Sunday, January 27, 2013

Dear Asshole (Part 1)

**I tried to keep this short. For my own sanity. This is a FAIR WARNING there is very likely going to be several explicits. It is what it is. It is where my heart and head is with this.  This is just the beginning of a series of "Dear Asshole" posts.  More will come as I'm able to process.  Each time I've ever started to write something similar to this I've ended in a pretty rough space.  Never got past the first few sentences and ended up in fetal position on my bathroom floor/tub for heaven only knows how long afterwards.

As the title states: Dear Asshole.  He is just that. An asshole.  And so much more.  As mentioned above it is likely these will not be pretty.  

Dear Asshole,
You may have been excited to see this letter from me since we've not had contact in over 30 years.  What pictures and information you have from me you received from your mother.  Good for her for caring.
I didn't want to write this when I was overly angry, emotional, or depressed.  However, those 3 words seem to be part of my every day life. And have been for several months.

This last bought of severe depression was not triggered by the trauma piece you help create. It is very likely it was just part of much more going on.  Each time I get closer to rising above the fog this particular piece begins to boil over. Causing there to be a ripple effect into my everyday life. You destroyed me in more ways than not.

I spent years trying to figure out reasoning's for your actions.  I've spent countless hours talking to other victims. I've spent countless hours reading and trying to sift to the bottom of why abusers abuse.  The more information I have found, the worse I've felt abut the situation.  They say that abusers have the domino effect.  The abuser was once abused.  That's bullshit.  I'm nearly certain that never happened to you.  Next option?  You strive to dominate.  That is exactly what you did.  When you could no longer hurt my mother, you choose to hurt me.  Fuck you!  You rat bastard.

I hope you woke up each day of the last 33 yrs of your life and took a good look at your shit-filled self and were eaten alive by what you did to me.  I hope you never forgave yourself for it.  I always thought I would be thankful for the day you died.  Each day I got closer and closer.  And the day that I got the phone call was the day when the previous 33 yrs of attempting to stuff deep down came boiling over.  Each day, I prayed for closure that you would die.  Instead, rage took over deep w/in my heart.  Rage that you took the easy way out.  Rage that you didn't suffer.  Sure, I'm sure you suffered.  You have never suffered a moment of the torment that I live each day.  You don't wear the physical and emotional scars that I do.  Those scars that are not seen.  Only heard by the rage that has built within me.

I can only hope hell is as it is chalked up to be!!  There is no amount of repentance that would bring you closer to the pearly gates of heaven. None. I know first hand that in order to cross that gate you would have needed to make amends to those you hurt.

Screw you!
Your Daughter

Monday, January 21, 2013

Beautiful Heartbreak - Every Step

There is nothing that I can say to describe this song (or singer) that could do justice.
So I leave you with this beautiful song and video.  One of the families in this video I have followed her blog for several years, far before their life changing accident.  When I found this song tonight (after looking for the video of a different song by Hilary Weeks) I immediately fell in love w/this video and song.  It says so much...and so little all in one.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

~Uphill Battle to Get Back Up~

A few weeks ago I wrote this post "Getting Back the hardest thing to do".  If you have not read it I encourage you do so. I also encourage you to comment and let me know that you...are choosing to get back up. This battle isn't easy. I don't recall ever being told it would be.  I have been told it would be worth it.  I don't really know that I agree.  However, in the meantime I have nothing to loose by trying and everything to loose by not trying. 

I've been sucker punched hard the last few weeks.  So much so that getting back up off the floor has been much harder than in times past.  There have been a few days in the last 2 weeks that I've not managed to get back up.  I'm not proud of those days.  I'm not going to beat myself up over them either.  Yesterday....yesterday...was one of those days....where I was sucker punched to the point of not being able to get up.  And so, I didn't.  Sure I got up....but I never got dressed...and ate just about anything in our house that contained gluten, sugar, and crap.  I didn't brush my hair. I didn't brush my teeth.  And one of the biggest clues to anyone close to me that something isn't I hadn't several days.  Suggestions from my dh that I might feel better if I showered ended with him regretting saying anything to me.  

I tried hard to fight past it.  If you read my I Will Get Up Again and Again's FB page you might already know what happened later in the day.  I tried hard to fight past having face planted on the floor.  It didn't work so well.  I tried.  I really did. What followed wasn't all that pretty.

I'm thankful for my bestfriend who called and not knowing that I needed to hear her voice. Even if I ignored her call, sent a text telling her I wasn't up to talking, and then called her back.  Who when she hung up told me "I'm going to call you back in a little bit to make sure you went home. You better answer your damn phone when I call you back."

I hadn't went home.  I did answer her call.  And we talked about nothing for quite sometime.

I'm thankful for the friend who keeps pushing me past my comfort zone.  Encouraging me to dig deeper even when digging deeper hurts like hell and is even scarier.  Even when digging deeper brings up some ugly crap. I'm thankful for her persistence when I snap back she is able to snap right back, reminding me to check in w/what the trigger(s) may be at the time.

I got up and fought like hell against the voice in my head that said "* don't get up, stay in bed, you don't need to go..." And I showed up for sacrament. I sat in the foyer.  Spoke to noone. And got up and left as the tears became to much near the end of the closing hymn.  And somone was headed their way to sit near me.  Pretending I didn't see her coming my way, I got up and slipped out of the building.  During one of the talks my son came out to get a drink and go to the bathroom. He sat with me for a few moments and then disappeared back into the chapel.  I came home and sunk back into bed for a majority of the day. 

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Remind Me

Would you....

....remind me who I am?

I am more than who I see in the mirror each day.
I am more than the negative voice in my head who tells me that I will never be good enough. Ever.
I am more than the mom who yells at her children when she is frustrated and overwhelmed.
I am more than what depression tells me I am.
I am more than the mom, who battles severe depression/treatment resistant depression daily.
I am more than the anxiety that has wrapped the chains around my neck.
I am more than the fear that holds me back from the blessings life has in store.
I am more than the mom, who fights tremendous guilt each day for who she can't be.
I am more than the wife who constantly questions her husbands love for her.
I am more than what mental illness has made me believe I am.
I am more than what I tell myself I am.

I am a mother.
I am a wife.
I am more than anxiety.
I am more than depression.
I am imperfect.
I am a Daughter of a Loving Father in Heaven.
I am real.
I am transparent.
I am Me.

The circumstances in my life do not define who I am as a person. 

I am Enough.

**This post was one of the hardest posts that I've wrote.  it has taken a few days for me to gather the courage to finish it.  This is what depression does to me.  To anyone who battles with this beast...this is what it does.  There are days that the depression and dark hole is so incredible deep it hurts to breathe. It hurts to move. I hurts to think.  Nearly every single moment of...every single day of the last 10-14 days have been filled with darkness.  This last week has been literally step by step, hour by hour, minute by minute, to get to the end of the day. Today was no different.**

Friday, January 11, 2013


Yesterday afternoon I met with a clinic for a consultation and information about TMS Therapy.  I left overwhelmed and scared all in one. Speaking to a stranger about some of the dark moments and the current state I've been in was tough.  And having my husband there was tougher.

The level of emotional toll was high as I went to my next appointment for my shoulder.

The pain during that appointment was much higher than it had been in recent appointments.  I was unable to keep myself together enough to stay present during the treatment.  Which ended up with me having hitting my eye and cheek.  It was destined to be a black eye.  However, it isn't looking to bad right now.   It is sore.  A reminder of the space that got me to that point.

I left that appt and went to have a massage.  Being able to find some sort of balance and grounding was my goal.  It didn't happen.  Occasionally,  I leave massages feeling unraveled.  This appointment was one of them.

I came home to dinner and had a nice chat with my kids.   They were excited about the GF lasagna and desert.  My son had a friend come over and he was telling all about that.

And then I got a message via FB from my mom: "Gim  (my nickname), call me asap.". She told me wht happened in the message.  I was speechless.   And just like that my world stopped for a few moments.

My nephew was left without a mother yesterday.  She decided that life was to much.  She let depression and mental illness win.  She robbed her son of having a mother.

I get what that looks like.  I get what it is like to go to sleep and not wake up.

And as much as I get still sucks!

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

What She Said

I can really appreciate this post. It hits home on many levels.

I'm currently feeling the "constant racing thoughts' montra.  And they are not the good thoughts.  They are overwhelming,  overbearing and all around scary at times.

Inner Peace

I wish there was some magic cure.  There is none.  I know that.  Yet, something needs to give.

I haven't shared some of the on going, relentless,  and racing thoughts this time around.  Other than the suicidal thoughts...I've kept that other piece to myself.  Please, don't ask.  I'm not ready of willing to 'describe what that looks like'.  Maybe in the future.  Not today.

I'm not sure what the lesson to be learned in all of this is.  I do know that if is taking its step at a time.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Pretty much sums up where my head is tonight.

Spiraling down I don't know if it can get much worse.  And then I'm reminded they indeed it ca

Monday, January 7, 2013

Pretty much sums it up in a nutshell.
There really are no words.
No titles.
No nothing that can explain.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Can I?

This morning while sitting in church I came across the picture below on pinterest.

At that moment the weight came crushing down. Fighting back tears as I sat there waiting for the last hymn to end.

Can I REALLY do this? 

I keep being told "you are not need to use the tools you have been given over the have been 'here' before...and so much more."

I am alone.
Sure there are others who get this. 
I am here. Right here. Doing this alone. 
I have pulled out nearly every tool I have. 
I have picked myself up off the floor and participated in life.
Because that is what the tools insist on doing.
And here I sit.
In my car.

I'm signing off for now.,
Could be the day, a week, a month...

I don't know.