February 8, 2013

Somebody Mixed My Medicine

As I often do, I titled this post with a lyric or song title. Some people get it, some people don’t, some people have no idea that I do it or that I do it often or if I do it every time…..so now you’re going to wonder. And then when you think you’ve gotten it figured out, you’re going to wonder “why” and that’s exactly its own answer, cupcake. That’s all I know.

So yesterday I went to group CBT therapy. CBT stands for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy and this is what the booklet they gave us about it says:

“Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) is a type of psychotherapeutic treatment (or “talk therapy”) that helps people to understand the thoughts and feelings that influence behaviours. CBT focuses on the “here and now”

CBT can help people to make sense of overwhelming problems by breaking them down into smaller parts. This makes it easier to see how they are connected and how they affect you.

CBT is commonly used to treat a wide range of disorders, including phobias, addiction, depression and anxiety.

The underlying concept behind CBT is that our thoughts and feelings play a fundamental role in our behaviour. For example a person who spends a lot of time thinking about airplane crashes, runway accidents, and other air disasters may find themselves avoiding air travel. The goal of cognitive behaviour therapy is to teach people that while they cannot control every aspect of the world around them, they can take control of how they interpret and deal with things in their environment. “

Then it has this little diagram which is as equally boring as the above paragraph, blah blah blah. I went in the cab, with Blake. There and back. So hello, mission accomplished right there – with a minor freak out after the fact  but I’ll get to that.  CBT? I retained NOTHING from that class, holy shit. I’ve been going over the course material off and on all day and doing my “homework” which is to fill out this mood chart. Here’s mine for a week, naturally I started today:

The next slot now says “EAT. CAKE. BLOG. 92.5″

I’m scared that when I show them mine next Thursday, because don’t forget, I have to do this shit every single week and ideally every single day for the rest of my life. Or something. I don’t really get what happens post-CBT, like does that mean I’m a saner person then? Do we get a grade? Like, Rick mentioned that some people have to take it multiple times and I’m thinking flat out “fuck. that.” so tell me the point, lemme figure out how best to get an “A” so this hellacious experience can end. I committed to 10 weeks of this bullshit so let’s get this show on the road. Anyway, what if we have to like stand up and say stuff about our charts or if they look at our charts and say things about them in front of the class? I was kind of tuning her out for a while there because it was a lot of information to hit you with all at once so thank god for all the handouts, so she may have said what’s going to happen with the charts once the week’s completed. Do we keep them? I want mine, definitely. I just really hope they’re not held up in front of the class. The 2 ladies running the class have their phone numbers on the big book of stuff they gave us but not their e-mail addresses and that’s a sign of mistrust right there. For me, I dunno how other people feel about that. If you can’t put your words into text, I’m probably not going to listen to them. It’s that I have a legitimate issue with my hearing or rather how my brain filters sound or something, though. I need repetitive sound in my environment which probably explains a significant portion of my musical choices, but more to the point is that I have to ask people to say things more than once or explain them differently, often, or I’m not going to understand.  This probably means I’m retarded or stunted or whatever but it’s just something I’ve noticed over the years. I am OFTEN listening to music that isn’t there. I can’t help the fact that yes, I probably AM seeing things that aren’t there. Yes my meds are working this is just me using my imagination and there’s not a damn thing anyone can do about it. THANK you, for asking.

So the people in my class…at the beginning of the class pretty much the first thing we did was go over the group guidelines which are all pretty much no brainers (hey did you know that “brainer” or “giving brains” means getting or giving a blowjob now? blew my mind! haha) but the one most relevant to my purposes in doing anything was rule #1: “confidentiality is essential for everyone to speak freely and feel safe.” Cool by me but I make no promises about one day changing people’s names if anything funny happens. Rule #2 was “Please listen respectively while others speak.” No problem considering I don’t plan on saying a single word while I’m there ever. But then rules #s3-8 are all about how you basically have to or the group will call you out haha So like, that makes my life right there.

But whatever, CBT was really fucking boring, getting there and back was a lot less boring and I only slightly freaked out about it today, the day after, and I’m done freaking out so let’s talk about it shall we?

First of all, I looked cute godammit.

 

 

I asked Twitter and half of the people said pink and half of them said turquoise.
I went with the pink.

The cab was supposed to be here at 12:30pm but I went into the kitchen at 12:15pm there it was in the driveway, white and grey and blue? I don’t even know. Lady driver, I sat behind her, said “hi”, smiled, whipped out phone and tweeted until we made it to the mental health centre. Blake made small talk with her, which annoyed me but she was an old lady cab driver and I get the appeal of hearing stories so whatever. Let the ladies gossip. So we get there and Blake had to go inside and get a slip of paper from the office for the cab driver which he got and gave to the driver which I was grateful for because I don’t think I could have done it. While he did that, I claimed a spot in the waiting room for the CBT group.

So after CBT I’m not really sure what happened, if Blake asked the receptionist to call the cab or if the cab company knew to come but we waited a while and made stupid jokes in the front foyer of the building and then the cab came and we got in. I sat behind the driver again, this time a dude. When we got in, I got out my phone and screwed around on Twitter and Blake started making small talk with the guy.  This annoyed me immensely because if these two drivers are going to end up being my drivers every time and I am going to have to deal with them every Thursday, sometimes by myself if all goes as planned,  for the next 9 weeks and they think I’m going to sit there and make small talk with them the whole time everyone’s of their damn minds. Isn’t there like public transit etiquette in which you can ignore any and all people from point A to point B except to get out of their way? Why can’t I just talk to my friends on Twitter the whole time I’m in the car? Inquiring minds here!

So the cab thing was pretty nerve-wracking and I guess the plan is the same next week. I suppose I should e-mail Rick and tell him how the cab thing went. I’ll probably just paste him what I just wrote.

Last night was also the first meeting of the Springwater Guild of Artists and Artisans which I was super nervous about but Mike, the photographer that kinda runs things, he was really nice and so was the guy to the right of me who was described to me as “young Gandalf”, which is funny and true and I forget his name. I just know that he’s an illustrator and that he apparently “gets” me, which I found pretty humourous and wondered what on Earth there was to “get”, but whatevs.  There was an older dude there with an accent whose name I missed even though he said it to us twice. I got the sense that he’s a business owner in town of some sort. I didn’t recognize anyone from the website, which I meant to check last night but got distracted by drugs and Community and just needing desperately to sloooooow dooooown. I still haven’t sent Mike any of my stuff for the site yet. I have all the pictures at the appropriate resolutions and sizes for various things, the hard part is the bio and Blake so he wouldn’t write it *for* me but that we could work on it together. So maybe we’ll do that tonight.

Right now Madison and Blake are in the kitchen making garlic mashed potatoes, peas and pork chops. During and after dinner, I plan to put Blake’s poor brainmeats back to work. (He only finished working a few minutes ago, luckily he worked from home today.) Anyway, that’s all I have to say…OH WAIT, no it’s NOT!

On my chart, from 11am-12pm got a 75 because during that time I convinced Madison that making us all french toast for breakfast was an awesome idea and she agreed! Score! Today’s been pretty good. Yesterday sucked but I got through it, today I just needed to not be on (hence why I’m wearing the same clothes today as yesterday but I swapped yesterday’s jeans for today’s yoga pants). Anyway, here are some pics from 10-12. Peace oot!

I also got a massage!

2 Comments

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  1. scutterman says:

    I only just read this because of life etc, but essentially you get an A in cbt when you do it all subconsciously. It isn’t as hard as it sounds.