Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Monday, June 11, 2012
36 years of pain
Wed is my birthday. I will be 36 years old and I will have spent the majority of those 36 years trying to make people like me, love me, or at least respect me. Hell in some cases I'd settle for just seeing me, me as I really am, without changes, or conditions. Lately, it has all come to a head. I got married to someone my family disapproves of. This new act of disloyalty, as it has been seen, has brought on a fresh bout of rejection, and pain. See, I have know for some time that my parents and sister love me out of family duty, but, for the most part don't like me, or see me as very capable, or strong. While I am sure I have played that roll at times, I am not the girl they think I am. All of my life, I have tried in vain, to find that unconditionalness I want so badly. Romanticly, always choosing the guy that keeps me at arms length. I have battled depression and anxiety for a long time because of this constant feeling of rejection. Lately, it feels as though it is breaking me though, like I am turning into that unstable, easily wounded little girl that my family has always seen me as. I lash out in rage at anyone who reminds me how "unimportant" I am. How unworthy of love, respect, and acceptance I am. Friends, my new husband, even my daughter and step daughter are feeling the after shocks. Afterward, I am ashamed. I hate the way I act, the way I drive people away when I need them the most. I hate myself for giving in, for losing control of my actions and emotions. I hear the voices from the past echo in my head
"you are over reacting"
"you are too sensitive"
"What is wrong with you?"
"it was a joke, knock it off"
"I never know how you are going to interpret what I say to you."
All of it implying I am the problem. I am the one to blame. I have begun to believe it now. I have begun to believe I am out of control, emotionally disturbed, unstable, and at fault. It has eaten away at me for 36 years, and now I am unstable, and I do hate myself. I blame myself, and I am convinced I am not deserving, or able to get the type of love and compassion I crave. I am in an endless cycle of hating myself for becoming the person they told me I should not be....I am weak. I scream and cry like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but in the end, no one comes to comfort me, and I feel less and less important or ok with each tear, and I have begun to fall apart.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Anatomy of a Breakdown
I have been delicately balancing sanity verses insanity, busy verses
overwhelmed, and emotional verses hysterical for several weeks now. Then
I collapse
on the bed, sobbing and gasping for air, then sobbing some more. I am
scared and desperate to get myself under control. Finally, I become numb
and am able to move again. The panic comes in waves now, and without
warning. My mind is spinning and I am overwhelmed by it all. I try to
reach out for help, but the worlds I have fail me, and new words can not
be pulled from memory as my every thought becomes jumbled. I feel like
the weight of the world is upon me, and I am crumbling beneath
all the things that used to bring me happiness. I am angry. I am
scared. I am frustrated. I begin to lash out. My temper becomes short
and I am not able to tolerate noises, and my skin feels like it is crawling. "Why does no one see me? Why does no one help, offer me comfort, offer me safety?"
I am angry with them all, and I am yelling more loudly now, then I am
SCREAMING. It is as though I am sitting helplessly as I watch reason and
ration escape me. And all at once, I am screaming as loud as I can and I
am hitting someone I love. The rage fills me to a degree I can not
explain. My words are full of hate and venom.
I am full rage. "SHUT UP! I HATE YOU! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT
YOURSELF!...." The words escape my lips almost before my head
comprehends them. In my head there are screams of frustration. Screams
of pain, and the overwhelming need to feel loved and important. Yet, yet
I can not stop the rage that is pushes people away. I go to the only
coping mechanism I
have left, and I turn my anger on myself. I begin to cut myself as a
form of release. As the flames begin to die, the anger turns to shame,
and pain, and fear. I begin to sob, and just like the rage, the sorrow
overwhelms me quickly. In no time at all, I am hysterical. The following
day, I feel the physical affects. My arms are cut and stinging, There
are bruises
I don't remember getting, and all of my muscles ache. My head pounds
from the tension and strain of all the emotion. I replay scenes in my
mind and fill with guilt over the things I have done and said. I wonder
what is wrong with me? Why can I not control this? I feel weak and
crazy. I am embarrassed,
and I don't want anyone to know how out of control I am. This is not
me. This is not who I am. I am better than this. I am stronger than
this. Why can't I do this? Why can't I control this? I am terrified now.
I desperate as I am to control these emotions, I am terrified of my own
darkness. I have been done this path before and it made me feel
pathetic and sad. People took pity
on me, or saw me as someone who needed to be handled with kid gloves or
someone who needed to be fixed. I am NONE OF THOSE THINGS and I refuse,
I REFUSE to allow myself to be seen that way. Now, what I ask
myself. I know I can need help. I know I will continue to spin out of
control until something interrupt
my momentum, but asking for help will let other people know I am weak.
So I continue to walk that line of sane verses insane, busy verses
overwhelmed, and emotional verses hysterical, knowing that any little
shift will throw me off balance once again.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Bad night
I though things had changed & I was FINALLY able to see light, but it passed, slowing only to give me some parcels of advice. So I lay here alone, blood on my arm, and tear stained streaks running down my cheeks. God what I wouldn't give for a hug, some love & understanding.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Shakey Ground
I am beginning to show physical signs of my illness. My hands shake and my body is tense and aching. I am taking more medication than I ever have before, and I still feel my foundation crumbling. I have no idea how to prop myself back up. It gets shakier, and shakier each day. I am a single mom, with two jobs, and two pets, and bills, I can't afford to shut down. I can't afford to not function, emotionally or financially. I hold up in the bathroom at work crying, or at home by myself pretending that my stomach is upset so because I can not face any more that day, and I have nowhere else to hide. Still they find me. The people, that demands in my life. They find me no matter where I hide. Needing something from me even when I have nothing left to give. Oh Lord please don't let me fall apart. Please don't let me end up in a hospital somewhere. Please don't let me look week to the people who already think I am not capable of taking care of myself. I am stronger than this, I am more resilient...I hope.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree
I watch my daughter fidgeting in her seat as we go over her spelling words. I see her cover her ears and shake whenever there is a loud noise. I recognized her panicked expressions, her need for distraction, and her heighten sensitivity to what's around her. We do not celebrate Halloween, we DO NOT use auto flush toilets, we avoid masks of all kinds, and until this year tall slides or play tubes were completely out! Every teacher, and several of her doctors have said what I already know. My daughter has an anxiety problem. Since she is only 7 I will not call it a disorder. However, seeing as her father and I having both been diagnosed with, and are being treated for, general anxiety disorder, I feel certain this is not a phase. I see her suffering, feeling genuine fear and anxiety and I want to make it better. I want to fix it for her.
I know all to well how she feels. The crawling out of your own skin feeling anxiety gives you. The butterflies in your stomach over the littlest things. I experience it too, while I have tried to hide my anxiety from her since she was a baby, I know that she sees my reactions, and she feels my tension. The worst part, and the hardest part for me to control, is my heighten sensitivity. The littlest noises, or motions will make me literally feel jittery, nervous, or tense. Oh and crowds, large crowds of people will make me feel like my head is going to explode. So, amusement parks, malls, festivals, concerts, all anxiety ridden for me, and in turn, for her. Once I feel like crawling out of my skin, my sensativity to being touched also increases. I feel so much guilt when my child wants a hug or a snuggle and I pull away. I seats try to explain that mommy is having a hard time right now, or mommy needs some space, but I see her expression drop each time and it breaks my heart. And it breaks my heart to know that some day she will understand EXACTLY how I am feeling.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Mental health days
Just like so many people with anxiety and depression disorders, I can get easily overwhelmed and run down. I push myself to keep going, but ever now and then I just can't. I end up calling in sick and staying home most of the day. But I work for my father who is not always forgiving when I am sick. I end up with a double helping of guilt. One, because I am not physically sick, and two because I have now lied to my father about why I am not coming in.
Do other you take mental health days? Do you feel guiltily when you take a day off work to rest your mind and not your body? Do you think people with mental illness should be allowed to take sick days to rest or deal with their depression, just like people with physical illnesses do?