The Grinch Who Stole Thanksgiving.

That’s how I feel.  I decided I couldn’t handle a big Thanksgiving this year, it was just too much – the cooking, the dishes, the family, the stress, did I mention the cooking?   Well my 7 year old daughter is devastated.  She thinks it’s not thanksgiving if we don’t stay home and mama cooks.  I feel guilty, I feel like I should just suck it up and do Thanksgiving.  I feel like I am ruining the day for everyone else because of my inability to cope with life. I never thought I would say this, but I miss PollyAnna, I need someone to talk to.  I am so lonely.  I am tired of laying all my crap on hubby, and I just don’t feel like I need to burden my friends with my continuous stream of consciousness of self-loathing, self hatred and all the other random things I worry about and think about.  But I feel so beat down right now.

I went out with 2 of my friends on Friday to see Bad Mom’s Christmas- first of all WOAH I didn’t expect some of that content, and had to go home and pray after that 😉 But we had a good time, except about 6 times during the movie I quietly let tears run down my cheeks.  For all different reasons…. relationships with their own mothers vs mine.  That they could be so happy.  I don’t remember the last time I was truly HAPPY.  That’s not true.  It was October 2014.  It’s gone down hill since then, getting worse day by day.

I pray, constantly, unceasingly like we are called to. I ask God to take this from me. To make me ME again. To as Jesus said “let this cup pass from me”. I do my quiet time every morning. I just feel like I should be able to “pray it away”. After all miracles happen all the time.  But it seems that no amount of praying is going to take this from me.  I am not me.  I am not the mother and wife I want to be. I am not the person I want to be. I want to be able to give my daughter the Thanksgiving she wants. I feel so selfish doing this. I can’t stop the running commentary of guilt in my head, the horrible things I am thinking about myself.  That I can’t give her this.

Then tonight, she told me for the first time (of many) I am sure, that I am ruining her life. I know I shouldn’t have let it bother me, or taken it so personally, but that cut me to the quick.  Because of everyone in the world her approval and love is what I strive for- probably because it would be the closest thing to me loving me that I will ever experience.  I tried to leave the house and run away.  I That was just what my mom would have done.  But I had to come in and change because I was in my inside clothes and she begged me not to leave – the same thing I used to do to my mom.  I immediately put myself in her place and hated myself. She was crying and saying she was sorry.  I told her I accepted her apology, but I think this will be a scar we both carry forever, I know I will. I will never forget the look in her eyes- pleading, with big tears, just the same as I used to have. I can’t believe I tried to do that to her. I hate myself so much.  Sometimes I feel like a waste of space on earth.  I know it sounds dramatic, but I am just so broken. I don’t know what my purpose is, I am a crap mother and wife right now.

There’s really nothing else left to say.

Slacking off….

I have really been neglecting my blog lately.  I just feel like I don’t have anything new to say. Life marches on, passes me by while I waste time at dr appointments, napping, or just letting the time pass.

I think I mentioned that PollyAnna is leaving. I need to find a new therapist – which is going to be hard for me, I don’t like change, I don’t like transitions and finding someone else to pour my heart out to, to get vulnerable with is going to be hard.   Today I “interviewed” the one in the office next to PollyAnna, she seemed ok, but she is not a Christian.  Now before you all jump down my throat the reason I asked her this is that I really think that in order to get better I have to draw closer to God, and I think I need a counselor who will ground his/her foundation on the THE foundation, THE cornerstone- Jesus. It was interesting because I told her that I prefer to be called by my nickname and not my given name.  And at the end of our session PollyAnna said in all our sessions, never once did you ever tell me you prefer to be called by your nickname.  I found it curious and interesting because I usually lead with that because I am not a huge fan of my “real” name.

I am working on the national novel writing month, and I met day 1 goal but I hate the story, and the writing so I am going to have to start over.   Which intimidates me and makes me upset.

Also I realized something else about myself, I am a slave to routine, to my calendar and to what is planned.  Yesterday I was supposed to get my hair cut but my stylist was out sick with walking pneumonia and I freaked out, I HAD to get my hair cut yesterday, it was on the schedule I had to do it.  PollyAnna says that’s my OCD, whatever it is, I never realized how bad it was.

Yesterday Big One asked me if I was going to go along with my deal, I said what deal? He said that you can’t listen to Christmas music until November 1.  I hadn’t even remembered that deal, and I had and still have no desire to listen to the music (heck I forgot about trick or treat till my kids reminded me.  It makes me sad that I haven’t started my tradition. I am usually Christmas obsessed, but this depression has taken that from me too.  It’s taking parts of my personality one little bit at a time.

Well have to get my monsters off to bed so I better go but I will write again soon.

What a Day!

My day started with Big One’s first day of public high school.  It seemed to have gone well, but it’s hard to tell with him.

Then I finally got my Dad on the phone I hadn’t talked to him in over a week, and I sort of miss his calls….. maybe not all of them…. but anyway he was irate, argumentative and and downright mean. Even going so far to say “do you really think that was the best choice” regarding sending the kids to Schoo… Even though he knows nothing of the gut wrenching heartache it was making that choice.

I was crying hysterically in the car… Got to counseling only to find out that my counselor is leaving and I only have 3 more sessions with her- PollyAnna is abandoning me like everyone else does.  Now I have to find another therapist…. or not.

After I left her office I was upset to say the least and I was headed out of town to meet with the Psychiatry department at the hospital for a consult for  my ECT  (electro shock therapy) treatments.  On the way there, I wasn’t “all there” the way many of us are when we have driving amnesia.  I was speeding, 70 in  55.  Ticket. $182. OUCH.  I will contest it to hopefully get the fine reduced.  I don’t really think I was going that fast but I didn’t argue. I took my punishment and off I went.

He took a pretty through history, had me crying some more, and spent a lot of time being quiet if I wasn’t talking and I told him it made me nervous when he was quiet.  He said because of my many failed meds, it would make ECT less effective, about a 50/50 shot it would work.  But he believes that just continuing to try different meds is a 10% chance. Not great odds any way you look at it. So I consented to the treatment.  He said some people, especially people with lots of trauma and with extended periods of depression (hello that’s me), sometimes never get better.   I looked at him and said so you are saying this may be as good as it gets- forever.  That forever I won’t want to die but I won’t want to live either? And he said it’s a possibility.  The thought of living like this for the next 50 years is even more depressing.

After I left there with my first treatment scheduled, I headed straight to OT, since I didn’t have much time to get there… I made it 5 mis or so late only to find out that my calendar – paper and electric were wrong.  This has been happening way too much lately. I can’t tell you how many times I have screwed up bills, appointments — everything in the past month or 2.  I told the dr I need a RAM dump.  I have given everyone a piece of me to take care of them and there is nothing left for me.

My brother made a comment about free time now that the kids are in school, and I said yeah right.  Screenshotted my calendar for October and his response was that they need 2 of me. SO SO SO true.  But I get the good half 😉

Tomorrow its treatment plan for the med cinic an then to see Dr. Handsome.  He will look at my left him but I have been having the same sorts of pain on the right side, I am falling a lot and have terrible balance, tripping on things, things I never would have done.

I don’t think I mentioned I fell walking little one home and sprained my ankle bad, on m good leg.  Which was already giving me trouble, so now my left hurts from compensating  to help my right hip and ankle.  I am so broken.

I know God has. a reason for this, but I hope this season is short.

Bad Mom???

Here I am sitting in the car my daughter soccer game/practice. I know that I should get a lawn chair out and go sit and watch her play but I want to just sit in the car maybe read, or listen to an audiobook or maybe even scratch. I’ve been feeling the urge all day,  trying to decide if I want to or not. I think it’s crazy that I can control whether I do it or not It’s not an in voluntary thing I make the decision and I do it.  

Who Would consciously decide to hurt themselves what kind of person what’s wrong with them in their head why does the pain matter it’s not like the pain you feel of the depression or the anxiety or the OCD with the PTSD or what other acronym you want to use it goes away… And then there is the fact that I don’t know if I’m sinning.  That’s a lie, I know I’m sending I am defacing God’s temple because God said our bodies are a temple. But I don’t stop . The scrapes and scratches and scabs from the last time ate going away and I think that’s part of why I want to do it again because I need them there to remind me of the pain somehow I don’t I don’t even know.

I haven’t talk to my dad and days we didn’t leave things in a very good note I don’t know if I should call him or not I did hear through the grapevine that he still in the hospital and has not been released to the Long-term care facility, I don’t know if that’s his doing or if there is or if he’s too sick. I just don’t know if I should call him I get a pit in my stomach every time I think about calling him, but part of me thinks it’s the right thing to do. But he Always messes with my mental health, so the survival instinct in me doesn’t want me to call… Stay tuned for when I decide to do. 

I’m happy news my blog now has 100 followers.  100 People read a blog that I wrote and decided to follow me. That makes me feel good.

I’m a bad Christian

I say that I’m bad Christian because when times get tough we’re supposed to turn to Christ for strength, we’re supposed to let him carry our burdens.  But I don’t. I brood. I get anxious. I get angry. I get frustrated.  I get depressed. 

Tonight I scratched- found that a safety pin does the job way better than keys. I did both sides of both arms and on the inside of my right arm I scratched Just Like Him. 

I feel like all these feelings are going to make me just like my dad.  I won’t let it happen. I won’t. 

I know I need to pray.  I know I need Jesus, but I feel like I’m Peter sinking in the waves because my eyes are off Jesus. I need prayers.  I need to focus on Him and not on the crap around me. 

Time Spent Apart

Many couples I know like to vacation apart, or take some time with couple days, or weekend apart- but I can honestly say with every fiber of my being that being away from my husband is like not having half of myself. He is my heart and my soul. I haven’t seen him since Friday evening and it seems like an eternity.

For 22 years and 139 days we have spent every minute we possibly could with each other. I was 17 years old when I met him, he was only 16. Our friends and family said it would never last, young love isn’t real, that we were too young to know what we wanted, that we spent too much time together. From the day I met him I knew that there was nobody else for me. He has always made me feel like I’m the only woman in the world. It didn’t matter what I looked like, what I was wearing, or the state of my mental health he loves me no matter what. No matter what.

All I ever wanted is the child was to be loved, to be good enough, to be smart enough, to be pretty enough, so that I would fit the mold my family wanted. But when he walked into my life he broke the mold and told me without words than I am my own mold and he loves that mold.

And even though I have been struggling with my own mental health and demons from my past he still loves me, despite his own physical struggles he has stepped up – he does all the cooking he helps school the children he does the things that I just can’t bring myself to do he serves me, he exemplifies a Christlike service and I am more than blessed to have him. I thank God every day for the man he put in my life, for the man that saved my life, and the man who has given me a life.

Babe I know you’re going to read this hopefully by the time you do you’ll be home but I still have a full day and a half away from you and it’ll be filled with missing you. I love you and I hope you’re having a fabulous time with the kids and your parents you deserve this time.

*** please excuse any typos or places where it doesn’t make sense I’m trying to use speech to text because tears are streaming down my face****

And the hits just keep coming…

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After a particularly tough session with PollyAnna I was headed to the pharmacy to pick up Big One’s prescription, and I broke my cardinal rule of driving ALWAYS check twice.  I thought the truck headed towards me had his blinker on, so I pulled out to turn left but nope, no blinker and I t-boned a poor old man.  He was crying, and so upset. We were lucky a state trooper was behind me so he helped divert traffic.

I haven’t processed the accident I don’t think.  I haven’t had any feelings about it, I mean I felt bad for the old man, and I was feeling sorry for myself, but I didn’t cry, I didn’t get anxious, I just was numb.  I still am, other than feelings sorry for myself, because nothing seems to be working out for us lately.

The way I explained it to my husband the other day is this:

I feel like I run from fire to fire putting them out all the while I’m burning and the running gives my own fire oxygen to burn more. It’s like on a plane put your mask on then help other my mask is missing and I’m running around burning to death.

I know that I am having a pity party because things just keep coming and coming and coming at us, and I just don’t know when it’s going to stop….

But tonight on the radio (I listen to contemporary Christian radio) they reminded us to pray for Houston. And it reminded me where I COULD be, there by the grace of God.