My last session with the Brain Man was interesting.
I think I've finally realised that I cannot control the external influences which are affecting my recovery. The external messages may be right (they aren't for the most part - why are people so cruel?) but I don't actually have to listen. I understand you have to be pretty insecure yourself to treat another human being so monstrously but that is no excuse.*
The internal voices are still strong. However my anxiety is not internal. (Depression yes it probably is but that's another story). I am learning to isolate my strong anxiety and remind myself it is a separate entity. For me it is not even my own voice. How very telling!
Indeed the Brain Man has given me the rather thrilling idea of engaging with my anxiety and self doubt. Telling it that I will talk to it but to my timetable. No more will I lie awake at 3am and listen to all those hideous things I have previously told myself. I will tell it to fuck off and that I will listen and respond at 10am. A civilised hour where we both have a level play field. Tonight is my first attempt. I'll let you know how I get on.
So say hello to positive Anna. Oh she's coming and she will be triumphant!
I think this be the last time I was truly happy. (What sad admission but true nonetheless)
Turning 30 does not scare me (save financially) but I would be lying if I said I don't oft think about what could have been. I was bright, inquisitive and happy. I could have been a great member of society yet I feel I have contributed nothing. This stops now. I want to leave a legacy.
I am not going to allow certain people drive me away from my happiness. Whether they be online or not. I shall not be used and abused anymore.
Haters can hate. I'm done.
I am not weak for listening to them but I am never going to be strong if I continue to do so.
I am going to be me but what I always imagined I could be on a very good day.** I have the capacity to be exceptional. (I think!)
Today is Marie Curie's birthday. She was my inspiration as a child. I thought she was one of the strongest most fabulous woman I had ever read about. She was who I wanted to be. She is a role model. She is who I still want to be. I want to be a role model. Crippling self doubt has no place here anymore. I want to show people things can get better after the darkest of days. Oh, the sun is starting to shine.
I will still talk about mental health issues because I do think that talking about them can be a very positive step. Stigma is a bitch. I refuse to accept that just because I do not have a media friendly disease I should be shunned. I am not proud to say I have depression or anxiety. Gosh, of course not. The media does paint certain mental illness as the new black. Yet there is a difference between being allowed to talk about being ill (and getting better and trying to help people who are in a similar situation) and saying "woe is me." Woe is not me.
Who are you role models? (You can say me - of course!) What do you take from them? Where do you find your strength?
As always I love to hear from you. I know I write a lot and I'm not exactly Sartre but I really do benefit from your kind and intelligent words. I have to be honest with you. One of my worst traits is to assume I can mind read. When I don't hear from you I assume I'm an idiot and that I am worthless. Yes I know having an external locus for my self esteem is not wise but it's all I've got right now so help a sister out! Pressure much?! Sorry the honesty is good for me right now.
*Also playing the naive girl because you know I will be generous and kind is an extremely cynical and almost evil game to play. I hope you are proud of yourself.
**I may even start taking Berocca!