Dear Diary – 18 May 2017

May 18, 2017

Dear Diary,

I started a new kind of blog post theme today.  I have one called “To Whom It Concerns” that I think people like; I mean, it makes me laugh.  But I’ve been having trouble writing and I really want to start writing again because if you don’t use it you lose it, and I love this gift of mine.  I thought if I started by writing just for myself it might be easier.  I call this one “Dear Diary” because I talk to myself more than anyone else.  I’m often the only one listening anyway, so it kind of makes sense.  Writing to “Dear Diary” helps decrease the feeling of performance anxiety when I’m trying to think of what to say here.  This way it’s just between us, but I can still say I’m a writer.

My favorite psychiatrist once told me when I’d seen her just after a dissociative episode that no one is coming to save me.  I have to save myself.  At the time I was really mad at her.  I did not feel strong enough to complete this seemingly Sisyphean task.  I still do not, but I’ve gained enough wisdom to know she was right and I’m stubborn enough to keep trying.

As part of my recovery and boring self care I’ve been trying to make myself do more, move more, be more independent.  It’s hard and it’s scary.  I’m not used to active living because I’ve just shut down and isolated myself for so long.  I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do.  I’m really good at the thinking part but not so good with the doing part; I’m not used to being a self-starter.  I came up with a huge list of things I’d like to have as part of my recovery, things that will enrich my life and help me grow and progress.  These aren’t physical items per se, they are habits and experiences and relationships, all the things that make up the act of living.  It’s just that next step part that I haven’t seemed to master.  Persistence, consistence, motivation; these are things in short supply when you live with mental illness.  It’s discouraging when something as simple as getting gas in your car causes a meltdown.  It makes you not want to try.  The intense feelings of failure, disappointment, and splitting are hard to overcome.

Recently my friend got herself new strings for her guitar as a birthday gift.  I’ve wanted to play guitar for years but never felt like I could afford a guitar or lessons.  Luckily, I find myself in possession of Mom’s guitar, and since the internet is a thing I am now able to find guitar lessons online for free!  I spent some time tuning it the other day and in the interest of not being a liar when I tell people that I’m teaching myself to play the guitar, I have made an appointment with myself every day after watching my morning show for Guitar Lessons.  I won’t know if I’m a success for awhile, but I’m giving it a try and hoping for the best.

Well, that’s all for now Dear Diary.  Thanks for being a good vehicle to get the writing juices flowing again.

Sincerely,

Sallygirl

 

 

 

The Patriarchy vs. Me

Patriarchy has taught me that I need permission to exist.

Patriarchy taught me I’m not enough, all by myself, standing alone in front of my maker.

Patriarchy taught me I needed a man to be a whole person.

Patriarchy taught me I can’t get into the highest level of heaven without one.

Patriarchy made me feel ugly.

Patriarchy made me feel guilty for first having needs, and then meeting them.

Patriarchy bosses me around, tells me what to do, what not to do, what questions to ask, how to ask them, and what the answers are.

Patriarchy tells me how to feel, and tears me down when I don’t meet it’s definition of whatever it’s telling me to be.

Patriarchy has done nothing good for me.

F*ck you, Patriarchy!