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.