Want

Sometimes I wish I didn't have to work so hard for everything I want. But I guess that's how badly you know you want something, right? If you're not willing to fight for it, you must not want it that much.

For my mom too

Watch "Ani DiFranco - Joyful Girl (Live '99)" on YouTube

Except the woman in my bathroom mirror can NOT tell the truth from the stuff they say.

Wordless

Lately, I have just not had the words to describe how I feel. I guess that is why I have not been blogging as much. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. Like a shell of myself. Some  days I feel completely wiped out. To emotionally, physically, and mentally tired to even figure out how I feel, let alone express those feelings. I have no ability to focus, remember, process the events around me. My thoughts are all incomplete. Other times, I know exactly how I feel and what I want, but the words will not come. I hear them in my head, but they stick in my throat as it tightens around them. I want so badly to shout them out. I want to wield them like daggers, but instead I swallow hard and keep them inside. It is exhausting and I feel the need for constant distraction from my thoughts. Outwardly, I continually hold back. I am kind to the customer in my store who is being rude to me. I am nonconfrontational to family members who have a VERY different idea of what is best for me. I talk nervously through the awkward silence between my mother and I when she is clearly unhappy with me without telling me what or why she is upset. I wait patiently for the seamstress who has been over booked, only to find out that it is "against company policy" to make my dress as short as I would like. I say nothing when my ex husband offers me $20 toward our daughters school tuition down payment. Each time, the responses in my head become more and more condescending, but they are never uttered out loud. Friends who have been loving and supportive I begin to keep secrets from because I just don't have the energy to explain why I am so depressed. I feel isolated, sad, angry, and tired. My whole body hurts. My headaches and migraines are beginning to become a daily occurrence. All noise seems to cut right through me. My skin seems to be crawling, and I can not sit still for long. I feel it eating away at me. I feel myself avoiding people. Choosing to talk only to a small group of people who I feel completely and totally at ease with. Even good events and feelings I find myself hiding. I dread each day. I don't want to deal with customers, coworkers, my family, anyone, really.

Meanwhile, life continues, like it or not. There are still a ton of things to get done at my job, a new job to prepare for, a child to care for, pets to take care of, and futures to plan. So I continue in silence. The to do list, the money, the anger, the exhaustion, the pain, the happiness, the excitement, all mixed together. I feel like the cluttered junk closet in an otherwise spotless house. Sure come in, make yourself at home, just don't open THIS door and it will all be fine.

Storm Clouds

While sometimes my depression sneaks up from behind and grabs hold of me with a cold, hard grip, sometimes I can see it coming long before it is full blown. Like a dark storm looming on the horizon, each cool breeze blowing it closer.

My last few weeks have been good, not in a mood sense, but in the sense that things are slowly turning around for me. I got a job, not just any job, but a job I am really excited about and that I think I will be really good at. My daughter and I chose a new pet. It's a bunny named Easter. She is friendly, funny, and low maintenance (at least compared to, say... a puppy). I took a week long vacation. Just me and one of my closest friends spending lots of time catching up, eating yummy food, having some drinks, and having all the conversations we have been saving up for each other. I had a parent teacher conference, and my child is doing really well in school, her whole class is ahead of where her teacher has ever been, in part because she had no snow days this year, but that's ok I can pretend. All of these things should make me happy, and truly they do. Yet...clouds. I see the joy in the moments around me and I feel almost robbed by my disorder, because I can not always rejoice in them.

Last week, the dark clouds broke and the rain started to pour down. I spent one full night just sobbing, literally sobbing and wanting to just give up and hide under my blankets for awhile. I am "high functioning" clinically depressed, meaning it has been years since I was so far down that I could not get out of bed, or go to work but weeks of going through the motions, walking around like a shell of a person while trying to figure out how to pay all my bills, trying to make a Easter memories, perfect birthdays, impress perspective bosses, smiling through uncomfortable, or flat out crappy, moments at work and with my mother. I end up taking on so much for other people, more than what they would ever ask of me, and yet no one can help lessen the weight of my own moods and worries. It sometimes feels unfair and it all caught up with me at once. I suddenly felt tired, tired of trying, tired of not being good enough, tired of fighting so hard to change the path I am on, tired of pretending that I am alright all the time, but most of all tired of day to day ups and downs of living with an anxiety and mood disorder. Why am I so damn tired all the time? Emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted ALL. THE. TIME!!! Some days it feels like such a heavy weight to carry around, and I wish it could be lifted off for just a little while and I could have a break. I don't expect life to be easy, and I believe everyone has their cross to bare. I just want a time where I DON'T have to be strong, I DON'T have to struggle, I DON'T have to put "my best foot forward".

There was a time when I struggled with the idea of being labeled as metally ill. I believed it was situational, or some how temporary. Now, now I struggle with how permanent it is. I try to wrap my head around the idea that it is "ok" to feel this way, or that this is something that I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. I try to make sense of how I can not stop the moods, or the dark clouds and rain from coming, even when I see them on the horizon. All I can do is seek shelter, hunker down, and remind myself that I will survive the storm.

Pleasing All The People

I have a mood disorder, and an anxiety disorder, and probably some less than health self esteem. I take things in, I dwell on them, I roll them around in my brain over and over. It overwhelms me and often makes me feel sad. I play out worse case scenarios in my head, and worry about what I have done wrong. It's like having a home movie of your worst moment set on repeat in you brain. That feeling of disappointing, or hurting, someone I care about aways lingering just below the surface. It eats at me, even little things, little easily forgivable mistakes. I take to heart, because upsetting people is NOT what I do. I make people happy. That is what I have spent my whole life doing, or at least trying to do. My father once told me "You mother and I want to give you some money for Christmas, but I know how you are, so you have to promise not to turn around and use it to buy Christmas gifts for us." Because that's what I do. I give everything I have to try to make people happy, in turn making myself happy, feeling and loved.

Except, it never seems to work. In the end, I am often sucked dry, out of money, love, and energy. Left sad, and unsatisfied. It is said that "You can not please everyone." So after all is said and done, it often turns out, that I am sad and someone in my life is STILL unhappy. Feeling like all my time and energy has gone to waste.

Funny thing about sadness, if you hold on to it for too long it can easily turn into anger and bitterness. Spilling out of me in mean little tidbits, or on occasion, firey explosions where I spew ugly words all over, at top volume, with no filter or restraint. There is nearly immediate guilt, and embarrassment from this loss of control and inablity to censor myself. Leading me back, full circle to feeling like a bad daughter, girlfriend, friend, sister, employee...you name it.  And so the movie begins to play again, only with a new scene added to the end, but never the happy ending that I am continuously working so hard to create.

What is "normal"?

This week, at counseling we spent a lot of time on normal, and what is normal. Is it normal to get upset when people move my things? Is my definition of love normal? Is my relationship with my family normal? Is it normal to feel this angry with my ex husband? What is normal, exactly?

Dictionary.com defines normal as:
normal nor·mal
- adjective 1. of standard type; usual - noun 2. the standard or average - Related Forms un·nor·mal - adjective un·nor·mal·ly - adverb un·nor·mal·ness - noun nor·mal·ize - verb

[nawr-muhl]

Origin: 1520–30; < L normālis made according to a carpenter's square

A standard type, usual, average. When you are talking about behavior, or thought process, it is hard to define what is standard, usual, or average. Many of us know what normal behavior is for us as individuals. As in "I don't normally do that". But how do you define usual for others? So much of what we view as "normal" or "acceptable" is defined by your experiences and individual beliefs. For example, in my family, we have large family gatherings, many of which you are expected to attend unless you live on the other side of the country, or are on deaths door. My friends from smaller, or less close families do not understand the this dynamic, and do not see the urgency to attend these events. Does that mean either of us is abnormal, or wrong? No. We are simple from different backgrounds, with different life styles, different circumstances. Yet, it seems so easy for so many people to define abnormal, or crazy. Worse yet, we (or at least I) all too often, view ourselves (or myself) through the lens of someone else's "normal".  That person maybe a parent, a spouse, a friend, or just an image that we have created in our minds based on what we read, see on TV, in magazines, or online. Allowing yourself to be defined by other's ideas of what is the norm, can make "normal" seem unobtainable.

I have allowed myself to be defined by other people's definitions of abnormal and crazy for so long, that I fine myself constantly wondering what normal is. For as long as I can remember, I have been striving to be "normal" and accepted. Since the first panic attack, since the first therapy session, since the first med, since the first diagnosis of mental illness, I have seen myself as broken. So much so, that I seem to have lost track of what is just me being me, and what is a symptom of a larger problem. I have lost the line between quirk and illness. Constantly evaluating, often rather harshly, my own behaviors, and thoughts, to try to figure out if they are "normal" or if they are distorted. Trying to define, in my own mind, what "normal" is and desperately wanting to achieve it. The strangest, saddest part is, that reading the definition of normal from above, I have no desire to be average, usual, or standard. Perhaps I need to remind myself that the next time I find myself longing to be seen as "normal". I saw a Facebook status once that said "Normal is just a setting on a washer." Dictionary.com says it originated as from the word normalis, meaning made by a carpenter's square. Maybe we should have left it at that.

What's are your feelings on normal verses abnormal, illness verses quirks? I'd love some input.

I'm Fine

Sometimes I feel as though depression is my wicked step-sister. Just as I feel like I am going to get to go to the ball, she rips apart the dress the mice and birds made for me, leaving me ragged an alone again. After over a year of having to "overcome" I had several good weeks. I was finding a new direction in my life, and taking real, and solid steps toward new goals. Then, out of nowhere, crying, and not just teary eyes, sobs, full fledged sobs complete with gasps for air in between.

Why? I'm not sure. My first mistake, was letting myself get too tired. Exhaustion, physical or mental, dangle me right on the edge of a meltdown, even if the rest of my world is all roses and sunshine. All it takes is a hard wind to blow me right over the emotional cliff, landed hard on whatever harsh reality waits below.

Second, I have, as usual, been doing the "I'm fine" game. This is a game I have mastered over the years. Sometimes I play it with friends, other times I play it with myself, but most often its both. I'm fine because I need to be strong for my daughter. I'm fine because I don't want to look like you are getting to me. I'm fine because someone I care about has a bigger problem than I do. I'm fine because I have a job to go to, a child to raise, a dog to take care of, work to get done, and a house and laundry to keep up with. I'm fine because I am telling myself I am fine, and that not being fine is just not an option. I, occasionally, convince myself that its true. I look around and think, "Huh, look at that. I feel ok." Right up until I have 5 minutes of quiet, alone with my thoughts. Suddenly, I get hit by an emotional tidal wave and crumb like wet paper.

So I let myself cry. I sobbed, and sobbed until I could pull it together enough to get out of the house. Then I got in the car, and turned up my "angry" music so load I couldn't hear myself singing along any more, and I let myself get really pissed. Pissed at myself, at the people who have hurt me, and just in general. After that, I spent some time just being me with the person who knows me better than anyone else, and that, again, made me cry. I spent a good part of the next day sleeping, recovering from the emotional exhaustion and trying to make up for lost sleep from earlier in the week. But at last, this magical thing happened. I was fine. Not just in words or fine like I'll be fine eventually, but really fine. And the glass slipper fit.