Today at therapy we delved into my issues with Femininity. Those who know me well know that I LOATHE wearing bras and pretty much never wear one anymore. One day a couple weeks ago I had to wear one due to a particular shirt I wanted to wear out in public without the titty censors coming after me. I was struggling to put in on when I had a vivid flashback of being very little and running around outside with no shirt on, same as my younger brother. I don't recall the age, but I must have been four or five. Anyhow, one day it was all normal then the next it was like- "YOU HAVE TO WEAR AT LEAST AN UNDERSHIRT BECAUSE YOU ARE A GIRL AND GIRLS CAN'T RUN AROUND WITH NO SHIRT ON." I was LIVID!!!! I think I probably threw a temper tantrum about it. IT WASN'T FAIR!!!!!! I wanted to be a BOY because they didn't have to wear a shirt when it was unbearably hot out!
Hence, probably my first introduction to "Men have all the power in this world."
I also remembered being about 10 and getting my first training bra. I was not impressed, but at the same time I was led to believe it was something to be proud of. Well, ok then, I saw my Grandpa outside and I ran out and whipped up my shirt and said "Look Grandpa!" I am sure he was embarrassed, but he didn't say anything that I remember, probably, "oh, that's nice" HAHA! However, my Grandma and Mother went off on me freaking out about how young ladies don't show men what's under their clothes or some shit. I don't know if I said it, but I know I had to have been thinking, "But, that's not a man, it's GRANDPA!"
More UNFAIRNESS.
I know I wasn't the biggest tomboy around, but I did my best. I liked boy's clothes better, their shoes/sneakers better, I wanted hockey skates and not figure skates, I wanted some of the toys my brother had, like a racecar track. I loved my dolls, and I loved playing house and being the mother, not the father, but there were a lot of things I wanted/liked that were "boys'."
Synopsis from my therapist:
I took the wanting to be a boy=having power, and instead of feeling that I could be powerful just by being a woman, turned it on myself so that I was FLAWED. There was something wrong with ME, not society. I lost any power I had from being feminine because I was fighting the system. The things I wanted so badly got all twisted somehow and I let them get me down even though I thought I was winning the fight. I didn't fit the "societal ideal" of a woman with how my body was constructed, so instead of working with what I have, I fought against it. I refused to dress up, I didn't like makeup, I didn't like anything "girly."
She asked me what did I think about powerful women that I knew, and I said, "well, they're mostly bitches." Fighting against myself again, ya think?
She wants me to write what I think about femininity, and specifically my own. Ummm... _______ draws a blank! All I know is that it's amazes me that I hold to spiritual beliefs and tenants that embrace DUALITY, yet I am actually quite hypocritical when it comes down to it personally.
I am not sure what I am trying to say here yet. I have a lot of thinking to do. I have a lot of cultural mores that messed me up that I need to get rid of. You know what else is really messed up? Women my age grew up being taught about "Women's Lib" and "Equality." There were all the fights to let girls play contact sports, to take industrial arts instead of home ec. While we were having all this stuff about Women are Equal shoved down our throats, the opposite kept being brought home to us. We STILL earn less than men. We never got a pro football or hockey team. (That I know of.) We still keep getting called sluts and whores for how we dress while we had makeup and popular fashion thrown at us. We were shown within our own families how women still kept getting the shaft. Some of our mothers may have entered the workforce, but dammit, that supper better be on that table when the MAN comes home. We saw our Moms continually working after their workday was done, while our Dads got to watch TV and we weren't supposed to "bother" them. When we grew up, many of us had better choices than our mothers, but certain things didn't change. My ex-husband was very helpful around the house, but I know lots of people who didn't have that help, and still don't, even now in the 2000's!!!!!!!! Remember that stupid Enjoli commercial?? We brought home the bacon all right, and still had to fry it up in the pan. Did we never ever let "him" forget he was a man? I don't freaking think so! Did anyone make us remember we were women? You bet they did, and not in good ways! It's that damned DOUBLE STANDARD no matter where you go.
Wow, ok, enough soapboxing here.
How many of us are there, with these same issues, that never got resolved? I think most people just move on, but we all know I am different HAHA!
That's it for now, except I don't really feel any better after getting this all out. :(
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Remembering Mrs. Mitchell.
When I was growing up there was a friend of my Grandmother's who was like another Grandmother to us. Her name was Mrs. Mitchell. Her first name was Beatrice, but everyone called her "Beat" or maybe it was "Beet." LOL I always called her Mrs. Mitchell, even when I was grown up.
She was married, to Mr. Mitchell. (haha) His nickname was "Chick". I think his first name was Monroe, but I am not 100% sure on that. I used to laugh whenever people referred to them as "Beat and Chick" because obviously that sounded pretty funny!
They lived up the street from us in a little white house that Mr. Mitchell built for them. They were childless, due to some affliction Mrs. Mitchell had from birth I believe, but they absolutely LOVED children. They always had like at least 20 cats and kittens around, and I do not exaggerate. They had a little garden shed in the back yard and some of the cats just lived in there, some in their garage, and some in their house. Needless to say the house always smelled, which was unfortunate, because she was a very neat housekeeper.
I remember when we would go over, my brother would tail Mr. Mitchell around and he would talk to him about lawn mowing and gardening and cars and all that guy stuff. We all always wanted to see the cats and especially the kittens. I remember one time Mrs. Mitchell made me up a little sewing kit in an old tin and put little pieces of material in it too. She brought it over to me so that I could make my own doll clothes. I still have that tin, and probably some of the things in it, but definitely that tin. I treasured it then, and treasure it now.
Sometime along the way I stopped going over with my mom, some due to "growing up" and some due to not liking the smell in the house, but I still saw them a lot out at stores and such. Mr. Mitchell died either when I was in high school or right after, I am not sure on the date. After I was married and had my kids, my mother told me how lonely Mrs. Mitchell was and would I come with her to visit again. The cat smell was so bad by now that it would literally burn your eyes when you went in the house, but I just dealt with it somehow. When I watch those animal hoarding shows on TV, I think of poor Mrs. Mitchell and all her cats and how she never seemed to notice the smell.
She loved my daughter Jessi so much. Jessi loved to visit her too, and we would have the best time. To this day, Jessi and I both feel bad that we didn't spend more time over there. I would make her little decorations for holidays, and Jess was always drawing her pictures and making her cards. Eventually, we moved and weren't near enough to visit regularly. Poor Mrs. Mitchell had to end up in a nursing home and we never saw her again. I think my Mom went to visit her in the nursing home, and I think she may have had dementia if not Alzheimers. From my work in nursing homes I just couldn't bear to go see her in there, but I guess she wouldn't have known me anyhow.
There are things I will never forget about her, that I strive to keep on in her memory. She loved cooking and collecting recipes. She had an old typewriter that she would type them out on. One time she had me look through her collection, and I wrote down some that I have in my recipe box. I do actually make some of them! She loved plants and gardening. I so wish she was still around so I could learn more about houseplants from her. She had the most beautiful plants, despite being steeped in the cat smell! LOL She grew me slips from two of her plants, which have long since died with my black thumb. She also crocheted. She made hats and mittens all the time and gave them to the church because it made her sad to think of children being cold if they didn't have winter things to wear. I have the patterns she used to make them. My children wore her hats and mittens for years themselves. She had a ripple blanket made out of scrap yarn that was so beautiful, and she told me how to make that too. I have some old patterns and a few craft books she gave me, and still some pieces of material she gave me too. She loved dolls. I made her a little doll with a sunbonnet, and she put it on her shelf with her favorite dolls and told me she talked to her every day and it made her a little less lonely. She would buy things at yard sales and give them to others. She gave Jessi at least a couple dolls and some stuffed animals she had gotten at a yard sale. I remember her telling us about when she was a little girl. I believe she was one of six children, and I think they had all died before her. She missed them terribly.
One other huge memory I have is when my brother and sister and I were little, she would babysit us on weekend nights when my grandmother couldn't for whatever reason. I remember us sitting in Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell's living room with them watching Glen Campbell on TV. She loved him! Now I saw that he has Alzheimer's. It's all so sad.
She had one of the most caring, generous hearts and I hope in some ways I can carry that on for her. I think Jessi feels the same way.
I am so glad she was in my life, and she made my life better by being in it. I really miss her a lot. I love you Mrs. Mitchell, I hope you knew that. (Somehow, I think she probably did know.)
She was married, to Mr. Mitchell. (haha) His nickname was "Chick". I think his first name was Monroe, but I am not 100% sure on that. I used to laugh whenever people referred to them as "Beat and Chick" because obviously that sounded pretty funny!
They lived up the street from us in a little white house that Mr. Mitchell built for them. They were childless, due to some affliction Mrs. Mitchell had from birth I believe, but they absolutely LOVED children. They always had like at least 20 cats and kittens around, and I do not exaggerate. They had a little garden shed in the back yard and some of the cats just lived in there, some in their garage, and some in their house. Needless to say the house always smelled, which was unfortunate, because she was a very neat housekeeper.
I remember when we would go over, my brother would tail Mr. Mitchell around and he would talk to him about lawn mowing and gardening and cars and all that guy stuff. We all always wanted to see the cats and especially the kittens. I remember one time Mrs. Mitchell made me up a little sewing kit in an old tin and put little pieces of material in it too. She brought it over to me so that I could make my own doll clothes. I still have that tin, and probably some of the things in it, but definitely that tin. I treasured it then, and treasure it now.
Sometime along the way I stopped going over with my mom, some due to "growing up" and some due to not liking the smell in the house, but I still saw them a lot out at stores and such. Mr. Mitchell died either when I was in high school or right after, I am not sure on the date. After I was married and had my kids, my mother told me how lonely Mrs. Mitchell was and would I come with her to visit again. The cat smell was so bad by now that it would literally burn your eyes when you went in the house, but I just dealt with it somehow. When I watch those animal hoarding shows on TV, I think of poor Mrs. Mitchell and all her cats and how she never seemed to notice the smell.
She loved my daughter Jessi so much. Jessi loved to visit her too, and we would have the best time. To this day, Jessi and I both feel bad that we didn't spend more time over there. I would make her little decorations for holidays, and Jess was always drawing her pictures and making her cards. Eventually, we moved and weren't near enough to visit regularly. Poor Mrs. Mitchell had to end up in a nursing home and we never saw her again. I think my Mom went to visit her in the nursing home, and I think she may have had dementia if not Alzheimers. From my work in nursing homes I just couldn't bear to go see her in there, but I guess she wouldn't have known me anyhow.
There are things I will never forget about her, that I strive to keep on in her memory. She loved cooking and collecting recipes. She had an old typewriter that she would type them out on. One time she had me look through her collection, and I wrote down some that I have in my recipe box. I do actually make some of them! She loved plants and gardening. I so wish she was still around so I could learn more about houseplants from her. She had the most beautiful plants, despite being steeped in the cat smell! LOL She grew me slips from two of her plants, which have long since died with my black thumb. She also crocheted. She made hats and mittens all the time and gave them to the church because it made her sad to think of children being cold if they didn't have winter things to wear. I have the patterns she used to make them. My children wore her hats and mittens for years themselves. She had a ripple blanket made out of scrap yarn that was so beautiful, and she told me how to make that too. I have some old patterns and a few craft books she gave me, and still some pieces of material she gave me too. She loved dolls. I made her a little doll with a sunbonnet, and she put it on her shelf with her favorite dolls and told me she talked to her every day and it made her a little less lonely. She would buy things at yard sales and give them to others. She gave Jessi at least a couple dolls and some stuffed animals she had gotten at a yard sale. I remember her telling us about when she was a little girl. I believe she was one of six children, and I think they had all died before her. She missed them terribly.
One other huge memory I have is when my brother and sister and I were little, she would babysit us on weekend nights when my grandmother couldn't for whatever reason. I remember us sitting in Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell's living room with them watching Glen Campbell on TV. She loved him! Now I saw that he has Alzheimer's. It's all so sad.
She had one of the most caring, generous hearts and I hope in some ways I can carry that on for her. I think Jessi feels the same way.
I am so glad she was in my life, and she made my life better by being in it. I really miss her a lot. I love you Mrs. Mitchell, I hope you knew that. (Somehow, I think she probably did know.)
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
To The Blog-Cave!
Well, well, it has been a long time old Blog.
I think I lost the urge to write for a while because things seemed so repetitive.
They still are, what a shock, huh? :P
I am feeling really weird tonight. On any given night I am probably feeling weird anyhow, but tonight is a little more so than others.
When my therapist was talking to me today, she asked me when it was in my life that I probably started considering myself "stupid." I thought about it some and pinned it down to most likely 6th grade. I was shocked at the detail of things I started remembering that were scary and fucked up at that time. She told me that that is probably where a big part of my emotional growth, well, ended? Maybe not ended, but certainly froze. So even though I am 44 years old, I have the HUGE and TERRIBLE emotions of a 12 or 13 year old. AHHHH!!!! No wonder I am such a wreck sometimes! I mean, how many people can remember vividly the pain and change and seemingly insurmountable hurdles of adolescence? I can't believe that somehow I got frozen in time there emotionally. I didn't even see it happening all these years. I think that there were times it got shoved under the rug and I gave off the impression of being "normal" because obviously how did I make it all these years? Then I realized in all these memories, that my grandfather died the month before 6th grade started. Hello, is that a clue there or what? I know I never really dealt with that grief properly and then with all the changes 6th grade brought it makes a lot of sense now. Then too, my grandmother died at the end of my freshman year and my other grandmother died two months later, again before school started, again in the midst of big change. I know also I didn't deal with that terrible grief properly either.
I am not sure how to even begin to fix all this, but I have to try to do what my therapist told me today. I have to just admit that I am going through a very hard time in my life now, and be compassionate with myself. After beating myself up all these years I am not quite sure how to even be compassionate with myself though! You'd think that would be the easy part, right?
It's also weird because I knew all along that I wasn't REALLY stupid, it just FELT that way. I took it that my emotions were fact, and not what they really are, just indicators. Um, I am still doing that and it's hard to stop. All part of this lovely reprogramming. It's really hard work too. I am also supposed to be congratulating myself on my hard work, and when I do things the "healthy" way, and that's another damn hard thing.
I think I need a vacation from my brain! :)
I think I lost the urge to write for a while because things seemed so repetitive.
They still are, what a shock, huh? :P
I am feeling really weird tonight. On any given night I am probably feeling weird anyhow, but tonight is a little more so than others.
When my therapist was talking to me today, she asked me when it was in my life that I probably started considering myself "stupid." I thought about it some and pinned it down to most likely 6th grade. I was shocked at the detail of things I started remembering that were scary and fucked up at that time. She told me that that is probably where a big part of my emotional growth, well, ended? Maybe not ended, but certainly froze. So even though I am 44 years old, I have the HUGE and TERRIBLE emotions of a 12 or 13 year old. AHHHH!!!! No wonder I am such a wreck sometimes! I mean, how many people can remember vividly the pain and change and seemingly insurmountable hurdles of adolescence? I can't believe that somehow I got frozen in time there emotionally. I didn't even see it happening all these years. I think that there were times it got shoved under the rug and I gave off the impression of being "normal" because obviously how did I make it all these years? Then I realized in all these memories, that my grandfather died the month before 6th grade started. Hello, is that a clue there or what? I know I never really dealt with that grief properly and then with all the changes 6th grade brought it makes a lot of sense now. Then too, my grandmother died at the end of my freshman year and my other grandmother died two months later, again before school started, again in the midst of big change. I know also I didn't deal with that terrible grief properly either.
I am not sure how to even begin to fix all this, but I have to try to do what my therapist told me today. I have to just admit that I am going through a very hard time in my life now, and be compassionate with myself. After beating myself up all these years I am not quite sure how to even be compassionate with myself though! You'd think that would be the easy part, right?
It's also weird because I knew all along that I wasn't REALLY stupid, it just FELT that way. I took it that my emotions were fact, and not what they really are, just indicators. Um, I am still doing that and it's hard to stop. All part of this lovely reprogramming. It's really hard work too. I am also supposed to be congratulating myself on my hard work, and when I do things the "healthy" way, and that's another damn hard thing.
I think I need a vacation from my brain! :)
Monday, May 2, 2011
Down and Downering
I just made up that word- "downering." It means going down farther, drowning, slipping down the Path of Sadness. The weird thing is that I am not even sure why I have seemed to have been sucked into it's vortex, yet I'm there.
Part of it inadverdently has to do with Osama Bin Laden. Well, more like 9/11 I guess. With all the stuff on the news this morning they were of course talking about 9/11 and I got to remembering that day and what went on. At the time, I was still married and living in Columbus, Ohio. We had very decent jobs for the first time in our lives, and our kids were in high school with not too many major issues yet. I just got so sad thinking back to when it seemed everything in life was perfect and then 9/11 happened. I also cannot forget the irony of how our divorce was final on 9/11 of 2007. May 11th would have been our 26th wedding anniversary. I am not discounting the very real and horrible tragedies of other people, but we've all got our own, on a national level or not. I think the really big thing that struck me on learning the news of Bin Laden's passing was that it took 10 freaking years and the loss of countless lives to get him???? Then I think, oh wow, I wish I could go back 10 years and start back over from there. What's done is done though, and you can't go back. THERE! I think I just hit on some of what's bothering me...!!!! In all my therapies I have been through they always harp on the same thing, "The past is over, the past is done, you can't dwell on the past, you can't relive your past, AD NAUSEUM. Well, if this is so, WHY is the past always brought back up for us to relive, by the media, or by others you know in life? Also why do they always say "you have to learn from the past." Well duh, if you have to learn from it, you obviously have to go back and remember it! Not all things in the past are good to remember, let alone learn from! So, WHY? Shit, I just keep confusing myself here.
That last paragraph is now in the past. So, do I delete it because it's over, or leave it there to ponder upon?
I guess Leon is right when he says that I think too much for my own good.
Speaking of Leon, there's another source for my current downering. It seems I see less and less of him these days and of course the intimacy is about as dead as Bin Laden. I believe he tries, but he is just too broken himself. I wish he would go get some kind of therapy himself, but I am pretty sure he never will. It's even gotten worse the past year since we've had Roxy. He gives all his attention and affection to her, while I am out in the cold begging for some for me. My therapist tells me it's because he doesn't know how to really relate to a woman, but he can relate to the dog so he gives it all to her. Yet, stupid me, I can't break up with him. I'd have to break up with the dog too because I know it would kill her to be separated from Leon. She loves me, but loves him just that little bit more. I already lost my two babies Trinity and Thor in the divorce, I don't want the pain of being separated from another dog too. Yeah, I am fucked up, this we know to be true.
Further I fall down and downering.
My tired mind keeps wondering
Is there a point to all this misery?
Not yet, not that I can see.
All I can do is ride the tide
And hope I come out on the other side.
Part of it inadverdently has to do with Osama Bin Laden. Well, more like 9/11 I guess. With all the stuff on the news this morning they were of course talking about 9/11 and I got to remembering that day and what went on. At the time, I was still married and living in Columbus, Ohio. We had very decent jobs for the first time in our lives, and our kids were in high school with not too many major issues yet. I just got so sad thinking back to when it seemed everything in life was perfect and then 9/11 happened. I also cannot forget the irony of how our divorce was final on 9/11 of 2007. May 11th would have been our 26th wedding anniversary. I am not discounting the very real and horrible tragedies of other people, but we've all got our own, on a national level or not. I think the really big thing that struck me on learning the news of Bin Laden's passing was that it took 10 freaking years and the loss of countless lives to get him???? Then I think, oh wow, I wish I could go back 10 years and start back over from there. What's done is done though, and you can't go back. THERE! I think I just hit on some of what's bothering me...!!!! In all my therapies I have been through they always harp on the same thing, "The past is over, the past is done, you can't dwell on the past, you can't relive your past, AD NAUSEUM. Well, if this is so, WHY is the past always brought back up for us to relive, by the media, or by others you know in life? Also why do they always say "you have to learn from the past." Well duh, if you have to learn from it, you obviously have to go back and remember it! Not all things in the past are good to remember, let alone learn from! So, WHY? Shit, I just keep confusing myself here.
That last paragraph is now in the past. So, do I delete it because it's over, or leave it there to ponder upon?
I guess Leon is right when he says that I think too much for my own good.
Speaking of Leon, there's another source for my current downering. It seems I see less and less of him these days and of course the intimacy is about as dead as Bin Laden. I believe he tries, but he is just too broken himself. I wish he would go get some kind of therapy himself, but I am pretty sure he never will. It's even gotten worse the past year since we've had Roxy. He gives all his attention and affection to her, while I am out in the cold begging for some for me. My therapist tells me it's because he doesn't know how to really relate to a woman, but he can relate to the dog so he gives it all to her. Yet, stupid me, I can't break up with him. I'd have to break up with the dog too because I know it would kill her to be separated from Leon. She loves me, but loves him just that little bit more. I already lost my two babies Trinity and Thor in the divorce, I don't want the pain of being separated from another dog too. Yeah, I am fucked up, this we know to be true.
Further I fall down and downering.
My tired mind keeps wondering
Is there a point to all this misery?
Not yet, not that I can see.
All I can do is ride the tide
And hope I come out on the other side.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Dissociation
Wow, yeah, so I had a dissociative episode this afternoon. So much has happened the last couple of days that I guess I was not handling it like I thought I was. Yesterday was the scare over my Dad having to go to the ER with symptoms of congestive heart failure. Then I am dealing with a bunch of BS courtesy of my ex who, speaking of courtesy, doesn't have the courtesy to talk to me about things he was legally supposed to take care of and didn't and now I am dealing with fallout almost three years after the divorce. That's all I can or care to say about that. Today I get all the bad news from the dentist. I'll have to go through some intensive cleaning thing for periodontal disease in July that's going to cost around $600!!!! The real sucky thing about it is that I am like very OCD about brushing and flossing, well, brushing at least and I still ended up with the shit. I am also going to have to get a mouthgard to wear at night. So, with my C-pap and that I'll be sexier than Hell in bed, won't I? Not that Leon notices anyhow so I guess it doesn't matter. It's also weird because apparently I might have TMJ without having the usual symptoms, which is usually how it is in MEN, not WOMEN. I won't complain though, because I know TMJ is severely painful and I am spared that part of it. I just got the teeth being worn down thing. BLLLLLAAAAARGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, I am driving down to B-town to therapy and feeling all weird and unreal and then I go past the street where I got gang raped years ago and start to flashback and then WIINNGGGG.......it's like I am not me. I am driving the car and in control of that but it's like I am an alien and nothing is familiar even though it is familiar. I see people everywhere and it's like I am wondering what they are doing, are any of them freaking out and if not why do I have to be???? I get to the therapist's and am sitting in the car smoking one last cigarette before I go in and I am just like almost shaking and sick feeling like how you feel after a wicked adrenaline rush. Damn good thing I was headed to therapy huh? The worst, most incredibly fucked up part is the crux of the matter was that even though I don't know who I am, I totally DID NOT want to be ME. I don't even know who ME is and yet I don't want to be it???? I was facing the lake and I just wanted to like somehow float out over it and lose myself in the depths. Not drown mind you, but like find some kind of peace under the water, like if I could breathe underwater and just hang out down there where it was quiet and not of this world. Water is very grounding to me, so I can see why I was thinking that. I guess I should have taken a bath tonight, but I didn't.
I realize this is some heavy stuff to be putting out here for public access, but I have to get this out of me. Yes, I also know that I could not publish this publicly, but it's also my intent that some of my rambling here will speak to someone else and hope that they won't feel alone in their problems.
It's after midnight and I can't sleep, I finished reading "Lost" by Gregory Maguire tonight (how appropriate) and that didn't chill me out enough for bed. I guess writing this and listening to music are going to be the only way I can decompress. Honestly, as totally crazy as I sound in this post, I really don't feel like I am THAT crazy! It's just how my mind deals with too many bad things that come at once. I mean, by the time I walked into the waiting room, I was ok, and only a little off feeling and of course the therapist helped. I know things will look different in the morning. Not necessarily better for some of them, but maybe tomorrow I can get a handle on things Now I think I am finally tired though, so I am off to bed.
So, I am driving down to B-town to therapy and feeling all weird and unreal and then I go past the street where I got gang raped years ago and start to flashback and then WIINNGGGG.......it's like I am not me. I am driving the car and in control of that but it's like I am an alien and nothing is familiar even though it is familiar. I see people everywhere and it's like I am wondering what they are doing, are any of them freaking out and if not why do I have to be???? I get to the therapist's and am sitting in the car smoking one last cigarette before I go in and I am just like almost shaking and sick feeling like how you feel after a wicked adrenaline rush. Damn good thing I was headed to therapy huh? The worst, most incredibly fucked up part is the crux of the matter was that even though I don't know who I am, I totally DID NOT want to be ME. I don't even know who ME is and yet I don't want to be it???? I was facing the lake and I just wanted to like somehow float out over it and lose myself in the depths. Not drown mind you, but like find some kind of peace under the water, like if I could breathe underwater and just hang out down there where it was quiet and not of this world. Water is very grounding to me, so I can see why I was thinking that. I guess I should have taken a bath tonight, but I didn't.
I realize this is some heavy stuff to be putting out here for public access, but I have to get this out of me. Yes, I also know that I could not publish this publicly, but it's also my intent that some of my rambling here will speak to someone else and hope that they won't feel alone in their problems.
It's after midnight and I can't sleep, I finished reading "Lost" by Gregory Maguire tonight (how appropriate) and that didn't chill me out enough for bed. I guess writing this and listening to music are going to be the only way I can decompress. Honestly, as totally crazy as I sound in this post, I really don't feel like I am THAT crazy! It's just how my mind deals with too many bad things that come at once. I mean, by the time I walked into the waiting room, I was ok, and only a little off feeling and of course the therapist helped. I know things will look different in the morning. Not necessarily better for some of them, but maybe tomorrow I can get a handle on things Now I think I am finally tired though, so I am off to bed.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Who Am I? No, Really!
It's been a while since I blogged. I don't know, I get all gung-ho about something and then it just kinda fizzles out. Sometimes it's circumstances though, such as I would love to write in my blog but Leon is playing games on Pogo so I can't. Usually by the time I get to use the computer after he's done, I've lost my blogging urge. Some days it just seems like I am repeating myself so I figure why bother?
I didn't have my weekly therapist appointment this week. She was gone off somewhere again. It's a good thing nothing horrible was going on! She gave me "homework" to do in lieu of our session. Well, I did it, but it was really freaking hard and it was kinda scary actually. I had to write down things about myself, that are good, and that are not reflections from other people. I also had to make sure there were no "buts" in there. My usual thing is to say something like- "I'm good at crocheting but I can't design my own things" or "I'm a good cook but I am not professional chef quality." Ergo, this was a lot harder than it sounded! I think what really disturbs me is that a lot of what I put down really was a reflection of what someone else has told me, not necessarily things that I could just say about myself with inner knowledge of it. I still feel like it was so fake writing it. I know one of my big issues is that I have no sense of self, and this really brought that home to me. Someday it might be "fixed" but I don't know. I know lots of people go through life searching for themselves, but I feel like it's too late for me now. I feel like any chance I had at it is gone, and I am just doomed to keep plugging along with my self image being determined by everything or everybody outside me. It's a really weird feeling, and it's so scary. What if I do never find myself? Maybe I don't really exist? I mean, of course I exist, or else I wouldn't be typing this right now. It's hard to explain what I mean. It's like if I was a Changeling, or a Doppelganger. Yeah, that's it. I'm not sure if the "real me" was stolen somehow, or if it/I never even existed to begin with. It really creeps me out.
I don't think that all this medication I am on really helps sometimes. It has it's very good benefits, such as I can focus somewhat better, my emotional outbursts are few and far between now, and I am generally calmer. All good things, except that those "bad behaviors" were a part of me, part of what made me feel real. If I was lashing out at society or those close to me, or especially myself, I felt real. When I was engaging in self-harm, I felt real. When my mind was going 110 miles an hour, I felt real. Now, I just feel...numbed. I feel faker than I already did. My motivation is shot to Hell most days. It takes me half the day to feel like really going anywhere or doing anything, and then once I do, I get tired so easily it's not even funny. I don't even stay up late like I used to, I try but I can't make it. I always loved being up late at night, it was like it was "my time." I can't even say I am "Comfortably Numb" like you wish you were listening to Pink Floyd's song, hehe! It just really SUCKS. I know that not all of it is the medication, the "non-responsive sleep apnea" has a major starring role, and I know depression is at least playing second banana if not stealing the show. So what am I gonna do? Just keep putting one foot in front of the other until I trip and fall again I guess.
I didn't have my weekly therapist appointment this week. She was gone off somewhere again. It's a good thing nothing horrible was going on! She gave me "homework" to do in lieu of our session. Well, I did it, but it was really freaking hard and it was kinda scary actually. I had to write down things about myself, that are good, and that are not reflections from other people. I also had to make sure there were no "buts" in there. My usual thing is to say something like- "I'm good at crocheting but I can't design my own things" or "I'm a good cook but I am not professional chef quality." Ergo, this was a lot harder than it sounded! I think what really disturbs me is that a lot of what I put down really was a reflection of what someone else has told me, not necessarily things that I could just say about myself with inner knowledge of it. I still feel like it was so fake writing it. I know one of my big issues is that I have no sense of self, and this really brought that home to me. Someday it might be "fixed" but I don't know. I know lots of people go through life searching for themselves, but I feel like it's too late for me now. I feel like any chance I had at it is gone, and I am just doomed to keep plugging along with my self image being determined by everything or everybody outside me. It's a really weird feeling, and it's so scary. What if I do never find myself? Maybe I don't really exist? I mean, of course I exist, or else I wouldn't be typing this right now. It's hard to explain what I mean. It's like if I was a Changeling, or a Doppelganger. Yeah, that's it. I'm not sure if the "real me" was stolen somehow, or if it/I never even existed to begin with. It really creeps me out.
I don't think that all this medication I am on really helps sometimes. It has it's very good benefits, such as I can focus somewhat better, my emotional outbursts are few and far between now, and I am generally calmer. All good things, except that those "bad behaviors" were a part of me, part of what made me feel real. If I was lashing out at society or those close to me, or especially myself, I felt real. When I was engaging in self-harm, I felt real. When my mind was going 110 miles an hour, I felt real. Now, I just feel...numbed. I feel faker than I already did. My motivation is shot to Hell most days. It takes me half the day to feel like really going anywhere or doing anything, and then once I do, I get tired so easily it's not even funny. I don't even stay up late like I used to, I try but I can't make it. I always loved being up late at night, it was like it was "my time." I can't even say I am "Comfortably Numb" like you wish you were listening to Pink Floyd's song, hehe! It just really SUCKS. I know that not all of it is the medication, the "non-responsive sleep apnea" has a major starring role, and I know depression is at least playing second banana if not stealing the show. So what am I gonna do? Just keep putting one foot in front of the other until I trip and fall again I guess.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Grocery Shopping Sadness
I guess since last week it's now my job to take my parents grocery shopping. Just got home a little bit ago and am trying to decompress. I want to cry in the worst way, but I will just tough it out. It's fucking killing me to see my parents aging. It's so hard for them to get in and out of the car for one. I take them in our Durango so it helps a little because it's not low to the ground. It works better with my Dad anyhow because he is taller. LOL
They walk so slow, and my Mom brings a cane but my Dad ended up using it today. It's SO HARD to slow down to their pace when I just want to grab the shit and run! It's a good lesson in patience anyhow, and therefore some mindfulness. Actually I should use more mindfulness because while they are poking along my brain is already trying to be through the cash register and I get more stressed.
There are really funny times though, like my Mom put something in the cart and my Dad told her it was illegal because it wasn't on the list! Then he comes along with a can of clam chowder and puts it in the cart and I said, HEY! That's illegal clam chowder, it's not on the list! He replies with, "Well, we are both allowed like 2 items that aren't on the list." HAHAHAHA! They have all their coupons in old envelopes and I was complaining that they needed one of those coupon organizers. My Dad says, "That's why we bring you along, to organize them for us." HAH! He kills me!
I am glad that I can help them, don't get me wrong. It's just sad to see how things have become. I remember having to go shopping every Saturday with my brother and sister and Mom at A&P and we used to try to sneak things in the cart. We got away with some things, but not all of them! I think I have always hated grocery shopping, so that doesn't help either. The worst thing really though is having to bring all the stuff in the house and put it away.
For now, I will just keep being thankful that I can help them.
They walk so slow, and my Mom brings a cane but my Dad ended up using it today. It's SO HARD to slow down to their pace when I just want to grab the shit and run! It's a good lesson in patience anyhow, and therefore some mindfulness. Actually I should use more mindfulness because while they are poking along my brain is already trying to be through the cash register and I get more stressed.
There are really funny times though, like my Mom put something in the cart and my Dad told her it was illegal because it wasn't on the list! Then he comes along with a can of clam chowder and puts it in the cart and I said, HEY! That's illegal clam chowder, it's not on the list! He replies with, "Well, we are both allowed like 2 items that aren't on the list." HAHAHAHA! They have all their coupons in old envelopes and I was complaining that they needed one of those coupon organizers. My Dad says, "That's why we bring you along, to organize them for us." HAH! He kills me!
I am glad that I can help them, don't get me wrong. It's just sad to see how things have become. I remember having to go shopping every Saturday with my brother and sister and Mom at A&P and we used to try to sneak things in the cart. We got away with some things, but not all of them! I think I have always hated grocery shopping, so that doesn't help either. The worst thing really though is having to bring all the stuff in the house and put it away.
For now, I will just keep being thankful that I can help them.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
So...yeah. Weird afternoon.
The struggle to make through an afternoon is underway. Usually on Tuesdays I have my therapist appointment right now, but she's out of town or something this week. I've been off today and have been pretty productive, got laundry done, dishes done, dinner all planned out, a few rows of crocheting on my newest baby blanket project. I needed some motivation so I started cranking tunes on the computer here from my vast playlist. The only problem with that is that some of my music can make me so unbearably sad it alters my already unstable mood. Bleh. Blah. WAHHH! ;)
I was thinking about how stupid and one-sided history is. I am not taking away from the horrible obvious suffering that went on in different wars, but there are many victims in war. Even the "enemies" suffer. I know people aren't going to like this but that's too bad. I think there was more suffering that went on for the Germans, Russians, and Japanese than anyone will ever know because our history books only highlight things like the Holocaust. I am not taking away from that, don't get me wrong here, I am just saying that that is not the only thing that happened in World War II, and the Jews are not the only people that suffered. EVERYONE did. Even now, there is so much crap going on over in the Middle East we'll never know about. It makes you wonder why there is so much more PSTD now? I guess a lot of it has to do with the fact that the military didn't want to recognize it back in the day. It's all so STUPID! Don't even get me started on how women have suffered for centuries without having been in a "war"....HA!!!!
I don't know, life is so messed up just on a day to day basis I don't know why I am off on a tangent about war crap. I guess because some of the music I listen to is considered "Nazi" music. Well, whatever, I like the music and I don't see how singing about being proud of European heritage is lumped into the "Nazi" category and deemed racist! From what I know, Rap music is about being proud of being a ghetto thug, who's got the hottest booty and most bling, and there are some really blatant anti-white and anti-women lyrics, but no one dares to go after that because of the NAACP or something. (Now there's something else..."politically correct"???? There is absolutely NOTHING correct about politics these days is there?) Hey, that's what's it all about, people voicing their opinions whether it's politically correct or not. If one race or religion is allowed to voice their opinions without sanctions, why can't all races?
My heritage is mostly Irish and I happen to know that the Irish have been a persecuted race for centuries. It didn't end when my ancestors came over here to America because of the potato famine or whatever they came here for either. You just don't hear about Irish persecution and discrimination until you really do some researching. I think it's also because we Irish didn't have a group to stick up for us like other races have had. They dealt with it on their own, and you certainly don't hear anyone Irish whining about how their great-grandfather was an indentured servant or had to take the worst jobs available because the Irish "weren't welcome." I'd really hate to think that if I was actually able to write music and sing, and recorded songs about how the O'Neills were kings of Ulster or what the Irish went through at the turn of the century here in America that someone would come after me and call me a "Nazi"!
Again, I am not knocking people of other races, I am just trying to point out the hypocrisy and ignorance of so many people. It's that old refrain- "Why can't we just all get along?"
I might also point out I have probably gone off on this tangent because I don't want to deal with some of my own "stuff" and am distracting myself with something totally out there! :) I guess it worked for a little bit.
Now it's time to make dinner. I'm off to cook, with all kinds of crazy music playing in the background and me singing totally off key until Mr. Country Music Leon gets home and ruins my concert. That's how I roll.
I was thinking about how stupid and one-sided history is. I am not taking away from the horrible obvious suffering that went on in different wars, but there are many victims in war. Even the "enemies" suffer. I know people aren't going to like this but that's too bad. I think there was more suffering that went on for the Germans, Russians, and Japanese than anyone will ever know because our history books only highlight things like the Holocaust. I am not taking away from that, don't get me wrong here, I am just saying that that is not the only thing that happened in World War II, and the Jews are not the only people that suffered. EVERYONE did. Even now, there is so much crap going on over in the Middle East we'll never know about. It makes you wonder why there is so much more PSTD now? I guess a lot of it has to do with the fact that the military didn't want to recognize it back in the day. It's all so STUPID! Don't even get me started on how women have suffered for centuries without having been in a "war"....HA!!!!
I don't know, life is so messed up just on a day to day basis I don't know why I am off on a tangent about war crap. I guess because some of the music I listen to is considered "Nazi" music. Well, whatever, I like the music and I don't see how singing about being proud of European heritage is lumped into the "Nazi" category and deemed racist! From what I know, Rap music is about being proud of being a ghetto thug, who's got the hottest booty and most bling, and there are some really blatant anti-white and anti-women lyrics, but no one dares to go after that because of the NAACP or something. (Now there's something else..."politically correct"???? There is absolutely NOTHING correct about politics these days is there?) Hey, that's what's it all about, people voicing their opinions whether it's politically correct or not. If one race or religion is allowed to voice their opinions without sanctions, why can't all races?
My heritage is mostly Irish and I happen to know that the Irish have been a persecuted race for centuries. It didn't end when my ancestors came over here to America because of the potato famine or whatever they came here for either. You just don't hear about Irish persecution and discrimination until you really do some researching. I think it's also because we Irish didn't have a group to stick up for us like other races have had. They dealt with it on their own, and you certainly don't hear anyone Irish whining about how their great-grandfather was an indentured servant or had to take the worst jobs available because the Irish "weren't welcome." I'd really hate to think that if I was actually able to write music and sing, and recorded songs about how the O'Neills were kings of Ulster or what the Irish went through at the turn of the century here in America that someone would come after me and call me a "Nazi"!
Again, I am not knocking people of other races, I am just trying to point out the hypocrisy and ignorance of so many people. It's that old refrain- "Why can't we just all get along?"
I might also point out I have probably gone off on this tangent because I don't want to deal with some of my own "stuff" and am distracting myself with something totally out there! :) I guess it worked for a little bit.
Now it's time to make dinner. I'm off to cook, with all kinds of crazy music playing in the background and me singing totally off key until Mr. Country Music Leon gets home and ruins my concert. That's how I roll.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
What Does It Feel Like When Love Dies?
I am fairly, at least 90% certain that my love for Leon died tonight. I am not sure how to feel, or what to feel. I am feeling a cross between my heart breaking and falling on the floor and bleeding out, and just, numb. I didn't cry as much as I expected. I feel sad, but more angry. I feel oh so horribly disappointed. I think that my hope finally disappeared because it knew there was no reason to keep hoping.
It's bad enough that I have major abandonment issues, like, say he had left me. That would have been really bad and hard to deal with. I am not sure what's worse, to be abandoned like that, or to be abandoned like I have been, WITHIN this relationship. It's bad enough the little intimacy he gave me in the beginning was cut off entirely. OK, so I can deal with that, I thought. There is more to life than sex. (WHAT WAS I THINKING??) Ok, so then the affection was cut off. I didn't think I could deal with that, and I probably haven't with either, I think it's just a process of numbing myself. Then it was help around the house. Then it was time spent together, which when he lost his job, got even WORSE. Now it's come down to every weekend, pretty much both days, he has something going on with his friends and I am alone with the dog.
Funny thing about that dog Roxy, she will cuddle with me and follow me everywhere when we are home alone, but the minute he decides to show up again, she deserts me for him. Abandonment from the dog too????? I am really this pathetic? Am I really this loathsome to be around? Why does it seem the nicer I try to be, the harder I try not to take things too personally and try to understand him, the more I try to keep loving him, the more he pushes me away and puts up walls, yet keeps telling me he loves me? Actions speak SO much louder than words. His have become veritable screams.
I know I have "issues." I know I can be hard to live with when I am in depressive mode, when I am in emotion dysfunction land, when I am blowing up at him over little stuff because I cannot deal with the larger stuff......but really, I cook for him, I clean for him, I pick up his messes, I do his laundry, I try to make him feel special even when he is not making me feel that way...I guess no matter how "good" I am or how "bad" I am it doesn't matter.
What to do and how to do it? I guess this is really the last straw and we need to go our separate ways. I told him tonight I am done, I cannot take this anymore. He said "Whatever." That was helpful. NOT! I am quite sure in the morning he will act like nothing happened and that everything is all back to "normal". I don't think I can do that.
I'm scared. He's hurt me for the last time. I'm afraid to be alone, but I might as well be alone the way things are. I am terrified that this is it, that no man will ever want to be with me because I am so screwed up and apparently not worth spending time with. It's bad enough my marriage ended in part because my ex "couldn't deal anymore with me being depressed all the time." Mental Illness is such a stigma, yanno, like can you see me putting up a personal ad: "I'm mentally ill, but I am med compliant and in treatment. I have physical problems too, but don't let that scare you away. My ex-husband and my ex-boyfriend didn't want to be with me, but I really am a nice person though, so take a chance." YEAH RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'd be the belle of the personal ads with that one for sure!
I'm just scared. I know I am supposed to see my own worth, but honestly, so many people have made me feel unworthy for the better part of my life, I am having a really hard time seeing much of worth about me. I can see little things, but don't think they are enough. I'm scared, I'm hurting, I want to run away and hide somewhere for a long time, yet at the same time I don't want to be alone.
Maybe things will look better tomorrow, but I have a feeling they won't. I have to stay in this moment anyhow, and not worry about tomorrow, but right now this moment SUCKS so why do I want to stay in it?
I hope the answer comes to me in a dream tonight, because I don't think it will any other way.
If anyone read this, thanks for listening.
It's bad enough that I have major abandonment issues, like, say he had left me. That would have been really bad and hard to deal with. I am not sure what's worse, to be abandoned like that, or to be abandoned like I have been, WITHIN this relationship. It's bad enough the little intimacy he gave me in the beginning was cut off entirely. OK, so I can deal with that, I thought. There is more to life than sex. (WHAT WAS I THINKING??) Ok, so then the affection was cut off. I didn't think I could deal with that, and I probably haven't with either, I think it's just a process of numbing myself. Then it was help around the house. Then it was time spent together, which when he lost his job, got even WORSE. Now it's come down to every weekend, pretty much both days, he has something going on with his friends and I am alone with the dog.
Funny thing about that dog Roxy, she will cuddle with me and follow me everywhere when we are home alone, but the minute he decides to show up again, she deserts me for him. Abandonment from the dog too????? I am really this pathetic? Am I really this loathsome to be around? Why does it seem the nicer I try to be, the harder I try not to take things too personally and try to understand him, the more I try to keep loving him, the more he pushes me away and puts up walls, yet keeps telling me he loves me? Actions speak SO much louder than words. His have become veritable screams.
I know I have "issues." I know I can be hard to live with when I am in depressive mode, when I am in emotion dysfunction land, when I am blowing up at him over little stuff because I cannot deal with the larger stuff......but really, I cook for him, I clean for him, I pick up his messes, I do his laundry, I try to make him feel special even when he is not making me feel that way...I guess no matter how "good" I am or how "bad" I am it doesn't matter.
What to do and how to do it? I guess this is really the last straw and we need to go our separate ways. I told him tonight I am done, I cannot take this anymore. He said "Whatever." That was helpful. NOT! I am quite sure in the morning he will act like nothing happened and that everything is all back to "normal". I don't think I can do that.
I'm scared. He's hurt me for the last time. I'm afraid to be alone, but I might as well be alone the way things are. I am terrified that this is it, that no man will ever want to be with me because I am so screwed up and apparently not worth spending time with. It's bad enough my marriage ended in part because my ex "couldn't deal anymore with me being depressed all the time." Mental Illness is such a stigma, yanno, like can you see me putting up a personal ad: "I'm mentally ill, but I am med compliant and in treatment. I have physical problems too, but don't let that scare you away. My ex-husband and my ex-boyfriend didn't want to be with me, but I really am a nice person though, so take a chance." YEAH RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'd be the belle of the personal ads with that one for sure!
I'm just scared. I know I am supposed to see my own worth, but honestly, so many people have made me feel unworthy for the better part of my life, I am having a really hard time seeing much of worth about me. I can see little things, but don't think they are enough. I'm scared, I'm hurting, I want to run away and hide somewhere for a long time, yet at the same time I don't want to be alone.
Maybe things will look better tomorrow, but I have a feeling they won't. I have to stay in this moment anyhow, and not worry about tomorrow, but right now this moment SUCKS so why do I want to stay in it?
I hope the answer comes to me in a dream tonight, because I don't think it will any other way.
If anyone read this, thanks for listening.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Pen and Paper
I've been doing a lot of writing the good old fashioned way, with pen and paper. There are a few drawbacks to that...it's not as fast as typing and I have been neglecting the old blog here! That's what happens when you have another person around who wants to play games on the computer so you can't get on to do your thing. Oh well, there is nothing wrong with a notebook and pen. It really got me thinking about how technology is not necessarily change for the better. I know many would argue the point, but I am not here to argue, just point out a few things.
I really am feeling the urge, or need to write more and obviously the computer is limiting. I can only do it in this one room. Sure, there are laptops, but they are expensive and I can't really justify the purchase of one, just because I want to write in other places than this room. I can take a notebook or journal with me anywhere, and I don't need electricity or batteries or wifi to run them! When spring finally comes, I want to be able to take my writing outside and write about nature and things. If I was writing that outside on a computer somehow I think it takes away from it. Of course, you know I want a damn laptop so maybe I am just trying to convince myself how great the old school way is! :)
My sister-in-law was telling me the other day that she read the infamous "they" want to do away with cursive writing. What the ........??????????????? Blasphemy, I say! Obviously people are going to still have to sign their names at some point in their lives! It's not just that, but it's an art, and most likely a lost art at that. Do you remember when we had to learn it in school? We thought we were all that because we could print, but when you could write in cursive, you'd hit the big leagues baby!!!! Remember the lined paper with the dotted line in the middle so you could make your letters correctly? I know I was so excited to learn cursive I could hardly wait until we did the next letter, and then when we finally got to Z I was a little disappointed that there were no more letters! I didn't like it that I couldn't make my letters as perfect as the guide we had over the chalkboard, but I guess I did pretty decent. I know when I was older, many of us ditched the "proper" way to write and invented our own ways of making letters in cursive. Some looked better than the originals, maybe some not, but it was definitely our own form of personal expression. I honestly do not think you can get that from playing with fonts on the computer. It's just not your original style, it's only a copy of someone else's. If anyone that actually reads my blog would like to, please comment on this! I would love to hear your thoughts on writing.
I suppose I should throw in some updates here on the DBT and CBT skills front. In some ways it's getting easier, and I think a lot of that is due to the Risperidone I am on. I hate that stuff in some ways because it's caused weight gain, and it has a horrible zombie-like effect in the mornings. I am so not a morning person to begin with, but this stuff just intensifies that to the n'th degree! However, it does help whatever my brain chemistry was missing. It slows my thought processes down enough to where I can control them better and pay attention to certain things instead of being all over the place and unable to focus or let things sink in. As a result, I am finding it easier to work with my skills and put them to use instead of just wanting to throw it all out the window. It also is allowing me for the most part to sleep through the night instead of the constant waking and going back to sleep. It's still hard to be proud of myself though, because even if I can use the skills better, it's like I am annoyed that I have to use them at all! Some people are just never satisfied, right? :)
I really am feeling the urge, or need to write more and obviously the computer is limiting. I can only do it in this one room. Sure, there are laptops, but they are expensive and I can't really justify the purchase of one, just because I want to write in other places than this room. I can take a notebook or journal with me anywhere, and I don't need electricity or batteries or wifi to run them! When spring finally comes, I want to be able to take my writing outside and write about nature and things. If I was writing that outside on a computer somehow I think it takes away from it. Of course, you know I want a damn laptop so maybe I am just trying to convince myself how great the old school way is! :)
My sister-in-law was telling me the other day that she read the infamous "they" want to do away with cursive writing. What the ........??????????????? Blasphemy, I say! Obviously people are going to still have to sign their names at some point in their lives! It's not just that, but it's an art, and most likely a lost art at that. Do you remember when we had to learn it in school? We thought we were all that because we could print, but when you could write in cursive, you'd hit the big leagues baby!!!! Remember the lined paper with the dotted line in the middle so you could make your letters correctly? I know I was so excited to learn cursive I could hardly wait until we did the next letter, and then when we finally got to Z I was a little disappointed that there were no more letters! I didn't like it that I couldn't make my letters as perfect as the guide we had over the chalkboard, but I guess I did pretty decent. I know when I was older, many of us ditched the "proper" way to write and invented our own ways of making letters in cursive. Some looked better than the originals, maybe some not, but it was definitely our own form of personal expression. I honestly do not think you can get that from playing with fonts on the computer. It's just not your original style, it's only a copy of someone else's. If anyone that actually reads my blog would like to, please comment on this! I would love to hear your thoughts on writing.
I suppose I should throw in some updates here on the DBT and CBT skills front. In some ways it's getting easier, and I think a lot of that is due to the Risperidone I am on. I hate that stuff in some ways because it's caused weight gain, and it has a horrible zombie-like effect in the mornings. I am so not a morning person to begin with, but this stuff just intensifies that to the n'th degree! However, it does help whatever my brain chemistry was missing. It slows my thought processes down enough to where I can control them better and pay attention to certain things instead of being all over the place and unable to focus or let things sink in. As a result, I am finding it easier to work with my skills and put them to use instead of just wanting to throw it all out the window. It also is allowing me for the most part to sleep through the night instead of the constant waking and going back to sleep. It's still hard to be proud of myself though, because even if I can use the skills better, it's like I am annoyed that I have to use them at all! Some people are just never satisfied, right? :)
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Tough Day, But I Shall Press On.
I was going to have to get up early this morning to get a mammogram, but Roxy decided that when Leon left at 3:00 am to do his plow route that WE had to get up. So, she's running all around and I say to Hell with it and make some coffee. What does Roxy do? Go right back to sleep! I was too paranoid to go back to sleep thinking I wouldn't wake up in time for my appointment at 8:15, so I sucked it up and stayed up. After the boob smushing was over, I had to run over to the Vets to pick up Roxy's next dose of heartworm pills, then off to Milton. I worked until 12:00 and was ready to crash by then, so I came home, stopping to pick up some meds for me, but not heartworm ones. Haha. I also found out that where I get my mammograms done, they are going out of business or something in a couple months so I will have to go get them done at the hospital now I guess. It sounds like such a little thing and shouldn't be a big deal, but change is hard for me at times, and that really bummed me out.
I called Leon when I got home thinking that maybe since he doesn't have an actual job or anything, (he hangs out at his friend's garage until 5:00 pm every day helping or bullshitting or whatever they do) that maybe he would come home early so we could do some grocery shopping. Of course not! He was "too busy" and said he didn't feel like going" and "who needs to eat anyway?" OK then- FUCK HIM. There will be no supper for him tonight! I don't know, I most likely am being childish about not making dinner tonight, but for Christ's sake, if he wants to be that way then he's got it coming to him! Or not coming to him, as the case may be!
I was seeing red so I just went and tried to take a nap. Roxy decided of course that she had to bark at everything just because I needed some sleep. I don't disturb her sleep, but of course she looks at things in her doggy way and decides my sleep is not her priority! I remembered today was my old dog Ginger's birthday. My brother didn't remember, which surprised me a little, because he loved her maybe even more than I did! I think it's really weird too that Roxy was born on March 20, and sometimes she acts just like old Gin-gin even though she's a totally different breed. Maybe she's channeling Ginger's spirit, since this was her house and she is buried out in the back yard. You never know!
I am just so tired, and that is not helping me deal. I feel like I should be putting out applications for a new boyfriend. HAH! One of my many problems is that I let myself get pushed and pushed, until one day it's just too far and then SNAP! I need to really be more proactive about this relationship issue, and handle it better than I am because right now I don't want to handle it at all. It seems though, that when I do let my feelings be known, I mess that up too, and it doesn't get me anywhere either. OK............BREAAAATHE. Funny how you can forget that most important bodily function!
I called Leon when I got home thinking that maybe since he doesn't have an actual job or anything, (he hangs out at his friend's garage until 5:00 pm every day helping or bullshitting or whatever they do) that maybe he would come home early so we could do some grocery shopping. Of course not! He was "too busy" and said he didn't feel like going" and "who needs to eat anyway?" OK then- FUCK HIM. There will be no supper for him tonight! I don't know, I most likely am being childish about not making dinner tonight, but for Christ's sake, if he wants to be that way then he's got it coming to him! Or not coming to him, as the case may be!
I was seeing red so I just went and tried to take a nap. Roxy decided of course that she had to bark at everything just because I needed some sleep. I don't disturb her sleep, but of course she looks at things in her doggy way and decides my sleep is not her priority! I remembered today was my old dog Ginger's birthday. My brother didn't remember, which surprised me a little, because he loved her maybe even more than I did! I think it's really weird too that Roxy was born on March 20, and sometimes she acts just like old Gin-gin even though she's a totally different breed. Maybe she's channeling Ginger's spirit, since this was her house and she is buried out in the back yard. You never know!
I am just so tired, and that is not helping me deal. I feel like I should be putting out applications for a new boyfriend. HAH! One of my many problems is that I let myself get pushed and pushed, until one day it's just too far and then SNAP! I need to really be more proactive about this relationship issue, and handle it better than I am because right now I don't want to handle it at all. It seems though, that when I do let my feelings be known, I mess that up too, and it doesn't get me anywhere either. OK............BREAAAATHE. Funny how you can forget that most important bodily function!
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Nectar Of The Gods of the Seventies
Yesterday my brother was washing out a meatloaf pan and remarked that there looked like there might be rust forming in it. All I could think of was my Dad, and something he said years ago. I asked my brother if he remembered...
In the first house we lived in, we had a really old working refrigerator in the basement. I am not quite sure why, I guess as a backup. It was probably from the 1950's. One thing that I always remember being in this refrigerator were at least a couple bottles of ice water. There was no ice in it, it was just cold water, but my Dad always called it ice water. They were these old glass quart jars that orange and grapefruit juice used to come in, with metal screw-on lids. He would fill them up from the set-tub that was down there for the washing machine to drain into. I remember my Dad out mowing the lawn, and coming in the basement through the garage to grab a swig of his ice water. My Dad never wore shorts, in fact he never wore jeans! He was a college professor and always wore suits. His summer work clothes for around the house were an old pair of suit pants that were paint spattered and old short-sleeve button down shirts, also paint splattered. He wore an undershirt with the other shirt all the time. He must have been so hot out mowing the lawn in that get-up!
The ice water bottles eventually would get a ring of rust around the rims from the metal lids. We would be hot and thirsty too, and my Dad would offer us a swig of his ice water, but we recoiled at the rust. We probably whined to him that the rust was poisonous or something. I will never forget him telling us, "It won't hurt you, it'll just give you extra iron!" Being devotees of Bugs Bunny and Popeye, we knew iron was good for you! I am pretty sure I would always try to wipe the rust off the rim of the jar anyhow, and try not to let my lips touch the rust! We trusted him, and of course we thought he was so cool we had to be just like him so we drank out of those bottles many times during hot summer days. I wonder how many parents now would let their kids drink out of rusted rim bottles? Hey, we're all still alive including my Dad, so it couldn't have been that bad, right? It's so weird, but writing this, I can almost smell our cellar and taste that damn water! It really was ice cold, and had a faint citrusy note to it from the juice that had once been in the jar. I wish I had a drink of that right now, even though it's cold and snowing out.
In the first house we lived in, we had a really old working refrigerator in the basement. I am not quite sure why, I guess as a backup. It was probably from the 1950's. One thing that I always remember being in this refrigerator were at least a couple bottles of ice water. There was no ice in it, it was just cold water, but my Dad always called it ice water. They were these old glass quart jars that orange and grapefruit juice used to come in, with metal screw-on lids. He would fill them up from the set-tub that was down there for the washing machine to drain into. I remember my Dad out mowing the lawn, and coming in the basement through the garage to grab a swig of his ice water. My Dad never wore shorts, in fact he never wore jeans! He was a college professor and always wore suits. His summer work clothes for around the house were an old pair of suit pants that were paint spattered and old short-sleeve button down shirts, also paint splattered. He wore an undershirt with the other shirt all the time. He must have been so hot out mowing the lawn in that get-up!
The ice water bottles eventually would get a ring of rust around the rims from the metal lids. We would be hot and thirsty too, and my Dad would offer us a swig of his ice water, but we recoiled at the rust. We probably whined to him that the rust was poisonous or something. I will never forget him telling us, "It won't hurt you, it'll just give you extra iron!" Being devotees of Bugs Bunny and Popeye, we knew iron was good for you! I am pretty sure I would always try to wipe the rust off the rim of the jar anyhow, and try not to let my lips touch the rust! We trusted him, and of course we thought he was so cool we had to be just like him so we drank out of those bottles many times during hot summer days. I wonder how many parents now would let their kids drink out of rusted rim bottles? Hey, we're all still alive including my Dad, so it couldn't have been that bad, right? It's so weird, but writing this, I can almost smell our cellar and taste that damn water! It really was ice cold, and had a faint citrusy note to it from the juice that had once been in the jar. I wish I had a drink of that right now, even though it's cold and snowing out.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Chalk One Up For DBT and CBT Skills!
This past weekend was pretty hard. Since Leon and I got into a big fight I went into one of those downward spirals of negative emotions taking over. I still am not quite sure how I did it, but I resisted my urges of self-injury and got through it somehow! Man, it was SO HARD too. In retrospect, I think that finally some of the DBT and CBT skills I have been working on learning for the past two years finally sunk in and kicked in without me consciously doing them. I also think the medication I had to go back on has finally kicked in too and that is helping with keeping my thoughts more organized, among other things. I am supposed to be really proud of myself, but it's hard. I know that sounds really dumb, but it's true.
I went to my support group this afternoon and got really good feedback from everyone. Not only did it make me feel better, but I hoped it helped the others to not become so discouraged about their own skill issues. It just really sucks all around for everyone usually, so I hope that helped other people besides myself. I think the really hard thing is having to admit that these skills are actually doing something positive for me when for the longest time I have thought it was just a bunch of psycho-babble and that it was not going to help. *eats a big spoonful of her own words* *chokes on it* LOL!
Things in the relationship department are not necessarily resolved, but they are like, hopefully manageable. We shall see.
I went to my support group this afternoon and got really good feedback from everyone. Not only did it make me feel better, but I hoped it helped the others to not become so discouraged about their own skill issues. It just really sucks all around for everyone usually, so I hope that helped other people besides myself. I think the really hard thing is having to admit that these skills are actually doing something positive for me when for the longest time I have thought it was just a bunch of psycho-babble and that it was not going to help. *eats a big spoonful of her own words* *chokes on it* LOL!
Things in the relationship department are not necessarily resolved, but they are like, hopefully manageable. We shall see.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Why Can't I Be A Vampire????
I don't think it's too much to ask. Really. I have always been fascinated by them. I blame Sesame Street. The Count was so cool, who wouldn't have got sucked into the world of Vampires? No pun intended...maybe. I was even into them way before Ann Rice! I'd be a perfect Vampire too, I already have the always being alone thing down pat. I hate mornings, in fact I don't care for daytime all that much. Just think, I wouldn't have to worry about seasonal affective disorder anymore, I'd always be in the dark so I wouldn't be missing any light! I love the night and all it's creatures, and I even like blood. I should probably say that I don't find the sight of blood disturbing. Except when my kids got hurt, then I was pretty disturbed by it! I used to think that the big drawback was being immortal, when I get so tired of this world, but I decided that having all kinds of cool super-powers might make up for that. Impossible dream........oh how you taunt me!
This weekend was pretty much a bust in the old relationship department. When I say I have the being alone thing down, I am not kidding. It's one thing to do to keep yourself distracted and working on being productive when you are alone, but to have to keep it up the whole weekend because your supposed significant other is either gone, sleeping, watching TV without you, playing games on the computer for hours, not offering to help with anything, doesn't want to go anywhere with you, and then goes to bed really early leaving you once again alone with the dog.........well...I guess I can't complain because I could just end this dead-end raw deal. Seriously, how do I not get a worse complex than I already have over this???? How do I keep from thinking there is something wrong with ME, and that's why he acts like he does? I am supposed to believe that it's something wrong with him, and that he has issues with himself and it's not a reflection on me, but I am telling you, it's really fucking hard!!!! It also makes dealing with my own depression, anxiety and dysfunctional emotions 100% worse. People have told me to break up with him and find someone who really does make me happy and complete me, but all I can think of is that no one would want to be with me! I know, I know, I am basing it on my failed marriage and this dysfunctional relationship, but that's all I have to go on, you know???? It feels like that if I were to take another chance, I would end up being even worse off. I think I would be better off being alone, but then in many ways I hate being alone and fear being alone, so it's just a vicious fucking nightmare circle. Besides, I have so many health and mental issues no one in their right mind would want me anyhow. HAH! Well, there, I've said it. I honestly don't think I am playing the self-pity card here either, I am just being pragmatic.
I am still doing my Gratitude Journal but it has been a real stretch to come up with things the past few days.
This weekend was pretty much a bust in the old relationship department. When I say I have the being alone thing down, I am not kidding. It's one thing to do to keep yourself distracted and working on being productive when you are alone, but to have to keep it up the whole weekend because your supposed significant other is either gone, sleeping, watching TV without you, playing games on the computer for hours, not offering to help with anything, doesn't want to go anywhere with you, and then goes to bed really early leaving you once again alone with the dog.........well...I guess I can't complain because I could just end this dead-end raw deal. Seriously, how do I not get a worse complex than I already have over this???? How do I keep from thinking there is something wrong with ME, and that's why he acts like he does? I am supposed to believe that it's something wrong with him, and that he has issues with himself and it's not a reflection on me, but I am telling you, it's really fucking hard!!!! It also makes dealing with my own depression, anxiety and dysfunctional emotions 100% worse. People have told me to break up with him and find someone who really does make me happy and complete me, but all I can think of is that no one would want to be with me! I know, I know, I am basing it on my failed marriage and this dysfunctional relationship, but that's all I have to go on, you know???? It feels like that if I were to take another chance, I would end up being even worse off. I think I would be better off being alone, but then in many ways I hate being alone and fear being alone, so it's just a vicious fucking nightmare circle. Besides, I have so many health and mental issues no one in their right mind would want me anyhow. HAH! Well, there, I've said it. I honestly don't think I am playing the self-pity card here either, I am just being pragmatic.
I am still doing my Gratitude Journal but it has been a real stretch to come up with things the past few days.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
To Sleep or not to Sleep.......That is Always My Question!
So last night's sleep was ALL messed up. I think I forgot to list in all my ailments that I have GERD or Acid Reflux Disease, whatever you want to call it. Last night I think I was asleep about an hour when I woke up with reflux issues. So, I got up, chomped some rolaids, and of course Roxy decided she had to come hang out with me. Usually she will stay in bed sleeping. Anyhow, I sit up for a while to appease the reflux and go back to bed with Roxy about Midnight-ish. 3:00 am she is waking me up! She is off the bed on the floor and digging at me. She had pulled my hose off my cpap mask, and also stepped on the cpap and turned it off! What a little shit! Apparently all this was because Leon was up really early and she wanted to go out and be with him. I was like, no way man! Pulled her back up on the bed, fixed the cpap and tried to go back to sleep. I sort of did but Roxy was determined to get out of the bedroom so at 4 am I was up. Leon was gone by then so Roxy was mad. Stayed awake until just after 6 am and then went to sit in the recliner and she jumped up in my lap and PFFTT!!!!!!! Next thing I know it's 10:00 am!!!! ARGHHH!!!
Jumped in the shower and headed off to work. Worked til 2:30 then came home and puttered around. About 4:00 pm I went to sit down to knit for a little while, but was just spacy and fell asleep in the chair until 5:30 when Leon came home. I wake up feeling like I am coming off a 12-day drunk or something. Made scrambled eggs for supper, did all the dishes, more puttering, packed up a box to send off to Jess....and now it's almost 9:30 and I am wide awake! I wonder why???????????????????? Leon fell asleep about an hour ago. I think I spend more time alone in this relationship than I would if I was single! I tell you, some days it's so frustrating!!!!!!!!! I guess it's like my therapist tells me when I get all upset over everything to keep telling myself all I have to do is make it through the next 3 minutes and don't forget to BREATHE. Sometimes that helps.
Guess I'll just have to hope for a good night's sleep tonight. :)
Jumped in the shower and headed off to work. Worked til 2:30 then came home and puttered around. About 4:00 pm I went to sit down to knit for a little while, but was just spacy and fell asleep in the chair until 5:30 when Leon came home. I wake up feeling like I am coming off a 12-day drunk or something. Made scrambled eggs for supper, did all the dishes, more puttering, packed up a box to send off to Jess....and now it's almost 9:30 and I am wide awake! I wonder why???????????????????? Leon fell asleep about an hour ago. I think I spend more time alone in this relationship than I would if I was single! I tell you, some days it's so frustrating!!!!!!!!! I guess it's like my therapist tells me when I get all upset over everything to keep telling myself all I have to do is make it through the next 3 minutes and don't forget to BREATHE. Sometimes that helps.
Guess I'll just have to hope for a good night's sleep tonight. :)
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
AWESOME News Today! :)
There is a special fundraiser going on for Spinal Muscular Atrophy called "Chapters-Voices of SMA." What they are doing is having a book published about families' experiences with SMA. 100% of the proceeds will go directly to research. The premise is for family members to write a chapter telling about how SMA has affected their lives. I wrote a chapter and sent it in and.............
I found out today that my chapter will be included in the book!!!!!!!
I am so thrilled to be involved with this wonderful and amazing project! I can't wait until the book comes out! Not just because I will be a "published author" so to speak, but because I know the stories from other people will be so good. Incredibly tragic, but good.
Other than that awesomeness, today was not too bad of a day. My therapist was on vacation for two weeks so today was my first appointment since before Christmas. Luckily I survived the two weeks without her, haha! I didn't mind the appointment, but the drive back out of Burlington was LOUSY! It's a wonder I survived that! Not helpful for the anxiety, that's for sure! I wonder sometimes just what the hell is wrong with some people.......I mean, this was nothing compared to most storms and people were driving like they were in a blizzard! Even with all that over-caution I heard on the news there were a bunch of accidents. I wonder how many were caused by over-paranoid people instead of the usual excessive speed for road conditions? I thought I was back driving in Columbus, Ohio in the winter again! They can't handle storms down there, but this is VERMONT the last time I looked.....right? I just don't get it. I hate driving in bad weather but I don't take chances or do stupid things like brake in the middle of the road for no reason!!!! It was one of those times that I wanted to prostrate myself in my driveway and kiss the ground when I got home! *End Rant*
Monday, January 3, 2011
Get Thee Behind Me!!!!
Here's one of the perks of my sleep apnea......I was told it's "non responsive." In a nutshell, even though I sleep with a C-Pap machine every night, ninety or more percent of the time it just doesn't help. Using a C-Pap has definitely improved my high blood pressure, but as far as the restful sleep thing....not a chance. OK, to be fair, there are some days I think it works, but they are few and far between. Most days I wake up feeling like I never slept and it will take me half the day to feel "awake" only to want to go back to bed around 2-5 PM. Crazy, ain't it? It figures, because for most people with sleep apnea, they feel like that BEFORE they get diagnosed and get their machines. One night's sleep with their C-Pap and the choirs of Angels are singing the Hallelujah Chorus over their beds when they wake up the next morning. Me? I claw out of the covers to something like an out of tune Death March!
Apparently today was one of those days where the damn thing didn't make a difference. I need to rephrase that though, because it does make a difference as in I am actually getting oxygen to my brain at night (shock!) but it doesn't noticeably make me feel "better" or "awake". I should also mention that the non-responsive sleep apnea is happily and permanently married to anxiety, depression, and my emotional dysfunction. So, the worse I feel sleep deprived-wise, the worse the other things get. The other things, will affect my sleep, or lack of quality sleep. We have a no win situation here people! Get Thee Behind Me Vicious Cycle!
Fortunately, at least as of this writing, no bad mental stuff has appeared. *KNOCK ON WOOD!*
Today I have felt like I was maneuvering through a pea soup-ish fog. I did finally get out the door, and was able to work for 2 whole hours today. Those 2 hours felt like a 12 hour shift though. I remember all the crazy shifts I used to work in the past, 2nd, 3rd, splits, back to backs, and wonder how I even did it. My sleep doctor told me that the years and years of whacked out shifts also contribute to my problems, because all the years of sleep I lost between work and raising kids never renews itself. I think most people think you catch up on lost sleep, but apparently you never do. At least in my case. If I tried to work an 8 hour shift in any of my past occupations, I would never make it. I think too, that when I have a really good day and get tons accomplished, it somehow exhausts me for the next. I ought to pay attention and see if there is a pattern there. It may sound like I am whining here, but I am not. Well, maybe just a little. I am just grateful for the little work I can do because it could be a lot worse. I am also grateful I have such a nice boss too! Yes, Sue, that would be you! :)
Speaking of being grateful, I decided to start another Gratitude Journal. All you do is list 5 things every day you are grateful for, no matter how inconsequential they seem. I did one a couple years ago for about 6 months and then bailed, just me and my not following through I guess. It really did make a difference though, so I decided to start it up again. I won't list it here, because I already wrote it in a special notebook. Actually, I will tell you one thing I wrote tonight: "I am grateful that I didn't have to cook tonight." Thank Goodness for leftovers on a bad sleep apnea day! :)
Apparently today was one of those days where the damn thing didn't make a difference. I need to rephrase that though, because it does make a difference as in I am actually getting oxygen to my brain at night (shock!) but it doesn't noticeably make me feel "better" or "awake". I should also mention that the non-responsive sleep apnea is happily and permanently married to anxiety, depression, and my emotional dysfunction. So, the worse I feel sleep deprived-wise, the worse the other things get. The other things, will affect my sleep, or lack of quality sleep. We have a no win situation here people! Get Thee Behind Me Vicious Cycle!
Fortunately, at least as of this writing, no bad mental stuff has appeared. *KNOCK ON WOOD!*
Today I have felt like I was maneuvering through a pea soup-ish fog. I did finally get out the door, and was able to work for 2 whole hours today. Those 2 hours felt like a 12 hour shift though. I remember all the crazy shifts I used to work in the past, 2nd, 3rd, splits, back to backs, and wonder how I even did it. My sleep doctor told me that the years and years of whacked out shifts also contribute to my problems, because all the years of sleep I lost between work and raising kids never renews itself. I think most people think you catch up on lost sleep, but apparently you never do. At least in my case. If I tried to work an 8 hour shift in any of my past occupations, I would never make it. I think too, that when I have a really good day and get tons accomplished, it somehow exhausts me for the next. I ought to pay attention and see if there is a pattern there. It may sound like I am whining here, but I am not. Well, maybe just a little. I am just grateful for the little work I can do because it could be a lot worse. I am also grateful I have such a nice boss too! Yes, Sue, that would be you! :)
Speaking of being grateful, I decided to start another Gratitude Journal. All you do is list 5 things every day you are grateful for, no matter how inconsequential they seem. I did one a couple years ago for about 6 months and then bailed, just me and my not following through I guess. It really did make a difference though, so I decided to start it up again. I won't list it here, because I already wrote it in a special notebook. Actually, I will tell you one thing I wrote tonight: "I am grateful that I didn't have to cook tonight." Thank Goodness for leftovers on a bad sleep apnea day! :)
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Short but Sweet!
Today was actually a good day. :)
Made 13 bean soup with the ham bone from yesterday's dinner, and homemade oatmeal bread. I won't make that particular recipe again though, it was ok but way too molassessessy! Yes, I declare that a word!
Started a baby sweater, a knitted one. Didn't have to go anywhere, got floors mopped. Thrilling indeed, but no stress and no issues today. Well, except all the dishes I had to do. Damn things multiply like rabbits!
I am thankful for a good day for a change.
Made 13 bean soup with the ham bone from yesterday's dinner, and homemade oatmeal bread. I won't make that particular recipe again though, it was ok but way too molassessessy! Yes, I declare that a word!
Started a baby sweater, a knitted one. Didn't have to go anywhere, got floors mopped. Thrilling indeed, but no stress and no issues today. Well, except all the dishes I had to do. Damn things multiply like rabbits!
I am thankful for a good day for a change.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
A New Year....Hopefully Mindfully and One Day at a Time
Welcome 2011.
I hope this year will be better for me. Last year wasn't horribly unbearable, but it was crappy enough in a lot of ways. Of course when you are me, and have Borderline Personality Disorder, Emotional Dysfunction, Anxiety, Depression, Seasonal Affective Disorder, VERY low and possibly at times non-existent Self-Esteem, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, Sleep Apnea, and ride the borderline of being Diabetic.....well, lets just say things can be pretty crappy and unbearable for me that aren't for most people. That was a freaking mouthful!! I may even have left out some disorder or another. Anyhoo, it's all one big vicious circle for me pretty much on a daily basis, and can be for the people around me too, though I try not to drag too many people down with me. :P
It's kind of hard to make this public knowledge here, but on the other hand, I know there are many of you who having known me through the years will suddenly have the proverbial light bulb turn on over your heads. :) It may explain a lot to you, or you may not even care, but that's O.K. too.
I was talking to my daughter and asked her how she dealt with her bouts of depression. She told me that she just finds ways to get herself out of it and moves on. My son has expressed a similar solution, as in sucking it up, dealing with it, and moving on. Here's the kicker for me about that. Apparently there is at least one if not more chemical disorders in my brain that won't allow that function for me. I have to be on numerous medications and follow various sets of skills I have in workbooks to make my mind do what it's "supposed to" to deal with even daily life. In other words I have to work with practicing and using Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical Behavior Therapy from books and worksheets that most people can just automatically perform in their brains without even thinking about it. It's not easy. Some days I think I probably need to lug my binders around with me, but that's not necessarily practical. You can't just pick up a book in the middle of a disagreement and say- "Hold on a sec, I need to check how I am supposed to act here and respond to you." A lot of it does get ingrained in my memory, but when the emotions take over as they do so often, everything else becomes useless.
Some days I can be as "normal" as anyone else, whatever that is! In fact, for years, I passed myself off as "normal" somehow. It just all caught up with me one day a little over 3 years ago and BLAM! Not a good scene at all. Does anyone remember that show "Night Court"? There were a few episodes with John Astin playing Harry Anderson's step-father. He had just got out of a mental institution and said with a maniacal look on his face- "But I'm doing MUCH better NOW!" Well, that's kinda how I feel. I wasn't institutionalized though, so it could have been worse, right? :)
Other days......ehhhhh.......not so much. One of the tricks to all this is to be able to recognize triggers or feel it coming on, but my Distant Early Warning System isn't always in operation. Then everything can crash and burn in seconds over something very inconsequential. The fallout isn't very nice either. It's confusing as all Hell too, to be sad and feel like no one cares about you and feel so lonely, yet at the same time you want to hide and avoid people. It's also very hard when you have been negative your whole life pretty much, to try to do the opposite and be positive. The worst is when you have been working SO HARD to be positive and then a negative thing comes along and cancels it all out. Another thing is that even though I know I have been working so hard on keeping it all together and didn't act out or have a meltdown, yet at the same time somehow can't see it, or acknowledge it. Weird, huh?
I think that's enough revelation for now.
My intentions with this blog are to help myself, by writing, though I will leave the really sordid stuff for offline journaling. I also hope to spread some awareness and promote acceptance for mental illness. Oh, before I forget, I am including a link to a pretty decent definition of Borderline Personality Disorder for those interested, or of course you can Google it yourself.
http://www.medterms.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=17770
If anyone actually reads this and responds, I would appreciate it.
I hope this year will be better for me. Last year wasn't horribly unbearable, but it was crappy enough in a lot of ways. Of course when you are me, and have Borderline Personality Disorder, Emotional Dysfunction, Anxiety, Depression, Seasonal Affective Disorder, VERY low and possibly at times non-existent Self-Esteem, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, Sleep Apnea, and ride the borderline of being Diabetic.....well, lets just say things can be pretty crappy and unbearable for me that aren't for most people. That was a freaking mouthful!! I may even have left out some disorder or another. Anyhoo, it's all one big vicious circle for me pretty much on a daily basis, and can be for the people around me too, though I try not to drag too many people down with me. :P
It's kind of hard to make this public knowledge here, but on the other hand, I know there are many of you who having known me through the years will suddenly have the proverbial light bulb turn on over your heads. :) It may explain a lot to you, or you may not even care, but that's O.K. too.
I was talking to my daughter and asked her how she dealt with her bouts of depression. She told me that she just finds ways to get herself out of it and moves on. My son has expressed a similar solution, as in sucking it up, dealing with it, and moving on. Here's the kicker for me about that. Apparently there is at least one if not more chemical disorders in my brain that won't allow that function for me. I have to be on numerous medications and follow various sets of skills I have in workbooks to make my mind do what it's "supposed to" to deal with even daily life. In other words I have to work with practicing and using Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical Behavior Therapy from books and worksheets that most people can just automatically perform in their brains without even thinking about it. It's not easy. Some days I think I probably need to lug my binders around with me, but that's not necessarily practical. You can't just pick up a book in the middle of a disagreement and say- "Hold on a sec, I need to check how I am supposed to act here and respond to you." A lot of it does get ingrained in my memory, but when the emotions take over as they do so often, everything else becomes useless.
Some days I can be as "normal" as anyone else, whatever that is! In fact, for years, I passed myself off as "normal" somehow. It just all caught up with me one day a little over 3 years ago and BLAM! Not a good scene at all. Does anyone remember that show "Night Court"? There were a few episodes with John Astin playing Harry Anderson's step-father. He had just got out of a mental institution and said with a maniacal look on his face- "But I'm doing MUCH better NOW!" Well, that's kinda how I feel. I wasn't institutionalized though, so it could have been worse, right? :)
Other days......ehhhhh.......not so much. One of the tricks to all this is to be able to recognize triggers or feel it coming on, but my Distant Early Warning System isn't always in operation. Then everything can crash and burn in seconds over something very inconsequential. The fallout isn't very nice either. It's confusing as all Hell too, to be sad and feel like no one cares about you and feel so lonely, yet at the same time you want to hide and avoid people. It's also very hard when you have been negative your whole life pretty much, to try to do the opposite and be positive. The worst is when you have been working SO HARD to be positive and then a negative thing comes along and cancels it all out. Another thing is that even though I know I have been working so hard on keeping it all together and didn't act out or have a meltdown, yet at the same time somehow can't see it, or acknowledge it. Weird, huh?
I think that's enough revelation for now.
My intentions with this blog are to help myself, by writing, though I will leave the really sordid stuff for offline journaling. I also hope to spread some awareness and promote acceptance for mental illness. Oh, before I forget, I am including a link to a pretty decent definition of Borderline Personality Disorder for those interested, or of course you can Google it yourself.
http://www.medterms.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=17770
If anyone actually reads this and responds, I would appreciate it.
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