One of Those Days...Again

You can tell most people you are having "one of those days", and they will nod sympathetically at you. But anyone who live with a mood disorder, knows this is not a run of the mill, crappy luck, tomorrow will be better kind of a day.  This is a, I had to decide whether to get out of bed kind of a day. The kind of day where you are miserable in your own skin.  The kind of day where you feel the overwhelming urge to cry at any given moment, in public, and somewhat hysterically. The kind of day where you are miserable to be around, and you are ok with that, because it is also the kind of day where most people make you want to kick them (or cry...or both). You don't want to be hugged, even by the people you love. Sometimes even by your own child. You don't want to talk to, or smile at strangers. You don't want to move because it just takes too much freaking energy. The worst part of it all, is that this is one of those kind of days that most people DON'T understand, nor can you explain it. It is not that anything especially bad or upsetting happened. Yeah, everyone has bad days, or bad moods, but this is beyond that. This is misery beyond what most people understand. This is depression. Not depression the mood, but depression the disorder. Which means it maybe truly just be "one of those days" because there was extra stress, or you didn't get enough sleep, or because you've had a hormone shift. OR it could be "one of those days" that settles in and stays for awhile, weeks maybe. The not knowing sometimes makes you even more miserable. Wondering how many of "those days" lie ahead before you begin to feel normal again (whatever that is.) Today was one of those days. God, how I hope tomorrow is a new day.

All Four Seasons

How will I know?
How can I tell?
Which side of the bed she takes when the day begins
She can be kind
She can be cruel
She's got me guessing like a game show fool

If it's a sunny day I take my umbrella Just in case the raindrops start to fall You could say that I'm just a cautious fellow
I don't want to be caught in a sudden squall
That's my baby
She can be all four seasons in one day
That's my baby
She can be all four seasons in one day

My ex husband used to swear that All Four Seasons by Sting was written about me. If it wasn't, well I can at least relate, and so could he. I am the "artsy" type, a Gemini, a woman, with a mood and anxiety disorder. Yeah, it in short I am moody, and my whole life functions around those moods. I am very emotion based. I don't see it as a bad thing, but it also has not always proven to be an asset either. Let me clarify here by saying that, while it does occasionally make me seem a little flighty, I am not unintelligent. I am just more inclined, than some, to give someone the benefit of the doubt, or consider what they might have been feeling before making my final judgement. I have always been this way.

At any rate, I, and others, have several thought on why I am this way. There is the idea that some people just come hardwired this way. The idea that I am a Gemini, and there for my disposition was written in the stars. I could have a hormone imbalance. It could be part of my depression and anxiety disorders. Maybe it is all of the above. I may never know. Here's what I do know. It is exhausting! Especially during times of high stress, I often feel like I am an emotional pin ball. Getting bounced around, lights and noises, smacked and zapped until I finally fall through a hole at the bottom of the day. I don't know what to do about it any more. I had a boyfriend who used to fight with me. He believed you had to be "in control of your emotions". Believe me when I tell you that I wish I were! Do you have any idea what it feels like to go through a whole rang of emotion in a few hours time? Each new emotion brings on a new view of the world. Sometimes, I even feel the swing coming, but I can't stop it, and I am not saying this as an excuse for my bad behavior or lack of self control. People who know me well have watched me ride the waves of emotion, lash out in rages, begin to cry for no reason, get so nervous and anxious that I have a hard time letting my own daughter touch me, then be fine a few hours later. It often makes me feel out of control and crazy.  It makes it difficult to make decisions. Especially, big decisions. I become very confused, and overwhelmed, very quickly, and my head begins to spin. It mixes together logic and emotion until I loose track of which is which. It's dizzying. I will literally make a decision, and hours later FEEL differently, and begin to second guess myself. I wish that I was more able to detach from the emotion of my life and the emotion of those around me. All of the back and forth, up and down it wears on me, increases my anxiety, makes me lack self confidence.

Does anyone else have this problem? Is this something common with depression and anxiety? What techniques work to help you disconnect and begin to de-emotionalize an experience or decision? Can you detach some, or is it just a part of who you are and you have to learn a work around? How do you keep you constant mood changes from wearing you out?

Kids teaching parents

Read Madam Bipolar's blog, Plan B and the comments that followed it, makes me think a lot about my mental illness and its effects on my daughter. (Both genetic and environmentally) I, in fact, just today call a family therapy group so that we can deal with her anxiety. (Daddy was kind enough to provide his own anxiety disorder to her genetic make up, in addition to my disorders.) As well as, to help her deal with Chuck and his daughter moving out. It is something I am constantly aware of. For example, the other night I had a particularly bad anxiety night and my daughter wanted to climb on me, snuggled with me, the normal stuff, but for some reason every time she touched me I got jumpy and felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. She was doing her normal 6 year old thing, but the wiggling, and talking, and bumping me....I just couldn't take it. It made me feel like a horrible momma's. She just wanted some attention. Now believe me when I say my child has NO lack of attention! She is an only child, and the first born grandchild of 3 sets of grandparents. But the fact that I knew MY disorder was causing me to not be able to hold her, snuggled her, and be the affectionate mom I usually am bothered me. As a lot of the comments left on the Plan B blog said you become so aware of moments like that. Instead of yelling at her and telling her to leave momma a lone, we talked and she understood that momma's needed some down time. It helps some to see her understand and reflect that. She will tell her dad when he call that she "thinks momma's newest some alone time because she is really frustrated and upset"
These things, these example, show not just the negate side of a mentally ill parent, but they also show a little girl with a kind heart. She is always willing to help and always wants to make people feel better. I once told "No, no honey momma's is the adult. I will take care of it." She rubbed my back, whiles my tears away and said, "See momma's even little people can help too." And she was right. I needed to feel love and cared for that night.
I have struggled from clinical depression and anxiety since I was 19 (least that's when I was diagnosed). My 20s were spent in a lot of turmoil. Skipping class, sleeping a lot, then the panic attacks started. Then I stopped caring. Stopped eating, stopped wearing make up, started cutting, got my first tattoo. I cycles though the depression, the self destructive behavior for the next few years. Then once I had mocked with my ex down south, I found people who began helping me. I kept up with my medications, as well as my counseling. As did my ex. I went to counseling 8month pregnant, I went 9 months pregnant, and I went with a new born. I did NOT want to fail now that I had a little life at stake. Just having her makes me want to be a better person, makes me want to maintain my level of being high functioning. She pushes me to do that. When I am to depressed to get out of bed I get up and get her to school, every morning. After I get home I lay down again, but damn it she is at school. When Chuck lived here and he was non-stop on me about something and I wanted to grab my keys and go, but I didn't I didn't want to leave me daughter here without me. She sees that I am down or "Don't feel so well", and she generally let's me rest. She understands a lot for a kid her age. We talk about our feelings all the time. But most of all she makes me stronger. She makes me feel I can do things for her that I can do for no one else. The bus stop, every morning. Some times just get outta bed.
If I lived alone I would not get up, but she needs her momma's. So I push myself and I do it. Basically what is am saying is that without her I don't know that I would try so hard, or push myself as hard, or ever have know unconditionally love! And since I, and pretty much I alone, made my girl everything wonderful, compassionate, smart, independent. I gave her that and she gives me a reason to push on.

Update 12/7/11- I apologize for the earlier typos. I was writing on my cell phone and after taking my Paxil and Ambien.   

Opinions Welcome

Science Friday Archives: Combatting Depression With Meditation, Diet

As a regular NPR listener, and generally, a fan of alternative medicines, you can imagine my delight when I tuned in to Science Friday and heard part of this interview. Now I have tried meditation, yoga, St. John's Wart, Samee, exercise...pretty much whatever suggestions are out there to avoid medication for my clinical depression and clinical anxiety. Some of them helped lessen the symptoms, often they helped me keep my anxiety from peeking. But none of them made me feel good, or normal. However, since I also suffer from physical illness and migraines, in addition to anxiety and depression, I was especially interested when I heard the radio talking about a possible connection between depression and inflammation. It made me hopeful that some day maybe I could be cured and not just well.

Now at this point, I think it is important to say that I only heard PART of this interview, and I did not know it was Dr Weil being interviewed. I downloaded the interview so that I can listen to the full content. Also, being interested in alternative and inclusive treatment I have heard of Dr Weil, but have never researched him myself or formed my own opinion on his treatments and philosophies. I have read some articles and some quotes of his that I agree with, and some that I do not. In reading the responses to this interview, it seems there are two schools of thought here, both with their own biases and misconceptions.

First, alternative medicine (often actually derived from various ancient cultures) is often over looked as a real form of treatment. As is the connection between the psychological effects of physical illness on one's mood, and the effect of one's physical health on their mental health. There are many positives about alternative and natural treatments, and their are many misunderstandings about them as well.  And that is without getting into the issues within the health care system and private insurance available here in the USA, that make alternative medicines more expensive and less researched than traditional drugs.

The second school of thought comes from the view point of the mentally ill themselves. Having, myself, been misdiagnosed, over medicated, and felt the sting of the stigmas associated with depression and mental illness. We are tired of the Tom Cruise types and others who have never delt with the debilitating effects of clinical depression telling us that we just need to change our life style, or stop being lazy, or dwelling on things. While dealing with depression does take a certain amount of determination to survive, there are very real physical reasons for the emotional reactions we are having. And exercise, diet, meditation, yoga all help with depression as a mood, or the symptoms of depression, they often do NOT do enough for people with clinical illness. These things help me use less medication. They help me to avoid panic attacks, but they do not help me in times of high stress when my brain is not producing enough chemicals to help me think the way other people do. I do NOT see the alternatives during those moments. To me depression is as though someone has turned out all the lights in my head. I no longer see alternative pathways. I no longer feel hopeful. I no longer feel important or strong. I personally do manage to get out of bed most days, but I know many people who don't. So to tell someone who is already feeling bad about not being able to get up, or leave the house, that they should have the self awareness and discipline to exercise or meditate is just unrealistic. Plus, believe me when I say "You are NOT the first person to suggest this to a depressed person! If it were that simple, there would not be the mental health epidemic that there is."

In the end, it all boils down to stigmas and misconceptions. If we would all make a little more room in our lives to accept what other people believe, it could make a world of difference to everyone. Incorporating mind and body in ANY medical treatment is just a good idea. That said, knowing that people with mental illnesses have real medical conditions, that requires  real treatment, and not just a good talking to, is critical to making a difference in people's lives.

What is your opinion? Are you a Dr Weil fan? Do you believe in alternative medicines? Do you think there are links between diet, exercise, and depression, or is that just one more stigma for people with mental illness to battle?

Lesson Learned

It has been awhile since I written a blog entry. There has been too much going on to be able to document how I was feeling. Plus, with all the emotional turmoil, once I get the kid in bed, all I want is sleep!

Anyway, It only seems appropriate that I re-enter the blogaspher, with a lessons learned blog. So here goes...

What I have learned over the last month:

I am stronger than I think. More than once, recently, I have felt like I just could not take any more stress, pain, anxiety, whatever. Some days have been more of a struggle than others, but I have gotten through them all. One day at a time, one step at a time.

Good friends are an asset one should NOT underestimate. I have a really incredible group of friends who will support me through anything, who do not judge me for my mistakes, and who love me more unconditionally than ANY man ever has. (Some of them even cook me REALLY yummy food!) Leaning on them when I need to, has helped me immeasurably.

I am not the sum of my problems/ illnesses. I maybe sick (still no diagnosis). I may suffer from clinical depression and anxiety. I may have made some stupid choices in my life, but none of that defines me, it just adds depth!

Nose rings and medical tests don't mix. Damn thing was harder to get out than I expected, and it once I took it out the hole closed up in like no time flat!

People can surprise you. While my mother still seems to be having trouble full understanding clinical depression, she is for the first time in my life, talking how it effects my daily life, and stress level. She is also accepting, and encouraging me to continue on my medication and in counseling. BIG STEP!!!!

Broken promises can break relationships. If you break a promise by mistake, or on purpose, it changes your relationship with the person to whom the promise was made. Even little promises can add up to BIG mistrust and hurt feelings. respect the trust and feelings of those you love, own up to your mistakes, and (even though its a cliche) trust is something not easily earned.

Learn from your mistakes. Take ownership of all you do and say. even though we teach our children it is ok to make a mistake, we rarely believe it for ourselves. But it is ok. Embrace it, even if it feels uncomfortable, and above all learn from it. Be stronger, smarter, better because of it.

I love arts and crafts! There really is no better therapy for me than art therapy. It is an outlet for all I hold inside. It clears my mind, and makes me happy. It is also a great way to communicate and connect with my girly girl.

HAVE SOME FUN!!!! Once the depression hits I find it far too easy to shut myself off from the world, lock myself up at home, and sit around analyzing where I went wrong, over, and over, and over, and over (well you get it.) Anyone who suffers from depression knows, this only fuels the fire. Self analysis is great, but there is such a thing as too much of a good thing!

I actually kind-a like....me. Huh, who knew!? Yeah I'm quirky, I love aluminium Christmasmas trees, and campy roadside attractions. But, after hours of analysis (see above) I have decided I am not as bad as I thought i was. I am smart, cute, hysterical (just trust me on that one) talented, and AMAZING momma, and a good person. I could be worse!

Just Ok is Not Ok

I have not been writing much lately. It seems that life was pretty much kicking my a$$. In fact here is a list of other things I usually enjoy but have not been doing:
eating (I have one hell of a sweet tooth)
reading (books or blogs)
drawing
working full-time
playing with my kids
being outside
snuggling up for a nap with my dog
having sex
watching Jon Stewart...

I am sure you get the point. Here is what I have been doing:
sleeping (mostly during the day)
going to counseling (2x a week now)
increasing my meds
shaking
yelling
going from one medical test to another
dodging bill collectors
feeling nauseous
fighting with Chuck...

Again, I am guessing you get it. I am depressed and I am physically sick, and my sickness is making me depressed, and my depression is making me sick. My whole life feels like it is spinning out of control, and I am not saying this for dramatic effect, but I am motivated. I want to make changes. I want to regain control over the craziness (and by that I mean my life not my mental health). The biggest problem being that I have NO IDEA how to make these changes. I have spent weeks looking for the "redo" button, but came up with nothing. At this point, I would relocate, take a new job, refinance, rework, redo, go back to school if I thought it would help.

It seems, I have put myself in a situation where I am depending on people who are not reliable. So I find myself trying to cater to all these peoples needs and putting my priorities aside to pacify people who honestly, don't always treat me well because I feel like I need their help. I just don't know how to break away, and every time I get close some major drama happens. I feel like I have completely lost my sense of independence, my sense of self, along with my way in life.

I am ok. I am not fatally ill, I am not homeless, I am not starving, I am not alone. I am ok, but I am just ok, and I am not ok with just getting by. I want better, I deserve more, but I don't know how to get more. Have you gotten a new beginning? How did you do it? I know people do it, especially people who have depression, or other mental illnesses. They find healthier, less stressful, ways to live their lives, and I admire their strength. I admire their willingness to make their health a priority. I want need to simplify my life.  It shouldn't be this hard. Life should not be this hard. Any ideas how to start?

Just Listen

I am beginning to LOVE Grumble Sundays! I hope you are ok with a little venting this weekend. Ok or not here goes...

I am a Gemini, in addition to, one of those "creative types". This means my world is not black and white, it has many, many shades of gray (or even grey). I am a brainstormer, a ponderer, here in the USA I am what they might call a flip flopper. I am one of those people who doesn't buy and outfit until I have check several stores, just  in case there is something better at the next store. I can't help it, it's just the way I do things. If I am upset about something, I talk about it a lot, sometimes to many people. It is how I process events and emotions. I try not to reacted to things I find upsetting or bothersome right away. I process it first, look at it from other angles. I have found my first reaction to sometimes be very emotional and often defensive, and while occasionally that reaction is called for, often it is not. It may take me a day, or even a week to react, and even then I may fine that whatever it was, is really just not worth the time and the energy, and having already ranted about it, I just move on.

Now that I have rambled on in this way for a full paragraph I will get on with the grumble part now. I will break it down to two words: UNSOLICITED ADVICE let me first explain that I am well aware that the more people you talk to about a problem the more opinions you will get. I like opinions. It is part of my process, my brainstorming, gathering of various perspectives. However, there are times when I JUST need to vent. I just want to be able to voice my concerned in an environment that is open and safe. With someone who hears them and wants to know, understand how I feel. I don't want, or need, other people to solve my issues for me, and there is no need to shove your opinion on how I should handle my life's problems down my throat. First, because I'm not asking you to fix anything, and second, because it is after all, me that has to live with the consequences of both the problem and the solution. By insisting that you know EXACTLY what I need to do you are not helping me be more decisive it is just upsetting me more. I am alright with my process. I am ok with gray. I realize that it maybe frustrating for those who care about me to see me upset and not offer their advice. I just wish they could see that it is not helping me, it just makes me feel more anxious, and upset. Please just listen to me, let me vent, let me talk, and then let me process. Please!

What Is Reality?

<p>Sometimes, just the fact that I have been diagnosed with a metal illness, makes me question things I don't think I would have otherwise questioned. For example, when I was younger I had a boyfriend who was mentally and emotionally abusive. There were times when he would do, or say something, that my gut told me was wrong. Like so many abusers, he would of course argue with me that I, myself, had caused this to happen. That I was only causing myself pain, not him. This happened over and over until I began to question my own instincts. I began to feel that, maybe I WAS to blame. Maybe, I was truly not looking at the world wrong. Maybe, I was seeing a totally different picture than what was truly happening. This was a gauge I was never really able to reset, especially once I began therapy and was prescribed medications, both things that only happened to people who had MAJOR issues according to my family.  Those events in combination with being told continuously as a child that I was over reacting, overly sensitive, or overly dramatic, I beginning of my seeing myself as "crazy".

<p>Several times since then I have experienced major depressions, been put on different medications, had panic attacks, been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, and acted out in various self destructive and self defeating ways. All of these things just convinced me more and more that I am, indeed, a "crazy" person.

What I am left with is the inability to judge my own actions and feelings. I am constantly second guessing myself. Assessing, and reassessing my thought, feeling, and reactions. Whenever my interpretation of an event differs from other people's I begin to question my own gasp on reality. Even though I have never been diagnosed with any condition that would involve delusions of any kind, or any loss of a concept of reality, I have such a fear of being seen as "crazy", incapable, or off balance.

Lately, this sensation is getting worse for me. Chuck and I have been fighting viciously over the last week. Both of us stepping beyond the limits of a mature disagreement. Several times my feelings have been hurt so deeply, and I have felt so unloved and unimportant that I have flown off in intolerable rage. Often as things escalate, Chuck will tell me I need help, I am hysterical, or that I need more medication. This, of course translates in my head as, "You are crazy! I am discrediting everything you have just said because clearly you are out of your mind." This instantly makes me intensify out of sheer determination to be heard and important. Of course since this often involves screaming my head off and hurling objects at walls, and yes even at Chuck, it is also entirely self defeating. Afterward, mixed with the shame, hurt, anger, and frustration I feel the need to rehash the whole argument in my head trying, in vain, to figure out how two people could possibly see the same situation in such an extremely different way. Clearly, one of us must be completely out of touch with reality in order to be so far apart on our interpretation of one event. I begin to question my own sanity, my own ability to look at reality.

In addition, I have this horrible pain in my side and after 3 or 4 weeks of doctors visits, tests, and a trip to the ER I still have no answers. I am beginning to fear that people will begin to think there is nothing wrong with me. That this is a cry for attention, prescription medication, not as bad as I claim, or just psychosomatic. Meanwhile, the pain is getting worse and the constantness mixed with narcotic pain meds is beginning to effect my mental state as well as my physical. Then I begin to question if this pain is real.

Does this happen to other people? Do you ever have someone contradict your intuition, or interpretation of an event to the point that you begin to question your sanity, or am I SO trained that I am overly sensitive that I am now overly sensitive to being overly sensitive? I no longer know what's real and what's in my head.

My Top 5 Gripes (This Week)

Madam Bipolar has started Grumble Sunday, and being the glass half empty kinda gal that I am, I have decided to jump right on board. Since life has been...well...complicated recently, instead of going into a big explanation of my life's crappiness I will do a top five list of this weeks gripes.

#5 Chuck (the fiance) not only seems unable to put the lid back on the toothpaste, the milk, the aspirin, and so on, but he also then LOOSES the lids so that NO ONE can close them. I find lids and bottle caps in all his pockets and laying all over the house. How can you put milk away and NOT realize the lid is off and how hard is it to twist a small piece of plastic 3x with your fingers? (Yeesh!)

#4 Chuck wants to get rid of our pug mix. Yes, yes, I know he snorts, and wheezes and whines. And we call him the piddler since his previous owners left him with his "manhood" so he now pees on everything he deems as "his". And he is quite obviously dumb as a rock. I am aware we also have 2 kids and an increasing issues with our geriatric mess of an other dog. All that considered, I am still super attached to him. He is, after all, freakin hysterical (see attached pictures), and the best damn puggler in the house (he will puggle on my lap for hours. The fact that he is a pug mix gives us (ok me) hour of entertainment making up words to mix with pug, like pugtastic, pugtacular, puggle, pugly...Also, he is great with the kids, and frankly, I just like him, a lot and he makes me happy!

#3 I am currently wasting hours, and hours of my life waiting for doctors and test results, only to still have no diagnosis. Hours in waiting rooms, one whole flipping day at the ER, hours in exam rooms, hours waiting on techs to look at my test results, oh and about 15-20 with actual doctors. Yes, I know you are saving lives, bu for the love of Godzilla, my 2 kids and 2 dogs are not going to feed themselves. Then I get home and Chuck says "What the hell took you so long? It's been 2 hours." I want to tell him "The appointment itself only took like 1/2 an hour, but I have gotten behind on my daytime tv so I stayed on the waiting room another hour and 1/2 to catch up on All My Children and Judy Judy." I don' know why it took 2 hours it's the doctor's office that's just how it works.

#2 is another grumlbe related to my recent health issues. One word: referrals! Each new doctor, each new test the insurance company has to pre-approve and give a referral number for. REALLY? I mean REALLY? He same doctor can't run more than 1 test without a new number? Needless to say, I am in the beginning of week 3 of tests and week 4 of pain, waiting on referral # I don't know I lost track, for doctor #2 of 3 (4 if you count the ER doc) for test number 7 (ish) annnnnddddd n answers. Last test said maybe I have a "lazy stomach". WTF, a lazy stomach? Perhaps if I weren't taking so many medications to control the damn pain, my stomach would be so slow. Lord knows the rest of me has been walking around in drug induced haze for the last few weeks! I'm just sayin'.

#1 And my #1 grumble is my kids! Holy case of the cranky pants Batman!!!! It was fuss after fuss, whine after whine, tear filled moment after tear filled moment! My step-daughter is having the worsted week. To the point where Chuck is ready to snap, and my daughter has a cold so she is cranky and clingy. Chuck's daughter is always clingy, and with him just over it and me sick you can imagine patients is wearing thin. Hope we are all healthy again soon or people in China may hear my head explode over here in the US of A!

Oh and a bonus gripe. I have spent a week or 2 trying to figure out why my phone had stopped typing. I have DROID2 with the keyboard or touch screen option. Neither would let me type more than 1 word at a time before closing a screen. One day in the middle of a blog it just stopped. Turns out if I turn off the auto fill option, it works fine. Who needs a phone who tries to complete your sentences anyway? I mean I get enough of that from Chuck. ;o)

Is Control Controling You?

I have this reoccurring dream. In it I am in a moving car, that is out of control and speeding either in to traffic, or a tree, or cliff, or some other terrifying possible doom. Meanwhile I am in the backseat unable to regain control of the car. Sometimes it is just me and some times my daughter is also in the car. Occasionally, I can reach the steering wheel, but not the break, other dreams I can get to either. It took me years to figure out that that dream meant I felt like I had lost control in my life. The dream started when I was a teenager and involved with and abusive and controlling boyfriend, but continued throughout my adult life as I felt like I was being controlled by my parents, a man, or even a situation.

http://www.ineedmotivation.com/blog/tag/control/



Control (as defined by freedictionary.com)

con·trol (kn-trl)

tr.v. con·trolled, con·trol·ling, con·trols

1. To exercise authoritative or dominating influence over; direct. See Synonyms at conduct.

2. To adjust to a requirement; regulate: controlled trading on the stock market; controls the flow of water.

3. To hold in restraint; check: struggled to control my temper.

4. To reduce or prevent the spread of: control insects; controlled the fire by dousing it with water.

5.

a. To verify or regulate (a scientific experiment) by conducting a parallel experiment or by comparing with another standard.

b. To verify (an account, for example) by using a duplicate register for comparison.

n.

1. Authority or ability to manage or direct: lost control of the skidding car; the leaders in control of the country.

2.

a. One that controls; a controlling agent, device, or organization.

b. An instrument or set of instruments used to operate, regulate, or guide a machine or vehicle. Often used in the plural.

3. A restraining device, measure, or limit; a curb: a control on prices; price controls.

4.

a. A standard of comparison for checking or verifying the results of an experiment.

b. An individual or group used as a standard of comparison in a control experiment.

5. An intelligence agent who supervises or instructs another agent.

6. A spirit presumed to speak or act through a medium.

Seems to me that control is the bottom line in so many of life's conflicts and dilemmas. We fight for control of our children's behaviors and environment, our finances, our weight, our health. We become increasing frustrated when things in our life move beyond our control.

When our health goes in a direction we don't like and can't be improved or the cause is unknown, many people become depressed or angry. I am experiencing this now. Likewise, when your children are displaying behavior that we don't like, or choosing friends we don't prefer, though it is for their own good, we try to control that behavior, or exposure to the undesirable friend. When this fail we become angry, frustrated. We try yelling, bribing, reasoning, but the bottom line is that they are separate little people, with separate minds, and desires. While that is a good thing, something we even encourage, independent thinking and a strong sense of self, as a parent it is frustrating when we are trying to keep our children safe and set good boundaries for them. It is a hard line to walk at times. I think every parent has stepped over that line in an effort to exercise their parental authority, because they feel challenged by their child. Usually, ending in a crying child and upset parent. Again, not an easy line to walk.

Some of us want to control EVERY thing around us. Feeling like letting go of that control makes us vulnerable, able to be taken advantage of. Others, can not function without controlling their environment, maybe because they are easily distracted or forgetful, maybe they are OCD, maybe they just can't function in clutter. Whatever the reason control is often a huge issue in the work place as well. My co-worker is SO in need of control that he often takes over when someone else is talking to the owner, or a customer. He also keeps copies of pricing guides or memos at his desk that we all need access to, so that he always knows where they are. It annoys the rest of us, and with a boss that also is extremely disorganized and at once tries to micro manage parts of projects, while over looking other parts, it often makes for a disorganized and unproductive day full of just trying to chase down the materials you need.

In the end, one must learn that you can not control the actions of others, and the hard you try to, the harder you make things for yourself. People don't change the things they don't want to change, no matter what age they are. Pushing them usually only leads to hurt feelings between you both. Many of life's situations can not be changed either. You can't control the car breaking down, someone getting sick unexpectedly, that bill you hadn't counted on, the tree limb that fell on you garage, or a change in plans because of the weather. Often the more things you try to control the more things that feel out of control to you. Until you find yourself constantly trying to change what is not changeable, trying to make every situation into what you WANT it to be, instead of excepting what is. There is article after article about the key to happiness being the ability to let go. It is such a simple concept, not giving up, but knowing what can and can not be done. Why is it such an unreachable thing for so many of us? Why is it so hard to see when you are making your own life more difficult than it needs to be? How do you let go? Is it will, faith, Zenism? How doe you keep your need for control from controlling your life?

Rant

Okay, ok I admit it! I have been in self pity mode a lot lately, and today,  today is another one of those days. Actually, it is not so much self pity as much as it is an overwhelming hatred of my current life. (Notice I say current) I know I have things to be thankful for and blessing that other people don't have, but right now I am pissed of and in need of a good rant. This seems to be a more appropriate place than say...work, so bare with me while I let fly a bit. Here is the short list of crap I am sick of:

First I am pretty sure if I was a horse, someone would take me out back and shot me rather than pay my vet bills. Vicodin warranting pain for over a week now with little relief. Getting worse when ever I eat or move around too much. No that in and of itself is freakin annoying, as are the plethora of medical test I have had to have to try to diagnose the cause of pain, but to add injury to insult (or insult to injury, I always forget which way that goes) the last time I had this pain they took an organ and I am still in pain! That wasn't the first time they cut me open for this either. That was surgery #2 and guess what, I STILL don't know what's wrong with me! Now for an added twist they think something might be wrong with my kidneys (hopefully not) as well as whatever digestive issues they think I have. I am so tired of being tested, poked, prodded and having NO answers at the end.

Then there are the girls. Both sweet, kind hearted little girls who have NO idea how to live together or share my attention. One because she has spent the last 6 years as a fairly spoiled only child (that would be my daughter) and the other because she has never had someone pay so much attention to her and is still constantly (and I mean CONSTANTLY) vying for your attention, even if she already has your attention. They are constantly bickering over toys, talking over each other, whining that one is getting something the other is not, and arguing over who sits in my lap. Never mind the fact that NEITHER of them can actually sit on my lap because I am in so much friggin pain.

Chuck and I are constantly having heated conversations about everything. We are both continuously on empty both physically and emotionally. He is permanently on the defensive and I swing between wanting to disappear and wanting to scream until somebody listens to me. Mix that with his ADD and my being drugged for pain constantly. Its not good. Tonight my daughter said "Oh no you don't love Chuck anymore. You argue all the time now. So you are not going to get married and he is going to leave, and Sally won't get to live with us any more. Oh no, oh no." (Sigh) while I am trying to explain that's not true Chuck is saying "I'm not arguing with anyone." Ahhhhhhhhhhhh

Then there is money. We have WAY too little of it, and have not been good...ahhhh never mind I lost my Rant now.

My Little Sun Shine

I do have to say there is a bright side to my weekend, even though I have spent much of it in pain and feeling like puking. After all the worrying about adding Chuck's daughter, Sally, to our family, and the frustration of such a big change, it seems to be coming together now. Her behavior has changed dramatically since she first came. There are less fits. At her re-evaluation last week they told Chuck she is a whole different child, and agreed to begin weaning her of the anti-psychotic medication she's been on. We are finally getting some help from behavioral health professionals here in the house, and she has gotten in to a pre-K program to help her get ready for school. But the best feeling of all is that she seems to be really bonding with us as a family, and really happy to be here. My daughter is visiting her father this weekend and while we all miss her (Sally included) it has given me some time to really focus on Sally and talk to her. We have gone to lunch with Chuck, colored, watched movies, gone to visit friends and all the while we talk. (She is QUITE a talker tee hee) I use this time to ask her about her mother and how she feels being away from her. We chat about her visiting her mother's family soon and how she feels about seeing them then coming back here. About how many times she has moved in her four years, and how she didn't like that. I tell her over and over how we are a family and this is her home. How we will make sure sh has her own bed and room. How we will keep her safe and how we will be her family until she is big enough to have her own family. We talk about about not getting our own way, and working as a family, and how disappointments can be hard. She seems to understand me. I try hard to understand her. The way we relate to each other makes me feel good. The way I am able to calm her down when she throws a fit, and the way she holds on to me tighter when she is scared, makes me feel like I am good at taking care of her, like I am making a difference for her. She is (next to my little girl of course) the sweetest damn thing I have ever met, and I want her to have the love, self confidence, family, and life she deserves. More, and more I feel like I, like we, can give her that.

What Is Wrong With Me?

A few years ago I started having this pain in my abdomen. At that time they put me through a a bunch of tests. I had blood tests, multiple ultrasounds, an MRI, upper GI scope, colonoscopy and after each one the doctors would say "we found xyz, but we don't think that is what is causing your pain." Finally, my OBGYN said he thought I had a cyst on my right ovary. He did laproscopic surgery, but once he was in there, couldn't find it. He said it may have burst and sent me home. Off and on the pain returned I would try to ignore it or get some pain meds to help until it lessened. Then a few months ago, wham, it was back and it was worse. Chuck convinced me to try going to the ER. There they found some questionable things, but no diagnosis. They told me to follow up with my primary care doctor. I went to my primary care doctor fully expecting to be poked and prodded again only to end up with no answers. Instead, she sends my to the ER to be admitted to the hospital and have my pancreas and gall bladder tested. Three days later I am having my gall bladder removed. I was actually pretty damn happy about it. FINALLY an answer. FINALLY a resolution. Ahhhh but there was a but, BUT because you don't have gall stones we can only say there is a 70% chance it is your gall bladder. Well, 70% sounds pretty damn good. For weeks post surgery I analyzed every little pain I had. Finally, feeling it was ok I let my guard down. Gall bladder gone, some mild digestive issues left, but over all, relief...Until about a week ago. The pain is back. I spent a full day a the ER getting nowhere, again. Called my PCP and have been hopped up on prescription pain meds for several days. I had another ultrasound yesterday and go in for the results tomorrow. But the frustration, and disappointment at having to start this process all over is unbelievable. Not to mention the effects of narcotic pain medication on someone who already deals with depression. I feel broken and like a burden on my already strained family. And I begin to wonder, is this all in my head? Am I so stressed and sick I have pain for no reason? And what do I do with that? I really hope I find some answers soon.

Just Us

<p>As much as I want to be educated about my mental health, Chuck's mental health, the girl's mental health, and how all of it effects our family, some days I just want to forget any of us have an issues. Not that I want to ignore problems, more that I want to just be us, in whatever form that takes. We are constantly talking about it in our house. There are regular counseling, psych doc appointments, article reading...It wears on me. Right now I am having issues with my physical health also, which makes me even more worn down. I feel frustrated, and like it would be nice to just be a "normal" family. Just for a night, or a day. To not have to talk about meds, behavior, moods, and just be us. I think it would be nice for us all. No reading, no analyzing, no talking about what's "wrong" with us. Just spending time together, enjoying each other, and having fun.

My Favorite Jem

Inspired by bat crap crazy today I have been thinking about friends. Girl Friends specifically and how I would not have made it this far without the friends I have. Now there are people who come into your life for a reason and then you grow apart or go your separate ways. There are friends who cycle in and out of your life. Sending love, and some laughs your way from time to time. Then there are the kind of friends who (as they say) know everything about you and love you anyway.


I have a really great group of friends. They support me through the depressed times, they offer me a hand when I fall down, a glass of wine when I need it, a shoulder to cry on, some perspective, even helped me get all the basics covered when we got the surprise call from child services. Each of them brings a certain strength to our friendship, ALL of them have a FABULOUS sense of humor, and I am constantly amazed by how strong and supportive they are.

http://fineartamerica.com/featured/girl-friends-jerry-l-barrett.html

Today though I am missing one friend more than I can say. She up and moved halfway across the country about 2 months ago. She is one of those 1 in a million friends. She and I connect on a different level. She knows all my faults, and all the stupid things I have done in my life (ok well most of the stupid things). In spite of all the craziness in her own life she always has time for me.We both talk too much, and have a warped sense of humor. We dye our hair funny colors, pierce things, and get tattoos as therapy (sometimes together). She is an amazing artist, and has the same type of life philosophies that I do. We can talk about our less than perfect mental health.  I can cry (literally) to her, and she will just listens when I need her to and offers suggestions where she can. We both have partners in life that have metal illnesses, allowing to talk to each other without worrying about being judged. I got spoiled by having her in my life and only a 20 minute drive away. About 3x a month we would catch up with each other. It often took hours, and several drinks, to fill each other in on our lives. We once even had a slumber party with my daughter involving movies, dinner, ice cream, and A LOT of talking. We had pedicure dates, pizza night, and trips to the mall. I even made she and her husband chick pea soup one night. We leaned on each other a lot, I guess even more than I realized because the last few months I am feeling lost without her, and I have needed her. With all that is happening with Chuck's daughter coming and my depression worsening, I have missed my friend. And I know she has missed me as well. She is trying to adjust to a new community, far away from her family. Her husband has been struggling with all the changes and has been sick again because of it. We keep in touch as best we can via Facebook, text, email, and phone calls, but it is not the same. It is hard to have a drink with a friend who is 12 hours away! I miss being able to say, "I need to get out, whacha up to?" and meeting her an hour later. I miss curling up on her couch for long talks, and going for walks with her and her dog. I miss giving her a hug, or her giving me one. Most of all I miss having someone who I never have to hide anything about myself.I am not sure if she knows, but her support has been influentially in keeping me grounded and stable, and I am definantly seeing a difference in myself without her here. Being able to be completely relaxed and at home, without feeling judgement. She just gets it, no matter what it is, and I love her for it.

Purple Elephants

So Chuck has accused me of liking funky things just to get back at my family, who is very into having a good appearance to the outside world. Truth is, I spent a lot of years trying to live up to their standards. It never worked out for me. Partly, because no one could be as perfect as what they wanted, partly because it just wasn't me. So yeah, I have tattoos, piercings, and now purple hair, but not to annoy them or to needle them in anyway. More because it is a way of connecting with myself. A way of expression, and a way of reminding myself that I don't have t be perfect. I don't have to look like everyone else. I don't even have to look the way other people think I should look. It is ok for me to be whoever I want.

Sadly, I left the hair salon feeling good. Liking the new brightened, up funky me. As I put on make-up and got ready for dinner with my family I was already plotting what "excuses" I was going to give my parents about the color of my hair. AT dinner I found myself explaining how I did not really mean for it to be so bright, how I let my stylist choose the color. All of this was true, but the truth is I kind of like the color. Makes me feel bright and funky, more like an artist and less like soccer mom. Sometimes just being around them, always feeling like someone is judging me, always feeling like I have to answer to them, even though I am in my 30s brings me down in and of itself. Sometimes though I feel sad for them though. They have two amazing daughters who they will never see for who they REALLY are. Never see how talented, smart, fun, creative, and brave we are. Brave enough too be what we believe in instead of what we are told to be. Choosing instead to believe us to be only a good or bad reflection of themselves. So they hate my tattooed body, and my purple hair because other people may not like it or may think I am strange. They cannot even see the person under the purple hair. The person THEY created. I will keep my purple hair (at least until I need a new pick me up) and there will probably be more tattoos because I need to stay in touch with the part of me who loves things that are different just so I can continue to believe in myself, my creativity, and my belief that you can be whoever you want in this world.

I Don't Know

One of the things I find the most frustrating about my depression is constantly have to answer the questions "What's wrong with you?" "Why are you so upset?" "Are you ok?" "Why are you crying?" Let me see. What IS wrong with me? Why AM I so upset? There is a lot of stress in my life right now, but the plain and simple truth is that I DON'T KNOW what is wrong with me. I DON'T KNOW why I am so upset. I am ok, but I am not good, but I do know there is no amount of advice you can give me to change that. Yes, I understand it sounds strange, but no I DO NOT know why I am crying. It reminds me of when my cousin was little and would get in trouble. When my aunt would be upset he would ask "Mommy happy?" "She would reply, "Nooooo mommy is sad." And he would say, "No mommy happy. Mommy happy" as though if he believed hard enough he could will her to being happy again. Even Chuck, who understands what depression the illness and not the mood is about, after seeing me down for so long, begins to say things like "Why aren't you happy, Honey?" Or "What's wrong baby? Cheer up. I love you. Doesn't that make you happy?" Well, of course I feel happy to be loved, but that doesn't mean I feel happy at that moment. I know he means well, and I know my friends are concerned about me. BELIEVE me if I knew why I was so sad, or what would make me happy I would be all over it. Just like my cousin with my upset aunt, no amount of someone else wishing happiness upon me will help me either. I am depressed clinically depressed. I mean I guess technically I DO know what's wrong with me. What's wrong is the chemicals in my brain are different than those of a "normal" person's brain; therefore, I have to take a medication to alter the chemicals in my brain in order to feel better. Because of this deficiency I am not able process stress and anxiety the way other people do. That does not make it easier to live with, nor does it make it easier for other people to watch me go through. But it is a road I have traveled before, and a road I am sure I will travel again. It is a road with a lot of peaks and valleys, and THAT is all I know.

Emmett Kelly (the sad clown)

I love Emmett Kelly.

I had a great, great, great aunt (my grandmother's aunt) who loved Emmett Kelly, and I, well, I adored my aunt. She was kind, and strong, and still living on her own in the city well into her 70's or 80's. When I graduated high school, my grandmother gave me the Emmett Kelly collectors doll I had loved to look at in my aunt's room. I later got an Emmett Kelly snow globe (I collect snow globs...weird I know) and wall art. My love of Emmett now seems some what foreboding to me. Maybe, I was drawn to him for more reasons than my affection to my aunt. Maybe, even back at the age of 7 or 8, I knew I would someday live as a sad clown too. These days it seems to be raining more often than not. I really don't want to be "one of those" people. You know, the kind my mother said "no on likes to be around negative people" about. When my depression and anxiety sets in, it usually plays out something like this:
I buck it, try to through it off. Keep myself too busy to think. I look for quick fixes, a new hair style/color, new tattoo, purse, clothes...distractions. That inevitably fails. So I move into stage 2. Generally, this is the discontented stage. I begin saying "I think I am depressed."  I begin to HATE everything in my life, my job, my house, my bills, my appearance, my over all life path. I look for something to change about my life. Again, FAIL. So I move into stage 3. This is the PISSED OFF STAGE. I now HATE my life and am ready to tell anyone who will listen. I am also ready to argue with, yell at, cry about anyone who I see as making me MORE miserable, even if it is just for that moment. Some times this stage begins to move in to rages, sometimes not. After this stage though I am generally at least a month into the deeper end of my depressive state, and between the bucking and the anger I am tired. Bringing on Stage 4, the exhausted crying. After that, it is usually a short trip into stage 5, where I become so warn out and warn down that I just give up and give in. I begin saying things like "I am having a really hard time right now." and a lot of "I don't care" "It doesn't matter." Oh and if you get and "I'm fine" that is a SURE sign I have just given up. This is where I am now, although just for fun this time I seem to be repeating stages 3-5 over and over. There is a certain peace that comes with stage 5. I have given in. I will readily admit there is a problem that I can not control. I am no longer beating my head off a brick wall trying to make myself be something I am not. The anger has simmered down, and I am no longer hysterical. I also am no longer seeing life with and excitement, joy, or optimism. Now, normally there is a step 6. In step 6 I pull myself together enough to engage again. work through things through therapy, and the support of friends. Or some life change happens and I begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Once there is a ray of light, I can bounce back pretty quickly, especially with the support of Chuck and time with the kids. This time is different though. While I am continuing to keep pluggin' along, the light doesn't seem to be coming. Maybe it is because, Chuck is also struggling and is going through a med change so we have had a hard time connecting. Maybe it's because there is just SO much going on that I can't keep up. Maybe this is just a really bad...I don't know what you call it depressive episode? Maybe the emotions are just THAT deep this time that it is taking longer for me to resurface. But I am beginning to worry. I wonder how long I can keep going this way.

Couple acticles I found interesting

mental illness or personality traits

never good enough

I thought both these articles were good to share both for the mentally ill partner and for those in love with someone ill.

Ok Anger Just You & Me

This is the article from my last blog. Lets see how this goes.

 

What Is Anger Trying To Tell You About Your Life?

By Gabrielle Gawne-Kelnar
 (LOVE the Pic)
Anger. It’s got a pretty bad reputation. And we’re often told what to do with it: be careful with it. Suppress it. Vent it. Override it. It’s like anger’s some kind of volatile, toxic force to be harnessed or defused.
But maybe there’s another way of looking at it altogether.
Maybe you can actually learn from anger. Listen to it. See what it has to tell you. Get curious about it.
The sticker in the photo (above), in a cleverly vandalised train carriage I travelled in recently, has another suggestion for how to respond to anger:

“If anger is present
rove to another age”

So let’s take another look at anger for a moment.

When was the last time you felt angry? Well last night Seething. Really hot and bothered. Maybe you were even having those pretend conversations in your mind with the other person (your “enemy” for that moment), setting them straight with devastating wit or eloquence.
Remember that? Very Clearly
And now, instead of being drawn down into the detail of whatever lit your fury at the time, just try sort of stepping back for a second. See what happens if you ask yourself something like:

• What’s this anger trying to tell me? That I am completely overwhelmed and exhausted by this situation? And I am scared.
• Or what’s missing in this picture for me? A sense of feeling important, appreciated. A sense that my needs and feelings are AS important as the rest of my family, and a sense of safety. I think the 2 go hand in hand for me.
• What would resolve this for me – and why? To hear some supportive loving words, because I am working very hard to make sure EVERYONE else is making this transition as smoothly as possible, but no one sees that.
• What do I actually need right now? Love and support. A place to feel safe. No angry words.
• What’s this really about for me? For me it is often about not feeling validated, important, or seen. I really want Chuck to just see how hard I am trying and how much I am struggling right now.

And, as the sticker suggests, maybe another good query to ask is:
How old am I right now? What age do I feel inside?
For maybe your anger isn’t just about this one isolated event. Maybe it relates back to a specific incident, or a whole string of them, that you previously experienced. Or a pattern of some kind that started decades ago. Or maybe it’s simply exposing or tapping-into the vulnerability or hurt or lack of control you may have felt when you were young.
So what age are you in the heat of the moment? Hummmm...Last night I would have to say I did well and stayed in my 30's. Walking away and or tell Chuck to leave me alone rather than throwing a fit. Earlier this week I was clearly a 5 year old throwing a temper tantrum.
And what psychological or emotional age might put you in the best position to start resolving this problem? Would you be older? Younger? Younger Maybe it’s possible to consciously “rove to another age” and draw on things like your adult negotiating skills, your experience of self-soothing, and your fully-grown sense of agency and personal power. Or maybe you want to invite a younger sense of play. I need to have an inter sense of self importance and self love to draw from in moments when I feel others are paying me lip service. I will never be heard if I am screaming at the top of my lungs the way I will be heard if I am calm and patient. I need to feel like I am safe from angry, hurtful words, but I must also then stop using them myself. (easier said then done)
Of course, it can be a big ask to do any of this stuff in the heat of the moment. So it can also be worth coming back to that moment again later. To do some investigating after the fact. To practice.
So that next time anger’s upon you, you’ll have a better chance of really choosing your response – a response that brings you closer to resolving what hurt you in the first place – rather than just being captive to a knee-jerk reaction that often just keeps the damage going.
And maybe that’s another vital lesson which anger can remind us of – that we have choice. Right there, when all your buttons are being pushed, is exactly the time that something you really value is usually centre stage. So, in a way, anger is like a signpost, pointing directly to the moments, the values, that matter most to you. A signpost reminding you of your choices.
And, if you can learn to really see anger like that, with all its invitations and lessons, it’s actually a pretty amazing thing – at any age Pretty amazing way to look at it. In order to view anger in this way, I think you must first have a greater amount of mindfulness of emotion over all then what most people have. You must be able to KNOW your buttons are being pushed and begin to separate yourself from the emotion of the moment. Perhaps that is more possible the farther away from the angry moment you get, but i think most people automatically switch in to "old brain" or "fight or flight mode" when their values or safety is threatened. So how does one cope with that? How does one fight through that old brain thought pattern in order to start a new pattern? THAT is what I need to find now. Plus, everyone feels anger. Like I said I feel it is more what you DO with that anger that makes a difference in your life. So what is my release? How do I not let that angry build inside me?

Ok below are the texts I later sent to Chuck explaining the way I was truly feeling without the hurt and anger:
 I am not trying to fight here honestly
That is the last thing I want, but there is stuff going on with u that u can't see clearly right now
I am worried
U r not urself and maybe its the meds I don't know but
Remind me of an injured animal who is scared and lashing out trying to protect itself
I don't know how to keep myself together
It reminds me of the last time I ask u to go to your sister's and I am really scared
Really scared

So that was the truth. The truth is Chuck and I have been through A LOT and we have not always handled it well. Some times the Adderall makes him more aggressive, and some times my feelings get hurt by his straight forward nature. Sometimes his feelings get hurt by my sarcasm, and this has lead to some pretty explosive fights. And because I have been emotionally abused in the past, that is always where my mind goes. I am always fighting to make my importance known, and so is he, which makes us less visible to each other. Each of us willing to push just a little harder to get the other to notice, eventually someone pushes too hard. Each time that happens we ware away a little more trust, making the breaking point that much closer with each fight, and making it that much harder to back down, back up, and repair with each fight. So I guess the "sign" my anger was pointing to was self value and how I need to find some before I can expect to have value to others. I'm sorry Chuck. I hear you Honey.

AHHHHHHHHHHH I AM ANGRY

I realized yesterday that much of my life, and mood lately has been based on anger. As has much of Chucks. Not even angry with each other, though there has been some of that, but anger at his ex, anger at the situation, and anger at the "unfairness" of life. Yesterday I sent 16 text messages in a 10 minute time spand to my BFF. All of them in tirade form. Here are a few snippits (please keep in mind, especially if you are Chuck that I was venting to a friend)

My comments About Chuck:

 Omg! Omg! Omg! They took chuck off his meds and I am ready to kill him! My dog 
hit her head and there is blood on it

We ran out of gas this morning on the way to work. Then he was late picking me 
up and I am STILL not sure y he had to drive me in the 1st place

 I walk in the house all 3 of them talking at once and I ask chuck why the front 
door is unlocked and he says "here honey come in here"

So I go in the kitchen and he says " let me help u out. Here ya go" and hands me a frying pan

 I think he was joking but I nearly kicked his ass

My comments about Chuck's ex:

I am so fucking sick of thinking about this woman

So fucking sick of hearing about her

So fucking sick of debating what's wrong w/ her

Where is she? What is she doing? Is she high?

What did she do to the kids?
 
Since chuck and I met off and on over and over
 
Well now girly is safe so who fucking cares what she does? Where she is? Y does 
this still effect MY day to day?
 
 
While I am not the kinda girl who is afraid to throw the occasional f bomb,
I would not consider myself the kinda gal who curses like a sailor. Yet
 I am finding that word entering my vocabulary more and more. No other 
word seems to allow me to express exactly HOW agitated I am, truly.
Between the Adderall, the actual 
stress of the situation, and his PTSD Chuck is...well...last night I 
compared him to an injured animal that has been backed into a corner. He
 is defensive, and scared all the time. It makes it hard to talk to him 
reason with him, and knowing he is already feeling upset, I don't want 
to then dump all my angry feelings on top of his. He is switching to 
Ritalin today, and we are hoping that helps lessen the aggression and 
agitation he is experiencing, as well as, bring down his overall anxiety level. We have seen a difference as he has tapered hid dose down.

Now I believe that there is more 
than one type of anger. There is the type that pushes you, moves you to 
do more, make changes, move forward, grow. It is warranted, it is 
legitimate. It motivates you make the world, your world better. It 
empowers you. Then there is the type of anger that holds you down, 
weighs on you, and keeps you stuck in a continuing downward spiral. This may start as legitimate, but then take on a life of its own. This anger is locked inside you burning, eating away at you. So the question becomes what will you do with your anger? This
 is what I struggle with the most. I am so convinced from my past 
experiences that I have no voice, that no one care, and that my feelings
 don't matter that I don't know what to do with intense feelings when I 
have them. That in and of itself makes me angry and I begin to fester, 
until my mind and body can no longer subdue it and I explode, but then I
 just feel ashamed, out of control, and crazy. And on top of that 
whomever I am angry with, will never hear me when I am screaming and out
 of control, making whatever legitimate hurt they may have caused 
secondary to my current actions, which in turn (at least in my slightly 
maladjusted thought process) re-enforces to me that my feelings are 
unheard, illegitimate. Now I am stuck. While, in the beginning I may 
have been trying to use the anger to move myself forward, I have now 
made it into a my own downfall. 
Today I found this blog/ article on
 PsychCentral, complete with a link to a page of questions to help 
change the way you look at anger in your life.

Therapist-within learning from anger

My Life with an OCD Man

After talking to a close friend about her current relationship, and my past marriage I decided to back up today and take a look at my former life.

Ok so basically there were 3 events that lead to the end of my marriage, though as you know it was not a terribly stable marriage to start with. I don't know if you knew my ex, David, had some OCD behaviors. Door locking, turning the alarm off and on a certain number of times, and obsessive worrying. In September that year we had just moved to a new house in July, our daughter was about 18 months old, and a former co-work of his called about an opening at the company he had moved to, but it was in TX. I had some high school friends in TX, cost of living was slightly lower than where we were. Seemed like a possibility. But then they decided NOT to fill the TX spot, but to open a spot in FL. I do some internet research. FL was MORE expensive than where we lived, we know NO one there, and the new company is not willing to help us go down and check out the city or houses unless David signs a contract. I am saying....all not good signs. But David, at this point has it locked in his head that we are moving, and it is our shot at a better life. So we pay for everything, flights, rental car, food, they do kick in for a hotel but that's it, and we go to FL to look around. We spend about 6 hours a day for 3 days in a rented minivan with a 18 month old looking at houses we can not afford. FINALLY David gives in and we go home. About a week later he comes to me all upset and apologetic. He explains that due to the trip we are now overdrawn by over $300, there is only $20 space left on the credit card and we are out of milk and diapers. Like ooops I screwed up, here it is fix it!

This was not an unusual thing in our house. He had become obsessed with cars, computers, trips whatever seemed like it would make him happy, right then. He would work me, talk to me, show me how it would work, why it was so good, how we could make it fit into our budget, until I would give up and give in. I would wear down bit, by bit. (I should have been stronger)

That was Sept. In November we were booked to fly to his mother's (also in Florida, a state I have never really liked BTW) for Thanksgiving. Like 2 days before we are supposed to leave our daughter (again like under 2 years old) spikes a high fever. Of course, David doesn't want to take time off work to help because he is taking time off for us to go away. I take her to the doctor. They prick her finger and test her and say her white blood cell count is 2X the normal level. She has an infection. So, the next day I have to take her and hold her for blood tests, a cath for a urine test, AND ex-rays. Anyone, who knows me knows 1- that child is my everything and 2- I don't do well with blood and medical tests.The day of the trip is also our follow up at her doctor. We pack up as a just in case, and wait to see what the doctors say. The doctors tell us that her xrays show she has viral pneumonia, that they can not tell us if it is safe to take her on a plane or not, but that they would strongly advise that we put her on antibiotics first. David locked onto getting on that plane, decides we don't have time. As we getting the car and he begins to drive we are supposed to be talking about if we should even still go. I of course, feel like why take the chance, he again has it locked in his head that we ARE going. Instead of discussing it with me, once we are all buckled in he drives to long-term parking at the airport and parks. It is a holiday weekend so there are attendants there to help people and they begin to unload our car. Hide sight being 20/20, I should have left him at that airport and taken my daughter to get her medicines. But I didn't I was stunned by what was happening and while I was furious I got on the plane. I am not sure I will ever really forgive him for that. That is when it became obvious to me that his OCD was no longer affecting just him, or just us as a couple.

The last straw was over Christmas and New Year. David's family being Jewish, my family had always gotten to do Christmas with us. Well this year, his mother decided that wasn't fair and since she had time off work anyway, that she AND her friend from Florida were coming up for Christmas too. I was NOT happy about this arrangement, especially since it had been such a trying Thanksgiving, but we decide that after the holiday our daughter and I will go back home with my family for the week between Christmas and New Year, giving us some time with just my family. Then David will meet us near the half way point New Years Eve and we can all have New Years together. The next day David, our daughter and I would go back to our house and my parents back to theirs. All planned, hotel booked, New Years Eve day David called me. He is in a panic because he has forgotten to make arrangements for the dogs. Of course all the kennels are full, it's New Years after all. I talk to my family we decide we are not going to pay for a hotel for the 4 of us, if David isn't meeting us we will cancel the trip. I give David an earful about how I was counting on this and it was MY family holiday. So he says no, no I'll figure it out. He calls an hour later. He has decided to lock the dogs in a bathroom and clean up their mess later. I, of course, say no way to this and that this is cruel to even do to them. He invites our friend over to have her let them out. The Chow mix bites her. David freaks out, becomes convinced our dog will eat our friends and this won't work. He is also convinced that she is never going to speak to us again. We have an outdoor run. I suggest putting them in it over night with a tarp for shelter on one side. Meanwhile, I say "we are getting ready to leave are you SURE you are coming?" He says he is. An 1 1/2 hours into our trip he calls again. It is storming and David has always had an irrational fear of storms. Of course this storm means that our wooded lot (containing trees that are AT LEAST 30-50 years old) is going to come crashing down on our dogs or the house killing them all. He is not coming. Later that night he decides there is no use sitting home alone on New Years and goes drinking at his bosses. My daughter, my parents and I spend the night in a hotel room for no good reason. We are all in bed by 10. David and I split up by the end of February.

That was 4 years ago now, and it has been a long time since I have told those stories, but even after all this time, after he and I have both moved on, I feel all the anxiety that working around his fears and locked on to ideas caused me. I feel how hurt and angry I was holding my sick little girl on the plane ride to his mothers. I feel how guilty I felt for not being stronger, for not saying "no this isn't right" and sticking by that. I guess those wounds heeled over, but the scars are still evident.

As a side note, David was under going treatment during part of our marriage and was doing really well. After the birth of our daughter, he decided he was doing SO well that he no longer needed meds OR therapy. He hung in there for awhile, but has since begun back sliding and having such high level anxiety attacks that he passed out at work, had to have his heart tested, and was unable to function normal. He is back on the meds, exercising, has lost 35 pounds, and is healthy mentally and physically again. I am proud of him. Proving once again, that mental illness is not something that can be controled by simply ignoring it or trying to will it away.

The Fight

I woke up this morning feeling like I hardly slept at all, though I know I did. Maybe it is the depression maybe it was all the anti-anxiety meds I took yesterday. Whatever it is, it is becoming a regular occurrence. I walk around like everything around me is just happening, like I'm not an actual participant in my own life, more an observer, and an observer who is watching through a fog none the less.

After about 30 minutes and a cup of coffee I begin to become aware of my body, and how it aches. It feels like I have whiplash, but I know there's been no accident. So I begin to retrace the last few days, because this is more than just my normal sore back. It is hard to move. I think about the rage I was in Friday night. I see myself hurling things across the room, pillows, my purse, whatever. I feel myself fighting Chuck as he tried to restrain me some. I wonder how out of control I truly was. I see bruises on my arms that I can't explain and I wonder if those came from me hitting things that night too. I see the scratches on my arms and I remember the day before,  fighting myself. I remember being bent over in the bathroom crying so hard. Every muscle tense and fighting the emotion. I feel my muscles remembering that tension. I remember my head throbbing once I calmed down. The truth is that I was so worked up through a lot of it that I am sure there is a lot I don't remember too. That scares me. What did I do? What did I say? Why can't I control myself more?

Even after all that exploded out of me, I can still feel it bubbling just under the surface. Like a controlled burn. Today as I was frustrated with Chuck over being late to get my daughter from her dad. I had to take more anxiety medicine, and really breath deep as the feelings of anger and rage began to rumble below the surface. I don't want to be a screaming maniac any more. I feel exhausted, guilty,  and small after each time I loss control. Ironically, I began having rages because I didn't feel important or heard. Now each time I have one I feel smaller and less like someone worth listening too.

Uhg I look at myself, my body, how upset Chuck was, and I feel stupid! I have made nothing better for anyone, and now I hurt physically as well as emotionally. I feel beat up in so many ways and it kills me to know I did it to myself. Why do I do this? You would think after 14 years of playing this game with myself I would have figured out a better way to deal with it. Yet it seems every time I start to spiral down I eventually hit the point of no return,  and even if I see it coming. Even if I am aware, and on my meds, and desperately trying to grab hold of something to stop myself from continuing down, I can't stop it. I end up scream, throwing  things and generally acting like the "crazy" person that I so desperately DON'T want to be.

The Upside of Depression

The upside of my depression, is that I begin to just not care so much. So things that may have at one time bothered or upset me just kinda hit me and roll. It makes me a little less likely to get worked up about...well, whatever. It is that kind of a awwww hell what does it matter anyway. Maybe that's the drugs, or a combination. Eitherway, in a strange way there is a certain amount of relief in surrendering to whatever life hands me instead of fighting for something more. I wounder if I fight too hard, fight too much? Should I just give in an let life happen? Would it make life easier? Happier? Would I smile more or just feel more defeated? (Sigh) I wish I had more answers.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1 annnnnnnd Melt Down

I left work feel pretty depleted. I start the car and before I reach the stop sign at the end of the road I have started to cry. I can't seem to stop myself. I drive home the back way in order to avoid the traffic in town. It is slightly longer but I am in no hurry to get back to the house. Yesterday, Chuck had a bad day with his daughter and was not handling it well. I had been fighting another migraine most of the day and was struggling to keep my head together. It all came to a head after his daughter was in bed. (My daughter is thankfully visiting her father.) I flew into a rage. I am ashamed, hurt, and angry and having trouble wanting to face going home. The more I drive the harder I cry. I get to the intersection of my road, I turn away from our house. I search for my Swiss Army knife in my purse. Drive the other way. I feel myself becoming hysterical. I begin to tell myself "it's ok". After a short time I am crying and repeating that phrase over and over out loud now. "It's ok. It's ok.  It's ok..."  I convince myself to turn around. I feel a sense of panic knowing I have nowhere else to go. I put the blade of my knife on my arm. I feel it burn as I pull it across my arm. I don't really cause any more damage than a scratch. I keep crying, and head home. I pull in the driveway, still crying. All at once I stop crying. I just sit there in the car staring first at the yard, then the house, then the yard, and back to the house. Snippets of last night play through my head, along with mounting worries about having to call the landlord about the rent, the tree that fell from our property on the neighbor's garage, and the leaking roof. I begin to cry again. I look at the house again. I make myself get out of the car and walk slowly toward the house. I walk into kitchen and freeze. I don't know what to do. I hear Chuck and his little girl in the next room. I stand there. Eventually, I walk straight through, up the stairs, and into the bathroom. Stopping only briefly to take my anxiety meds. Sitting on the side of the tub I become hysterical again. My head on my knees, the more I try to control it the harder I cry. Chuck comes in asks what's going on? What the hell is wrong with me? I don't answer and cry harder. He starts to ask if I can watch his daughter for awhile. I just continue to cry. I have no idea how long it goes on like this. All I know is my head is beginning to ache and Chuck is getting twitcher by the second. Saying he needs to get out of here for awhile. I come down stairs and sit with his daughter. Chuck hands me a beer. I still have tears streaming down from time to time. I can't control it. Chuck leaves and I sit on the floor while his girl talks to me. She is sweet and tells me how its ok to cry some times. We talk about numbers and toys. Chuck comes back home and tells me to go lay down. I don't argue and just head to bed. I am woken up at dinner time and Chuck gives me more meds. So here I sit sedated, but no longer crying or shaking. I am ashamed. Ashamed of the raging fit I had, ashamed of needing all these meds, ashamed to have hurt myself, and ashamed I have lost control of my emotions. I hate that I don't know if I will be ok tomorrow or not.