This Week in Mentalists – The Hurrah We’ve Almost Survived January Edition

Ruby from My Thirteenth Sad Day here, wanting to celebrate the fact that we’ve almost got through the potentially bleak month of January. Maybe not entirely unscathed, but survived it nonetheless….

Rebecca Green

Firstly, Penney at The Healing Book has been reading up on anger and its relation to self-dimishment:

I find the “the fear of extinction” to be an interesting concept, and a brilliant choice of words used by the author. It’s exactly right. The fear of being nothing, of being devoid, of completely going away, of not being of any importance.

(How often was the message to me that I wasn’t important? That I didn’t matter? Of course, I have underlying anger. Of course, I do. I’m hurt, I’m saddened, my development was stunted. I lost time, I lost myself, I lost years of my life, my sanity.)
The author uses the words “self-dimishment” to make a point that isn’t sound: that anger is a choice, and that you make yourself feel angry.
The truth is, how you respond to anger is a choice, but the act of you feeling angry isn’t a choice.

Nataly has also been thinking about anger, as a result of reading about describing emotions. This has caused her to think about how much she hides her emotions:

I know they said “hide”and that doesn’t mean they are jealous of people who don’t feel at all…but I think my issues stem from learning to “hide” my feelings from such a young age that now…I can’t even find them myself sometimes. I don’t want to not feel and I don’t want to hide. I am jealous of the other side…but I think I can learn.

Occasional Wallflower makes a plea to her brain to be open about asking for help:

But asking for help with my mental health is another story. Asking for help means admitting that there’s a problem and I don’t know how ready I am for that. I know that I have been in ‘recovery’ for two years now roughly, but I don’t see myself as ill. Yes, I have been in hospital. Yes, I have attempted suicide twice. Yes, I am on meds. But I have a full time job, I work hard. I have a social life. How can I have all these things and still be ill? I know that on some level things aren’t right but ill? Please.

The latest post at Purple Persuasion addresses something that I think about a lot – the distinction between “I am” and “I have” bipolar:

I am not sure I can say that my bipolar and my self are separate entities. My symptoms started very early in life, so by the age of 12 I was experiencing both depressions and what I now recognise as hypomanic symptoms (my current urges to run in the street now helps me make sense of the “itchiness” in my muscles which had me struggling not to bolt from the classroom). My unchecked bipolar symptoms shaped my adolescence, and that stage of life isn’t referred to as the “formative years” for nothing. Bipolar has moulded my character, and although I know I have plenty of flaws, overall I like who I am. I also know that I’m far from the only one to feel this way – many people who blog or tweet define themselves as “a bipolar person” (or bear!) or use the adjective “bipolar” to refer not to the condition, but to themselves (e.g. “I’m bipolar, so anything that messes with my sleep patterns is really bad news.”)

Over at Hello Sailor, Sailor Carrie has been trying to take the advice given by another blogger by thinking of her negative thoughts as “a piece of poop with eyes”:

I still think the same. I still feel sorry for Negative Sailor. She is a part of me and should be treated like a human. Maybe all the negative bit of me needs is some love and care and a bit of nurturing to rein her in a bit. It’s what you do for someone you care about who is having a bad day, and Negative Sailor obviously had a bad life and that is why she is this way. She doesn’t deserve to be written off and abandoned yet again, just yet. For now I guess I try to change her mind without turning it into an argument every time.

Fishrobber39 has been noticing the impact that his voice seems to reflect his feelings:

I’ve noticed my voice changes significantly depending on my mental state or the situation. I like to think I can hide my moods well, but if someone figures out my voice changes, I’m in deep shit.

I speak in a coarse, soft monotone when I am feeling vulnerable or embarrassed or if I am cornered into a situation I’m not comfortable in. I also use the voice when I am surprised or when I’m just not interested in talking to anyone who greets me (“how you doin’?” “meeehhhhh”).

Werehorse is recovering from a nasty reaction to carbamazepine, which has her weighing up the fear of not taking meds, against the fear of what might happen if she doesn’t.

I am nothing right now. I keep reassuring myself that at least I’m not creating bad karma. I mean, I’m not mired in negativity or doing any active harm to any person, and that includes myself. Apart from the inevitable harm I do as a member of this destructive civilisation.

And suddenly it hits me that it is all *real*. There is no safe place or person that makes it all all right. There is just me, and my thoughts, and my non-thoughts

Those of you on Twitter will know (either because you’ve helped me or been politely bored by me going on about it) that I’ve been teaching myself to knit. This new endeavour prompted me to look to the internet for inspiration on whether this new hobby might take me, and, dear readers, I have learnt that some people knit strange things. For the discerning mentalist we have:

An anatomically correct knitted brain, knitted by a psychiatrist:

A not-anatomically correct knitted brain that you can wear as a hat:

Ravelry

Some knitted prozac:

Where The Woolly Things Are

And this, well this has nothing to do with mentalists, (and isn’t actually knitted) but just made me giggle:

“Crochet Help for Ugly Children

 

Advertisements

About Ruby

up a bit, down a lot. Gin, tea, cardigans.

3 Responses to “This Week in Mentalists – The Hurrah We’ve Almost Survived January Edition”

  1. Lol the things people knit. So cool!

  2. Thanks Ruby, it’s an honor to be mentioned here!

  3. Thanks, Ruby. I’m so pleased I was quoted. This is such a wonderful resource. I’m honored.

    Much love and healing,
    Penney

%d bloggers like this: