Broke, broken, all the same to me.

I feel like a broken record when I come here and post.  I feel tired, that bone weary weighing you down tired.  I am sick of being broke.  I am sick of everything being so hard all the time.  I am tired of life in general. I am sick of being me.  We have 3 beater cars, all in terrible shape, and no money to fix them, but the are necessary to get to all our appointments etc.  I feel like we are never going to get out of this mess we are in.

Hubby talked to a lawyer last week and he said he couldn’t help him, but referred him to another firm that probably could.  That lawyer was supposed to call Friday, today at the latest…. no call. Of course.  This is just another hit.

I literally feel like I am being beaten with a baseball bat- thwap hit to the back, thwap hit to the gut, thwap to the legs and I fall, thwap, thwap, thwap.  I feel beaten and broken. I don’t know how much more I can take.  I know people say that all the time, but I am just so beat down.

We are due for a 2 day winter storm starting tomorrow- they already cancelled my counseling appointment for tomorrow morning, and I needed that SO BAD.  I have med management tomorrow afternoon and I am worried they will cancel that too.

Well I have to get my kids to bed so I can mope in peace.

Life block?

I started a post last night about why I haven’t written much lately, but it isn’t so much that I haven’t written lately, it’s not writer’s block- it’s life block.  I am barely living my life.  I am not someone I have ever been, or ever dreamed I would be. Part of me wants to be curled up in bed, or watching TV or reading.  And part of me looks at that part of me with disgust.

That part of me, looks at me and how I am living my life right now and wants to scream “wake the hell up”.  You have two wonderful children- yes they have issues, but they are amazing human beings.  Stop yelling at them for making messes, for wanting to play with slime, for being a typical teenager with earbuds in.  You have an amazing husband who stands by you no matter what.  He’s picked up the cooking when you dropped it, he doesn’t feel well either and yet he humor’s your breakdown.  He listens to every bit of whining you do about your past, or how you look, or how much this isn’t the life you dreamed of.  This isn’t the life he dreamed of either.  He didn’t expect to be unable to work at 38 years old.  He didn’t expect to have to depend on the “system”, he expected to follow in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps, and work hard all his life, to come home and be a jack of all trades, to be able to take vacations, and be able to do things he wanted to do.  That part of me, looks at me with disgust and disappointment.  Thinks I am selfish.  Hates me.  That part of me knows I am a disappointment to my family, that I have never done anything or accomplished anything.

And that part of me? Hates all of me.  Hates itself for not being stronger, for not being able to “snap out of it”.

I want so badly to wake up tomorrow and to smile, to be thankful for another day, to get up  and make breakfast, happily get my kids ready for school, or better yet still be homeschooling them, to cook my husband a good meal at dinner time.  To be the fun mom that makes slime, that let’s them cook in the kitchen and make a mess.  The mom who understands that her teenager pushing her away isn’t about her, that it’s about growth and independence.

But instead I am trapped in a prison of my own construct.  No matter how much I WANT to snap out of it, I can’t. I have mental illness.  It’s not laziness, it’s not weakness, it’s not selfishness.  It’s just as real as a physical illness.  I KNOW this is my logical mind.  In the part of my mind that Mary Poppins would say my insight lives.  But I can’t seem to accept any truth where I am not at fault for everything.

Another reason I haven’t written is that I just don’t seem to be able to muster up the energy most days.  For some reason that is unfathomable to me, February was a crazy stupidly busy month.  And what 2 years ago I would have scoffed at and completed with ease, makes me need a long nap.  My counselor and I were talking today about the fact that I am just drained all the time, I am grumpy and irritable, I have no hobbies anymore – even the thought of taking out my knitting needles makes me tired.  She told me about the “spoon theory”.  She explained it that we have a certain number of spoons everyday, and as a person with my mental illness has fewer spoons that someone without it.  So where someone without mental illness can get up at 6am, shower, get their kids off to school, make breakfast and maybe work out and only use a spoon, me just thinking about getting up out of bed to face another day uses a spoon.  And showering uses a spoon or two.  That by the end of the day I don’t have any spoons left.  So true. The only reason I have the energy to write all this out today is that I took a nap already, and I am home alone.  Hubby has taken little one to occupational therapy, and big one is still at school.  No one needs me at the moment.

Last night I was laying in bed thinking about how hubby has to take little one to occupational therapy and maybe I should surprise him and make dinner.  I want to do that so much, but just thinking about the work it will take makes me exhausted.  I am going to try.  Even though everything I cook lately comes out terribly, even though it will wear me out.  Sometimes I think I don’t express enough gratitude for all the does for us.  He is the unsung hero, here in the family, holding us up, when he himself can barely stand.   So while he might not be able to work, he is providing something so much more important than financial support, he is carrying the weight of it all on him. I will never be able to pay him back for all he does.  I just wish my family could see the tremendous amount he contributes to our lives.  I wish they would look at him the way I look at him and see a hero.

What’s wrong with me?

So I mentioned my newest diagnosis, and I mentioned that I weaned off the amitriptyline in hopes that would help with the symptoms of the Autonomic Nervous System Disorder. However, it didn’t help.  And they have started me on a new antidepressant- Doxepim. I am on a very low dose. And ever since we have started the Doxepim 10 days ago I have been angry, irritable, sad, frustrated. I haven’t been the nicest person, nor the easiest to be around.

I am unhappy.  I am not content.  I am tired of living hand to mouth with no end in sight. I am on disability, my husband is waiting for his disability decision.  We will never have financial security.

And it really ticks me off that you can’t be honest with even your therapist or else she thinks you are on foot in the grave to offing yourself. So I am resentful- of pretty much everything and everyone in my life (with a few exceptions).  I am tired of this life.  So yes I fantasize about ways I could die.  Today’s version in my head has me walking out to the car, slipping on the ice, hitting my head and never “coming to” again.  But I can’t tell anyone that, they try to make me think “positive”, “look for the blessings”, and to that I say (and please let me warn you have to take off my Christian hat for a minute) go to hell. Seriously.  Shut up and leave me alone.  Just go away. Leave me alone with my intrusive, unhealthy thoughts. I don’t think I want to change right now. I think I am better off being miserable, because my life sucks, period, end of story.

And then. Then… get this. I get a call from my PCP’s office.  From “my doctor’s” nurse (I have been seeing a different doctor in the office.  And she says “we got the results of your halter and you had a normal rhythm with some extra beats here and there, but it was essentially normal ok?”.  And I was like ACTUALLY…I was in there last week, and Dr so and so, read the draft report and reported that my heart rate was 150 several times, and ranged from 120-150 most often.  And that my diastolic blood pressure is ranging from 87-117 and she diagnosed me with Autonomic Nervous System Dysfunction. And she’s like oooooh yeah I see that here.  Dr PCP may not had seen that before this came across his desk.  And then she proceeded to explain to me how to increase the meds etc. UM HELLO I thought you said I was fine?  Yeah I know Dr PCP blames it all on the fact that I am fat. This is also the same PCP that said a vitamin D level of 15 was just fine (I guess I should just die because I am fat. I am so angry and sick of this BS.

Why do I even bother.   Maybe I should just go off all my meds and just see what happens because I am done.  Nothing I helping anyway, and maybe if I go off the heat stuff my heart will just get to be as tired as I am and be done too.  I am just so exhausted, hopeless and done.

Yesterday at church my pastor was talking about “spiritual Sahara”, and that’s where I am right now.  He said when you are there hope evaporates and dreams die. I couldn’t have summed up my life right now any better.  My hope is dried up and dead, and my dreams are ran through a garbage disposal, put in a trash compactor, flushed down the toilet and sorted out with all the other solids in the waste water treatment plant.

Yes this is a pessimistic post.  Yes, its me throwing a pity party.  Yes its me being angry, resentful and tired of living my life.  But guess what, it’s my blog and I’ll bitch if I want to.



A Year Already?

Yesterday when after I posted about the book, I saw the archived posts link on my front page, and I saw January 2017, my first thought was no way, I started this thing a year ago? And I clicked on it, and to my surprise yes- it had been a year today since I started this blog.

There hasn’t been much change in me in a year.  But I don’t know if I should expect there to be. It’s taken almost 40 years to get to this point, I can’t expect that in a short year I can undo all the damage that has been done.

My family has seen some changes- my husband closed his business and is unable to work, I stopped homeschooling and both of my kids are in public school and doing well.

But I have found a voice.  A place where I can lay it all out.  Sure I hide behind the screen.  I haven’t shared my name, or where I am from.  And only a few people I know in real life read this blog.

Well happy blogversary to me!

Catching Up

Another week has passed and I haven’t had the….. motivation to write. It’s been a really long week.  Monday was uneventful I think, I can’t even remember it.  But Tuesday was horrific.  Tuesday we had a snow day because of the impending weather- snow, ice, freezing rain…fun fun fun.  I had an appointment to meet my new counselor, who I am already trying to come up with a name for… I also had a PT appointment, YES I am STILL in PT for my ankle sprains. So ridiculous how long this is taking to heal.

Anyway, my med doctor A.K.A. Mary Poppins had asked me to call on Monday with how I felt after her upping my Amitriptyline, at that point I had a 200mg bedtime dose and a 50mg dose in the A.M. I told her that I thought maybe I wasn’t quite so depressed, but I also couldn’t stay awake and that my heart rate was still through the roof (it was 129 at my last appointment with her).  Her nurse called me on Tuesday AM and said Mary Poppins wants you to cut out my morning dose, and call my PCP about the heart rate, and to callback on Friday telling her how I felt. So I called my PCP and explained what was going on.  They had me come in immediately. My resting pulse when I got there was 130 beats per minute. Then they did an EKG and they tell me that was normal except for the heart rate- and though I am not a doctor, they were comparing my EKG I had for surgery clearance a couple months ago to the one that day and to my non-doctor eyes thinks it looks much different but I have to trust they wouldn’t tell me it was fine when it wasn’t.  The next step was blood work, CBC and complete metabolic panel.  They called me Wednesday, blood work all came back fine- so it’s not an underlying illness causing this.

The next step is that I have to wear a cardiac halter for a couple days, they want to measure my heart activity day and night and see the trends. I go for that on Monday. Once those results come back? Who knows.  Am I scared? Definitely.  I have other symptoms, tightness in my chest, light headedness, breathlessness.

I let Mary Poppins know yesterday since I was in her office for something else yesterday, I also gave her a copy of my lab work. She told me to cut my nighttime 200mg dose down to 150mg and call Monday to tell her how I am feeling.  I just took my pulse before I started writing this and it was 136- Just sitting here in my recliner. It’s concerning to me. They were trying to give me information but all they did was successfully make me even more anxious- they said the danger of my heart being this time all the time is that my heart muscle will wear our and I will be at increased risk for heart attack and stroke.  Great! Tell the woman with severe anxiety that she might drop dead.

Needless to say I missed my appointment to meet my new counselor(way to make a first impression). Of course I called twice keeping them updated where I was at with my PCP.  And I cancelled my PT for that day.  The weather was horid and I didn’t feel much like going out again.

So what’s causing my heart to race like this?  Well there are three possibilities- 1. a reaction to my amitriptyline.  That would be a simple fix, stop that medication- however I have exhausted the search for a med that helps with the depression, this marginally did something, but we were working on upping the dose so it could help with the anxiety and hopefully kick this depression out. So it would stink to go off this medication.  But hopefully Mary Poppins has more stuff in her never-ending bag. 2.  Anxiety.  This would be a simple and my preference.  We can medicate the anxiety- I have been feeling anxous – no panicked- constantly, except that my heartt symptoms could be giving me a false sense that I am panicked. The 3rd option is my least favorite, that there is something wrong with my heart. THAT scares me, A LOT. Between this, and my oldest having a cold, my OCD is in overdrive.  Yesterday hubby touched my hand when he was handing me something and I had to wash my hands…I stripped our bed, showered twice, I just couldn’t stop.  It was a forceI couldn’t stop.  I was panicked and jumpy all day. It was NOT fun.

I just took my pulse after I finished that paragraph it was 152.  Sitting here, in my recliner typing and listening to Christian music. But I could feel a tightness in my chesst so I wanted to check it. And it was just as I feared- WAY too high. I hope we have answers soon.

And as if all of that wasn’t enough- hubby hurt his back AGAIN, his herniation still isn’t better, and he was walking our daughter home from school, he stepped in a hole and now his back hurts where it consistenly hurt, but now it also hurts higher up- he went for an MRI yesterday and we will see what the results of that are.

Our family just can’t seem to catch a break.  We are definitely facing trials in all parts of our life, but we have faith God will hear our prayers and give us peace with it all, because God is good all the time, and all the time God is good.

Until next time….

Best year ever?

I was looking on Amazon and tonight or I guess since it’s 2 AM this morning, at planners. I have two planners downstairs for 2018 and I just can’t bring myself to use either of them I don’t like either of them. I like my 2017 planner it had coloring pages, it was spiral-bound, I just liked it.

Then I decided I was going to do bullet journaling. I bought a bullet journal, I’ve watched a ton of YouTube videos have a very large Pinterest board dedicated to bullet journaling, but as the new year grew closer I realized I would never keep up with it, it’s just too much work.

Hence my search tonight on Amazon. And I came across a planner that had “Best Year Ever” on the cover. I stared at it for a long time and just couldn’t wrap my head around it… best year ever? There’s no way. Will it beat 2017? I sure as heck hope so, but best year ever? What about the year I met my husband? Or the year my son was born, or the year my daughter was born?

Why would I buy that? Some people might think it’s thinking positively- but I think it’s setting unrealistic expectations of the coming year that can only serve as another avenue of disappointment.

My goals for 2018 are simple-

1. Make it till 2019

2. Read 52 books

3. Do my quiet time at least 300 times. When I am closer to Jesus, and reading His word, I am a better me.

Well I guess that’s all. This will likely be the last post of 2017, and all I can say as 2017 closes is – “don’t let the door hit you on the way out. ” Let’s hope 2018 is at least marginally better. But if I’m being totally honest I don’t hold a lot of hope- I turn 40 this year. I’m dreading it. My birthdays always suck, I’m the biggest I’ve ever been, there is always drama with my father, and my kids are growing up. 2018 brings 15 and 8. I don’t have babies anymore. I’ll never have babies anymore. That part of my life is over- and I’m not ready.

But when I think of 3am feedings, sleepless nights and colic- I remember the bad parts of babyhood… besides I’ve had a hysterectomy- so it’s not in my future. I need to find a life. But I guess I need to figure out my identity first…. I e got a lot of work to do.

Memory Problems

The memory problems associated with ECT can be quite unnerving.  I picked up my glass 4-cup measuring cup off the counter today and stared at it.  I couldn’t remember where it went.  No matter how long I looked or how hard I tried to remember it was gone, poof.  I had to ask my son where it went.  It seemed like such a stupid question- it’s my kitchen!

It’s so weird to be doing something normal and the memory to be gone.  I wonder if it’ll come back, or if some of my memory will always be gone.

I have had 3 ECT treatments, I don’t really notice much of a difference yet.  But I don’t think I’m expected to, I think I am supposed to have 9-12 treatments.  

My brain doesn’t work as well as it did.  But I think it’s supposed to get better.  It’s taken me a while to write this because my train of thought doesn’t flow like it used to.  But my brain seems to work just fine when I’m having anxiety.  Of course <insert eye roll> I wish that the ECT would make the anxiety go away the way some of my memories have….

I guess that’s all I have to say…. I’m sure there was more I intended to tell you all, but it’s disappeared like my memories.