Clothes and Emotions: How What I Wear Impacts My Mood

I've just finished reading an article called "Therapeutic Dressing"  by Erin Mayer which you can read here.

It made me think about my own attitude toward clothing and dressing up or down makes me feel.

I remember when I was severely depressed a few years ago, getting dressed was a big deal. I usually didn't have anywhere that I needed to be, so I could get away with staying in pajamas all day. By the end of the day I would simply change into new pajamas. If I did end up needing to go out I'd throw a sweat shirt on over my pajama shirt and instead of pajama pants I'd just throw on pair of yoga pants. Comfortable, easy, clothing that didn't feel constricting.

There's one sweatshirt in particular that I liked to wear especially when I wasn't feeling well, that I practically lived in. It was extremely soft, and was almost like a security blanket I could wrap around me, making me feel like things were going to be okay. With depression, sometimes it feels like there aren't very many things you can control. But I could control what I wore. I think I needed that sweatshirt to make myself feel like it was okay to not feel good.

Maybe if I had forced myself to get dressed everyday when I was depressed it would have helped me feel better faster. But sometimes I think slowly easing yourself into feeling better is key, rather than forcing yourself to feel better before you're ready.

I have noticed the change in clothing habits now that I haven't been severely depressed for awhile. Now, I feel like I'm being lazy if it's been more than an hour and I haven't showered and gotten dressed yet. I find myself enjoying picking out a cute outfit to wear, or even just wearing a favorite shirt. I would definitely say that clothing can affect your mood.

Although I still lean towards comfortable clothing, such as leggings, I still try to wear actual tops as opposed to ratty old t-shirts.

How does different clothing impact your mood?

Living with Bipolar Disorder: Ways to Cope

Mania:

The memory of mania has always felt fuzzy to me. The only ways I’ve learned to cope with mania is by using preventative measures. Taking my medications, and getting enough sleep at night. Staying away from caffeine and sugar.

This is what it feels like:

They tell me mania feels like being high. I’ve never been high, but if this is what feeling high feels like, I can understand why someone would want to feel this way.

This free feeling. Of wanting to dance, to sing, to paint, and most of all to write. They don’t understand the beauty, because they can’t see it. They can’t feel the words flowing through my mind. I pity them, even as I try to explain, because I must explain it to them. It’s my purpose.

It’s almost as though I’m on my own secret adventure or quest. I’ve become the most important person in the story of my life and only I know the way, only I can solve the puzzle.

The problem is when the thoughts start spinning out of control. I become lost and confused. Things suddenly don’t make sense anymore which makes me angry and irritated. The anger escalates quickly until I’m just a raging ball of fury that crumbles into sobbing depression.

Depression:

Writing has kept me sane. Even when I was in the deepest of depressions, one way I made myself come out of it was by writing down everything I needed to try to do that day.

I remember keeping a small notebook on a pillow next to my bed. I’d write out the date and then a list of things to do: Get up, Shower, Get Dressed, Eat, Take a Walk, Read, Go to Therapy. Small things that I knew I could do. I didn’t expect myself to do all of them. Sometimes I didn’t do any of them besides eat. It was almost like the list was a simple reminder or suggestions of things I should try and do that day.

Setting these small goals helped. Everyday I’d wake up, roll over, and see the list next to me and I’d choose what to do. As I became stronger, I’d be able to cross off more and more off the list. I’d even start adding more things to list as I became happier, because doing the simple things became easier, so easy that I didn’t even need to write them down. I’d still write things down though so that I would wake up every morning and feel like I had a purpose.

That was the thing about my depression. The phrase that would spin around in my head was: “What’s the point?” When your life loses meaning or you lose the point of getting up out of bed, it’s really hard to find it again. It’s almost like the list became the reasons for me to get out of bed in the morning or even two in afternoon. It would remind me that there was a reason to live, that the night before I felt there were things to do the next day.

Crossing off those small things made me feel better. Even if I only managed to cross off: Get up, Eat, and Shower. Taking a shower can feel like one of the hardest things in the world when you no longer see the point to anything.

Eventually though you start to see the point again, and doing things become easier and even enjoyable again. I know when you’re in a deep depression it seems like that long dark tunnel is never ending, but slowly putting one foot in front of the other you’ll find the light again.

I know that everyone copes differently.

These are the things that have worked for me.

You’re Not Sick Enough: Sick Days and Mental Illness

I may look absolutely fine.

But inside I have a knot in my stomach. My mind is racing with a million different thoughts. Most of them are about how to get to a safe place. I can’t breathe, and the panic is slowly building. I have to get out. I have to get out now.

Calm down, the voice of reason inside my head tells me. You’re okay, you’re just trying to have a panic attack. Now, breathe.

Breathe? That’s something that’s not possible right now. Oh, and did I mention that I’m driving? Yeah, I can’t have a panic attack right now.

I start to try and slow my breathing, telling myself that I need to calm down long enough to pull over. I’m half way to work. The closer I get, the harder it is to breathe. I’m not going to make it there today.

I glance at the clock: 8:20am.

Ten minutes until my shift starts. I shouldn’t be this nervous, my job is simple. I’m a cashier at a resale shop, and half the time I’m just hanging up clothes. So why am I freaking out?

That’s the thing about anxiety. It doesn’t always make sense.

Maybe it was the comment my supervisor made the other day. He probably didn’t even mean for it to sound critical. But I took it to heart, and now I no longer feel comfortable at work.

There it is. The root of my anxiety. Logically, I know I need to go in and go to work. But mentally and physically I can’t. At least, not today.

I’ve pulled over into a parking lot. Trying to breathe. My face is wet with tears, my hands are shaking. I don’t have any tissues (I never seem to have tissues when I need them), but I’m beginning to calm down. I’m letting myself not be okay. I’m letting myself not have to pretend I’m okay and go into work with a smile on my face. I’m giving myself a break.

Now how do I explain that to someone who doesn’t have severe anxiety? How do I explain to my boss that I need to take a sick day because I physically couldn’t come into work today?

I’ve tried. I’ve tried to tell the truth when this happens. Then I get the “talk.” I need to be more reliable, consistent, dependable. They can’t depend on me because I can’t predict that my anxiety won’t show up.

So I lie. I text that I woke up with a cold. A stomach virus. Something physical that they can understand. And when I go into work tomorrow, I’ll explain that it must have been a 24 hour bug.

In reality? This anxiety is something I’m going to have to continue fighting for the rest of my life.

New Job!

Pretty much all last week I was applying to jobs online, mainly through Indeed's search engine.

It's been a little hard putting myself back out there again, but I figure it's better to not stay off of the horse too long.

I've gotten a job as a caregiver. It'll be something different, less hours, and hopefully less stress. I'm hoping to pick up more hours, but for now I think that this will be good for me. I'm pretty excited about it so that's good.

I've also been writing more poems lately which I've been publishing over on Medium.

Other than that just getting myself ready for working again!

Quitting My Job Because of Anxiety

It’s happening again. And I’m angry. And tired.

Tired of this crippling anxiety that has me chained to this bed, threatening to derail my life again. I can’t afford to lose this job, not another one. But I can’t afford to go in either. This anxiety won’t let me.

I feel unsafe, and the only way to feel safe again is to quit. It’s the same story each time. I’ll quit, feel some relief, but then spend the next few days beating myself up about quitting. The same damn cycle each time. I know what’s coming: the self-loathing, the self-punishment.

I’ll convince myself I’m not hungry, or that I don’t deserve food. I don’t deserve to be happy because look what I did. I’m ruining my life again, and it’s all my fault.

At least that is what my brain is telling me. All of those nasty self critical, anxiety ridden thoughts. My brain can be cruel sometimes.

Finally my voice of reason will come in and remind me that maybe this is something I needed to do, because I was becoming unhappy at work. I remind myself that the work environment was becoming uncomfortable. It was getting to be too hot, too stressful, and just too much in general.

I know it’s going to be hard. Finding another job is not going to be easy. But it is worth trying again and finding something that works better. A schedule that it is easier on me. A place that pays better, is more rewarding, and has air conditioning. All of these things will be better for me in the long run. So no matter how hard it might seem, know that in the end it is going to be okay and that maybe this actually was the best option for right now.

Haunting Memories: A Poem About Depression

via shutterstock

It comes back in a hazy fog

They always do,

the memories.

You think they’ve faded

and just when you’re sure

you’re no longer sad

There it is again

haunting you:

As if to say

Remember me?

And then you remember

laying in bed

wishing to disappear

staring at the bubbles

in the cup of Sprite

next to your bed.

As each bubble rises

Another tear falls

You’re tired

But no matter how much you sleep

It’s never enough

Because you’re not enough

At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself

over and over

the past few weeks.

You shake your head

Trying to erase the memory

bringing yourself back to the present

and you push it back

to the place where it belongs

The back of your mind

But you know it will return

at least it is now only

A haunting memory.

Slowly But Surely Starting to Feel Better

I decided I'd write a little update for you all on how I've been feeling.

I took off work yesterday because I knew I needed to. I took some anti-anxiety medicine yesterday and the day before and that lessened my feeling anxious about everything. My mom also came and stayed with me for a few hours, and we took a walk to the store and got some snacks for when we'd relax and watch Netflix.

I'm glad I just let myself relax though, rather than making myself feel guilty about needing to take off work. It's more important to take care of yourself sometimes, and listen to what you need.

I spent some time napping and then colored and listened to some relaxing music.

I also spent some time writing about everything I was feeling, just to sort of let everything out. It really helped to have my mom there some of the time to keep me from dwelling on the anxious and sad thoughts I've been having since I was off my medication.

I'm glad that lately I've been doing a good job of letting myself take care of myself and not trying to over do things when I don't feel quite up to it. I'm learning that it's more important to take a break than to try and pretend I'm fine when I'm not.

I called my therapist on Tuesday and she also suggested I take the day off to give the Lithium time to be fully in my system again. Sometimes trying to force yourself to do things too soon can backfire. I've also done my best to stay away from caffeine so that way I'll sleep better and it won't aggravate my anxiety.

Today I don't have work, and I'm planning on going to my therapy session and spending the rest of the day to relax and get a few things done around the house. Hopefully I'll do some yoga too.

I'm planning on working tomorrow, and luckily it's only a half day that doesn't start until 11:30 in the morning.

What things do you do when you have to take a step back from everything?