Email to my Psychiatrist

(Written in September 2009)
I’m doing very badly.

My sleep was broken last night.  This has been a pattern lately: I wake up at 4 or 5, go back to bed with a CD and do my breath exercise (which I also do when I’m first in bed).  I go to sleep, but then wake up at the end of the CD.  I play it again, or put on another one, sleep and wake again at the end.  It’s occurred to me that I might try putting the CD on repeat.  I’m still taking .25 mg ativan at night.

This morning I feel depressed and scared and despairing.  Part of it is feeling like nothing I do is working.  Not knowing what to do is a major trigger for me.

Other possible triggers:
1)  I’m angry at myself for not being able to get off ativan.
2)  I haven’t seen any of my support people for over a week, I sent out an email asking for help yesterday, and hadn’t heard anything last night, which triggers the fear that they are angry at me for getting depressed again.  (I did hear from two of them this morning.)
3) I read a book, actually a couple of weeks ago now, a fictional account of Katie, a foster child, by Dan Hughes.  Katie was neglected and abused, and her behavior was so difficult that she went thru 3 foster homes in a couple of years.  Finally she was connected with a therapist and a foster mother who knew how to help her, it took a special brand of “tough love”.  I started reading compulsively and began to feel very upset, but couldn’t name my feelings, just they were huge.  Finally I got to anger because I had been so GOOD, and nobody ever rescued me from my abusive family, nobody ever tried to really understand what was going on with me.  So I suspect that whole issue may be still reverberating at a deep level.  I’m hoping to be able to work on that today with Caryn.
4) I’ve been working on a project of feeling good about myself.  I took positive passages from my journals of the last four years and put them all into one notebook which I was reading every day.  It’s possible that feeling so depressed now is a kind of “backlash”.  The thing I remember my mother saying most was “Don’t think you’re so great.”

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