Today it happened. Maybe it’s just a swing and I’ll go back to the old way of thinking again, but then again, maybe not. This morning I found myself in a situation that has happened a hundred times before, but instead of just thinking it was okay, today I got mad. Furious. I still am. And then it hit me…actually, I think the universe just reached its hand out and smacked me in the face with it. You know what? I’m an awesome person. I’m a really awesome person, and I’m tired of being treated and thought of like I’m a nothing. I’m sick of letting myself get walked all over because I don’t think my opinions are worth anything. I’m fed up with worrying about what people think of me, what they are saying about me, or what will happen if I don’t have all the answers. Nobody else has all the answers either, so why do I feel like I have to? If other people don’t see the awesomeness that is me, it’s not my problem, it’s theirs.
I stepped back and took a good hard look at myself today. And for once, instead of seeing every flaw, I saw someone of value. I saw beauty. I saw someone who is funny, smart, caring, loyal, and passionate. Those people who just look past me or brush me aside are really missing out on something. No, I may not make Maxim’s Top 100 Most Beautiful Women list, or be a Martha Stewart Pinterest Perfect Mom, or win Wife of the Decade, but I’m still beautiful, still a loving mommy, and I love my husband with 1000% of my heart. I may not have the body of a Victoria’s Secret model, but I do have a body that created and nurtured 2 beautiful little girls that I couldn’t be prouder of. Maybe I’m not as smart as a fifth grader (damn, some of those questions are HARD), but I’m not an idiot, either. I have the ability to make my husband laugh so hard that he can’t breathe, and I take his breath away in other ways, too. ;) My daughters think I can do anything in the world. I mean, I can repair mermaids, y’all. That’s a pretty handy skill to have, right there. For most of my life I’ve looked at everyone around me and assumed that they were doing “it” better than me. Today, though, I realized that most people are actually just like me; feeling their way through life and doing the best they can with what they have. No, maybe a lot of people don’t have the mental illness part of it, but I’d be willing to bet that more people than you think DO struggle with some sort of mood disorder. It’s very liberating to stop caring so much about things. You can like me or not. It doesn’t bother me anymore which way you decide on that. You can agree or disagree with me; that’s up to you, but I’m not going to change my opinion just to please you. I’m going to do things the way I want to do them instead of letting myself be pushed into doing things the way other people want me to do them. I’m not five years old anymore and I don’t need my hand held. I despise the phrase “Why didn’t you just [fill in the blank]?” Why? Because I didn’t want to do it that way! And I’m not going to apologize for it anymore or silently flog myself for doing [fill in the blank] “wrong”. Unless I’m breaking the law, then my way is not the wrong way. It’s just my way. Maybe today’s incident was meant to do exactly what it did, which is push me in the direction of true self awareness. I’m awesome, with a side of “crazy”. That’s starting to sound pretty good to me.
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Hoo-boy, lemme tell ya, I am SO glad this week is almost over. It feels like I've been simultaneously riding a super bullet train at full speed ahead and slogging through quicksand. I know, I know, that's a weird combination, but there ya go. Honestly, I'm not really sure what a super bullet train is or if it's even a real thing, but I saw it in the MyTown2 app and it cost $150 (in-game currency), so it must be cool.
I'm exhausted. Work is crazy busy and sooooo not what I'd prefer spending my time doing. But, it pays the bills, so I can't complain too loudly. The summer is quickly approaching, and my kids are getting tired of school. I know it, they know it, we all know it. The closer it gets, though, the more ornery they seem to get. Sheesh. One would think if I can manage to keep it together at work, that I could go an evening without going spider monkey on my kids, but it's harder to do than you'd think, esp. when every moment they are awake is filled with drama. H is 10 going on 16, hormone wise, it seems. She is so fuh-reakin' moody,and I'm pretty sure if looks could kill, I'd be dead as a doornail by now. L is 5 going on 16, too. Last night she was unhappy because I didn't have any spicy mints (that's Wint-O-Green mints for those that don't know) on-hand, so she stomped off to her room and slammed the door. Slammed.the.door. No. No way, no how. is that going to start at her age. We have a rule that if you slam your door more than twice, the door comes off its hinges for a week. I went bee-line'ing after her and reminded her of this fact and we had ourselves a little talk about respect and tempers and attitude. If I'm already having to deal with this stuff at ages 5 and 10, what is it going to be like when they are teenagers? Yeah, I'm going to just not think about that right now. Last weekend I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea of how to keep Max and Emmy from going nut-so at the neighboring dog, Bruiser. It didn't work, though. These 3 have a constant battle going on, and I'm surprised people in Canada can't hear me screaming at them to "STOP IT AND GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!". Anyway, hubs and I are both at our wit's end on how to get them both to stop barking at Bruiser, and Emmy from digging at the fence that separates them. They know they aren't supposed to do it because the second hubby opens the door, they squat and pee and then run and cower. The peace will last about 10 minutes and then they're back at it again. I like to think that Bruiser is doing some serious shit talking about our family, and Max and Emmy are just out there defending our honor. It's better than thinking they're just complete idiots. The long search is over. Hubby has an Xbox One and we've been on a mission for months to find the latest Tomb Raider game. Best Buy doesn't have it, Target doesn't have it, Fry's doesn't have it. I finally found it on Amazon and it was the last copy in stock. Anyway, it arrived today, so hubs is playing it now, and all I can say is this game better be damn good considering how hard it was to find. Oh, and for the record, I'm not sure what this says about our society nowadays, but even Tomb Raider has curse words in it now. I'm so excited for Sunday because a new episode of Enlisted will be airing (6pm on Fox). FINALLY! Guys, if you haven't watched this show, do. It's hilarious. I'm usually crying from laughter in every episode, but number 5 is seriously the best. If your sense of humor is anything like mine and hubby's, I promise...guarantee... you'll see the brilliance of it. The evening is winding down and I have one more day until the freedom of the weekend is here. It's going to be a good one, I can feel it. Coming off of a long weekend is usually difficult for me. It’s probably difficult for a lot of people because nobody, except for those that really, truly love their job, really wants to return to work after 3 days of freedom. Most of my holiday was great, and then Monday hit and everything went to hell. Saturday and Sunday were awesome. I spent some wonderful time with the girls and my husband, got a lot done around the house, and had a lot of laughs and fun. Honestly, I felt really good…happy, satisfied, content, back to my sarcastic, makin’ jokes, self. I was low on sleep, but that was really the only cloud in my sky. Then Monday came around, and I did a complete 180. I had a terrible headache and my low back was aching and I basically felt like crap. I spent the day in bed, missing out on the family barbeque at my uncle’s, which I hated doing. My husband and the girls did the grocery store run for me. And you know what? Instead of just accepting the help and appreciating it (which I did appreciate, please don’t misunderstand) and moving on, I felt guilty. So very guilty. I had done a lot around the house Sat and Sun, but because I couldn’t participate in anything on Monday, all I could feel was overwhelming guilt. And sadness.
I want to chalk it up to just lack of sleep. And although I have no doubt that was a contributing factor, I know that is not the only thing going on here. I’ve talked in other posts about my propensity for feeling guilt over everything – whether I’m at fault or not. That’s why I know it’s not just the sleep thing. I got plenty of sleep last night, but I still feel the same way today. I was thinking about it on my drive in to work, and I remembered something one of my previous doctors told me about 12 years ago. After multiple attempts of treating me, with not much success (we had tried about 6 different antidepressants), she had a theory that I had Bipolar II Disorder and had me take a detailed test to see if I fit the profile. The moment I heard her say “Bipolar”, I freaked out and basically went into denial. I took the test, and was very honest on it even though I was positive – ADAMANT – that I did not have any kind of Bipolarism. It was shortly after that particular visit, that I stopped all treatment for my mental health and went into full blown “I’m fine, I can think my way out of this” mode. By the way, this doesn’t work. For years after I would go a year or so w/o medication until something would trigger me to try getting help again, I’d start something, not feel better, and go back off. I cycled through that routine for years and years. Flash forward to the past year or so. I’ve gone through 4-5 months of starvation mode(entering eating disorder territory), self harm/suicide mode, mental hospital and intensive group therapy, one on one counseling, and treatment by an actual psychiatrist instead of a primary care physician. Not once has the mention of Bipolar II been made. But I’m starting to think there might be something to my old doctor’s theory. I did some research today on it, and it was eye-opening. The description and symptoms are dead on ME. I swing back and forth between happy and depressed a lot. But I never reach full blown mania like one typically thinks of when they hear Bipolar. In Bipolar II, the “manic” episodes are referred to as “hypomania” which is characterized by either euphoria or irritability. Hypomania can cause people to do things and act in ways that are not normal for them. The euphoria is not something as major as full blown mania, but more of a happy go lucky, life of the party, super fun to be around behavior. The irritability is pretty self explanatory – snappish, cranky, moody behavior. The depressive episodes are similar to “regular” clinical depression. I’m really not sure what to do with this thought. I don’t know if I should mention it to my psychiatrist and be evaluated for it again. I don’t know that I want to change any medications again because it takes such a toll on your physical body and your mental state. Most of me wants to deny it again. I don’t want to be Bipolar II. I don’t want to have Major Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, or Body Dysmorphic Disorder. I don’t want to have ANY OF IT. I am so pissed off that I have to deal with any of this. I listen to people around me at work, I look at my friends, my husband and my daughters, who are all such happy people, and I get angry. Why can’t that be me? WHY? Why does my happiness have to come in spurts? Why do I feel guilty over everything, no matter how much I’m assured by my loved ones that I shouldn’t? Why do I feel like crying all the damn time, but can’t get a tear out? Why do I hate myself so much and obsess over my physical flaws; flaws that nobody else supposedly notices (even though I’m absolutely positive they do and just don’t want to admit it for fear of hurting my feelings)? Why do I feel all of this and then a day later be happy and confident and calm, and then two days later swing back over to the negative? Why, why, why??????? More than anything today I feel like stopping everything. Stopping the medication again. Stop talking about anything that isn’t 100% necessary to just survive a day. I’m battling a very intense desire to just shut down, zone out, stop trying. But I can’t. I made a promise to my husband that I would not quit treatment. But I want all of this to just f***ing STOP. I almost didn’t post this today because I thought it sounded too negative. I had to remind myself that the entire point of this blog was to be real; give a voice and picture to mental illness, and let others who might also suffer with some or all of this know they’re not alone. That’s why I’m hitting the publish button. I’m scared that people will start backing away from me or tuning out. But it’s a risk I have to take because I do not want to perpetuate our society’s tendency to ignore, or even worse, shun, people who battle these problems. You know what really hits home the point that people who struggle like me are often looked at like we’re a bomb about to explode? I looked up synonyms for “mental illness”. The following words popped up: lunacy, insanity, craziness, madness, disturbed mind, psychopathy. Yeah. Makes sense why people don’t want to reveal their struggles. Because according to today’s world, people like me are just crazy psychopath lunatics. Let’s just all take a moment and think about that. I am an avid music lover. I discovered my passion for music in elementary school, and it’s only grown as I age. The other day I was listening to some songs on my playlist that I haven’t listened to in awhile and one really jumped out at me. It was the song Cut by Plumb. When I really tuned in to the lyrics, they hit me like a sledgehammer. The stanzas that really made me catch my breath are these:
I’m not a stranger No I am yours With crippled anger And tears that still drip sore A fragile flame aged With misery And when our hearts meet I know you see I may seem crazy Or painfully shy And those scars wouldn’t be so hidden If you would just look me in the eye I feel alone here and cold here Though I don’t want to die But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside This song touches me deeply, not only the lyrics, but the way it is sung, too. It’s beautiful. My interpretation of this song is that the lines “I’m not a stranger, No I am yours” represent my relationship with God. I know He sees the troubles that lay heavy on me at times. Even when I completely lost my way there for awhile, I knew that He could see and wanted to help me, only I wouldn’t let Him. I’m very glad that I found my way back, with all kinds of help, and have opened my heart to Him again. If you listen to the rest of the song, it speaks of “cutting” and although that is not something I’ve ever done, I can very much understand why those that do cut do it. I’ve hurt myself in other ways, and I did it because I would be either so angry at myself that it was a form of self punishment or so depressed that it was the only way I could make myself feel anything. While I feel like I am past these types of behaviors now, I wonder if I’ll ever backslide. It’s probably the biggest fear I have. I don’t want to ever hit rock bottom again. I listen to this song now, and it gives me goose bumps because listening to it from this point in my recovery reminds me of how low I really hit and how far I have come since. I’m still a work in progress, but that is true of everyone. I just may need a little more work than some, but that’s okay. Don’t worry, most things I listen to are not as serious as this. I like all varieties of music, minus Jazz. I don’t know why, but I’ve never been a fan. I especially like music that I can turn up loud and dance to. H is following in my footsteps in this way. One year for some holiday (can't remember which one) hubby bought me a Bose music thingy that you dock your phone into. We love to put it on as loud as possible and dance around while cooking dinner or cleaning up around the house. I'm also known for seat dancing in the car and at work at my desk (shhhh, don't tell anyone). I believe that music mirrors what goes on inside of us through how we interpret and react to what we hear. There are certain songs that register so strongly with me that just hearing the opening notes can give me a chill and bring about sudden memories that I thought were long lost. I am comforted that I enjoy fun music as much as I do the slower, sadder ones. I think it proves that I really do have a side that is happy and fun loving. Not that that fact necessarily needs proving, because I really do know that I have these qualities the majority of the time. It's just that the "bad Alison" in my head likes to whisper lies to me, and when I'm feeling weaker I forget the truth and start believing the deception. The good news is that I'm getting stronger at fighting back and remembering who I really am at the core. To help me with the fight, I have a plan to make a playlist that is only of songs that are inspiring to me and make me happy; songs that reflect the real truth of who I am. As in typical fashion, my mentality took a hard right today and now I’m back in happy land. The triggering event is trivial, ridiculous even, but the moment it happened I actually squealed and my manager turned around thinking I had stepped on a mouse. I tried to explain to her what had prompted my sudden excitement, but I don’t really think she got it. I know of only a few people who would understand it, but that’s ok. It brought some joy into my little piece of the world, and I will never turn my nose up at that!
This week has been a hard one for me (until about 2 hours ago). It’s a combination of factors: new medicine that I’m trying to adjust to, worries about my daughters’ school and after school situation, battles between the “good Alison” and the “bad Alison” going at each other in my brain. Then you have all the little nuisances of life that just seem to pile up one on top of another until you get buried under the stress of “What the HECK is going on!?!”. Examples – I’m battling fruit flies again – disgusting, annoying, little buggers (although I think my daughters are slightly enjoying my antics as I try to exterminate them); I had a pedicure over the weekend and then promptly broke my big toenail to the point of blood and lots of pain; I’m covered in bruises from tripping over my dogs or running into doors, doorframes, doorknobs (I’m not good with doors), counters, you name it. I could swear there is a ghost in my house that hides 1 of every pair of socks and all of L’s shoes and her TV remote. There is something in Haley’s bed that is biting her legs, but I can’t find anything in her bedding or mattress. It’s a loft bed, so no dogs go up there. She claims ants. Great. That’s what I need. All of these things are minor by themselves, but they creep up on you and dogpile on your brain, along with all the big worries, and suddenly you find yourself hysterical, melting down, and back to the scary thoughts of self harm. Guys, I wish with all my heart and soul that I could cure depression and GAD. I wish I could forgive myself, accept myself, love myself. Why, why, why is this so hard? I keep asking God what His plan is for me. I know He has one, and I know that it may be another 25 years down the road before I realize what it is. But my theory is, and I’ve talked about this before, that I’m going through this so that I can share my story with the world and bring awareness and hope to others. If I’ve only reached one person with this blog, then that is success. So, I’ve told you some of the bad things that have been happening this week. There’s been good, too. L makes me laugh so hard sometimes. She is so expressive! I want to follow along behind her with my phone recording her because her mannerisms and facial expressions are just too much. She is such a cutie, and I’m afraid she knows it and uses it to her advantage. And yeah, I’ve let her. She has me wrapped around her finger. Actually, both of my girls do. It’s so difficult for me to tell them no. I think part of it is the “people pleaser” aspect of my personality and part of it is their downcast expressions break my heart. I know I’m going to have to toughen up as they get older. But not yet, ok? I sit next to a co-worker that has me cracking up even when I’m determined to be gloomy. It’s impossible not to smile when she’s making her jokes and throwing her snark around. When I’m not in a funk, she’s the mirror image of me in the snark department. She nicknamed me Alicat today, which nobody has ever called me before. I find this strange now that I think about it. It’s a pretty straightforward nickname, and we had a ton of fun finding hilarious videos of cats for about 15 minutes after that. I was crying at one point from two cats screaming at each other with subtitles. Animals are hilarious. I have a rather new co-worker that is sooooooo quiet. I’ve made it my mission to make him talk and get him to open up. We’re making progress. Occasionally, I’ll ball up a piece of paper and launch it over the cube wall without looking. So far, I’m 3 for 3 in nailing him straight in the head. Score! I have a feeling one of these days I’ll get mine, but that’s alright. He’s laughing, my manager is laughing, so it makes the day entertaining. I’m making great progress on my fiction writing, and I’m having such fun with it. I’ll be be-bopping along in my day and then get an idea and immediately start searching for paper and pen to jot it down so I can think more about how I want to weave it into the story. It started out as a short story, but I keep thinking of more avenues I can go with it, so I’m not sure how long it will actually be when I decide I’m done with it. I’m ready for the upcoming long weekend and the official opening of our pool season. We worked really hard on getting it cleaned up and ready for summer last weekend, and it’s looking good. The girls have been clamoring to get in, even though we’ve warned them the water is still going to be really cold. They don’t care, though. L will be going into swim lessons this summer, which she is not thrilled about, but it’s a must. She loves the water as long as she’s in her floaty or in someone’s arms, but it’s time she get comfortable in the water without those things. H resisted just as much and ended up having a great time in her lessons, so I anticipate L having the same reaction. My hubs will randomly send me the funniest (albeit probably inappropriate except to a select few) memes and pictures. We’ll both crack up and I love those moments. He really gets me. We’ll watch The Big Bang Theory or one of our favorite funny movies (can you say Galaxy Quest & The Replacements?) and just laugh. Our kids look at us like we’re crazy, which makes it all the more hilarious because I know we’re grooming them to have the same sense of humor we have. Just writing all this out has made me realize how much good I really do have in my life. The bad parts are pretty bad, but the good parts are amazing. The mood swings are difficult because I swing so fast that it’s alarming to everyone around me. I can’t understand it, so I certainly can’t explain to them why I am happy as a clam one day and the next day having terrifying thoughts. I’ve tried so hard to make people aware that I don’t have control of it. I am trying to, but it’s not as simple as they seem to want to make it be. So, for now, I’ll continue putting one foot in front of the other and muddling my way through the messiness of my mind. More importantly, I’m embracing the small joys as they happen, because it is those joys that help counteract the scary stuff that still creeps into my head. There are things I love and things I hate. Sometimes, these things coincide and sometimes not, but I felt like listing a few of them here because they were on my mind, and I have a gut feeling that some people can empathize with one or two things here.
Hate: Fruit flies. I hate, detest, loathe, abhor, pick your word...but I cannot stand them. We had an infestation a few years ago and I literally turned into a crazy lady fighting them. Example: I even tried sucking them out of the air with a vacuum hose (this caused a lot of laughter at my expense, by the way). Anyway, I've seen a few the past few days and I made a comment about the fact that I AM HAVING NONE OF THIS AGAIN! Lead in to the love.... Love - L calls the fly swatter the "whacker". I cracked up. Hate: People who cannot drive correctly. I'm talking about the ones that blow through stop signs, go straight from a turn only lane, or conversely, turn from a straight only lane and nearly slam into you due to their idiocy. The list could go on forever, so I'll leave it there, but seriously, I don't know how half the people on the road managed to get a driver's license. Oh wait...they probably don't have one, hence the craziness that I see on a daily basis. Love: Yelling obscenities at the road crazies (when the little ones aren't in the car with me). Hate: Having to wake up at a set time. I'm one of those people that does best when I'm allowed to sleep until I naturally wake up. I'm not a morning person on my best days, but weekdays are even worse because my body is certainly not wanting to wake up at 5am. Love: My Venti Mocha Frappuccino Light on the way to work. It makes me slightly happier, and when you combine that with my Favorites playlist on full blast? Bliss - or as blissful as going to work at an unnatural time of day can be. Hate: Laundry. All aspects of it. "Nuff said. Love:The smell of my latest favorite Scentsy scent - Coconut something or other. It's deliciousness. Hate: Putting on makeup. I dislike my appearance even more without it, though, so I go through the exercise every day. But I detest the process. Love: Having long hair. I can do just about anything with it and when I run out of ideas I throw it up in a pony and there ya go. Hate: Candy Crush Love: Candy Crush Hate: Seafood, especially anything that looks like it's a sea bug or looks slimy. That would include shrimp, lobster, crayfish (crawfish?), oysters, clams, squid. Just yuck. Love: The look on people's faces when I tell them that shrimp are just sea roaches. Hehe. Hate: Listening to chronic complainers and people who can't stand being outdone by anyone else. Hate even more having to bite my tongue from going off on them. Love: My boss. She's just the best. Hate: The new school my oldest will be attending next year. I found out too late about its reputation and it's too late to apply for an intra-district transfer and I just don't know what I'm going to do. I'm a nervous wreck about it. :( Love: My family. [Insert heart here] Wow, so much can change in a day. Yesterday, I was filled with happiness at all the small accomplishments I have made lately. This morning I woke up angry. So very angry. You might be wondering what I'm angry at, and that is a very good question. It's a very frustrating question because I don't have the answer. What I do know is that I woke up, looked in the mirror while getting ready for work, and I was immediately filled with hate at what I saw. That hatred fed the anger that was already simmering under the surface so that by the time I reached work, I couldn't even speak to anyone. It was too risky because I'm not sure what would have come flying out of my mouth.
I know everyone has something about themselves they don't like or wish they could change. Some probably even have a whole list. I'm one of those people. I could write a book on the things that I would love to change about myself. From the physical to the emotional to the mental, it all boils down to the fact that I don't like myself. It's worrisome because if you can't love yourself, how can you expect others to love you? Yesterday afternoon I had a very real and emotional conversation with my oldest daughter. Some people may believe that you should shield your children from things like this, but I don't believe that. Perhaps to a point, I do. L is far too young to understand, so my conversation with her will occur in many more years. But H is old enough for me to really talk to, and so I did. I explained to her that I have something called depression. We talked about the fact that it is a chemical imbalance in the brain, and that I will have to take medicine for the rest of my life to help battle it. We talked about the fact that my down days are not her fault, not L's fault, not my husband's fault, and not even my fault. I very much wanted her to understand that she was/is in no way, shape, or form responsible for my happiness or my illness. It was a raw conversation...one that left us both in tears, but not angry ones. Tears of bonding. She understood. She got it. I told her that she and L were the most precious and best things that I have or ever will create and I would gladly give my life for either of them if it came down to it. I told her how wonderfully proud of her I am. She is growing into such a polite, poised, smart, funny, and beautiful girl. My heart swells with pride when I get to say, "This is my daughter". I don't want her growing up seeing me in varying stages of mental instability and not understand. I would imagine that would be so scary for her, and that fear would probably ultimately turn itself inward. Kids do that. They see something wrong with their parents, and they blame themselves. I will do everything within my power to make sure she does not do that. She will understand and stand beside me, helping me, uplifting me, and I will do the same for her when she faces any challenges that come her way. That is what family is about. I had an appointment with my psychiatrist today. I told her about the mood swings, and gave her today as a prime example. We are tweaking my medicine here and there, and we'll see if that helps. I told her about my writing, and she seemed to think it was a good thing. I will go back in 2 months to see how I'm doing, unless something dire comes up in the meantime. Did I feel better after leaving her office? No. I came home and sat down to write this. This is what makes me feel better. Sometimes the emotion, pain, anger, and sadness crashes over me like a huge wave, and it leaves me topsy turvy, not sure which way is even up. For me, writing down what is going on inside my head makes it not quite as overwhelming. Sometimes I worry that my posts are too depressing and people will stop reading, but I suppose that's a risk one takes when they decide to tell their story in all its raw glory. I think that fear right there - the fear of pushing others away - is why this illness is still so hush hush. Nobody likes to talk about it because what do you really say to a clinically depressed person? Not a whole lot of helpful things, as I can attest to. People mean well, they really do. But that doesn't mean their help is all that helpful. On a lighter note, well not really, because I'm crushed over it, but it's not a huge thing in the grand scheme of life. My very favorite of favorite shows had its season finale last week. And my very favorite of favorite characters died in the show and I'm reading rumors on the internet that he will not be returning for the next season. Why this has me so upset, I don't know. Well, that's not entirely true. I get very invested in my shows, which is why I only watch a handful. I'm one of those diehard fans when I find a show that fully captures me. So, I didn't take the finale well, and the news that my darling actor may not be coming back is not making me do the happy dance. It's making me do the sad shuffle instead. Tonight I am going to do my best to turn my thinking around. I have to. Until the new medicine regime kicks in and I see whether it will do me some good or not, I have to play the mental game. That means a lot of self talk, prayer, and some laughs here and there with friends would be awesome, too. I'm also going to focus on my fiction writing. So far, the short story that I wrote has been well received. I sent it to one more person, and I'm anxious to get their feedback, as well. Depending on how that goes, I may finally drum up the courage to post it on here. It will take a lot, and I mean a LOT, of courage to do that, but that seems to be my theme these days. Six month ago, even four months ago, I never would have dreamed of letting the world into my head. Only the closest of close people to me knew the truth, and even then, not to the full extent of what I battle every single day. So, with that being said, I woke up angry today, and I'm determined to change that tonight, so tomorrow when the alarm goes off I can smile at the morning and find some small amount of peace in the new day. Oftentimes, I've focused my writings on the negatives and hurts that occur in my life. I do this, not to depress anyone who reads my blog, but to simply be real. Unfortunately, a lot of what goes on in my head is the ugliness that I write about. But! I do have good, very good, things happening, too. Today, I wanted to focus on those things. So, today's post is a tribute to the baby steps towards happiness and all the good that is in my little piece of this world.
I had an incredible Mother's Day. My girls made me the most precious homemade cards that I will treasure forever. I can't wait to take them to work and hang them up in my cube so that I can look at them throughout the day and smile about those beautiful, precious beings that I helped bring into this world. I also enjoyed a wonderful lunch with my entire family that was filled with laughter and happiness and good food. I ended the day watching a movie with my oldest, and then watching Frozen with my littlest. WHY have I not watched Frozen before this???? Wow, it was so great, and now I understand my daughter's obsession with it. The best part about it? It was all about girl power. Anna buying the supplies that Kristoff and Sven needed, and then turning around and saving Kristoff from the wolves. Elsa defending herself from the two men trying to kill her. And the act of pure love that would save Anna's life? It was not a kiss from the handsome man that is usually the case. No, it was Anna saving her sister's life...and then turning around and punching Hans in the face for being the jerk he was! Girl power all the way! It is easily one of my favorites now. Right up there with How to Train Your Dragon (which by the way is an awesome movie, in case you haven't watched it). I've never been able to sew. But, last night I made the decision that dammit I was going to fix the hem in one of my pairs of pants. So, I dusted off my sewing kit, locked myself in the bedroom (so I could curse as needed), and I hemmed those pants. Do you have any idea the achievement I felt at that? I am so proud. Now, if I wear them to work and they promptly fall apart, you'll probably hear me cursing all the way in China, but for now, I'm going to revel in the fact that I did it. By hand, no less! A co-worker made handmade chocolate dipped strawberries and brought them to work last week. They were so good. I asked her how to do it, she told me, and yesterday I made my own chocolate dipped strawberries. They were beautiful and they tasted fantastic (even my kids ate them, so that tells you something). Now, I have one more goodie in my repertoire of desserts that I like to make for special occasions or parties. Also yesterday, I helped hubby clean our pool in preparation for getting it ready for pool season. We had been draining it all week because it was a nasty green that we could not clean with any amount of chemicals. We battle this every year because of 2 damn trees that grow over our decking and in about 2 days in the fall they dump every single leaf in the pool and it is impossible to get them out fast enough. Side note: Our pool was custom designed, so we haven't been able to get a cover that fits it yet. That is our next mission, for sure, because I do NOT want to have to do what we did yesterday ever again! Once it was drained, we both got in there with acid wash and scrubbed. And scrubbed. And scrubbed. And scrubbed some more. Now, in past years I always left this task to hubby alone. But I was determined to do my fair share this time, so we were both in there and holy cow did we get it done! And it started filling last night and is almost done this morning. We are on our way to having our beautiful backyard again, and I played a very large part in it. So, for that, I am feeling very proud. These things may sound simple and small to you. For most people they are. But for me, these are huge (yet baby) steps in my recovery. I am becoming far more engaged in my life. My family is noticing it, and I can feel the happiness slowly creeping into my heart. It's such a lovely feeling. :) A friend said something very simple to me today – “We are all at different stages of being screwed up.” This struck me to the very core because it is the truest of true statements. I don’t think there is a soul on Earth that doesn’t struggle with something. Whether they are open about it or hide it from the world, it is there. Some demons are bigger than others. Some people battle more than one. But we are all in some stage of being “screwed up”. Sometimes I can take comfort in this fact. It’s always nice to know that you’re not alone, especially when you are scared,sad, or experiencing some other unpleasant emotion. That is one reason why I decided to go public with my struggles. Not only to help others by sharing my story, but to help myself, too. Hiding my depression/anxiety and pretending it wasn’t a problem was not getting me in a better place. If anything, it was pulling me into an even deeper spiral because nobody knew how desperately I needed help. I starved myself for months in an effort to become happier with my outer appearance because I thought if I felt pretty, I’d be happy. I firmly believed that I was ugly, and losing “just 5 pounds” would make me pretty. I would lose those 5 pounds and then want to lose 5 more because I still wasn’t pretty. And then 5 more, and on and on…that turns into a vicious cycle really fast. I thought I was in control, when really I was completely out of control. When those around me tried to tell me that, my answer was to shut them out. Unfortunately, my mind still wants to go there, and I have to work hard to fight against it. During this spiral last year, combined with various other factors, I eventually landed in a spot where death was literally staring me in the face. I was sitting in the bathroom floor, thinking that I had lost everything and had nothing left, and I had a choice to make. And I made it. That night was the moment that I finally let my family know how bad it really was. They had seen the outward changes, but nobody knew what was going on inside. I feel badly now at the scare I gave them, of the pain I caused them, when they discovered the truth of what was going on inside my head and where my illness had led me.
I won't pretend that being more open about things has made every day since full of sunshine, roses, and unicorns with tiaras (this would certainly be a fantastic day in L’s world, though ;)). I still have my fair share of bad days. But, in the past, when one of those bad days struck, I would shut down and shut everyone out. There was no talking to me, no joking me out of my mood, nothing. Sometimes I still react this way, but those times are becoming less. Now I am more inclined to do this. Write. Sometimes I post what I write here. Sometimes I just write for myself. It’s an outlet that I’ve finally found…an outlet I am profoundly blessed to have discovered. Writing alone, though, is not the only thing I need. It feeds my soul in many ways, but something else that feeds me even more is prayer. I have to remind myself daily, sometimes even hourly, that I am not in this alone, and if I will let him, God will take my burdens and lighten my load. So many people shrug this off, for a plethora of reasons. Either they don’t believe in God at all, or they’re on the fence about believing, or they are believers, but simply don’t think prayer does all that much. All I can say is that I have been touched by the Holy Spirit in response to my prayers. I have felt Him working, and I know for certain that I am not, nor will I ever be, alone. You know what that gives me? Hope. It gives me the hope that I need to push through the dark days when they hit. Hope. It’s such a small and simple word, but it’s impact is huge. So, I have gone public with my struggles to help give a voice to this illness, I have found a way of expressing my feelings through writing, and I have renewed my relationship with and faith in God. Does all of this mean that I am cured? No. Absolutely not. I still have to take medicine. I should be in talk therapy, and regrettably am unable to do so at this point in time. I still get mad, sad, despondent, overwhelmed, scared, you name it. And I worry. Because I know that everyone is in some stage of “screwed up”, I worry for my girls. I don’t want to be the cause for their demons. I don’t want them to look back on their childhood and wish for different memories. It is because of them and my husband that I continue to take the medicine, even though I hate the side effects. It is because I came so close to losing all of them that I try harder than ever before to push the darkness out of my mind, and when I can't do it alone, ask for help in doing it. And it is because of them, that I have hope for a beautiful future. After careful consideration over the last few weeks, I made the very difficult decision today to stop seeing my therapist. My decision had nothing to do with her, as I have loved her from my first session. But my work schedule has become so erratic that I have had to cancel most of my recent appointments and I didn’t feel it was fair to her to keep scheduling and then canceling. To be honest, I am very upset and even angry that I am in this position because of my job. My family needs the financial security my job provides, yet I need mental stability. How do you balance two needs that often conflict, yet are extremely necessary in your life? I don’t know. And I don’t know how I’m going to fare without having an outlet like talk therapy. There is a freedom in being able to say what is on your mind to a person that knows no one in your life personally. I feel it is critical to my mental health and I am scared of a future without it. Actually, I am scared of the future for many reasons. October 2013 was a life changing month for me. I have done extensive soul searching, praying, and thinking since then and I have changed a lot during this time. I have realized many things. The number one item being I don’t like my current career. I have no interest in it, no passion for it, and lately I have felt like it is literally sucking the life right out of me. If I am going to spend 40+ hours doing something for a paycheck, I want – and should – enjoy it. I used to, but not anymore. I used to feel a certain pride in what I do, and I suppose in a way I still do, but things are very different on many levels now. I’ve realized I want to do something that helps others. I want to tell my story and reach out to others in need and help them. I want to write. I want to bring awareness to the world about this often silent disease called depression. A disease that steals people's joy, their peace, and many times, their lives. Finally realizing my true passion means I need to make a serious decision about a career change. In some areas, change scares me. I can go with the flow in many circumstances, but not when my livelihood is at stake. The few times I’ve had to change jobs, I was a mess of nerves and anxiety and no sleep. Yet, I feel so strongly about my new found desire to do something that actually helps people, that I’m ready to face this fear, challenge it, and defeat it. I have decided to start taking the necessary steps to begin the next chapter in my life, and I am going to succeed. I know this because I have an incredible support system that will help me stay focused and encouraged until I reach my goal.
Another realization is that my need for approval and acceptance from others has greatly lessened. To some extent, yes, I still look for it. But, I am not a doormat anymore. To some people, to my very closest circle of family and friends, I have never been a doormat. But to those outside that circle, I've been easily bullied. And because of my people pleasing nature, I've taken it. I usually didn't stand up for myself. Never spoke up and challenged those that steamrolled right over me. But not anymore. I’ve become self-protective, and dare I say it, vocal. I will not tolerate being pushed around and talked to as though I’m a 5 year old that needs to be guided. Along that same theme, I’m also no longer afraid to voice my opinion, regardless of what others might think of it. I used to be one of those personalities that could be swayed back and forth depending on the person talking. I never could take a position and stick with it. Not so much anymore, though. I have opinions, and people can like them or hate them, but I’m not changing them. I believe in God, and I believe He should not be taken out of our schools, removed from our currency, or taken out of the Pledge of Allegiance. I believe if you are going to move to this country and establish a life here, then you must learn English. It pisses me off to have to press 1 for English when I call a U.S. based company, and to search my cake mix box for the English instructions. I believe the Government is slowly encroaching more and more in areas of my life that it has no business being in. I believe in teaching children that there are going to be winners and losers in a competition, and there is a gracious way to be both. They need to learn that disappointment is a part of life. I believe in the right to own a gun. I’m even beginning to enjoy learning to shoot. I believe that society has become so scared of offending this group or that group, that we are slowly destroying ourselves. So - I will say Merry Christmas to you, not Happy Holidays. I will call it a Halloween party, and not a "Fall Festival". I have also had a few triumphs these past few days. I applied a temporary tattoo to L's arm and was able to get the entire piece transferred to her skin. This is huge (I usually screw them up) and to prove that fact, L told me, "You did a GREAT job this time, Mommy!!". High praise indeed! I tried a recipe from Pinterest and actually achieved the desired result, watching 3 of the 4 members of my family eat it up. I have resisted my morning Dr. Pepper Sonic run the past 5 mornings, and even kept my grumpiness about it to a minimum. And last, but not least, I have stayed on top of the birthday party RSVPs received the last week for L. We missed two not too long ago because the invites were misplaced and I could not RSVP. That is a very hard concept to convey to a 5 year old. So, tonight I am going to bed happy over my small triumphs and happy that I am learning who the new me is. She still has a long way to go, but I'm beginning to think I could end up liking her. |
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