I came home from Rogers Memorial Hospital a little over three months ago. In these past few months, I have discovered so much about myself and society. I have felt so much more confident, worthy, and beautiful.
I basically spent my first few days home trying to re-learn my whole life. It was all one giant exposure. I had to have a completely new role in the family. I took on chores, resisted seeking reassurance, and worked around everyone else's schedules for the first time. I had to be flexible and independent. I kept a to-do list to avoid mental reviewing and it worked out well. I challenged myself a lot more once I first started meeting with my therapist in Kalamazoo. We decided we would finish my hierarchy (list of exposures from Rogers) together. She and I agreed that each time we saw each other, which was twice a week, we would work on two different exposures in session and I would be assigned three exposures to do at home. This would eventually prepare me to do homework at home once school began.
There is nothing stranger than feeling like an outcast in your own home. It felt bizarre to wake up in my bedroom each morning because I wasn't used to it. My family didn't know the new me and I had to teach them what they could do to support me. I told them to give me chores in order to not enable me. I couldn't avoid doing tasks any more and when I was assigned a task, it would go on my to-do list to do later. I wasn't allowed to do any task the minute it was given. I had to be flexible and have fun first. This may seem like the ultimate exposure to any procrastinator, but it was extremely difficult for me.
I began to work on running the second day I was home. I only ran until I was tired and I didn't use a timer or my phone to track my distance. I felt out of control in my workouts because I didn't know what kind of progress I was making. I pushed through each run and eventually I habituated to not being in control.
Yoga became a huge coping skill for me when I came home. I attended a class once a week on Sunday's and it really helped me prepare for the coming week. I was so happy that I found a new way to relax my mind.
My first relapse came when Jake and I began discussing college. The whole idea freaked me out. I didn't want to be away from him. I am planning on attending KVCC, but he is looking at several different schools with some being further away. I completely panicked at the thought of being so far apart. I cried and it felt like I couldn't breathe. After my panic attack took its course, I breathed and told myself that it was time to get back on track. I took my relapse as a learning experience and I pushed through it. This experience only taught me that I am incredibly strong and I'm capable of anything.
Each moment of everyday is a struggle. I am constantly fighting. There are always going to be challenges and triggers, but I'm using my skills and knowledge to my advantage. I feel strong, positive, and beautiful. I accept myself for who I am and I am doing my best. The first few weeks home were definitely a culture shock, but I made it through and I'm doing better than ever.
I basically spent my first few days home trying to re-learn my whole life. It was all one giant exposure. I had to have a completely new role in the family. I took on chores, resisted seeking reassurance, and worked around everyone else's schedules for the first time. I had to be flexible and independent. I kept a to-do list to avoid mental reviewing and it worked out well. I challenged myself a lot more once I first started meeting with my therapist in Kalamazoo. We decided we would finish my hierarchy (list of exposures from Rogers) together. She and I agreed that each time we saw each other, which was twice a week, we would work on two different exposures in session and I would be assigned three exposures to do at home. This would eventually prepare me to do homework at home once school began.
There is nothing stranger than feeling like an outcast in your own home. It felt bizarre to wake up in my bedroom each morning because I wasn't used to it. My family didn't know the new me and I had to teach them what they could do to support me. I told them to give me chores in order to not enable me. I couldn't avoid doing tasks any more and when I was assigned a task, it would go on my to-do list to do later. I wasn't allowed to do any task the minute it was given. I had to be flexible and have fun first. This may seem like the ultimate exposure to any procrastinator, but it was extremely difficult for me.
I began to work on running the second day I was home. I only ran until I was tired and I didn't use a timer or my phone to track my distance. I felt out of control in my workouts because I didn't know what kind of progress I was making. I pushed through each run and eventually I habituated to not being in control.
Yoga became a huge coping skill for me when I came home. I attended a class once a week on Sunday's and it really helped me prepare for the coming week. I was so happy that I found a new way to relax my mind.
My first relapse came when Jake and I began discussing college. The whole idea freaked me out. I didn't want to be away from him. I am planning on attending KVCC, but he is looking at several different schools with some being further away. I completely panicked at the thought of being so far apart. I cried and it felt like I couldn't breathe. After my panic attack took its course, I breathed and told myself that it was time to get back on track. I took my relapse as a learning experience and I pushed through it. This experience only taught me that I am incredibly strong and I'm capable of anything.
Each moment of everyday is a struggle. I am constantly fighting. There are always going to be challenges and triggers, but I'm using my skills and knowledge to my advantage. I feel strong, positive, and beautiful. I accept myself for who I am and I am doing my best. The first few weeks home were definitely a culture shock, but I made it through and I'm doing better than ever.