Do you ever pour your heart out into a post and never post it? Just save it to a draft and stuff the feelings down? I do.
Well, where HAVE I been? Trudging along; one baby step in front of the next.
I have more on my plate than I can possibly handle and it’s rearing it’s ugly head in my life in ways that increase my symptoms. I fly off the handle, constantly, at those who I love most. I’m tired. My feelings toward myself are the lowest they’ve been in a while.
I lose my patience with everyone- especially my children. And then I hate myself. I try so hard, do so well then become unraveled at bedtime and become a tyrant.
So many days I want to just pack up and leave. I’ve thought a lot about that in the past week. I suck at taking care of people, and it doesn’t seem to be getting better
I just went back and read the last post I wrote, and I’m stuck there. I’m still thinking about “shining” every.single.day. And the closer we get to the anniversary of my “breakdown” the more edgy I get.
There have been some issues with little one at school and I find myself in the middle of a battle with the School AGAIN. And that brings my PTSD screaming back like a maniac which puts me in fight or flight with the very people I’m trying to help.
I’m useless. I say hurtful things. That’s the hardest part. That’s the part that makes me just want to lay in the road and die. I’m just a failure- just like my family believes- they’ve always been right about me- I should just accept it.
I have spent a good amount of time thinking about my last post. About how I don’t really “LIVE”. And the goal of my DBT group is to “have a life worth living”.
So HOW do I live? How do I go out and find happiness, how do I find joy? I think I have something like a sleep mask over my eyes. Not only can I not see what’s right in front of my face, I can’t see far enough to find things I enjoy.
I was going to make this post a lot longer, talking about all the things I “used” to enjoy. All the things that helped me live. But the more I thought about the things I lost, the tighter I felt blinded from seeing joy.
This, I need to figure out.
I can’t let go of the text my mom sent about 6 months ago saying she wasn’t disappointed in ME, but that I don’t have the support I need to SHINE. I keep mulling the word over, trying to figure out what exactly I would need to do to shine, and I just was coming up empty until tonight,
Hubby and I were watching a movie and two people were cliff diving. I made an offhand comment that I would love to do that, that it looks like fun, but in the next breath said I would be too scared. I said “I am too scared to go out in our yard at night” and hubby said “you’re too scared to go out in the daylight”.
The sad thing is, he’s right. And maybe that’s what my mom means. I’m don’t live my life, I’m too scared of everything. I merely get by from day to day, trying not to mess things up too badly. And in all the “getting by”, I never live.
I’m too afraid to fail. I’m too afraid I’ll do something wrong. I’m too afraid germs will make me sick. I’m too afraid of screwing up my kids. Fear runs my life. I can’t plan everything when I leave my bubble so something unpredictable might happen, and that thing might be bad, and bad is… bad.
My brain instantly goes to worst-case scenario, and then all the ways to prevent that. It’s exhausting. So it’s easier to just not live than to risk it all…. and therefore I will never shine.
Well at least I think I have figured that problem out. Can’t have unclosed loops.
Please, don’t judge, there is really no structure to this poem, but it’s not a story, or a “post”. But tonight was a really bad night, and I let my pen just scrawl along.
I feel the familiar “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh” of the blood in my ears.
My heart is racing, pulse is 120.
There’s a buzzing in my body.
I’m sweating, everywhere, even my legs.
My brain is going to dark, dark, places.
I want to see the red blood coming out of my arms.
I want to see the raised skin of the scratch.
I want to feel the sting and burn of the cuts.
I want my brain to stop.
FAT, UGLY, HIDEOUS, GROSS.
Bad mom, yeller, ineffective.
Bad wife, “makes” hubby do all the cooking and clean
up from meals, undermines his discipline.
LOSER, CAN’T FINISH ANYTHING, STUPID
Will never change.
Always a victim.
Don’t SHINE, am a disappointment.
Not good enough, NEVER enough.
Undermines my own dreams.
I sit, tears brimming, threatening to spill over.
I sit at my desk all the things I used to use to cut at my disposal.
But I can’t cut, no matter how much I want to, I’m on blood thinners. I don’t want to ruin my kids’ life any more than I already have.
So I push it down, down, down. The whooshing, shaking, and sweating gets worse. My head pounds too.
How long can I do this? How long will I have to do this?
No one is going to save me, or the little girl inside. Together we will drown and choke on our labels; the labels of rejection and the labels we give ourselves. Never truly happy; never truly whole—
Big one is 15. He is argumentative, oppositional, irritable and I am sure there are at least 15 more adjectives. And yes, all of that is “normal” teenage behavior- but add the Autism Spectrum, bipolar disorder, ADHD, anxiety and possible narcissistic personality. It’s teenager amplified.
Ive been trying to help him get ready for camp. He was leaving today. He wanted to bring half his stuff in random Walmart bags. He has ZERO executive functioning skills, and he refused to let me even make suggestions without getting angry and screaming at me (at the top of his lungs- I feel like he’s 8 again. (our worst year to date)).
We definitely are not getting along lately…. yet I am the one in his corner. I am the one making the cog wheels move so that he gets the help he needs, with the “least restrictive environment”.
But there are days I look at him, and I wonder what happened to my baby? I think back to the day I found out I was pregnant with him, after failed clomid, attempts, failed IUI attempts, and 2 in-vitro cycles, how happy I was. And when he was born, the struggles with his seizures, the struggle with developmental delays, giving him EVERYTHING I had. Driving him 80 miles 2x a week for OT, finding him every therapy we could get. I think about the year he was 8. The year he was violent, angry, physically abusive to me. And I feel like I earned a little bit easier teenage years. After all, we have his meds right, we have had therapy in place long enough. I just want peace. I want to remember these last few years as a teenager fondly, not with sadness, and regret.
My kids mean everything to me. They are my legacy, they are my best accomplishments, they are the best of me. They SHINE in every way I don’t. I gave them all my shine.
Maybe this is how all moms feel during the teenage years. But this is my first time being there, it hurts, and honestly PLEASE don’t tell me it’s all normal, I KNOW that in my head, but it’s my heart that hurts, and that will only get better with time.
Somedays are better than others. The past week or so has been rough. I’m sad again. It’s a life of ups and downs. But I don’t really want to get into that today because there is something else on my mind…
Today, my little one was walking around singing the song “A Millions Dreams” from The Greatest Showman movie. She’s never seen the movie so I had to ask her where she heard it, and she told me our friend’s car. This friend drove her to and from Vacation Bible School last week. I smiled.
I love that song. But I love even more that she loves that song. To me, that song epitomizes her. She is a dreamer, a free spirit, just an all around pretty awesome person.
I look forward to seeing her grow, I hope she never stops dreaming. I want to see her dreams realized in big ways.
There is something about her, when I look at her, I see it. I see her whole life laid out in front of me. I just hope she has the courage I never did. But no matter what her dreams are, what they become or who she becomes she will always shine brighter than the sun. Always.
For those who haven’t heard the song: https://youtu.be/-rxgAh1bnHU