The weight

I’m so exhausted of this weight around my neck… this weight of darkness.  I’d like to say my days have been filled with joy and happiness of the upcoming excitement of my daughter’s upcoming high school graduation, but I simply can’t pull myself from the weight of my own depression that seems to have attached itself from my legs, neck and waist dragging down.  It’s completely relentless.

I just wish there were at least moments I could pull myself above the murky waters above to at least FAKE it, but these days I can’t.  Finding funding for university has proven to be impossible and seeing myself as the parent that can’t provide for my child who has done HER part is such a beating… it’s all just too much.  I can’t escape those old thoughts that being “gone” makes me far more valuable than being here.

The weight…. 

but my daughter deserves a beautiful graduation.

I hate depression.


Dr. appointment 

Oh fun.

Today I’m meeting with my psychiatrist… Not the one who put me in the mental institution.  Not the one who treated me while I was there.  Not the one who had rights while I was in.

He generally has interesting points of view about the whole situation– and not favorable ones.

I have to retell my story & explain why I didn’t call him.  I have to tell him all my symptoms and tell him what was happening.  Yeah… ugh

Can’t wait to hear what he thinks.


Well, it happened again.  

I have major depressive disorder and things haven’t been going so well.  And after months of struggling, I ended up in the hospital again on April 5.  Specifically, I ended up there because I had a plan to end my life and I was struggling with hallucinations.

This time I stopped taking my meds in December because I could no longer afford to pay for my meds,  bills and still buy gifts for my kids.  After our nephew died in November, we needed some happiness and I made the choice to leave meds off the list of needs… and I hate taking them.

January came along and so did more bills.  February offered no more opportunity to get ahead nor did March so I could not afford my medications.  (To be clear, I currently take about 35 pills a day on a “good day” and between 38-44 pills, 2 creams, 2 inhalers & a breathing machine for “bad” days.)  

I did visit my psychiatrist during this time and explain my situation.  He was understanding and he gave me a number to call for a discount and some samples until I could fill my prescription.  Unfortunately, I just couldn’t afford the cost even with the discount… $190 is still too much when money is tight.  So I would take a few pills here and there… a definite no no with psychotrophyics. 

So, by February I had begun to have auditory hallucinations.  They were a bit frightening at first… and sometimes upsetting, but manageable for the most.  But by the end of February, the visual hallucinations began and things got weird.  March brought odd hallucinations of cats, dogs walking in front of my car, people I’d never seen and shadows that scared me senseless more than once.  I could usually talk myself out of the fear and I never lost touch with reality, but things weren’t easy.

By April, I was depressed, struggling to get thru each day, and tired of fighting my own mind.  On the night of April 4, I’d decided to play a game with God.  As it turns out, I lost– or I guess, since I’m here, I won.  That night, I hallucinated again.  It was the only time I saw someone who had passed away and the only time a hallucination spoke to me.  This one time, my nephew was sitting in my living room in his ‘normal spot’.  He asked me why he was in the living room & wanted to know why I had been thinking about dying that night.  I had no answer.  When I put my head in my hands to think, he disappeared.  The next day, I went to my psychologist & turned myself over.

I spent 8 days inpatient and 15 days outpatient at the facility.  I lost almost the whole month of April… from April 5- May 3 from work.  Now,  I also must go to the counselor lead groups on Monday from 6:00-8:00 for the next 12 weeks.  I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and psychosis… go figure.  I was given new drugs, met great new people, lost weight & learned new strategies to work on my life.

This time I wasn’t as angry.  This time I didn’t fight the system & I wanted to learn.  This time I wanted to take something from the groups to make life different.  This time I understand that, no matter how hard I try, how good I am, how much I work, I’ll probably end up in the hospital


Help me, please!

I need HELP.. and answers.

Short and sweet, something is wrong.

I’ve been dealing with PTSD and my incredibly shitty childhood for a while now.  I’ve done an ok job, but I’m freaking out, literally.

I just watched a movie and was SEVERELY triggered. (Girl had a flashback of being molested and, although it was implied, it was obvious).  I felt it coming & tried to leave quickly.

As I walked out, I became very dizzy (as if I were drunk) and very nauseated.  My heart began to pound.  I faught not to dissociate in the lobby… it was horrible.

I’ve had panic attacks, but this just felt different.   Is this a response to being triggered? I just can’t shake it!


Things people Say

Dear lord… sometimes well meaning people can say the most hurtful things without understanding.  They try to make it better, but…

For instance-

God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.”  This, first, implies that God caused the abuse.  Personally, I want to believe God had nothing to do with the years of incest I survived.  In that case, God didn’t ‘give’ me anything, so he doesn’t control that element.

“It’s all in the past.  You have to pick up and move on.”  Pick up and move on?! Oh, like I broke a heel or failed a test?  Don’t you think I WANT to just move forward as if it were some small event? Of COURSE I wish I could.  I’m TRYING! 

Pray about it.  Give it to God.”  I wish.  I mean, it’s not like I don’t TRY.  But, if I were honest, I’d say I don’t always have much faith that God even knows who I am. I’m a Christian.  I do pray & attend church & study the Bible.  But do I believe He takes time to hear me? As for my childhood, I always want to reply with questions.  Don’t you think I prayed every time I heard him turn my doorknob?  Don’t you know how I prayed with tears in my eyes when I felt his hands touch me?  Don’t you understand how I believed I was his plaything because  I wasn’t ‘christian’ enough?  I wish prayer could just fix it… but it didn’t prevent the abuse, so…

I try to understand that people just want to help but just don’t know how.  For the most part, I just don’t share my pain or my ‘story’ because so few truly understand.

I guess that’s why I share here…

It’s been along time…

It’s been a long while since I have written here.  I read often, sometimes comment, often wish I could get my thoughts onto the screen, but I’ve not had the courage.  But I’ve missed this place & the freedom of spilling my thoughts into the blogosphere… even if no one reads it but me.

Things aren’t good.

Things have been low.  It’s been a hard few months that, 2 years ago, would have been the end of me.  But, somehow I live on.

My nephew, the only ‘son’ I’ve ever known, is gone.  He was a vibrant, intelligent, amazing, talented 15 year old young man.  He was such a beautiful soul & was adored by us all.  He was killed in a freak ATV accident on Nov 2 and passed at 7:04 pm.  We were blessed to be there as he entered this world Nov 13, 2000 and honored (as odd as that seems) to be there as he left this world.  How do you support parents who have lost the oldest child and only son when you are doing your damnedest not to fall apart?  I cannot imagine their pain… because mine is unbearable and I didn’t give birth to him.

How does one continue? 

Holidays have always been particularly hard, but this year beats the years of sexual, physical & emotional abuse.  I can bear all the pain you can muster.  I’ll either live or die.  But to know the level of pain they are all enduring– this family I love– is more than I can take.  And so, my months have been filled with hurt, memories, pain, nightmares and moments I have to convince myself not to die because it’s more pain than these loved soul could shoulder.  I’m strong because I had to be.  They’ve not lived that pain & this has been so very painful.

The week after Devon’s death & funeral & memorial I was to see my psychiatrist, Dr M.  I needed that appointment like a lifesaver during a flood, but he was sick & had to cancel.  That was November 16… and the ‘earliest opening’ was Jan 17. As in 2 months to wait– through what is the absolute worst part of the year (even in a good year). This year has been hell.  Absolute hell & I had to make it through without any help… or meds.

But I’ve made it even though there have been multiple times of self-harm, too many suicidal thoughts & a plethora of nightmares &  tears.  I’ll see Dr M on Tuesday, but I’m not sure what he can do to help.  I’m tired of all this, but hold on to avoid the pain I’d cause my daughters, husband & friends who have suffered enough already. 

For now, anyway.

Too much…

Things are changing & im feeling like I’m not able to stay strong.

  • My mother has cancer again and the guilting has started.
  • My job is changing & I’m not certain I’ll be able to meet expectations.
  • My daughters are beginning their Senior, Freshman and 5th grade years  in school & I’m unprepared for the changes.
  • My health is waivering & I feel weak &  tired.  These migraines… Ugh
  • Finances… Money is such an issue & we’ve got so much money going out & not coming in
  • I missed my appt with Dr M in May.  I don’t know what the hell happened, but it will cost $150 and I can’t get in until Aug 30.  I have no med refills, 20 pills & 30+ days to wait.  I email & get no response.

And, to make things unbelievably harder, Dr H is out this week.  It may not sound like a big deal, but I go to therapy without fail EVERY Wednesday at 4:00.  Even on holidays, I go a day earlier or later, but I don’t miss…. Unless she is out.

I know she needs time off to relax, take care of herself & family & stay healthy, but it’s so hard.  No matter how strong I might be feeling, I just seem to struggle more.  

So, here I am trying to keep it together.  It’s been a struggle & will be until next Wednesday. I’m trying to stay harm free & as a normal as I can…

Struggling Again

Just when I think I’ve got this life under control, things slip just a bit & I feel myself falling into darkness.  I can’t seem to apply the brakes and I know it’s coming… the darkness.  It’s right there at the edges of the light and has begun to bleed into all the happy moments. 

And with the darkness comes the pain and the shame.  I’ve been months without falling back to the blade, but the pull now is Painfully strong. I can’t go to the store because I obsess about ‘that area’ and I just can’t tempt myself.  I do my best not to be alone for fear the  time alone will give me opportunities I can’t afford.  

So I lay in bed every night plotting ways to avoid what is coming… Because it just a matter of time.

Wasting time…

Today I had my weekly appt with Dr H.  I’ve had a rough day & don’t feel well, but I went anyway.  I just didn’t want to, but I did.  Unfortunately, I spend the whole time talking about my kids & work & basically avoided anything of substance.  It was weak & very unimportant.  As a result, I feel like I waste my time & hers today.  Now I feel irritated with myself & guilty for wasting time I could have used for real work.

Am I the only one in this boat?