In an effort to be more productive….

The other day I was thinking about how much time I spend scrolling up and down my newsfeed, and refreshing over and over again.  I decided to shut off all notifications of facebook (but not messenger since that’s my main means of communication with just about everyone).  I moved the app to an unused page of my phone screen.

Poof.  Less facebook = so much more time for everything else right?  WRONG.  Haven’t been to facebook in 2 days so far.  But I find other ways to waste my time- staring at the kitchen clock works well.  As does laying my head on my laptop.  Oh Oh and sitting staring into space.  There’s not shortage of time wasters in my vicinity.

I have had super duper anxiety lately, and yet very little affect.  I just have no motivation to even move my face… but my legs are jiggling like crazy under the table….

I need to get motivated and get through this semester then – graduation at which time I can commence sleeping in my chair all day again.

Do you have that small voice?

Do you have that small voice in your head? You know the one that seems to wake up at bedtime and say “hey, you haven’t thought about <insert some worrisome thing here> in a while, let’s revisit that right now”.

Why???? Why must my brain constantly sabotage me? As if I don’t have enough on my plate- IEP for little one in 11hrs 29 mins… but who is counting…. oh yeah – me. Going in with my gloves on, but in truth- if they don’t give her what she needs I am probably done. I’ll take her out of school and homeschool her again. I know there are people who won’t support that decision but they don’t have to watch their child come home from school and lose it for most of the night because they held it together as best they could all day. I don’t know, little one could go one way or another if I pull her out she may be for it or against l. But I think it’s something her dad and I are going to have to think about and decide by Christmas.

29 days.

Posts I never post….

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.

Disruption…

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.

My Apologies….

Despite my best efforts to keep up with the blogs I follow, I haven’t been very good at it.  There are days I am barely good at getting out of bed.  Please forgive me, and know I am reading as often as I can, and you are all in my thoughts and prayers.

 

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.

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….