The weekend I officially finished weaning off my old meds and started taking the new ones. I know it’s only been a few days but the anxiety meds are a 1000 times better than what I was on and the anti-depressant is still trying to kick in. I’m grateful my ravenous appetite has diminished as I was becoming broke and fat.
We have also started the bigger girls on neurofeedback therapy for their anxiety (nuts don’t fall far from the tree here). After two “treatments” we can see small improvements. Unfortunately, this early in the process the effects only last a few days, so by Monday we’re back to full on drama llamas and tears and stomping. The doc has assured me this will get better. It may take months of weekly visits before we can start spacing them out more. The thought just makes my head hurt. Mr. B can’t take every Friday off and going to sit through 30 minute sessions with all four of them squirming and being distractions gives me anxieties.
I haven’t posted much because for a while I was stuck in my chair thinking of all the things I’m failing at: couponing, cleaning, cooking, building my business, blogging, sewing, being a wife, not fussing at the kids, setting boundaries, keeping to the budget……and the list goes on.
And then the song. That PERFECT song. So aptly named F*cking Perfect.
You’re so mean when you talk
About yourself. You were wrong.
Change the voices in your head
Make them like you instead. -P!nk
I played it. I played it again. I sang it, tweeted it, shouted it. I cried.
I remembered my counselor telling me that I didn’t put the voices in my head. Others did that. That we put the words and the voices in other people’s heads by how we treat them, how we speak to them.
In my life there were people who said nice things. Seems it’s easier to remember the ones who didn’t. I don’t know why but it’s just easier to remember all the times you’ve been put down, rather than picked up.
So I started listening for the nice things. I wrote them on notes. I scribbled it on the bathroom mirror. I made a concerted effort to focus on those things, to repeat them, and when I couldn’t hear anything from someone around me I opened my Bible and read all the wonderful things God has to say to me and about me. How He loves me, how He made me and He doesn’t make crap. He made me with purposeful intent.
I’m changing the voices.
I’m changing my voice, careful of the voice I am leaving behind in the minds of those around me. 
In the past few days, I have sewn a precious baby quilt for my sister, I have started a site for my blog designs, I have stepped away from things like Facebook where my feelings tend to get hurt, and I turn on Spotify daily—and dance-with perfect goofiness and lack of gracefulness.
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