Earlier today, I hit a real low. I’m not exactly sure what even happened. I felt kind of guilty that I couldn’t go on the hike with Tiff and the kids—my head was just hurting too much. I apologized and I told the kids we could do something together later, and they were really good about it.
Then I was on my own for lunch—maybe that’s how it started. I didn’t want to eat alone, so I was trying to put it off. That made me feel inadequate—I’m not completely recovered, so it isn’t easy to eat alone. But I’m not skipping meals, so I had to eat alone.
My thoughts kept spiraling down. I’d manage to use a coping skill, and it would work for a bit, but the tough thoughts just kept coming back. Why couldn’t I feel better and stay feeling better?
I reframed it, though. Those negative thoughts kept popping up, but every time, I countered them. Every time, I found a way to deal with them.
I focused on my breathing, I took a hot shower, and I knew that even though I was feeling low then, things would get better. Everything the disorder threw at me, I overcame.
And I did it myself. I usually lean on others when things are hard, and that’s okay at times. But I feel good that I was able to get myself through those feelings.