I realised a year or so ago that complaining as much as I do is really bad for my mind. It also reinforces neural pathways for more complaining in future. I won't "get it out of my system", but will reinforce it in my system. So more complaining. I've been trying not to complain.
It's really hard though because for years I've reinforced these pathways that make me moan about shit. & I get it. I've had some shit times in life. I've lacked support. I'm in physical pain all the time. I have depression that won't go away. & complaining doesn't help. Sadly.
Complaining does make me feel bad, or at least reinforces my focusing on negative feelings over any positive ones I might have. So I've been trying to do that. It's really really slow & difficult as it's so in my nature to complain but it does seem to be helping.
Been trying to hold back from posting negative stuff on social media too, because I found social media was cripplingly negative. I was putting negative stuff out, so naturally I was getting a lot of negative back. There've been countless times I've typed a post & deleted it.
One thing I've learned is that in not complaining about stuff into the ether on social media is that I still needed an outlet for certain things. Like talking about my Dad being ill, Christmas being cancelled, & booking places we lost the money for because of covid laws changing.
I initially went to rant on FB. Then I deleted the post immediately. I typed a reply to someone saying something that upset me. Deleted it. But then I asked people I know how their Christmases were. They asked about mine too. I told them. I felt better to share. That's sharing.
Like, actual sharing. The issue with social media, I realised, is that posts r directed at everyone & no-one at the same time. U feel like u shared, but then u don't get real support in return. I hate going to people for support. But ultimately it's got to be part of my recovery.
It's weird when you have a day off of taking meds because you go back to being super forgetful, but you don't remember you're going to forget, so you're not constantly checking to see what you forgot, & end up blissfully unaware of it all until it's too late.
I'd say that this is probably a sign that the meds are working. My crippling anxiety has gone. I'm no longer constantly paranoid about whether there's something important I should be doing instead of whatever thing I'm doing at any given moment.
When I was young & didn't take responsibility for much, I used to just do whatever I felt like, & deal with any consequences after the fact, regardless of what they were. But after my Mum died, I couldn't do that or I'd have just died somehow (no exaggeration).