Getting back up...is the hardest thing to do!

Here is where I tell you this post has some significant language issues.  If you are in anyway offended by F* bombs and/or any other sort of swearing..this is where I tell you to click the X at the top of the screen and leave this post.  Because there will be a few colorful words not suitable for those who are offended by colorful language.  That being said, for those who've been around long, know me well, or have read my Blog Page on FB...you know this is for me more than it is for you.

You've been warned. I hope you continue to read. I hope you are able to get something from whatever will be spilled from the tattered brain dump that is about to happen. I blog for me.  It is cathartic.  And right now I'm in need of some intensive therapy.  My therapist doesn't think so from what I can understand.  She isn't fully aware of the darkness that has transcended.

Here goes it.....

Even with all of my experience with depression and anxiety, I was fortunate enough to be without suicidal thoughts until I wasn't.  It has been about 6-7 years that the war has raged on.  Rage is the understatement of the day.

I battle with severe depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation on a very regular basis.  If you've read this blog at all you will have figured that out.  I don't always write about the good days.  I'm tired of battling this mother-fucker.  Sometimes depression battles me.  Gives me a sucker punch to the gut and while I'm gasping for air, it twists my arm around my back and kicks my ass face first to the floor.  The floor is a nice place to be when you are depressed. 

Getting up from the floor is often the hardest thing I do everyday.  I've been sucker punched more and more over the last year or so than ever before.  It's getting old.  

Usually when I'm depressed, I am able to go to work.  I am able to parent in a half-assed sort of way.  I'm not very good company, ask my husband.  This has cost me friendships over and over.  When you are constantly face planted in the middle of the floor you are not a very good friend.  You are not a very good wife.  You are not a very good mom.

I try hard every.single.day to find one thing.  I try hard every.single.day. to find something else to be grateful for.  Depression is a fucking bitch.  She's a lying whore who needs to have her ass handed to her.  She tells me that I can't get back up.  Heaven have mercy, I know I can.  I do.  I have to do whatever it is, that one thing at at time...to get my ass back up off this floor.  My face is currently planted on the floor.  If you think to yourself that the only manageable things is harming yourself, you are not alone.  Shit you are not alone.  

I know what it is like to lay on my bathroom floor in a heaping pile of tears.  Thinking the only way out is to line every mother-fucking bottle of pills in that cabinet up.  And one by one take them.  That isn't you thinking.  That isn't me thinking.  That is the bitch depression lying to you.  To me.  

The grip of this illness is suffocating.  It is so freaking suffocating. I am suffocating.  It has grabbed me by the horns and sucker punched my ass right down on to the hardwood floors.

Not to long ago I came across this article.

I'm going to end this post with an excerpt from this link.  About the weather.  About depression.  About the similar lives they live.

Excerpt from:  Letters of Note: It will be sunny one day

"Here are some obvious things about the weather:
It's real.
You can't change it by wishing it away. 
If it's dark and rainy it really is dark and rainy and you can't alter it. 
It might be dark and rainy for two weeks in a row.
BUT
It will be sunny one day.
It isn't under one's control as to when the sun comes out, but come out it will. 
One day.

It really is the same with one's moods, I think. The wrong approach is to believe that they are illusions. They are real. Depression, anxiety, listlessness -- these are as real as the weather -- AND EQUALLY NOT UNDER ONE'S CONTROL. Not one's fault.

BUT

They will pass: they really will."

Technical Difficulties

The picture in this post describes where my head/brain is really at.

Heaviness that is encompassing my entire existence. There have been low spots over the last few months.  Many to be exact.  However,  the last few days have really taken its toll. My family is suffering. Regardless if how hard I try to keep it from them.  My pain tolerance is diminished.  The tolerance for anything is gone.

Getting up is hard to do.
Not giving up is hard to do.

The Lights Went Out...

The lights have been flickering on and off for quite sometime. I've managed to keep them on for a few weeks.  Pull myself up and keep them from flickering off more than they were previously.

It's been a very fine line the last few weeks.  This morning I woke up with an impending doom.  One that I knew wasn't going to be easy to fight off.  I went to work, a therapy appt, and then back to work.

Overall I had a rather nice holiday.  Being home to much isn't very healthy for me.  And most certainly being home to many days...aka: stranded due to weather in the same house w/my dh....can be a recipe for disaster.  But...I DID IT.  And other than a few minor ppfffts here and there...my head remained above water, positive, and do what I can to make the best of a situation that I had no control over.  I mean...really I can't control when Mother Nature decides to dump 19 inches of snow in my back yard.

I was able to keep my focus and head in a positive light until after all my family and friends left Christmas night.  I went to bed with a heavy heart.  One that aches for my husband to acknowledge my existance.  Today J mentioned "he must care if he did xyz...".  I don't see what he did/said as caring. It was more of a show of "I (dh) do everything...she can't do anything".  I seen it as a act on his part to make me look bad.  Which he often tries hard to do.  I see it. My family sees it. My dad. My mom. My friends.  

When bringing it up today with J, I prefaced it on the grounds of I just needed her to listen and here me out w/o judgement. I don't need to be told what I"m doing wrong in my marriage.  Fuck if I dont' know it.  And for a few moments she did listen w/o judgement.

I get that I"m there for me. I get that he's not there in that appt. I get that she can't change him. I get that it is her job to help me change me and my perceptions/reactions and blah blah blah.

A month or so ago I believe I bloggd about the Charlie Brown Teacher's voice.  I also wrote about how my massage therapists interpretations of my 'charlie brown's teacher voice....' was me.  Me doing it to me.  

Regardless...that voice is back.
It is louder than ever.
I know I continue to go back week after week for my appts.

I've btdt and have the emotional baggage and scars to show for what it got me. I don't for a moment believe that I'm thinking on the all or nothing/black or white spectrum.  Regardless of how I come at my husband and regardless of what tone, empthatic bullshit or whatever I do....he's not going to open up to me. His walls will go up. They already have. He will shut me out. He will make it be MY fault. MY problem. He already has.  Regardless...at the end of the day...it is me who bears the weight and pain.  And it is me in the end who will loose regardless. I'm fighting a battle I can't win. I either conform to be "nice and empathic' towards him as J pointed out in my therapy appt or I loose in the end and it becomes about me and my anger.

Fuck the trauma aspect that gets brought into the picture. I'm sick of it always being about me.

And no couples therapy isn't something I'm willing to do at this point. He's the master of saying what therapist want to here and it comes back to bite us/me in the ass in the end. I know from experience. I sat threw months and months of it.  Only to be the one who ended up in the hospital with an eating disorder.  

SO fucking glad I took a vacation day so we could spend the weekend together. To do something no matter how small or insignficant...just to spend some time together. For our anniversary.  Instead, I've come home from work to a cold shoulder. To having him say 4 words to me all night. Thus why I've stayed in bed since after we ate dinner.  And I have no plans on getting out of bed.  I have a massage in the morning and I plan on coming right back to the very place that I am laying in at the moment.

The lights have definately went out.  There's no flickering. 

Merry Christmas

I hope and pray each of you had a very safe holiday season.  It is my prayer that as the New Year approaches we can each have a safe and prosperous 2013.

This last year hasn't been the kindest on this body of mine.  It is what is and we move forward.

I leave you this Christmas Evening with a glimpse at our Tree top.   Every year we do a different color.  This year the theme was red.  I voted for purple..like we had last year.  However, the boy got his wish.  Because... folks at the end of the day it is about the kids.  And I believe strongly in letting my children decorate and choose what is on our tree.

~System Reset~

As I slowly climb my way out of the dark hole that I've been, in the world continues to move on.   Deep depression and suicidal ideation has slowly faded. It's there.  I am not convinced it will ever go away.  There are days when I wonder what it would be like to not always be wondering when the next bout will come creeping/crashing back in.

For today I didn't think about when the lights would go back out.  I got up at the @ss crack of dawn and drove 80 miles on country roads for me daughter to do a 'presentation' of socks to the county foster care unit where my mother works.  After a 5 minute presentation and talk, we got back in the car and drove 80 miles back home.  I took a vacation day today. Scheduled a massage and had physical therapy.

I walked around a mini-mall that is in an upscale neighborhood. I never go there. I enjoyed looking at each of the large gingerbread houses. And then I walked outside into a flurry of large white fluffy stuff.  The first we've really had at this point.

I had an appt for a massage at noon.  I've blogged before about "The Healing effects of Massage Mind".  For the first time in months....this article explains exactly where I spent 90 minutes of my day.  The worry about when the lights would flicker on/off.

All of it....gone.
The non-stop chatter.
The snarkiness.
The anger.
The frustrations.
The self-doubt.
The endless worry.

GONE.  Not for part of my massage. Not for half of it.  For 99% of the 90 minutes that I laid on that table....it was all gone.  

H* described it so well when I stepped into her office after collecting my thoughts.  "You needed that system reset." 

And that is the same thought as I sat in the rocker putting my socks on.  I needed this reset.  There was no deep tissue work.  There was no deep myfacia release.  There was no pain (well...not really I have a few trigger points on my hip/sciatic that are painful).    I

We all need a System Reset from time to time. It was what I needed today.

When the Unthinkable Becomes Your Reality

Yesterdays events in CT have torn me from one side to the other.  I sat at work in near comatose trance as I thought about "the parents of the gunman".  Thinking to myself that "this Unthinkable act of terror could easily be my reality".

I've started and deleted more blog posts in the last 24 hours than I ever have.  The thoughts, words, and feelings that are racing from one side to the other of my brain are not printable. They are stuck in a world of pain, hurt, grief, and so much more.  I can't get those words out. I've not slept. I tossed and turned. I would fall asleep only to wake in terror that 'this was my reality coming true'.  PTSD sux.  Heaven have mercy does it ever.

So I leave you with 3 separate posts that speak the words that I am unable to speak.

They are real.
They are raw.
They are hard to read.

I know 2 of the 3 of these ladies personally.

Please take the time to read them. Visit their blogs and share with them your love and support.

Soul Cancer/The Hearts and Hands behind the Guns (L* is fellow trauma momma. I love and respect her so incredible much.

When Reality Goes Beyond the Imaginable  (Kristine is a dear sweet friend. I wish we lived closer. I wish we could sit..her with her wine...me with my Diet Cherry Pepsi, wipe away our tears and love in each other like we both so desperately need.  I will get to do that with her in March.  March will not come soon enough)

Thinking the Unthinkable (this is a new blog to me.  Mommy Needs Therapy or a Bottle of Wine shared this link with me.)

You are Not Alone

We all have those people whom we need to refill our cup.  To give us that boost when we need it most.

Words could never describe how very therapeutic is to be surrounded by loved ones..dear friends who know your deepest secrets and heartaches.  Who you can let your guard down and know it is OK. 

These moms get me on all levels.  The good and bad.  I get them, accept them, and am able to just be while in their presence.

It is nearing midnight.   We are on a 5 hour road trip south to pick up another dear friend of ours.  Fellow trauma momma...and her dd.

We will turn back around and drive back to my BFF's house.. 5 hours.  And then on to our house another 5 hrs late morning or early evening.

This is the best medicine around.  Better than any antidepressants could ever do for me.

Few weeks ago Jodi told me she wanted me to do something for me.  It didn't have to be big and bold.  Having this tine with S..might seem to some as big and bold.   It isn't.  I need it!

This road trip we have laughed till we cried while I realized something that makes me want to cry.  (My baby is growing up)  We have ate crap food.  I spilled an entire box of Mike n Ike's on the floor.

And I am reminded tonight...

I Am Not Alone!

Answered Prayers

Sometimes life throws curveballs we don't expect nor believe we can handle.

Fourteen years ago a beautiful blonde haired, blue eyed, curly head little 4 yr boy came into our lives.   He not only won over our hearts... by no true fault of his own...he broke our hearts immensely.  The grief, guilt,  and fear that followed had been at times more than I could handle.

For a few years his name was not mentioned in out home.  We didn't discuss anything.  And my grief and anger continued to boil within.

My heart has broken into a million pieces over and over.  As gained information about him.  I created a FB account in hopes of keeping tabs on him....fear he would know more about where we lived than we were  comfortable with him knowing.   I've kept in contact with his FM.  Out of fear he would move to the larger city where we live and I work it has been good go know where he has been. 

Sadly due to turn of events this week he was unable go keep himself and those around him safe.  There is good in that. I made a few anonymous phone calls this morning.   I want to believe they were a help in the judge sending him to the State Psych Hospital.   He was there almost 10 yrs ago to the day.  It is the ONLY place that we were able to get him help. 

I can hope and pray he gets the help he soooo desperately needs!

And I will sleep better knowing he is not going to show up at my door.  And most importantly he can get some help.

Change Starts with Believing in Yourself

This post has been a work in progress for the last week. I've deleted it each time I've sat down to write.  I've had a really hard time gathering my thoughts and moving my fingers in order to get it out on here.  Here it is. 

 I've mentioned on my I Will Get Up Again FB page that I have seen my massage therapist at the college she is attending to further her education.  These appointments were for Intuitive Support.  When I decided to make an appointment and give this a try, I did it thinking it would be a good mix with what I'm already doing between seeing H* for massages and J* for regular therapy.

I don't think this is something I would have considered if I didn't already have a relationship with H*.  It's been a good mix.  Last night I had my second appointment.  It was tough. Just like therapy with J* can be/is tough. There wasn't anything that I didn't already know or haven't heard a million times before.  It was just an added support that "In order for change to happen...I need to begin by believing in myself."

Changing those core beliefs is something that isn't easy. I know that. I've been in therapy long enough, been to enough mindfulness and DBT sessions to know that in order for change to even begin to happen....I need to begin by believing in myself. I know this. Quite honestly...I believe every single person KNOWS this.  Do we really BELIEVE it?  That is the question.

The last several weeks have been fueled by deep depression and sucidal ideation.  To the point where I've questioned how much longer I could keep myself safe.  Struggling with self harm to an entirely new level.

Last night I mentioned to H* (massage therapist) I have been hearing that "Charlie Brown's teacher...the 'whaaa whaaa whaaa voice' over and over.  We discussed that some of what she told me on Monday sounded the same way, some of what Jodi and I discussed on Monday was the same thing.  And then last night it was there again."  She paused for a few moments and thought about it.  Responded with "**, what you are hearing that 'whaa whaa whaa voice' is not me. It is not Jodi. It is your own voice telling yourself...wha wha wha!!"  Initially, I didn't agree with her.  Then, this morning as I laid in bed doing not a DARN thing but ENJOYING the peacefulness of being home alone....I began to think more in depth about my appts with Jodi and H* this week.  Slowly, the light flickered on a bit brighter.  "You need to believe in yourself in order for change to begin to happen.  The Charlie Brown voice....it is you...the sound of YOUR own voice."

Much of what is underneath all of the tough stuff...comes down to some of the tougher core beliefs that I have about myself.  The belief that I can't change.  That this is as good as it gets.  Regardless of what positive shifts and attempts I make in my life, marriage, parenting and so forth....holy shit this is hard....I've been stuck on THIS part for over an hour.  Being able to type it out...to SEE it...it's painful.  Damn is it ever painful. Here it is:

"I don't believe that I am worthy of the change, no matter what I do I will not be good enough and....ultimately I am not worthy of the positive and wonderful things that can come about in my life....by believing in myself. No matter how many times my family, my friends, my therapist, or anyone tells me...I don't believe it."

There.I.said.it.  It was probably one of the hardest things for me to type, read, erase, and re-write and leave....

It is the first step to moving past the core beliefs that are incredibly strong.

Tomorrow afternoon I will interview for a job transfer.  This position was open to the public.  I'm not certain exactly how many applications and how many of those applicants took the accounting test.  I have been told that the average 'open to the public' application amount has been 250-300 per position.  Usually 100-150 are offered the ability to take the test required to obtain an interview.  Based on the test score there were approx 10-15 people offered interviews.  I am struggling with keeping this interview.  Trying to find reasons why this position would not be best for me.

I keep hearing the words that have stung for so long.  Cementing the core belief that I am not worthy, that I am not good enough, that no matter what I do...it won't be enough.

The last few weeks I've had several different occasions that have cemented the belief that I will not be good enough.  The voices have been loud and very clear.  Regardless of what I do...it will never be good enough.

Yet, I have continued to fight the tough stuff.  I applied for the position.  I took the test and did not leave...EVEN though it took every ounce of my energy to not get up and leave.   And I will, against all the internal conflict, go to the interview tomorrow.

This is just some of the tough stuff rocking the boat!  The marriage piece adds an entirely new level.  The medication issue adds another level.  The boat tips further and further to one side and eventually it gives in.  I've been at that spot more than once.  I'm trying hard to keep from going there again.

Cry for Help? Maybe. Maybe, not.

This evening after a long day of appts (5 different appts folks...3 of the 5 were shoulder related, an appt with my therapist and a massage....thank heaven for wonderful massage therapists!!!)

When I got in my car and ready to head home I saw I had several private messages from our sons foster mom.  He turned 18 and has been on his own since he got out of jail a few months ago.  I keep tabs on him ever so often via FB. Sometimes more than others.

I've not heard from the FM for a while. I had just came out of my last appt...a therapy appt with J*.  And I couldn't really decide if I should respond back or not.  My gut told me I should.  And so I did.  And one thing led to another in a 2 minute conversation and I gave her my cell to call me since I was going to be driving and couldn't be texting and driving.

For the next 50 minutes the range of emotions went from pure rage, heartbreak over and over, anger, and over and over.

Our mental health system is broken.  It is broken in a really bad way.  Our police departments are not equiped to deal with people who are ill.  This young man is more than ill.  He's not received transition services and is on his own.  In a world that is cruel.  Doctors are cruel.

He needs help.
He doesn't have the mental or emotional capacity to ask for help.
Beacuse he is now 18 and his OWN guardian he can refuse help.

Today because of his mental illness he broke cour orders to and showed up at FM's house (they have phone contact and she sets up meetings with him in public only bc he's hurt her before).  When reminded he needed to leave he insisted that 'he was worried she was in jail or the hospital or something because she hadn't returned or taken his calls.  He WANTED help."  She called 911. And the small town police department, who are tired of hearing about/from him arrived.  He resisted arrest bc he broke court orders not to be there.  He was then tazed.  NOT ONCE...but TWICE.  He's asking for help. On more than one occasion in the last few weeks.  He's just not been able to 'ask' in the right ways. I believe strongly his emotional disabilities are getting in the way.

My heart aches for him. I've tried hard to distance myself. To protect myself and children.  Yet, this kid whom once called me mommy...whom...I was his mommy....he's hurting. He needs help. And doesn't have the ability to advocate for himself.  It is all so wrong.  So very wrong.  The system has failed this kid from the very day his birth mom abandoned him when he was 6 months old at her parents home.

It rips my heart apart.  I want to help him so incredible bad.  And I can't.  For my own mental health and safety.  And the safety of my children.

I came home and talked to my husband about my conversation with FM.  He seemed so incredible distant.  Concrete.  And just plain made it clear that 'he really doesn't care'.  I want to scream "how can you not care?"  I know. I know. He didn't say that. That is what I think and feel...that he doesn't care.

All I've ever wanted for this kid was for him to get the help he needed....for 14 yrs that has been my prayer.  I'm obviously praying for the wrong thing or not doing it faithfully enough...or something.

Gentle Reminders

Sitting in my car with music blaring is rather therapeutic.   It isn't considered the best option at times when I'm in the darkest of moments.   However, it is sometimes the best option.

I will often be early to appts and in turn sit in my car, PINK's F*cking Perfect,  Adele's 21 CD or Train (my new love) blaring.   It drowns out the background noise tht sometimes is to loud.

The last week I've spent many hours sitting in my car...trying to tune out the background noise. 

This afternoon my 10 yr old looked out into the garage and decided to come sit with me.

I was honest and told him (within his realm of knowledge)  why I was sitting in the car.

He responded "hey...it beats yelling at me or *.  And you aren't in bed"

Yes sweet boy....I hear you.   I'm soooo cotton picking sorry!!!

Doesn't Get Easier

I've stared at this screen for well over an hour.  Trying to come up with the words to what I'm thinking and feeling right now.

About a month ago I wrote this post "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly....Meds Suck".  Meds can certainly suck. 

My appt with my psychiatrist was rather gut wrenching.  Again. It doesn't get any easier hearing the same things that she has told me many times over.  In fact, it gets harder.  And being able to feel my doctors frustration with where things are at made it even harder.  

When I walked threw the doors of my house this evening and my children were arguing like children do...I was reminded why I walked threw that door again.  

And then the tears fell even harder.

And they've not stopped.

I wish I had the answers.

I wish this wasn't so freaking hard.

I wish that the power of positive thinking would be the magic cure.

I wish this would be so much different than it is.

I wish there were answers. 

It doesn't get easier to get back up...
It gets increasingly harder...each time I hear the words out of Dr. K*'s mouth.

Getting back up...doesn't get easier.

My kids

*Whirlwind of swirling thoughts tonight.   Reminder this may make no sense but to me.  I type this as I'm laying in bed.  Attempting to fall asleep.  Which isn't happening.

My kids...
They are what keep me going.
I was once told by social worker and pdoc when I was on the hospital that was to much of a burden to put on them.

I've successfully ran several people away over the last few months. I often believe the same will happen  with my children as they get older.

I sat in a therapy appt thinking how the one thing that has kept me going will be gone.  Like that.

And there will be no reason to get back up. 

I'm in a pretty rough spot.  I've not hidden that fact. Tonight is no different. I had kept myself going for the most part today.   Not caved to the intrusive and impulsive thoughts.  Went into a therapy appt with high expectations of myself to be able touch upon some of the really rough stuff.  To be able to at least put out on the table a small portion of the swirling and tough stuff.

Instead the appt went complete opposite direction.  Sour.  I'm trying to make sense of it. I show up time and time again to my therapy appts in hopes of taking something...even if it is small speck of dust, even when I don't agree with her, even when what she says isn't something I like or want to hear...I take these things with hope there will be something that sticks out.   Something that for a moment or two or five hundred takes the edge off.  And almost every single time it happens.  I drive away and the light bulb flickers or there is a small bit of hope that maybe I can do this.  Tonight...it didn't happen.  Opposite filled my thoughts and actions as I drove home.

Yes I'm angry. Angry at everyone. Most of all myself.

It is late. My dh unaware of the internal fire storm that is burning my heart and spirit.  And I continue to hold on, barely.   The shower drowns out the tears.  Numbs everything else until there is no more hot water.  Three shower/bathes in three hours.  Still no relief. 

Screw gratitude.  Screw DBT. Screw mindfulness.   Screw it all. I've done it all. I've pulled those tools out. And the mumbled words on a page.  I'm not thankful right now.  If being a mother was something I was.good at then C wouldn't be alone.  Then A wouldn't be writing in her school journal abt C and how I could be more forgiving. And bc he is sick is why he did/does what he does.  Screw that.  I'm the one that is judgemental.  What kind of mom reads their kids posts on FB knowing they are clearly a cry for help and she turns her head the other way in fear?  Me.  That is who.

Replay my conversion with Jodi till I'm blue in the face.  One thing that continues to replay loud is "you are here. You've done something tht is working. And own it."  Whatever. Own what?  That I didnt cave to self harm shit?  Which is bs bc its there. Just not visable. I could generally counter that back with my previous comments tht 'there is generally something I take away...even when I/She would least expect it.  I was listening.  There was not a damn thing tonight.  What I took away was what I already believed in myself.   And I know that was not what she said or intended to get across.  Regardless ...it is my truth.  And I'm sure it is true.

In the end.
I'm not okay.
I don't know what I need.
I don't know what I want.

What I want so desperately...is not going to happen.

*I don't write this for advise,  concern, or anything other than myself.

~There' s no title for this~

Here is a little scenario that played out last night.  I've tried to write about it in a way that makes sense and it isn't happening.  Bare with me here folks.  If you get to the end of this...bless your heart.  There is a point that I'm trying to get across.  A positive one (kind of) and one that needs to be followed....if you get to the end.

We were gone all day yesterday at my Aunt's house for our Family Thanksgiving.  We left early yesterday morning because I had a chiro appt for my shoulder.  I fell on Thursday in my parents hot tub and did a number on my shoulder.  (Really...I did.  It wasn't pretty.) My appt with Dr. M yesterday morning was a bit tortuous.  I was already in a mood that was to be reckoned with.  

While at my Aunt's house yesterday we were informed that our Family Christmas was going to be held one week earlier than usual.  There was no warning.  Just "this is when we are having it".  The Aunt who is in charge of it this year took it upon herself to 'change it'.  And generally this wouldn't be an issue.  I'm not working weekends right now and won't be for several months.  I had been told by my mom it was possible going to be changed to the Saturday before Christmas. I wasn't very happy about that.  However, that date would be better for us.  We don't ever go anywhere other than to my parents house or my families.  We rarely ever travel and generally don't make plans to go anywhere.  However, I had an idea brewing in my head.  This particular weekend...the last weekend of the year is our "Anniversary Weekend".  We don't do much if anything.  And my husband has been given the opportunity to have a 3 day construction job that weekend.  So we really didn't have much for plans.  But I had been thinking about plans....plans to head to see my BFF.  I had not talked to my dh and was waiting to run it by my BFF before I talk to dh.  And this was going to be the weekend I thought about going.  

In general I don't get myself worked up or upset about things like this.  My mom's family is pretty large (7 siblings total) and I just go with the flow.  I let them all get all po'd at each other. And I stay out of it.

All the way home I stewed and stewed about this bit of information.  The more I thought about it the more upset it made me.  

We got home and I began to prepare our dinner for today.  Cutting veggies and making rice that would end up in the crock pot this morning before we headed to church. While I was chopping the veggies whirlwind of impulsive self harm thoughts became more and more intrusive.  I've never purposely cut myself.  There have been moments where it has taken every ounce of my ability not to.  Last night was one of those times. 

Instead I called my dh into the kitchen.  His response was to 'not use real onions just put in the onion flakes' and he refused to cut the onions and mushrooms.  I wasn't able to fully tell him why I needed him to help me.  He had a mindset that it was my idea to make this dinner for today and so it was me who needed to do it.

We bantered back and forth. It was more me looking for a fight.  I take full responsibility for it.  If I was bantering with him...I wasn't cutting myself.  And at that moment it seemed to be the lessor of two evils.  One thing led to another. I was an emotional mess...I started spewing shit such as...to bad my head wouldn't fit under then damn food chopper thing.  He responded with "you sound like ___ ____".  And back and forth.  I took his phone off the phone charger and threw at him telling him he needed to call ___ ___ and tell him that."
The bantering went back and forth some more. Mostly me. Him ignoring me. Which just pissed me off even more.

What came out of my mouth next kind of surprised me as I said it.  And I know it took the wind out of my dh's sail.  In a nutshell I told him that "__ __ needed a friend.  One that could understand where he was coming from.  One that wasn't judgmental.  Which is where I'm at. The only person I have that somewhat understands lives 6 hours away.  And maybe if I had someone locally who GOT ME who I could call and talk to or show up at their house for whatever reason...that I could just sit on their couch and watch TV with....maybe things would be different."  He responded with "what the hell am I? Chopped liver?"  To which my response was "listen to yourself...just listen to the double bind you just put yourself in? You are telling ME who has a knife and food chopper in my hand that I sound like __ __ bc of what I just said.  I asked you to help me. Not because I don't want to do it. But because I was putting my own safety at risk. I don't need to tell you every time I want to hurt myself.  Nor will I.  Because of the things YOU just said. Do you REALIZE how often I am in that frame of mind or space? No you don't. Because YOU don't fucking listen to me. You refuse to help and said use processed food. I don't want to do that. I'M TRYING to make healthy meals for our family.  He followed with I didn't tell him and if I would have he would helped me.  At that point he was trying to. But I had a knife in my hand and refused to let him.  He knew to back off.

Our friend he mentioned we know from a distance struggles with depression. My husband has been helping them with some remodel projects over the last year.  He was our best man.  They are not close friends and we have never invited them over for dinner.

I put the knife down and proceeded to call this family.  Without talking to my husband or making sure it was okay with him...I decided to invite them over for dinner.  To take that first step and reach out a hand of love and support.  Whatever it might look like.  

Conversation went something like this...

ME:  Hi S...what are you doing tmw afternoon after church?
S:  Nothing, why?
ME: I think it would be great if  J, J and You came over for dinner. Are you up for that?
S: I don't know. I can ask J.

ME: Well, you are more than welcome to come.
S: Well if J doesn't come can I still come?
ME:  Heck yeah S. You know that. I think our families truly need to spend more time together.

Our conversation went on for about 2-3 more minutes while we discussed dinner/time and such.

I got off the phone.  My dh looked at me stunned as hell.  And said "So the G's care coming for dinner.  When do you plan on cleaning the house?"

I responded I dind't give a flying f* what the house looked like. If they didn't like it that was to bad.  At the end of the day....S deals with a husband who struggles in the very same manner than I do.

This evening S showed up w/her 14 yr old son.  Minus her husband.  She apologized over and over.  He left church early because he was stressed and having some severe anxiety over work situation. I told her "S you have no reason to apologize. I get it. I really do."  When my dh came upstairs she apologized again to him.  Telling him "J was stressed and sleeping."  She's from another country and has some really strict cultural manners.  She felt horrible that we had invited their family and he didn't come.  I made it really clear that "I understood....".  Even telling her that 9 out of 10 times you don't see me in church are for the same reasons. I get it. And she doesn't need to apologize.

Before anyone served their dinner I got a dish for her husband, got desert and rolls ready to send home to him.  When she left I made sure to let her know that he was missed and to please let him know that "we...not just I get it."  My husband said nothing. Not one word.

I'm tired.
I'm mentally and emotionally drained.
This incident took my thoughts/impulses off of myself at that moment to not cut, burn, or whatever it might have been.  Instead, it put the reflection (in my opinion) back on my husband that "WE" are not alone in this fight.  He was able to hear S talk a little bit about her frustration.  Their 14 yr old son was able to hear another mom/parent say "this sucks but it is okay and I'm glad you came even though your father didn't".

And now...

The desire and impulse to hide behind what is easy for me...taking hot shower/bath and burning myself has been strong. THUS why I'm writing this post. And from here I will go to bed. Instead of hiding behind the pretense that I need heat on my shoulder and taking a bath.  I will use a microwaveable rice heating pad. And go to bed.    

Good and Bad

The end of day 3 of being home for the Thanksgiving Holiday.  There have been good moments.   Really good.  There have been bad moments.  Really bad.

Cymbalta at 30 mg is not going as well as it did the first time around.  I've tried taking it every other day over the last couple of days/week.

The days I take it my head throbs.  As in I can't stand myself or anyone else bc I hurt so effn much.  And the days I don't take it my head does not hurt.

My overall mood/mental health is not much better or worse.  Tuesday or so the intense suicidal ideation and self harm crap lessoned a little bit.  There was a moment in my day where I was able to notice 'where I was at mood/mental health wise' and be thankful for the very small lift.  

It was a small break in insanity.   Very small. 

I have regained my energy.   I wish I could say it was healthy and productive.  I've managed to push away more than just the regulars.  And it is in these moments such as today if you showed up at my door with bottle of wine...I would.welcome you in with open arms and help you drink that sucker.

I don't have wine.
I have other not-so-good coping to get myself deeper into this pit.

So yeah..there is some good.  The suicidal shit is not nearly as intense. 

The bad still trumps at this point and I'm fighting still on that damn under ground roller coaster waiting.  Self harm shit strong as ever.  Self care.down the damn drain.

Beautiful

Nothing wrong with reminders!

Homesick

Still in a pretty rough spot.  The weekend has been pretty bland.  I've manage to make my world small.  Very small.  A good friend from work is struggling.  She has had the same injury that I had and has to wait for the adhesions to loosen up a bit before she can have her tear repaired.  The two of us met in town and headed to some theraputic breakfast at D.unkin Donuts. From there we did some retail therapy at K.ohl's.

My daughter and husband have left for the afternoon.  Leaving me with the boy (10) and my girlfriends 2 children who are 9 and 3 yrs old.  The 3 littles are in my sons room playing.  I"m laying on the couch listening to y.outube videos.

This particular song has been played over and over.

And I close my eyes...

And I see your face...

If home where my heart is...
Then I'm out of place...
Lord won't you give me strenght to make it through some how...
I've never been more homesick than now...

And with that I leave you with the actual video that I've listened to over and over!!

~Checking In~

One of my fav pics from local zoo.

I've had several messages asking how I'm doing over the last few days. I appreciate the concern.  Even though...my private responses or lack thereof may not seem like it..I really do appreciate them.  Comments to posts have went unpublished because of personal info of a few different comments. Again, thanks.

Things are about the same.  No better.  Can't say they are not worse.  The last 48-72 hours have been gawd awful. Very few moments of clarity.  I managed to pull myself together enough to work for a few hours yesterday morning.  Even though I was there at work. I did not work. My pain levels were a bit higher than they have been and I took a pain pill as soon as I got to my parking spot and got on the bus.  By the time I got to the office I was about to fall over asleep.  So...I sat listening to movies on my tablet and slept.  I seriously slept more than I was awake while I was at work.  Left work and came home and went to bed.

Today was day four of taking the low dose of c.ymbalta.  It will be the last day if things don't wind down quickly.

~Remember~

Fighting the Darkness

These days.  They are dark.  Daylight savings has kicked my ass.  So much swirling.  I saw my psychiatrist this evening.  It was a much over-do appointment.  Some scheduling snaffu's almost made it so the appointment didn't happen.

It was a huge struggle to put it all out there.  The good, the bad, and the ugly.  There wasn't much good.  There was some really ugly.  As I talked to her and told her some of the really ugly that has transpired over the last 8 weeks since I saw her last...I was overcome with a huge sense of broken-ness!  This is one thought that I've tried very hard to overcome, not believe, and not fall into that trap.  For the most part I'm able to keep it at bay.  I don't often see myself as broken.  However, this evening as I sat in Dr. K's office that is the one thing that seemed to resonate.

It was incredible tough being 110% honest with her.  Making her hear me for where I am at.  Not just that I'm in the ever revolving realm of suicidal ideation. A spot she is very used to seeing me in.  But more of getting across to her the depths of where I've been.  We discussed why I've not called to get in sooner, why I didn't agree to see someone else while she was out of the country, and some other things.  There are some things I can't seem to really bring myself to blog about.  It isn't that there is anything to hide.


Being completely honest and real with Dr. K was one of the toughest things I've done in a long time.  I don't always have full faith/trust in her that she won't decide that this time I won't need to be hospitalized.  I'm not okay.  I know that.  It is taking every ounce of my energy to get up every single day.  I can't even begin to express how incredible tough it is.

Yet, I do it.  I can't tell you why. I'm not even sure that I know why.  This evening has been rough.  After leaving Dr. K's office today I had a bit of optimism.  There was a very small flicker of hope that maybe a re-try with her readily availble should things go ary would be helpful.  I spoke with my BFF on my way home and felt confident that this was a good plan that we came up with.  And then somewhere in the 30 miles between her office and my home....it all went down the toilet.

I've been in this space before.  I've danced this horrible choppy slow dance before.  I know how incredible shit filled it is.  It's getting old.  I wish it was as easy as choosing to be more positive, make different choices, change this or that.  Lord knows, I've done it. I'm doing it. This is where this fight becomes to much some days.  

It's Hot...and I Can't Sleep!

It is another one of those nights.

It is hot in our house.  And I can't sleep.  There are a ton of issues that seem to be piling up.  Some situational.  Some marital.  Some trauma/abuse related.  Some just plain depression/mental illness related.  Some just called life.

My husband and I are not on the same wave length of life.  The more I try to be understanding and see things from both sides of the coin....the more I get pissed off.  I'm not stupid.  I know that there are 2 sides to every story. I know that my own shit carries a huge weight within our marriage.  I also know, that there are many days, weeks, and months he does all he can to upset me.  To get me to react.

And this is the current dance between us.  I don't blog much about our marital issues. I try very hard to keep some things private.  However, right now at this very moment it is what is keeping me awake.  Mixed with some of the other long standing things that I struggle with.  The two things don't seem to mix well.

This evening was no different in the realm of one thing leading to another.  Unfortunately, I resorted to throwing a hissy ass fit. Over nothing really.  And over something that I'm very passionate about.  In the end...at the end of the night...I had done exactly as I have tried so hard not to.  Freak out and throw shit.  It isn't just about the issues of today.  Instead, as one of my previous therapist from years ago used to tell me all the time...."__, you need to stop stuffing that crap over and over.  The lid is going to blow off. When it does...it will not be pretty."  The lid blew tonight.  Kind of.  There really wasn't much of anything said.  Just thrown. From me. Not him. I take full responsibility. I'm not even going go there as to what the icing on the cake was.  It was just a matter of time.  

Several years ago we were involved in couples therapy.  It wasn't really all that helpful.  I guess it was.  But it wasn't.  Each of us would meet w/our individual therapist together as a group.  One of the things my therapist at the time (not the same person I currently see) would discuss often with us was how we would get into a rut what she compared to a Mexican Standoff.  As I thought about how things are this evening.  The last few weeks.  The last month.  We are in that same spot.  A Mexican Standoff...which one is going to give?  I'm not sure.  I know that I'm at the end of my rope.

Little bit of time has been spent discussing some of the current issue in my own individual therapy with Jodi.  I can only work on me. I can't change him. I know that. I've been in therapy long enough, seen enough different therapist, and walked this walk long enough o know that I can only control me....

That doesn't make things any better.  And quite honestly, it pisses me off that I am the only one that seems to think there is an issue.  Regardless of how I try to bring ANY thing up....he shoots back as it being me, myself, and I as the one who sees things differently.

And this is what is keeping me up this evening.  The wee hours of the night.  Feeding into the mindset that so often creeps in...the suicidal/hopeless thought process.  Believing they/my husband and children would be better off with out me.  Believing this on a good day is hard to fight off.  And as I sink deeper....there is no fighting off.  The only difference between me 'medicated and not' right now is that in this state of mind....I had more energy to do self harm and hurt myself.  At the moment there is no energy.  I was working more hours than I should while on C.ymbalta and the week and half after stopping it.  The last week...I've struggled more and more with work.  And getting out of bed in general.

It's not rational. I am fully aware that the above paragraph is 110% irrational. Yet, I don't for a moment believe it.  Depression has grabbed me by the horns. I know it. I feel it. I hear it. I see it.

And it is in these moments that I am attempting to tell myself that yes indeed..."Depression is a Lying Bastard...."  It's not easy.

So many things swirling.  I'm hot and I can't sleep.  And so I continue to attempt to find some sort of normalcy, hope, and belief...something to hold on to.

I'm tired.....emotionally and physically.  Tired of hurting.  Tired of living in constant pain. Every freaking day.  Tired of having a significant other, who also lives in chronic pain...not get it.  Expect much more than I'm physically able to do.  And then be sarcastic/martyr like when I can't do it.  Tired of not being able to take anything for the pain.  And when I do it increases the downward mood spiral or doesn't even begin to help with the pain.  Tired of doing everything possible to break up the a.dhesions/f.rozen s.houlder and have it not even come close to helping.I'm sure it is helping. I just can't see it right now.  And the therapy involved in breaking up the a.dhesions is grueling.  It involved needing to rely on pain medications.  I haven't been.  Up until the last few days.

Please tell me that tomorrow will be better!?!?!?!

Believing in Yourself

Just a little reinforcement for me today...somedays are harder than others to remember this.

*To the Voice in My Head*

Dear Self,

I wish it was as easy as this little purple blurp of a saying says. You know... "I'm not listening to you anymore because you are not nice to me."  If that was the case we would all be so much better off in life.

Right?

It isn't that easy.  That voice has been pretty freeking loud the last few days.  Hell it is always loud.  Somedays it is easier to quiet that voice than others.  It is really loud right now.  At the wee hours of the morning or night, whichever you call it...it seems to be even louder than the rest of the day.  Really loud right now.

**Sinking**

Damn it is a tough fight.  Some days are good.  They are really...REALLY...really good.  And then there are other days where it is all I can do to get out of bed.

Today was one of them.  I'm fighting like hell to not sink into a pit of depression.  It's always there.  Swirling around. Waving the baton or whatever the hell it is in my face.  And many days I'm able to whip the baton back in the face of depression/despair and keep going.

This morning the struggle to get up was harder than I expected.  I sat in the tub while the hot water rolled off me.  Tears welling up.  There was no reason that I could come up with.  Just tears.  Lots of them.  I didn't even get out of bed until the time I normally leave for work.  So I had to get myself moving.

I fought like hell to get myself out of the door and into the car.  Pulling myself together, I left for work 30 minutes late.

I've continued to struggle with sinking into a pit of depression. I just want to lay in bed and not get up. I wanted to take a nap today last night. It wasn't because I was tired last night. It was because I knew last night the struggle/sinking was setting in deeper than it has in a few days.

It's been 2-3 weeks since I quit taking C.ymbalta.  Even though I was in a really rough spot with self harm and suicidal thoughts constantly....it was much different than where I'm at right now.

I don't even know if that makes sense.

I don't discuss the eating disorder/issues that are always present.  Often controllable if I'm able to stay present enough to keep tabs.  In really tough spots similar to what I was in a few weeks ago while I was taking C.ymbalta I stop eating all together.   Generally speaking it is one end of the spectrum or the other.  It is all or nothing.  The self talk, self esteem, and self image crap that comes along with this just adds to the impending depression.

I dont' want to go anywhere.
I don't want to talk to anyone.
I just want to find relief from this whirlwind cycle.

blogger....

...my last post is missing.

Pphhtt!

I'm not redoing it.

Most Days...

...I can put on a bright smile and get through the day.

...but today is not one of those days.

Musings....blogging in circles!

I came home this evening with my thoughts, actions, and everything about me...spinning!   Two appointments back to back left me with my head spinning.  The urge to self medicate and pick away my nails is strong as hell.  I've been able to hold off at this point.  Blogging in bed is a distraction at the moment. 

I know this probably will make no sense what-so-ever.  That is ok.

Today brought with it therapy and appointment with my chiropractor.   Therapy should be somewhat uncomfortable,  right?  It was!  As I drove home thoughts about some of the deeper things in my life that are really tough seemed to swirl in circles.  The heaviness and weight of this particular issue seemed to overtake the physical pain in my shoulder.  Dr. M had just spent 30 min doing more intensive massage work than previously. My appt ended 15 minutes early because I couldn't take it anymore.  The emotional pain and worry seemed to take over as soon as I left his office.

I know this is a bit vague.   Safe to say I'm not very comfortable at the moment discussing/blogging.   As one of the other blogs/mom/friend I follow wrote last week...'I'm making my world small'.  And this is what seems to sink into my thoughts as I swirl in circles about what the future holds on so many levels.
~~~~~~
Logically I know beyond shadow of a doubt that taking cymbalta was not good.  Yet, I find if damn hard to believe it tonight.
~~~~~~
Finding alternative ways to cope and not snap at my husband is not something I want to do at the moment.   I'm not going to think about it.  It isn't the top of my priorities.  I know my children and husband have been/are one of my main values in my life.  I know I shouldn't say some of the things I do to my dh.   But I do.  I take full responsibility for it.  I understand and get fully the reasons behind 'not' being snarky and snappy towards my husband.  In the past I have, in my opinion,  been an active participant in therapy with finding alternate methods of coping.  Today..not so much.
~~~~~~
To say I'm a defiant preschooler is probably correct.  At the same time....the internal dialogue is swirling some pretty deep shit.  And so the entire thought of 'being a defiant preschooler' is much more attractive than the alternative.
~~~~~~
Taking cymbalta was better than this!

Thankful Project Monday

This post is my attempt to keep a MONDAY tradition going.  On my 'other' blogs in the past I've participated in a "Thankful Thursday".  I like to do it on Monday!  

Here is why:
So often Monday is a suck-tastic day.  It isn't a day that any of us look forward to.  The weekend can be lovely and the beginning of the work week can be ever-so-very-hard.
So...here is my on-going attempt to remember the "little things and sometimes the BIG things in life that I am THANKFUL for".

PLEASE....POST A LINK IN THE COMMENTS or ON MY FACEBOOK PAGE (click HERE for FB link) with your Thankful Project Monday Post.

**Thankful for the sleep I was able to get on Saturday night into Sunday morning.  Sleep hasn't come very easy after my shoulder surgery in August.  And the last few days it has increasingly gotten a bit worse because I've had quite a bit of pain this week.  Sunday morning I slept in.  I was awake early.  And I still slept in.  I was able to roll over and fall back asleep...over and and over.  I vaguely heard my phone beep with a private message on FB from my mom to call her.  That was at 9am.  I rolled over and called her.  We cemented plans for my family to go visit her today. My children had a wonderful time with my mom today.  And I'm so thankful they are able to have that relationship.  My daughter-13 is holding a "sock for smiles" sock drive.  My mom has passed the word around her agency.  So my daughter was making thank you cards in the Scrapbooking/Card room (aka: my old bedroom).  My son laid on the floor w/the tablet and watched football with my dad.

**Thankful for an awesome chiropractor who knows me well.  Who has been very helpful working with me in being able to break up the adhesions in my shoulder.  The treatment for frozen shoulder is horrific.  The week has been long.  I'm thankful for the small gains that I've been able to gain in the last week.  Over the weekend my pain was much less.  Which is a direct result of not working.  Today it has kicked in a bit more as I came back to work this morning.

Gonna keep this weeks post a tad short.  Typing is hard to do.  Using my phone is even harder.

WHAT ARE YOU THANKFUL FOR THIS MORNING??

Random Ramblings

•It has been almost a week since I took cymbalta.  The intense and non stop self harm/suicidal shit stopped almost immediate ...within abt 3 days.

•The negative self-talk starter almost immediately after the self harm crap stopped.

•I have has several days...OK..who am I kidding...EVERYDAY I've had a migraine of some sort.

•The deep tissue treatments for my shoulder have made the trauma crap much harder to "stuff" deep down.   It is like the lid to an over full garbage can....unable to contain it.  When it bursts it isn't pretty.

•After a relatively nice day at my mom and dads house...the lid burst and spilled some nasty/vile contents.  I knew it was festering.   I have spent days attempting to keep it on.

And...with that I say....maybe I should have stayed on the meds!

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly...Meds SUCK

**DISCLAIMER:  This post is a representation of MY thoughts, opinions, and experiences.  DO NOT stop taking your medications just because...I or anyone else say they SUCK or anything else that I may/may not say about them in this post...There. I. Said. It.**

I've not really blogged much about the medication change that transpired little over a month ago.  I was hopeful on many levels.  At the end of the 2nd week, I was seeing some positive changes.  Still a tad reluctant of the positive effects...BUT very thankful there were some definite positives.  There were negatives in the realm of side effects.  That is something I'm very accustomed to at this point.  I've seen my current psychiatrist going on 13 years this next spring.  She knows me inside and out.  I've blogged before about our love/hate relationship.  I love her dearly.  I hate the effects medications have had on my body.  I've taken just about every.single.thing out there.  After my gastric bypass, my ability to tolerate medications became much less.  As in MUCH MUCH MUCH less.  And so the battle continues and as I've said over the last several years....got much worse.

THE GOOD:
Medications are prescribed by doctors to assist symptoms, to target abnormal medical findings, assist and prevent illnesses.  These symptoms range in anything from pain, insomnia, hallucinations, coughing, chest pain, cramping, and many more ailments.  The goal of medications is ultimately to relieve symptoms.  At the end of the day, the goal of medications is to get rid of ailments/symptoms and prevent something worse from happening.  In many cases the goal is both....prevent and get rid of.  At any rate, the goal is to normalize ones quality of life/living.

Medications work.  Sometimes.  In some people.  They have the ability to make bad things go away and allow people to live happier, healthier, and more productive lives.

THE BAD:
The bad thing with medications is they have side effects.  Take trazodone for an example.  It is used as antidepressant, but it makes people sleepy.  SO it is used in a sub-therapeutic (for depression) to help with insomnia.  This particular example can be a good side effect.  Most side effects, though, are bad.  They are uncomfortable the person.  They are often the reason patients stop taking their medications.  Side effects are usually uncomfortable.  Rarely are they fatal.  Usually they are reversible.  Most often these effects go away once the medication is stopped.

The interesting thing about side effects is that few of them happen to everyone that takes them.  Take the side effects of SSRI's for example, a ton of people will experience sexual side effects, not everyone will.  Tremors, sexual side effects, weight gain, and sleepiness are often common side effects of SSRI's and other medications used for psychiatric disorders.

I've struggled with nearly every single psychiatric medication that I've been prescribed since my gastric bypass in 2004.  As a patient who struggles with severe depression, a condition that is impeding my life, it is often worth taking the risk of any given side effect.  Usually, I find myself somewhat hopeful the effects may not happen.

THE UGLY:  (and it can be ugly)
Side effects are unpleasant, at best.  Many have rare and really ugly effects.  The rare and ugly effects are actually not side effects..they are considered ADVERSE REACTIONS.  They can be awful, fatal, and in rare cases irreversible.  Tardive Dyskinesia is an adverse reaction, one that takes time to develop.  One that was a listed as a VERY rare side effect of a medication I took about a year ago.  The usual response to the UGLY is to stop the medication ASAP.

Increased depression, self injury, suicidal ideation in my opinion falls under the ugly category.  This medication is prescribed to relieve these very symptoms and then it increases it.  Occasionally, these reactions/effects can lesson after a few days.  In some cases, they continue to get worse and worse.  Until there is no choice to stop the medication immediately.

THE MEDS SUCK:
I'm currently in the VERY UGLY portion of taking a new(er) medication.  The last paragraph describes what life has been in the last few weeks.  Each and every day increasingly getting worse.  The last few days have been hell.  I've been here before.  I've experienced this before.  I spoke with Jodi last night about the effects.  My pdoc is not in the office at the time.  Seeing someone else is not really an option.  And I've been this route enough times to know that I need to stop the medication immediately before I end up in the hospital.  Jodi and I discussed taking it every other day.  The suicidal ideation wasn't as horrific, was manageable, and not constant prior to reaching the full dose. I'm unable to cut the medication in half, therefore, taking it every other day was the option that seemed like the best action to take.  Giving that a try was something that I was willing to give a try.  After today, I don't believe I will be taking it again. At least not until I can see my doctor in a few weeks.

Thankfulness Project Monday

Several months ago I did a "Thankfulness Project Monday" post.  When Musings of a Counselor got a bit busy in her life and stopped doing them...I kinda forgot about it, too.  Even though I didn't write a post each week...I still looked forward to her posts and miss them.

So today I decided to take them back up. I hope and pray that I will be able to keep up with them and post every Monday.  At the end of the day, after we've been in and out of the ick over and over....we still have so very much to be thankful for.  And so with that in mind...here goes it.  No promises.  Just will say that I will give it a try.

• Naturally we all tend to think first how thankful we are for our children and family.  I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt how lucky I am to have the spirits that I do in my life. I know that my Father in Heaven hand picked not only my husband for me, but my children.  Even the one who is no longer technically MY child...he will forever be sealed for time and all eternity to me and he was chosen to be my son...even if he choose not to accept my love for him and the ability to get better.  I am eternally thankful for each my children.  For the foster child that we've had in our home.  For all that each of these children of mine have taught me.  EVEN when it is so very very hard!
• I am so thankful for a loving Heavenly Father. Who knows me. Who hears me. Who knows every single hair on my body.  My aches and pains.  My faith has continues to be weary and weak.  However, there are glimmers here and there.  In my darkest of moments, I know that my Heavenly Father has walked that path right beside me.  Even though, I might not admit it.  
• I am thankful for the ability to have some sort of work and income during my recovery period after my surgery.  Not all of my coworkers with similiar injuries have that option because their cases were denied by the workers compensation company.
• I am thankful for such beauty that surrounds me.  Each day as I drive to work it is apparent the seasons are changing. Ever so fast and it is a tad scary to think about being snowed in this winter.  We were blessed with a mild winter last year.  I don't believe we will be so blessed this year.  We can only hope and pray that we will be.
• I am thankful for the dear friend that I have.  Whom I can call (even though I don't) when I need it most.  To know that she loves me regardless of my flaws.  Regardless of my dreariness.  That I can ask her "What should I do about these meds...." and we can have this conversation about "the crazies" and how freaking hard it is.  I can't even talk about this with my husband on this level.  And so, for that...I'm so thankful.  She's been such a stellar of strength to me and I love her so incredible much.  (Now...dang it all if my shoulder/arm would cooperate I would drive thr 5.5 hrs and 2 states away to go see her...but I just can't make that drive right now. booooo)
• I will be forever thankful for access to medical care.  Without that access I am certain that I would not be writing this post. I would not be sitting in my living room in the wee hours of the middle of the night.  That I have a job that provides me with the best coverage I could ask for.  I'm more than willing to pay double of what I pay...in order to have the coverage I have.  It is truly a blessing that I believe so many people take for granted.

HOW ABOUT YOU?
What are you THANKFUL FOR?
Share your link in the comments OR on I Will Get Up Again and Again's Facebook Page!

Sunday Snapshot

I made it to church today.  I was up, ready, had dinner in the crockpot and ready to leave an hour before I needed to be out the door.

As I went back in my room and sat in my chair for a few moments of quiet....I was reminded of the above song -- "Did you think to pray".  An hour or so later the opening hymn was this very song.  It was Stake Conference and we had all of the Stake Leaders joining us for our meetings.

This very song was brought up on 2 different occasions in both our Bishop's talk and then a talk in Sunday School.

It was my reminder...

That I need to remember to pray.

Specially in times of trials and struggling.

Me and Me Only

This morning started dreary.  Add in the dread of attending a mutual gathering...that my SIL would be attending.   At 10am I was still laying in bed, covers up, tv on and no intention on getting up.  Until the last minute.

My mom called.  Told me I was really just adding more stress by going to the mutual gathering.  I should join her and my aunts and go to another aunts house for a P.hampered Chef party.

I mulled over it.
I talked to my dh.  Who is aware of the state of mind that I am in.  And he said.."Get Up.  GO TO YOUR AUNTS ..."and few other things.

And so I did.

I called another Aunt and my mom.  And we met for lunch.

Taking care of me.  Putting my needs first.  Not doing well still.  But...I am trying!

Meds? Who Knows.

I started new antidepressant abt a month ago.  This morning as I took it....light bulb went off.  There are several triggers and situational things right now playing roll into how I'm feeling.  But the intensity is pretty different.  Few weeks of OK....not to horrific.  And then BAM here I am.  It isn't pretty.  Never is.  However the last 24 hrs have been pretty frippen horrific.  The intensity, frequency, and impulsive self harm shit is overwhelming.  I don't blog that part for any other reason than for my own good.  Not believing it is something I have hell of a lot of control over.  

Insomnia Sux

Definately need this reminder..like all day...everyday~

I don't believe this right now.
It is more than I can even comprehend.
I've been here before.
One would think that "this" would be familiar and I would know what to expect.

This one.
Different.

Trauma sucks.giant.f*cking.donkey.balls.