Daily Archives: February 3, 2014
“The key to happiness is good health and a bad memory.” -Ingrid Bergman
I have lost six pounds in the past two weeks. I am proud of myself for maintaining good eating habits and daily exercise, and I need this success more than ever before. Everything else in my life seems to be crumbling to the ground. So, by God, I need to at least be able to say I got skinny from it all, right?
The truth is, I am heartbroken. I am confused. I don’t know what is happening around me, or how to stop it. I’m baffled and bewildered and feeling so very, very alone. It’s depression. It’s other things. It’s a losing battle all the way around. And yet, I am still fighting.
I am having a hard time accepting what has recently been brought to light. After several months of being disowned by my father’s family, I finally found out why. They all believe I did something that, in reality, I did not do. But they believe I did it, and it’s something awful, and apparently some other people outside of the family believe it as well. I can’t even begin to try to prove that it isn’t true, not yet anyway, because then they would know who told me. Besides, the only “proof” I have is my word, and I doubt anyone would listen at this point. It’s complicated, and I can’t be any more specific about the situation on here. This whole situation has stressed me to no end. I know I shouldn’t care what people think of me. I know the truth and that should be enough. But my dad was the world to me, and now his family hates me. It just stirs up the grief of losing him even more. And it makes me wonder, have I lived my life in such a way that even family would believe I am capable of doing that? Do I come across as that heartless and greedy? And why didn’t anyone come to me about this and talk to me? Chew me out about it if that’s what you think I’ve done. But to just walk out of my life and lock the door behind you? Where is the sense in that??
I wish I could forget this place. I wish I could move so far away, where I could start over. Where no one knew me, so I could begin again. But, of course, I can’t do that. Even if money was not an issue, I will not move away from my daughters. So, I am stuck here. Indefinitely. And my paranoia is running rampant. Every person who seems to be avoiding me, I wonder if it’s because “the rumor” has reached them. It’s embarrassing. It’s appalling. For anyone, it would be troubling. For someone with social phobia, it’s earth-shattering. Like I didn’t worry enough already how I come across to people. Ugh!
Fiance says I should just forget it. It doesn’t matter what people believe. If they are shallow enough to shut me out because of it then it’s proof that they must not have cared that much for me to start with. And I know that, but it’s the truth of that statement that hurts so much. To know I didn’t matter. Maybe it’s because I was adopted; maybe they never viewed me as “true” family. But that’s not the way I felt about Daddy. He was my father, regardless of blood. He loved me. He’s the only parent I never doubted when it came to love and security. I would never do anything to disrespect his memory. So, why does everyone else seem to believe otherwise? I have such good memories from my childhood of time spent with these relatives, and now all of those people are against me. I am hurt and I am angry, and I wish I knew how to let this go and not care.
I guess it’s times like this when I really miss having a therapist the most. I need someone to just listen without telling me what I already know. I know I should just drop it. I know I should move on and not give it a second thought. But I need to grieve. I need to be able to cry without being told how senseless it is to be this upset. I need time to heal from this in my own way. I need patience from others during the process.
Stop thinking evil thoughts for just a moment and watch this video. It will take your concentration off of bad things, and make sure feel AWE.
“Rino Stefano Tagliafierro, a skilled Italian animator and artist, took it upon himself to recreate some of our most favorite works of art in a recent short film called “Beauty.”
The visual captures the essence of an old painting with the shine and swiftness of a quality HD film made today.”
I PROMISE you will feel better afterwards.
Filed under: Art Post, media, Uplifting, Videos
Oh the can is open and the worms are everywhere today. I am talking supersized McCrazy here. My anxiety is so bad I could’t swipe my debit card cos my hands were shaking so hard. This is bonafide batshit insane territory for me.
Started ok, aside from it being minus five degrees out and me being in nicotine withdrawal. I was motivated. THEN that ass trash piece of shit car just had to piss me off by both doors being frozen shut. NEVER happened on my 70′s or 80′s models cos they were made of actual metal, ffs. I tried leaning against it, chiseling the ice, lock deicer around the seals…Nothing. So that sent me into a pissed off tantrum which is asinine but it happened. With the clock ticking on getting my kid to school, I let the anger fuel me and eventually won that particular battle.
(with a plethora of swear words some sailors might blush at, but I am classy that way.)
Got my baby to school. Treated myself to a pack of smokes, which with a coupon, cost less than four bucks and bargains always make me happy. Then I went to the store for household stuff…And that was when it all started going wonky. I was woozy, lightheaded, my knees felt weak, my hands were shaking and sweaty, my heart palpitating and then, the coupe de grace….All those little thoughts that lurk in the shadows of my mind came out to play and remind me people ARE out to get me. They think you’re fat and ugly, they’re gonna tease you like in school. They know you’re nuts so they’;re gonna label you a bad mom and take your kid. Your car is going to break down and leave you stranded and no one will come get you cos you’re such a waste of space.
Oh, those sweet little thoughts that aren’t legitimate enough to be McCrazy-esque “voices” or “delusions” and yet are so real and powerful you want to check out the aisle with the summer grilling supplies and see if they Barbecue skewers are out so you can jab a couple into your brain in hopes of wiping out whatever section is letting those evil thoughts out to play.
It didn’t get better, I got dizzier and dizzier with the panic. But to my credit, I did pull myself up by the boot straps and go pay bills and buy food for my kid. Function above all else. It was scary, though. Not just the thoughts, but feeling so woozy and being so shaky. Even for my crazy ass it was extreme.
And when the thoughts have come out to play, it really makes basic interaction difficult. Because that friendly cashier making small talk may be perfectly harmless but your “friendly thoughts” are reminding you of the threat they pose. Never mind logic it’s got no place in McCrazy land. Wish the damn professionals could grasp that. There’s no the difference between what’s real and what’s not, and then there’s being trapped in your own mind with nowhere to run from the stuff that’s not real yet still SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF ITS LUNGS AT YOU.
I think maybe I need to talk to someone. NOT a professional. But who? I really have no one to turn to with this mental stuff. I tried talking to my mom and that blew up in my face.
I’ve pondered talking to my sister. I’m sure she would be empathetic, but she’s the one who “cured herself” of mental illness so the notion of her advising me to do the same doesn’t seem all that helpful. Plus she’s so busy and self occupied, she wouldn’t have time to spare me.
I do talk to Becca but she has her own demons and well, our moods never match so if I am in the gutter and she is up, the idea of bringing her into a bad mental space breaks my heart.
That leaves…No one.
Just me and my nasty little thoughts and panic and this out of control feeling that after all these years of struggling but managing…I’m not doing so well anymore.
My one respite is my devotion to my daughter. Though the nasty thoughts went to work trying to taint even that earlier by pointing out how I am gonna screw her up with my mental shit and my personality disorders so she’d be better off being raised by a chimpanzee…The thoughts are really cruel. My subconscious maybe? My fears talking? Bottom line is, I won’t fail her. Maybe I’m not well adjusted and level and conventional but my love is pure and that’s gotta count for something.
Well I’m still shaking but being home in my safe zone seems to have helped considerably. Still…They’re calling for a big snowstorm so I have much still to do before tomorrow.
I can’t get the gas cap door to open and the car is almost out of gas so that was one more tantrum I had, in front of others, and by then I was so frustrated I didn’t even have the decency to feel ashamed of my behavior. I will tackle it again. Because the definition of life apparently is beating your head against the wall and asking why do I have a headache.
I bought food for my kid…and forgot about myself, so a grocery store outing will be needed. FUCK.
This day sucks already and it’s not even 11am. What fresh hell…I want that on my damned tombstone.
One of the best aspects of college life is living with my roommate, Kathleen. We had a lot of fun this weekend, so I thought I’d put together a list of three ways to help you and your roommate get along!
Go on adventures together. This picture was taken on a snow day. Instead of staying in bed, we decided to venture through the flurries to see the sun rise. We didn’t end up seeing anything, but it was a fun bonding experience. We’ve just started going to the gym together, and we often grab meals (pizza bagels!) side by side. It’s much more fun to have a partner in crime, even if you’re doing something as simple as going to the dining hall or taking a walk around campus.
Prank each other. This little imp was a gift from when I served on the NAMI Panel. Kathleen and I can’t get over how demonic he is. We take turns hiding him around the room and scaring each other. I was falling asleep one night and I reached under my pillow to find HIM. He is currently nameless, so feel free to leave suggestions in the comments. This freak needs a baptism stat.
Talk about mental health. Kathleen knows about my diagnosis, and she knows about most of my symptoms. Transparency is so much easier than attempting to hide it from her! Living with another person also serves as great motivation to get up in the morning. On days when I’m feeling depressed and would rather stay in bed, seeing Kathleen getting ready for the day motivates me to do the same. We also talk about pretty much everything: how we’re feeling, things that stress us out, weird things we see on tumblr… I’m ecstatic to live with someone who is a mental health advocate like I am. We have big plans for the world!
There was a time when I wanted to go to college and live in a single dorm. I’m glad I didn’t make that choice. I may be an introvert, but I do not enjoy being alone all the time! Even now, Kathleen and I are both working independently on our laptops. We’re not interacting, but I treasure her company. Being able to turn to her at any time to share something funny I’ve found, ask a question, or make plans has turned out to be a major part of my freshman experience. My final word of advice to future college students: don’t rule out a roommate. You just might end up with an awesome friend.
I think that title accurately describes my disorder. You see a house with lights on you think all is well, people are home, blah blah blah.
With me…the lights may all be home but there’s nobody home half the time. Meaning…don’t be fooled by minimal functionality.
Today was not great. Nothing happened. Just in different mental space. I was restless, irritable, indecisive, and nervous today. None of which makes you feel pleasant and embrace the concept of living. Instead I felt the day feeling vulnerable and weak and paranoid and suspicious and TERRIFIED. Of what, I have no idea. No one came by. There was nothing to fear. But that lack of logic is what makes it an illness.
I don’t remember it ever altering my mental state like this prior to my daughter’s birth. Something changed and it was not for the better. She supersized my crazy, I think, by taking out what little sanity I had through the placenta.
I’ve taken a Trazadone. I just wanna get warm and sleep. I don’t like this mental space. Or the panic lurking beneath surface giving me heart palpitations because tomorrow kicks off the grind of another school week and I have to go pay bills in the petri dish and…
I pay for every good day I have by morphing into this. Is it any wonder I’ve gotten to where good days freak me out as much as bad ones?
The only New Year’s resolution I made this year was that 2014 is going to be amazing and I plan to make sure that it is. So far, however, it’s
I guess that by now, you’ve recognized the fact that I use a lot of song titles as post headings. That’s because a) I’m not clever enough to come up with an original title for every single entry, and b) because I adore music and this is a small way I can pay tribute to its creators. So there.
Anyway, this post isn’t really about losing my religion, but about the confusion that results when I try to figure out all the big-picture stuff. It can’t really be helped; I’ve been bombarded with stimuli for weeks now, not just from my new job but also some potentially ominous goings-on in Will’s health status. Though his primary tumors have actually shrunk, the most recent CT scan found lesions on his spine and ribs (called “bony metastases”) that could be bad news, and they did two MRIs plus X-rays last week; we’ll find out this Thursday what it all means.
In the meantime, while dealing with the flashbacks to the dark days following his diagnosis last summer, I’ve been having some really intense conversations with God again. I’m still doing fine mental health-wise, but as a medical professional I am not happy with this development, even if the “lesions” were on the original CT. Nobody told us about it then, and now we’re both perturbed and more than a little anxious.
Anyway, as we were sitting in church this morning waiting for Mass to begin, I was thumbing through the hymnal for the day’s liturgical music and was delighted to see that several of my favorite songs were included. I have quite a few, but these were hymns that comfort me a great deal when I’m feeling unsettled—and I marveled at the coincidence.
And then I wondered…..was it mere coincidence? Or could it be something more?
Religion, some say, has been the refuge of both visionaries and lunatics throughout the ages….maybe because there’s a very fine line between prescience and psychosis. Think about it: how many times have you heard a street person declare that he is God, or a TV “evangelist” claim he has a special connection with the Almighty? But even more importantly…..how do we know that they’re wrong?
I have to reserve judgment on those questions because I myself have had too many “coincidences” like this to believe they are ONLY coincidences. There have been too many instances in which I was in the right place at the right time—to help, to be helped. Like the times I’ve said the right words to someone who needed to hear them……and I had no idea that I even knew the right words until they were out of my mouth. Like the times I’ve had an odd sense that a perfectly decent-looking patient was about to take a dive, and acted before disaster struck.
And like today, when four seemingly randomly chosen songs were just the ones I needed to remind me that the Lord sees what’s going on in my life, and cares enough to reach out to me through sacred music.
I suppose in some circles I would be thought mad, and of course, we all know I have my moments. I even have occasional delusions, mostly about government spying and people trying to spoil my fun when I’m manic. But experiencing religious delusions right smack in the middle of the longest period of sanity I’ve had in some time? I don’t think so…..in fact, I haven’t been this grounded in reality in my entire life.
And yes, hearing those songs did comfort and reassure me. They spoke to me of trusting God to take care of me, no matter what happens……even if the news on Thursday isn’t good. But sometimes, I wish He didn’t trust ME so much.