Lone-li-ness

I've thought a great deal lately about loneliness.  I can't really say it is because I'm feeling lonely.  Although, extreme marital distress/issues and severe depression  that continue to stare me in the face tend to increase that feeling tenfold.

In general, I've been thinking about how it is easy to be lonely in just about any situation we face in life.  It isn't very new to me at the moment as I've veen pretty dang lonely in my marriage and in the midst of friendships.

Some weeks days it is just plain hard to be human....to be alive...to breathe.  It is hard to come to terms with the reality of our lives.  How we thought they would be.  How we envisioned our "for time and all eternity", "for better or worse", and so many other areas in life.  

Loneliness, sorrow, and disappointment seem to feed into each other.  For me they are extremely hard to separate at times.  For me they are extremely hard to separate at this time in my life.

Recent life events, at the darkest of days and my most depressed moments, I have felt incredible lonely.  So much so these moments/days/weeks have felt like they are going to kill me.  I've spent many hours sobbing uncotrollably in my car over the last several weeks. Unable to stop the tears.I've learned to drive while crying.  I know this isn't safe.  It has become a coping mechanism to get me to the end of each day.  I have cry through many different things each day.  If I give into this deepness of dispair and loneliness and commonly known as the black hole...I would never ever get out of bed.  Ever.  Functioning while crying constantly is still functioning.....at best I'm leaving my house to work, attend occupational therapy and regular therapy appointments....which at the end of the day regardless of how is functional.

I was raised in a predominatly Methodist family, before joining the LDS Church (which my bio family are all members) at the age of 15.  I've been taught and believed from a very young age that my Father in Heaven loved me.  That I was His Daughter and nothing I could do or say would change his love for me.  I was taught from a very young age how to pray.  During the years of trauma/abuse endured by my bio father, I remember praying over and over for him to forget about coming to get me.  My lack of faith in being alone in this experience over and over was the beginning of feeling as though my Father in Heaven had forgotten me, that loneliness that not a soul would understand....and...... the self talk as it does with trauma/abuse from a very young age was believed to be my truth...I was indeed alone. 

....to be continued...maybe later....maybe never!

~Uphill Battle to Get Back Up~

A few weeks ago I wrote this post "Getting Back Up...is 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 right...is I hadn't showered...in 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. 

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. 

~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.    

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!?!?!?!