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—
It’s been a while I know. I probably don’t even have any followers anymore. So…
Where have I been?
The past couple months I have been really focused on therapy. I have been seeing Princess Glitter Sparkle 1 hour a week for individual therapy, and 2 hours a week for group DBT (dialectical behavior therapy). It has been good for me. First, she is THE BOMB of therapists. Best one I have ever had. She is REAL, she is funny, she gets my humor, we laugh together, she’s gotten me to open up about stuff that’s hard. She’s quirky and washes her hands a lot, so she’s a real person. So all in all she’s awesome. And I am so blessed to have found her.
I have also been reading a lot. I have been both reading and listening to audiobooks like crazy. My goal for the year was 52 books, I have read 33 so far and am currently reading 4 more. Reading helps me escape. But not just into my own head, but into a story, that for the most part makes me feel good (I try not to read sad things but there was one recently that had me in tears- but good tears).
Did I talk about Fat Camp (medical weight management)? In case I didn’t- the dr was awesome. She was nice, and listened to everything I had to say. She was empathic and just nice- even if she was 15 pounds soaking wet, abut 9 feet tall, and looked like she was from Sweden. I met with the dietician, and while she was great, I just don’t know if I can do what they are asking of me – 1000-1200 calories a day, no carbs, put my body in ketosis and stay there, until goal “weight” which they wouldn’t tell me the ideal because they don’t want me focusing on a number (so why do they want me to weigh in every time???)- but here’s the problem, the hospital has decided after 8 years to cut the program. So after August 24 I have no support. So….yeah… Have considered a couple other “do-it yourself” programs. Anyone have long-term success with any? Comment here and let me know. The BEST thing about the program is they have this neat machine that you hook up to and breathe into for 10 minutes and it gives you your basil metobolic rate (basically how many calories you burn at rest) 1796 BTW.
I haven’t been leaving the house much. Even prior to my surgery (will get to that in a minute). I admit, I am not leaving the house much. Only to things I ABSOLUTELY have to do- therapy, appointments for the kiddos etc.
I had surgery a couple weeks ago, the same surgery I had last summer on my left hip but this time on my right hip. This time recovery hasn’t gone as smoothly.
- During recovery I stopped breathing several times – this has never happened before, so they think I have apnea and I am waiting on a sleep study. Fun. It really solidified in my mind how big I am getting and the fact that I really need to do something about it.
- I developed DVT (deep vein thrombosis – a blood clot) in my surgical leg just under a week after surgery. Thankfully hubby and I were paying attention to the signs, got to the dr and got treatment. I will be on blood thinners for 6 months and I should be fine (though at increased risk for DVT again). I was lucky the clot was below my knee (felt like a Charlie horse in my calf) because its much rarer for those to break up and go to the brain/lungs/heart. So thank God for that.
In Other news:
- I am still napping a lot- but is it escapism or because Im not sleeping well because of apnea (I wake up so tired, but I also can’t fall asleep at night) I think I have messed with my internal clock.
2. In general, I am feeling a bit better about life. I am not so down, and depressed. I don’t know when it happened, just one day I was like- “huh, doesn’t suck so bad today”. That’s not to say I am 100% awesome everyday, most days I don’t think that everything sucks.
3. Anxiety, OCD, and irritability are all in full swing. But I can’t expect that they will go away anytime soon, and I guess that’s ok.
Mental Health Summary: Not everything sucks. Still trying to isolate myself. But things aren’t quite as bad as they were.
Everything else: Day by day.
So there you have it. Until next time (which I hope won’t be as long).
Nothing has changed in 23 years. Back then I was the disruption to my husband’s family. I was the one ruining it. I was told time and time again. At one point fairly early into our relationship, sometime after we were engaged but nowhere near our wedding, I tried to end it. If I was ruining his life I wanted to fix it… In the parking lot of a grocery store, I tried to end things and give him back the ring. I’ve never seen him more sad, and more hurt. He made me promise to never do that again. He assured me I wasn’t ruining their family.
If you looked at highlight reels from 1995 to 2018 you would see all the times I was a disruption, not good enough, not good enough wife, not good enough hostess, not a good enough mother to stop autism, ADHD, anxiety, bipolar in my kids…. the list goes on. But tonight my husband was told “mental illness is a ‘disruption'” specifically my mental illness. And I should be better now.
What? Like it’s that easy? I snap my fingers and I’m cured! But I don’t, so I must like being like this. Like not wanting to ever leave the house, like sleeping all day, like being stuck in OCD loops and feeling out of control. I must like being so sick of germs I’m afraid to hug my kids, or let them sit with me in my chair. Yes I enjoy it all… could you all feel the sarcasm dripping there?
It’s always been about this person, it will always be about this person and I will never measure up. This person has always known just where to sucker punch me.