiatric hospital?
Kudos for reviewing the notes and sharing (and not making a big deal about packaging these tidbits for your readers). Thanks for sharing.
Follow: pitchers and catchers report in a month.