Daily Archives: November 3, 2017
Monday, October 30th was a strange day, my friends. But before I get into that, I need to give you the backstory which involves The New York Times Book Review, its editor, and the late actor/author Spalding Gray. I also must touch upon my “I’m Disappointed” philosophy because it might have played a role in what took … Continue reading When “I’m Disappointed” Works & When It Doesn’t for The New York Times Book Review
Thanksgiving may still be three weeks away, but lately I’ve been thinking a lot about how much I have to be grateful for. Life hasn’t always been awesome to me, especially not in the past five years or so; still, I have been blessed with many good things. Here are some of them.
First and foremost, I’m thankful for family. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for them and their support. No matter how bad I feel on a given day, there’s always someone to offer a shoulder to cry on. Recently my daughter Mindy told me on Facebook Messenger that she was reading my blog and had come to the conclusion that I was “fucking incredible” (her words) and that “you need to be told you’re awesome”. Coming from her, that is high praise and it made my year. She is admittedly not good with talking about feelings, but I think she did a great job with these!
I’m thankful for nature and its connection to God. I love to watch the trees turn to red and gold and orange, to feel the brisk wind in my hair, to listen to the rain on the roof. (Even though the rain gets old after the first couple of days.) I love the green of spring and the golden summer days. I’m not wild about winter, but even that has its beautiful moments. Sometimes I look at nature in all its glory and say “Lord, you make such cool stuff!” Well, He does.
I’m thankful for the roof over my head. Once upon a time, Will and I came within a whisker of being homeless, and believe me I appreciate not have to worry about sleeping in a car or living in a cardboard box behind the strip mall. I love it that I live in a warm, comfortable house with people I adore. I think I’ll always be somewhat insecure in this area because of the trauma of losing my own home, but I take that one day at a time.
I’m thankful to be on Social Security and Medicare. I’d rather be able to work, and the amount is barely enough to survive on—I couldn’t live on my own even if I wanted to—but it does pay my rent and bills and leaves a tiny bit for fun. I’m still amazed that now I have little money to manage, I do a good job of it. I wish I’d figured this out when I was making 60K a year. I haven’t had an overdraft in years. I even have a credit card which I pay faithfully each month. It took some doing and some time, but my once-Very Poor credit rating has improved to Fair. I’m proud of that.
I’m also thankful for the medication that keeps me stable for the most part. It’s what makes the rest of my life work. I don’t like having to take so many pills, but the reason I am on six psych meds is because five weren’t enough. Thank God for the wisdom of the doctors who have prescribed them for me! I was just looking back at a post from 2014 in which I wrote of my dismay at having to be on two anti-psychotics, and I laughed because it was so ridiculous. Truth was, I wasn’t making it on one, and Dr. Awesomesauce knew it. Now, years later, I’m still on two APs and there are no plans to change that anytime soon. There’s a certain amount of security in that, so I just consume my meds twice a day and enjoy the fact that my moods aren’t all over the map.
Most of all, I’m thankful that I have so much to be thankful for. I miss my husband something fierce and I will yearn for him for the rest of my life, but in this second year without him I feel nothing but gratitude for having had him as long as I did. He visits me in my dreams on most nights, and in all of them he is happy and healthy, and he looks just like he did in the prime of his life.
Happy early Thanksgiving!
This week hasn’t been as mentally grueling as last week was, but it’s had its own challenges. The surprise functionality Halloween night sent me down the blargh path, which is a step above splat. Neither are good. Yesterday in the midst of time in the petri dish I was ninja attackaced by unprovoked anxiety…I am flailing and trying to ‘be normal’ and ‘be strong’ but honestly…I’m not nailing it. Adulting is hard enough, but when your entire operating system (brain) has multiple corrupted files…It’s a bitch.
And of course, I am still finding myself in spineless jellyfish situations, like last night when R asked me to come over and keep him compnay while he cooked chili. And I said no at first, but then he played all butt hurt like I had rejected him as opposed to simply wanting to stay in…so I packed my kid over with me and she pretty much dominated the evening with complaints, demands, ailments, and various other attempts at manipulation to suit her own needs. To my credit, I didn’t bow down. In fact, I had planned on a polite 90 minute stay but when she started pushing me with her whining…it became a three hour visit. I’m tired of being walked on, my name is not welcome mat. And frankly, if being a welcome mat is what makes a “good” parent these days, I’ll accept being a mediocre one. I am held hostage to her social life every single day so it’s not unreasonable to expect her to suck it up for a couple of hours once every few months when I actually do leave the house. Besides…there are lots of toys there for the grandbabies, so it’s not like she was left without entertainment.
I managed the final day at the shop with a minimal of meltdown, though my brain really wasn’t in it. I arranged a sleepover for Spook with mom tonight and when I dropped her off there…I made an off hand comment about ‘I don’t think I am gonna last more than a month or two more helping out R” and my mom looked at me as if I had grown two heads.
“Well, why not? He doesn’t ask much of you, does he? What’s the problem?”
I do so love having my mental issues and anxiety perpetually belittled by EVERY FUCKING PERSON IN MY LIFE. Not.
I haven’t showered in almost 3 days, my sink is full of dishes. I just now man aged the energy to vacuum after two weeks.Cat boxes need scooped. I am three loads behind on laundry, which is a big issue now that the dryer is dead. My sofa is 6 feet piled deep with clean clothes I can’t find energy to fold and put away…I am struggling and it’s not affect or drama or weakness. It is fact. To constantly have every single person in my life berate and belittle me for what they’re not intelligent enough to understand makes it all worse.
I am a big fan of the “fuck ’em” dismissal thing, but when you’re trying to lean on a loved one or friend for support when you feel tapped out and they make youn feel so tiny and weak…It fucking sucks. And it’s all I’ve ever known yet I still keep thinking one day at least one of them might come around to see just how hindered my mental issues make me. If that’s not optimism, I don’t know what is.
For tonight…I have peace and I can rest and reboot…all the while my scumbag brain reminds me that my mom has likely already told everyone and their dog how ridiculous I am to say I can’t handle much more juggling in my life.
What makes that even more vile is the fact nurse doctor kind of treats me the same way. Like my problems are petty and i am faking it and “you’ve got this”.
That’s not having faith in me being a strong person. It’s just cruelty. I am going under here and by the time anyone truly realizes it…I’m gonna be down the rabbit hole and probably en route to a psych ward stay. All because the masses are too ignorant to place the proper severity on mental illness.
I’m not a victim, I am not asking for sympathy or hand holding. I am, however, a patient, with legitimate illnesses, who would like someone to reassure me that it’s okay if I can’t juggle six chainsaws, two machetes, a kid, cats, auto care, housework, bill paying, and a partridge in a pear tree without it melting me down.
I think it really is time to make the change back to Dr. B even if it means nurse doc puts a black mark on my Permanent Mental Health Record. If I don’t have the support of family and friends, I should at least have a mental health professional who makes me feel hopeful after an appointment. Nurse doc just makes me feel…like nothing. Like I am less than someone in the fast food drive thru. Not her intent,I am sure, but it’s her manner and that’s how it makes me feel. I’ve given it several months, several mood cycles and med regimes…She’s not helpful to me in a meaningful way.
And I think it’s really cruel that I’ve been placed in this position because they were understaffed and now I have to take steps to switch back to what I never truly agreed to leave.
Any thoughts on how to do this and conquer my spineless jellyfish syndrome? REALLY. If any of you who read this have suggestions on how to handle this situation in a non hostile manner that gets me back into a good therapeutic situation….TALK TO ME, PEOPLE. Please.
I am very sleepy. I have now had three nights of terrible sleep. Last night my reflux was acting up to the point that I was coughing a lot and had to move out of the bedroom and prop up on the couch. So I am not feeling my best this morning. I did manage to do my reading and whatnot for class so it at least went well. I had thought about calling in sick but am glad I did not do that ultimately. I went and got it done and we had a decent discussion of the material. So that was good.
My oldest daughter is coming home this afternoon for a day or so, so we will enjoy that. I need to go to the grocery store and get a few things but not much–I have an event Saturday night for the benevolence ministry and then Bob and my youngest will be gone all day SUnday for a dance clinic. SO that will be an interesting day.
I want soup for lunch so I am trying to decide to go get it at a restaurant or go to the grocery store and buy some and fix here at home. We will see. I have some time to figure that out.
Hope everyone has a good weekend!
Its as if he knew
The caped Canaveral of darkness
Ushering in depression as
The leaves fall
Desperate trees swaying in limited light
Naked and vulnerable
My windows closing
Tighter and ever so tight
Air inside thinner and thinner
The walls become my unfocus
As I stare mindlessly
Nothing truly in my sight
The weight of existence
Pressing harder and harder
And sometimes exhaling in pain
I sit mostly motionless
Anticipating that old rusting chain
Pulling me down
Farther and farther
Into the unbalanced realm
Of the shameful insane
The rafters of my mind
As the microphone of thoughts
There is no everlasting
In these fits and starts