This is kind of cool: why anxiety means homework goes unfinished

My kick-ass rad fem therapist today and I were talking about (what else) the overwhelming anxiety I am having from my proofs class which is coupled with the fact that I went to see him today to ask for help and he just stared at me. (You should listen to him when people who are doing well in the class go in for help, he's super-helpful. All other C students like me say the same thing: when you ask him something he stares at you, but he'll help the people who all ready get it. Being one of 3 resources for the class (another one being his crappy definitions and the third being me, who can't figure out the definitions and is therefore struggling to stay afloat) this SUCKS.)

ANyway, back to my story. There is, of course, some PTSD triggers thrown in there as well. So much about this mirrors being in a house with my abusive mom: having to be somewhere I hate while being helpless and having no one to turn to (b/c yes I *can* get a tutor, but all the math fellows either a) tell me they did horribly at the class, b) took it from someone else and every prof covers different material, or c) blocked it out of their memory), and then there's the constant replays of my mom's voice telling me I'm stupid and a litany of other similar things. HOORAY! Isn't my head a fun place to be these days? My best friend begged me to leave the class (we have similar mental health (dis)Abilities and are always watching out for one another, but I can't. I have 2 friggin' quarters to go and I will have that BS in my hands. Can't change now, don't want to either. Like math, want to continue doing math for a very very long time. Must push through even though b/c of this class they've upped my Xanax AND my Lamictal. Heh. (and I had to double my xanax dose yesterday b/c one just didn't work)

SO, here's the cool part. My therapist likes to explain how these things work inside your brain by modeling it for me. I really like this. SO today she showed me how anxiety and PTSD affect the entire brain, not just how PTSD traps you in your midbrain (and how the techniques we use like EMDR try to put these things into words instead of just emotions which move them out of your midbrain and make them something that is easier to deal with and not an automatic reaction.)

She held out her hand in a closed fist: this is your brain (I know you probably all pictured the frying pan, but shake it out), she then opened her fist and pointed to the middle of her hand and said "this is your amygdala" and then to her thumb and said "this is your hypothalamus" and re-closed her hand. She then said "this is normally how your brain is, but when you get activated, or in a manic state, or in a mixed state (which happens to me when I get activates), or have anxiety this happens" and she opened her hand (which makes sense since in PTSD the midbrain takes over) "and your neocortex is unable to function properly."

I all ready knew that anxiety meant that I was not going to get anything done, but it's nice to have an idea of *why* nothing gets done. Although I'm sure if I had a more technical explanation I would just be confused.

Finals start the 17th, we don't have a final in this class, just a 2 hour class period of, yay, proofs that Wednesday. Everyone keep their fingers crossed that I don't have a nuclear meltdown before then, because it really feels like I am heading for a major one and I really REALLY hate the idea of having one because of something that I put myself through.

I hate December

So if you read my last substantial post you know that I have been having a really hard time this month. And during my 16 hour layover (my flight got cancelled and they rescheduled it for 6 the next morning, blech. they had no pilots, isn't that great.) I was thinking and December has always been a bad month. Usually that means there's a trauma anniversary of some kind, and all I can come up with is stuff about having to spend a lot of time with my mother due to xmas break and all. And now I'm here, which I always dread. If my grandmothers weren't so old and in such poor shape I wouldn't come home at all. I just can't deal with my mother. It makes sense though, because I've been having my "mom tapes" playing constantly telling me I'm worthless. It didn't help that I had asshole prof who acted like I was using my migraines and disability to not take quizzes and a test. I got 100% on everything I turned in (no late homework, even for those of us who have documented disabilities and work with disAbility resources. And I got a B- in the class, which I think is bullshit. Once I have my hands on the final I will be appealing.) even though I ALWAYS had it done by the due date.

I'm just a ball of PTSD related depression and anxiety and I have been all month. I caught myself thinking that I should just end it with the first person I've ever loved. It's been that bad. Now that I'm in Chicago I just want to leave. Waiting for the plane filled me with anxiety and just made me want to ditch it and go home. I've been here 30 minutes and I'm crying.

I'll be back hopefully in a few weeks. I'm just overwhelmed with PTSD-related issues right now.

I hope you're all well and enjoy the holiday season (and for you students/profs I hope you enjoy your break.) I need to go now.

I FUCKING HATE DECEMBER (and can't wait until I can spend every December in my little repopulated ghost town in southwest Texas. Nothing gets to me there, I'm just filled with a sense of peace and joy at being alive. After I pay off my student loans I'll probably buy some land and move there for good. people survive down there by working as little as 2 nights a week (those that own land anyway.)

*sigh*

Another week, more problems

So my insomnia has been acting up again. It's really fucking with school. And when I can't sleep my anxiety gets much much worse. I need to talk to my doctor because the 25mg of seroquel is not working anymore. I was going to go up for my friend's birthday in Vancouver, but I'm here and feel like I got hit by a mack truck.

I had tests in my Classical Mechanics class and my hard math class today. I was in the testing center for 7 hours, partially because I kept having mini panic attacks and almost started crying several times. It was very disconcerting. I'm still kicking myself b/c I know my physics prof would have let me take the test on Monday. I spent so much time studying for physics that I only did some damage control this morning (though I've been doing all the homework in my math class religiously).

I think I did well on the mechanics test. I feel that I did passable on the math test, even though I almost broke down several times during it.

I have to talk to my therapist about the sleeping thing, and the fact that lately my mom tapes have been playing repeatedly and every time I have trouble with something my immediate thought is that I'm too stupid and I should quit (she used to tell me repeatedly that I was stupid and that I'd never amount to anything. great mother, huh?).

It doesn't help that I have the math prof I hate who makes me feel like an idiot everytime I have a problem. And I've been doing the most moronic thing too: I'm madly in love with a total math genius. he never got anything but an A in any of his classes (though part of this may be that he probably has much better study habits then I do. I only really know how to study by doing the homework. Reviewing stuff is still hard for me) and it's the same when I can't do something, I think of him and feel like a complete idiot (but only in my math classes, when I asked him to check to see that my physics math was right he was totally lost, partially because of the dummy variables). But he's nothing but supportive. In fact he's awesome.

I know it's just my anxiety and my PTSD (mom tapes) acting up, but it's been this way for the past two weeks. I really need to do something about this. It's also seriously making me doubt grad school. I need to get this under control. I thought it was, but then it comes back to bite me in the ass. Having a mental health disability is so fucking hard. I hate my life sometimes. But I will keep trying and I will beat this fucking bullshit. (I hope.) I really want to go to grad school, badly. I'll just have to try twice as hard as some people, and let me tell you, I don't think it's fucking fair.

In other news I got a B on my DiffEQ test. We have another one next week. This week I'm going to finally open the book. I can ace this class if I study a little.

EDIT: I found a sliding scale accupuncture place and am going in because I've been having a lot of muscle spasms (in my neck) which lead to migraines and they've all gotten more frequent in the past two weeks. I can't go a day without a muscle relaxer and it's killing me (and turning me into a zombie). *Fingers crossed* I hope this works. I'm gonna see if they can help me with my insomnia too.

EDIT #2:
This is taken from a comment I refuse to publish, b/c I have before and I am sick of people telling me that my meds are harmful. Maybe they are, but they have improved my quality of life tenfold. I will answer all of you here, so don't bother to comment, it won't be published. I know what's best for me, not you. So sod off.

I take this medication because it is my informed decision. I am also on mood stabilisers which have improved the quality of my life by 100%. I don't want any more comments about how it's "unfeminist" to be on medication. Trust me I have tried everything for my insomnia (I've had it since I was a kid) and for everything else, although I am going to an accupuncturist on Monday to see if we can do something about these muscle spasms and migraines. My therapist is a kick ass radical feminist. While she did suggest I go on a mood stabiliser she never pushed and after two years I decided that I would finally try it. My meds are my business. Yes I think the drug industry is fucked up, yes I am loathe to support them (even though my medicaid pays for it), but nevertheless I am more then happy to take the medications that I do. I have spent the last 7 years fighting this and I finally decided to try meds, and they work. So kiss my ass, it's not unfeminist.

Would you tell a diabetic that they couldn't have their insulin b/c it would be unfeminist for them? What about a cancer patient? Those of us who live with an illness are the only ones who it should matter to what we do to help alleviate our problems. I will never be ashamed for what I do to help me sleep, help to manage my moods, or help me manage the pain from my muscle spasms and migraines.

Also my "mom tapes" are not a load of patriarchal bullshit. I have severe PTSD because of the abusive environment I was raised in. My mother used to physically and emotionally abuse me. My "mom tapes" are the thoughts that keep repeating over and over in my head that are direct quotes from her. I do not think I am stupid and I know that I will definitely do something great with my life. I have all ready have. I have amounted to a kick ass activist who has published feminist theory and who is almost finished with her schooling in math and physics and is planning on attending grad school. But then there pops up my mom's annoying voice telling me that I'm shit, that I'm worthless, that I'm stupid and that I'll never amount to anything. Those are not my ideas, those are things that *she* told me. I named them my "mom tapes" not my awesome therapist. Again, it is my choice, my decision.

If you come to tell me that it's fucked up and I'm just a victim of the medical community you are ignoring any agency I have and my ability to decide what is best for me. Whether that is medication, naming my traumas, or anything else I decide to do to help alleviate the problems my disability throws at me it doesn't fucking matter what you think. Only I know what it's like to be me, not you, not anyone else. No one tied me down and forced this medication down my throat. No one forced me to accept the idea of mom tapes, in fact I feel that it's pretty damn accurate.