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| Sketch, 2010 or 2011 |
“I want you to document your symptoms.”
The statement is simple, at least on the surface. Take the time to keep track of all the ways in which your disease presents itself. Write them down. Notice patterns.
I’ve done this before with food. It was easy, clear. Eat food, write it down. Notice stomach aches, headaches, write them down. Look to see if certain foods cause certain feelings. Cause and effect.
Documenting symptoms is decidedly less simple is when your symptoms are emotional or behavioral—when you’ve lived with the “condition” your whole life. At what point do nagging doubts stop being realistic thinking and start being symptoms of depression? How do I separate my personality from overly negative thinking? When does being critical of yourself cross the line between having high standards and feeling worthless?
Documenting symptoms means writing down things that aren’t normal, that aren’t healthy. And labeling the way I think as somehow defective and worthy of correction? It’s not unlike the type of thinking that got me into trouble in the first place.
The “easy” answer seems to be more about keeping a detailed diary. If I can’t differentiate my symptoms from my personality, I have to write it all down. It’s not about whether my negative attitude is a part of my personality, it’s about where it gets in my way. It’s about being critical of when I’m critical. Write down how I feel. Write down what I do. Write down how I feel. Coax patterns out of what I wrote.
Record the ugly. Record the good.
Record.
