Alot has been said on here that DP and self-monitoring are a habit sort of, or a compulsion that keeps answering the obsessive thoughts with more monitoring. Obsession being thoughts--Compulsion being actions. Is there any good that can come of paying attention to what the thoughts are? I mean the content or the "gist"?
If I had a friend who told me they felt bad but didn't know why, I would ask "what's been going on lately and what have you been thinking about?" Would you guys ask that too?
Now if I ask myself the same things--I would back-track to the first panic attack in recent past and wonder if that turned on my "worry switch" at that point, and even if a series of full blown attacks didn't start happening after that, the One I did have seems to have set me in monitor mode. I am phobic about going crazy.
I know it is how phobias form for me. Or rather how the one's I have are re-awakened. I won't have a panic attack for a year, then I'll be in a "stuck" situation and the adrenaline and dizzy feeling and tremendous anxiety come and in some way I am now on high alert. B/cuz I scared myself real bad by feeling those feelings again. I want to protect myself again. So I withdraw in some sense from the world and people even more. And this is a back slide to some progress I seemed to have made.
I do have many "cant's" or "won't do's" already established and I seem to get by. But once I have an "unbidden" panic attack I feel blindsided and terrified. Not being able to control an outcome is hard for me. Not feeling "in control" of my feelings is like Hell on earth.
What I notice of the gist of thoughts in my head as I drag my ass thru the days is that I am bad, weak, stupid, ugly and crazy, and why do I keep surviving each day for more of the same-- "barely getting by" feelings. I feel like life is incredibly stupid and I find little meaning in it or the people in it. I am not merely scared some of the time; I feel always terrorized inside and meds are a cover for keeping me from jumping off a building. I'm glad to have them but God I'm so blue and down and fed up to the teeth with feeling bad.
I don't want my dogs, I don't want my life, to be happy or smile or have one or two un-self-concious moments of not hating myself would be amazing. I don't know what I ever did to hate me so bad, but I am truly sick of this charade that I am actually living. Sorry I just had to dump. I wish I could just believe I will get better this time.
If I had a friend who told me they felt bad but didn't know why, I would ask "what's been going on lately and what have you been thinking about?" Would you guys ask that too?
Now if I ask myself the same things--I would back-track to the first panic attack in recent past and wonder if that turned on my "worry switch" at that point, and even if a series of full blown attacks didn't start happening after that, the One I did have seems to have set me in monitor mode. I am phobic about going crazy.
I know it is how phobias form for me. Or rather how the one's I have are re-awakened. I won't have a panic attack for a year, then I'll be in a "stuck" situation and the adrenaline and dizzy feeling and tremendous anxiety come and in some way I am now on high alert. B/cuz I scared myself real bad by feeling those feelings again. I want to protect myself again. So I withdraw in some sense from the world and people even more. And this is a back slide to some progress I seemed to have made.
I do have many "cant's" or "won't do's" already established and I seem to get by. But once I have an "unbidden" panic attack I feel blindsided and terrified. Not being able to control an outcome is hard for me. Not feeling "in control" of my feelings is like Hell on earth.
What I notice of the gist of thoughts in my head as I drag my ass thru the days is that I am bad, weak, stupid, ugly and crazy, and why do I keep surviving each day for more of the same-- "barely getting by" feelings. I feel like life is incredibly stupid and I find little meaning in it or the people in it. I am not merely scared some of the time; I feel always terrorized inside and meds are a cover for keeping me from jumping off a building. I'm glad to have them but God I'm so blue and down and fed up to the teeth with feeling bad.
I don't want my dogs, I don't want my life, to be happy or smile or have one or two un-self-concious moments of not hating myself would be amazing. I don't know what I ever did to hate me so bad, but I am truly sick of this charade that I am actually living. Sorry I just had to dump. I wish I could just believe I will get better this time.