Welp, trump won.

That fucking happened.

I sure as hell didn’t vote for him.

But that’s not what this entry is about, so I digress.

I was in therapy on Thursday morning and Sean asked me what I was doing/thinking/feeling just before the voices surfaced while on vacation.

I had to really think about it.

And I wasn’t really doing anything.

I was scrolling through Facebook.

And he said that may do it.

Than anxiety of doomscrolling and of Facebook in general.

And I had been fairly anxious and agitated earlier that day.

I held it in.

But, it was there.

So the voices surfaced that night.

So I took Haloperidol most of my trip days and most days since being back.

I just stopped taking it again on Wednesday this week.

So it was a solid week on it again.

I noticed I started drooling again this week, so I stopped it.

That’s how I can tell I’m over medicated.

The drooling.

Oh well.

It helps a ton in small doses tho.

And those were the only breakthrough symptoms that I had the whole trip.

So that was amazing.

I had an epidural steroid injection this morning.

My Dad was going to take me but he got some flu-like crud yesterday and couldn’t help me like we had planned.

But I really don’t want to be around anyone who’s sick anyway.

At all.

So it’s fine.

And I got a neighbor to help out instead.

I had to have a driver because I needed sedation for the epidural.

I’ve done an epidural without sedation and I was in pain from it for hours afterward.

And during was just absolutely fucking terrible and I never, ever, want to do that again.

Ever.

When you’re under, you don’t feel the needle go in and can’t feel the residual pains as intensely.

It still feels slightly bruised or something afterwards.

But not anywhere close to without the anesthesia.

I don’t know how it works, I just know it does.

All in all the injection went really well though.

And whatever they used to knock me out made me kinda loopy for a few hours afterwards.

Like always, I thought they didn’t use enough at first, but it did just fine!

I was out!

On a totally different note, I think I’m going to find another EMDR therapist after Sean leaves.

I asked him if he knew anyone in town/nearby that takes Medicare and he said he might.

Or they might know someone who takes it as well.

I’m hoping I can find someone soon.

I’m going to keep the therapist he’s transitioning me to too.

But, I think having an EMDR therapist to continue working on my anxiety and depression, is a good call.

At least, if they’re affordable, that is.

I’ve only got a couple of weeks left with Sean.

Which makes me so sad.

I hate to see him go.

But at the same time, I’m happy for him and his family’s growth and prosperity.

He’s been a huge help in my recovery this year.

I’ve grown leaps and bounds with him.

I actually feel decent about myself today.

I can honestly say that I accept myself today.

I don’t like myself yet, but I’m getting there, slowly.

Baby steps.

Feeling decent about myself is the closest I’ve come to liking myself yet.

And I’m proud of that.

I can say today that I’m proud of my growth.

I proud of my progress.

And I haven’t self harmed in months.

I don’t really think about it anymore, not like I used to.

And that’s significant as fuck.

It used to be my go-to when even the slightest bit frustrated.

I’d even go into the bathroom at my jobs and just fucking whale on my head so fucking hard with my fists, on both sides, over, and over, and over again.

As hard as I fucking could.

I actively hated myself and that was confirmed daily with my self-loathing actions and words.

I used to call myself a dumb bitch all the time.

Every day, practically.

A fucking idiot.

Fucking moron.

Dumb cunt.

Fucking useless.

All of it.

I was so awful to myself.

And I accepted that as typical behavior.

It has taken years and years to stop all of that negative self-talk.

To stop actively hating myself.

It’s tough.

It’s really tough.

It took a ton of work, and a really long time to stop those horrible, self deprecating patterns.

And every once in a while still, I’ll slip up.

I’ll catch myself calling myself names.

Especially dumb bitch.

I try to reframe that shit when I catch myself like that.

Sometimes I’m too upset and I just cry about it all.

But usually, I try really hard to say something like no, Keren, you’re just tired and worn out today.

Or no, Keren, you’ve just had a shitty day.

Or that was just a shitty interaction.

No, you’re just stressed out today.

Or whatever the case may be, reframe that shit.

I try really, really hard to not actively hate on myself anymore.

Like my self harming, it’s not my go-to anymore.

And I intend to keep it that way.

I’m proud of my progress today.

And I try really hard to remember days like these when I’m upset with myself.

– Keren