More about my brain..

Hubby and I were talking about my double brain and I told him that my anxiety used to try to organize it all… and ow because anxiety is muted when it tries to organize OCD yells at anxiety because it’s not organized enough, and this doesn’t go next to that.  And then the depression says it’s too much work just leave it- let it be and embrace the chaos and go to sleep. And PTSD is always on watch that OCD not touch certain things even to organize them because that’ll burn.  It’s a mess in my head!!!

Another Day with PollyAnna

Whew what a session today. She called me out on every time I avoided, or tried to change the subject.

Today we talked about mom’s non response- which she has responded now. I am still processing the response but it’s better than I expected.

I don’t remember all the stuff we talked about, I was on screech today, jumping from topic to topic until we got to the topic of my brain, and how I feel like it’s separated into two parts. One side is orderly.  It’s where I keep this filing cabinet of information, facts, dates, numbers, things I can pull out of a hat to impress people with my knowledge and my intelligence. I need validation and praise. I thrive on it, it’s like a drug.

The other half of my brain is chaos it’s where everything else is.  That’s where everything else is.  The negative feelings, negative self talk, sadness abuse, avoidance, feeling not good enough etc etc.

And I’m standing between A double yellow line trying to walk in both parts of my brain. My sister calls that ambivalence I call it exhaustion…

I don’t know what I would look like without chaos in my brain, and I worry that I would look like a super Duper control freak if I I only had order, my sister wants to know why order has to equal control and that’s a question I can’t answer. How can it not equal control because in order to have order someone has to set up that order.

Pollyanna asked if I’m ready to live without The chaos and to be honest with you I don’t know.


I have been thinking a lot about fathers.  Both father figures in my life have done nothing but disappoint me, and misuse me, in one way or another. It makes me feel very insecure  about relationships, especially with men, even my poor husband- and we have been together for 22 years.  I have issues with men in general, doctors, men in authority positions, I am very uncomfortable around them.

But it also affects my relationship with my Heavenly Father. It’s hard to imagine that there is a Father that loves me, no matter what I do, say, look like; no matter what mistakes I make.  I work hard to follow that little voice inside of the Holy Spirit so that I can always be in His will.

But I have been thinking about the text from last weekend, and maybe God is 1. Reminding me that no earthly father will ever compare to Him, and that I need to put more trust into Him, and to spend more time with Him. So I have restarted my Quiet Time first thing in the morning.

I have also been thinking that maybe God is pointing me back to unresolved issues with my biological father.  That while my step father is a father figure, I need to learn to forgive better, and learn how to have a relationship with my biological father, even though we have had the tumultuous relationship we have had, despite the fact that he continues to misuse me- maybe it’s through that relationship that I will find my voice.

I don’t know.  These are all thoughts that are just jumbled in my brain right now, and I am going to work through this texting debacle with PollyAnna on Thursday.  I did talk to Mary Poppins about it yesterday and she assured me, that first there is not one grain of truth in the text.  That it was way over the top, crossed so many lines and was lies though she doesn’t believe they were malicious intent simply ignorant and coming from the mind of someone who spends 24/7 on marijuana.  She is not a Dr against pot, but she also doesn’t feel it’s a 1 size fits all the way this person does.

Anyway, I obviously still have a lot to process, and to work through.  And I still need to decide if I am going to 1. reply to him and 2. tell my mom.

I don’t think I mentioned…. or it just goes to show how pathetic I am.

Not too long after my father told me that he was done with me, that he wouldn’t talk to me anymore, after he rejected me once again, he started calling again.

He’s been calling several times day, and surprisingly been pretty pleasant which usually leads up to unpleasantness…. but here’s what really bothers me about this story…

He has NOT called my sister. He won’t.  But he calls me because he knows I am so desperate to be loved I will take whatever anyone will give me, any scrap, no matter how unhealthy or not good for me. He knows, no matter what horror he has done I will take him back with open arms.

I am so pathetic.

And now, every time my text message dings I get a sick feeling in my stomach, worried it’s that family member again with more to say.  He has now added to my PTSD. Thanks so much.

I’m a Hot Mess and I admit it….

I am addicted to  The items are cheap, some of them cheaply made, ok many of them cheaply made, but I don’t care, it helps my shopping compulsion and I have gotten some really cute stuff.  My favorite so far is this shirt….


It reminds me that no matter how much I fail every day, how crappy I feel, no matter how bad my anxiety and depression is, Jesus loves me. Jesus loves ME. And since it is a triune relationship Jesus= God  It’s so hard for me to remember that, that no matter how much I am of a hot mess, He still loves me. The relationship I have with my earthly father is all mixed up with my Heavenly Father.  Im not good enough for my earthly father, I have been abandoned, abused, mistreated, and unloved at times by my father. So it’s hard to believe that there is a father out there that loves me unconditionally- no matter how much of a hot mess I am.

Today I haven’t had too bad of a day, but I have done absolutely nothing. I got up close to 10am, ate breakfast and slept till 2 when my sister called to talk more about my dad and his poor choices.  I haven’t heard from him today, which worries me a little, but at the same time makes me feel a little freer.  I am trying not to worry, and remember until he is deemed incompetent (which should have happened months ago) he is allowed to do whatever he wants and make whatever (poor) decisions he wants. We have made multiple reports to adult protective services, as have visiting nurses, and doctor’s.  There’s no more we can do. It’s in God’s hand’s now. I can only hope God intervenes in time- the thought of him dying lying dead on the floor of a hotel room is sad. And he’s told me when he leaves this hotel he won’t tell me where he’s going so I can’t get him help, so he doesn’t want my help. So at least I know I can’t do anything. I don’t know why it matters so much to me, he’s not been nice to me, especially the past couple days.  He’s been yelling at me, he has been treating me terribly. But I will continue to “honor my father” without allowing him to abuse me.

My brain doesn’t seem to be working well tonight so I guess that’s all-

Until next time….










Something we haven’t talked about…

Facial hair.

I was blessed  cursed with something known as Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS).  Among the symptoms are-

Symptoms include menstrual irregularity, excess hair growth, acne, and obesity.
People may experience:
Menstrual: abnormal menstruation, absence of menstruation, heavy menstruation, irregular menstruation, short and light menstruation, or spotting
Weight: obesity, overweight, or weight gain
Skin: acne or oily skin
Also common: infertility, depression, inappropriate male features, loss of scalp hair, or unwanted hair
Sounds like a party you want to be invited to right? I can still remember the day I was diagnosed. I was 18 years old, and devastated.  The doctor really stressed how difficult it would be to have children. The only thing I ever wanted in my whole life. I was infertile. My son was conceived via InVitro Fertilization.  My daughter was a miracle that we are still confounded about 7 years later.
I obviously have weight gain….duh.  As for menstruation TMI but I had a hysterectomy for reasons related to the PCOS and others. So hey at least there’s no problems there anymore.
My skin is dry not oily thanks to the bladder meds I take – so another win, right?
Depression- huh (insert sarcasm)
Loss of scalp hair- check. I seem to be losing it in 2 ways, one a receding hairline, as well as an all around general thinning. Not to mention I am more than 40% gray, and have several white eyelashes.
Which brings us to the topic of this post unwanted hair. Oh yes. Specifically facial hair.  I can mostly hide the other places where hair grows or remove it. But my face is a problem. I don’t want to shave, I have seen how hair thickens, and grows closer together looking more manish- so I pluck, each and every last hair on my chin, cheeks, sideburns, upper lip and lower lip. It’s getting harder and harder with my carpal tunnel, I can’t feel the tweezers and I often grab skin and pull because I am so numb.
Tonight I asked my husband if he thought if I shaved just this once it would ruin all I have been working on since I was in 7th grade? He said no.  But I still plucked 90% of it. I couldn’t risk it. I have tried nair, bleach, plucking, waxing, none of it is fun, none of it without it’s side effects. All I know is when I realize I went too long before plucking I am mortified.  That happened today. I was walking into the bathroom I looked in that huge vanity mirror we discussed in an earlier post and I could see my “beard” from the other side of the room.
All I could think about was the fact that I went to see Mary Poppins today, and not only was my hair greasy from not showering today, I just wasn’t up to it, but I looked like I belonged in the circus. I was mortified. And when I asked my husband about his razor I felt I had hit a new low. I started crying.  I can feel the tears stinging my eyes right now.
I have seen women out there that do nothing about theirs, I have seen women I know who shave, and they are so brave.  For me it’s my shameful secret, I can think of an handful of people I have ever talked to about this in my entire life.
I wish I could say there are only a handful of people who know about it, people see it every day.  Hubby says no, that no one notices.  But he wasn’t there in middle school when I would hear a certain boy call me “big guy” and rub his mustache (or where his would be had he had one).  He wasn’t there when my dad told me I really needed to do something about my sideburns and mustache. I was maybe 11 or 12, and I can picture exactly the places I was when I heard “big guy” from down the hallway (I was also overweight)…. I can remember escaping into the bathroom to have a good cry.  I remember hating myself.
I don’t know if I ever remember a time when I didn’t hate myself.  When I had someone on my side, that had me convinced I was ok. I do now, but the damage is done. I spent the first 17 years of my life being made fun of at home and at school.  Hearing how I was nothing, a zero, a she-man, a fool, ugly, fat, stupid, numb.  Those are my labels.  Not too long ago I posted on my Facebook wall asking for people to give me a label.  Every one of them was good- of course they were like someone is going to put idiot, fatty or hairy on another adults wall, but I wrote them all down, I looked them over and tucked them away. I don’t feel like they belong to me. I feel like they belong to some other version of me.  Not the version I live, not the version I feel like.
I know as a Christian I am supposed to define myself by who I am in Christ, but it’s so hard to undo all those years of taunts and things I believed as truths.  That’s when my brain was the most influenced.  It’s just like they say little kids learn things like foreign languages faster than others because their brains are sponges… it works in reverse too.  Those sponges pick up the dirt you serve them. And if you have ever cleaned your kitchen sponge after it starts to smell you know that no matter how many cycles you run it through the washing machine and dryer, the microwave or the dishwasher, the smell never completely comes out.  I think it’s the same with people.  I don’t know that I will ever completely let go of the horrible labels that were given to me as a child. I just can’t even imagine what it would be without those labels.
When I look at myself in the mirror I look and see someone who is fat, ugly, unhappy, hairy (unless I just plucked), graying, losing my hair. I can’t even tell you a good feature of my face. I am not joking, or exaggerating- if you asked me my best feature I couldn’t answer, at one point in time it was my collar bones – I was so happy to have collar bones you could see, but now, there isn’t a single part of me physically I like. Nonphysically? That I would lay down my life for those I care about. That’s about the best thing I can say about myself.
Wow- this was a poor me post. If you made it this far, you deserve a medal.  Im down tonight, between Mary Poppins, some stuff that happened with my dad today (that I will talk about tomorrow- maybe) and the plucking/shaving Im at a low point. So please bear with me.
Until next time…..

Hurting- physically- my hip 

My hip has been sore most of the day today, of course I did a few things that were not probably the best decision-I switched over the laundry and I accidentally bent over a couple times.  It’s hard to remember not to do things that you’ve done since you were probably a toddler.

But I’m also working really hard to recover without pushing myself too hard but maybe I am pushing myself too hard. I feel like there’s no visible change in my mental health status so I want to see progress in some area of my life.

I’m really not sure going off the Latuda was a good thing or not. I don’t have that overwhelming exhaustion in the morning which is a good thing but I don’t feel any better then again I don’t feel any worse. I find it hard to believe that my Thyroid could be the culprit of all of this I think maybe it’s a piece but I know that my thyroid didn’t cause my PTSD or my OCD or my anxiety those have been hanging around following me like a shadow my entire life the depression comes and goes although it seems to set up camp almost permanently lately.

We’re going to miss church tomorrow I think I’m going to listen to one of the CDs of the previous weeks that I’ve missed because I really feel like I need a recharge of my soul that I’m not getting elsewhere because you can’t get it elsewhere. The TVs been on a lot so I haven’t heard a lot of worship music though I have been praying a lot, for a friend who has a prodigal daughter I can’t imagine the pain she’s feeling she wants her daughter back so much.

Well I took two Percocet about 45 minutes ago they’re going to kick in real soon so I better go. 

Until next time…