Friday, December 20, 2013

Hurry up Santa

Santa please hurry. I'm not sure how much more of the merriment I can take.

I'm sitting here when I should be in bed but I know when I get in bed my mind will really start to ramble. What's bad is if I can hang on till the holidays are over, then I'll have a whole new fresh year to dread. In this box with no way out and no where to go if I got out.

A hundred years ago I used to do volunteer work with a local suicide prevention group. I was young, maybe 22 when I started. Was even volunteer of the year once for this office through the United Way. Looking back, I HAD NO CLUE.

I know now EXACTLY what those people would mean when they would say, "What's the use?", and what my trite, empty, canned slogans must have sounded like.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Holidays and People in My Boat

Well, it certainly didn't take long for me to come to the conclusion that I am unable to function once the medication is out of my system. I suppose getting the house cleaned was a positive from my little experiment.

Maybe now that it is clean I can keep it that way easier because all the energy I had flew out the window when I went back on the Seroquel. (I am not on as much as before but have a bad feeling that what I am on is not going to be enough.) I was cleaning and cleaning and thinking, "Wow. That Seroquel was really causing me a lot of fatigue." I guess what was really happening was it was keeping the bipolar under control.

Another holiday season is here. Over the past 14 years of mine and my son's estrangement that happened when I left his father, I most of the time have gotten better about the holidays as the years have passed but this year for whatever reason it is hitting me worse than in a while.

Yeah, this is definitely a "worse" year. I can't get my son off my mind. I miss him like I imagine a recent amputee misses a limb. I miss seeing his babies, my grandbabies, who I am no allowed to see. Now my daughter for whatever reason is unable to visit or have me visit because she "needs to feel safe". I haven't a clue what that means. My own father is now upset with me because I am not pushing my daughter about our Christmas get-together we normally have. If she doesn't feel well enough to have me over for visits I'm betting she doesn't feel like the big Christmas thing either.

I know there are so many other people like me out there. People who for whatever reason cannot tolerate the holiday season. Or at least not tolerate it well. Then there are people like me who can put on their mask and even convince themselves that everything is fine. I used to be able to do that.

I hurt for all of you! I cry for all of us who for whatever reason are getting older and missing our children. I'm sad for all of us who can never please our aging, elderly parents and fear that their acceptance will never come to fruition before it is too late. I'll lift you all up in prayer and you lift me up or send me warm fuzzies or whatever it is that you do...Merry Christmas


Monday, October 28, 2013

Three months ago I decided I needed to get off my psyche meds. I felt like I no longer knew who "I" was. I had no energy and between that and the constant pain, I had to do something or make some kind of change. I was on Seroquel (300mg), Prozac (20mg) and Nortriptyline (50mg).
(I had recently been on 400 mg Seroquel but we had dropped it to 300mg a few months ago.)


We started with the tapering of Seroquel. I was on 300 mg so my doc had me taper to 200 mg for one month, then 100 mg for one month, and this week is my first week off all of it completely. (In the midst of tapering the Seroquel, I realized one day I had not taken the Prozac for about 10 days. I had run out and forgot all about it since there were still other pills in my little pillbox. So I just never took it again. The doc is not going to like that since we were specifically wanting to do one at a time so we could catch changes and know to which drug to attribute it to. It was an accident however.)

When I dropped the Seroquel to 200, I couldn't tell any difference at all. None. When I dropped to 100 mg, I FELT IT! I have more energy than I have had in years. (So now I actually WANT to clean my house and yard but my pain level hasn't changed, lol ...thankful but frustrating to have the energy and the 'want to' but having to stop every few minutes to ease the pain makes it slow going.)

I love the energy. I love the "want to" that I have now. I have even started back thinking about writing again. I am cooking more complete, better balanced meals. There are a couple of negatives however...ANGER being one. I get so angry at the drop of a hat. The least little thing sets me off. The least little thing makes me want to scream at someone (I wouldn't). Driving has once again become a fighting sport (only verbally & from inside the car with my windows rolled up). I have apologized to my poor husband a million times in the last month. Things I had taught myself years ago not to fuss about all of a sudden get on my VERY LAST NERVE! And where he had become accustomed to not having to put things away when he was done with them, now all of a sudden in our clean house he better NOT lay something down and walk off.

Aside from the anger the only other negative (so far) is I CANNOT SLEEP!!! I was afraid of the depression bounding back. I never even considered something like anger coming back. (Is that the bipolar?)

On the one hand my house is cleaner than it has been in years. I'm talking closets; cabinets; drawers and bookshelves! I'm talking THROWING STUFF OUT!!!  On the other hand I am so mad I can't stand myself sometimes. Conundrum...Conundrum...Conundrum...

I believe I can learn to control the anger and lessen it somehow. I suppose I can work with the sleep problem and maybe stay up later and get up earlier rather than lay there trying to sleep when I can't. I'd rather deal with those two than go back to feeling like I did 2 months ago. I assume at some point I will need to attempt to deal with some depression (?). I mean I have been on medication for depression since 1992 and still had problems every 1.5 - 2 years requiring some adjustment or addition to the meds. I just know I HAD to try. I have to see who I am without the meds. I just have to.

Friday, August 09, 2013

Some days, no matter how hard you try, you just can't empty your brain of the bad stuff.

Monday, June 10, 2013

A Visit to the Shrink

I see my shrink on a semi-regular basis. It is good for the cause – cause I need to stay on my meds or I get a little “off”.

Each time I see the doc, I am supposed to be seen by the nurse as well because two of the meds I am on cause weigh gain and can cause diabetes. Each visit, the nurse checks my weight and my blood sugar.

Last week during my visit, when the doc was finished with me, I reminded him I was supposed to see the nurse as well. He was surprised I had not seen her yet. I suppose the nurse is supposed to see you before the doctor, (which makes sense – in case a med needs to be changed or further tests run depending on the results of the test results).

At the end of each visit, the doc walks you to the front desk and tells the secretary when to set up the next appointment. This time, he also told her I would need to see the nurse before I left.

After she made my next appointment, the secretary looks up at me and says, “So you didn’t see the nurse before you saw Dr. Shrink?”

“No ma’am” I replied.

“Are you sure?” she asked me, looking me square in the eye.

“I think I’d remember…” I said.

Phew.

Folks, just because I’m crazy, doesn’t mean I’M CRAZY!!!

 
(For the politically correct folks that may be passing through – if there are any of those on my “friends” list – I can say the word “crazy”. I have put in my dues for 19 years now and I have learned to laugh about it otherwise all that is left are tears.) J

Tuesday, May 14, 2013


(If the idea of my using very vulgar language bothers you, please go away and read something on another day. Today, for me, is just about hanging on. On days like this the vulgarity that some days seems to match my life just has to come out.)
 
I am so tired of feeling this way. I am tired of reminding myself of reasons I need to just hang on and hope it goes away. I am tired of the guilt. I am tired of the shame. I am tired of all of the shit that goes on and on and round and fucking around in my head.

I am tired of being lonely. I am fucking tired of needing to feel someone’s body against mine and feel their arms around me. I was not made to go without the physical aspect of who we are as human beings. I am tired of being faithful when it would be so easy to find someone, anyone, to hold me and make love to me for a few minutes.

I am tired to DEATH of seeing people on TV joke about how their man wants sex all the time. I am tired  of trying to talk to him and him acting ignorant and pretending he doesn’t “understand”. WHAT THE FUCK IS THERE TO UNDERSTAND??????????? Lie beside me in the fucking bed and touch me. Kiss me. Fuck me.

I am so tired of this earth. I wish so badly that I could just go on to Heaven without it hurting anyone. If I could make that happen I’d go today. RIGHT FUCKING NOW I’d go! This shit just isn’t worth it. I lost everything. I gave up everything. I lost a child. I gave up financial security. I gave up a paid for home. I lost my parents respect just a bit. I lost friends; or what I thought were friends. I even feel like I lost my self. When you’ve lost a part of yourself, there is no fucking reason for anyone else to give a shit. And all this for what? For a husband who hasn't touched me in years.

I am tired of the fucking pills. I am tired of the fakery. I am tired of wearing the mask. I am sick and tired of being here when all I really would like to do is to lay down and go to sleep and never wake. I hurt when he is here and I hurt when he is gone. How do you explain that? I feel like shit. I feel like he wishes I had never entered his life. I know he wishes he could go back and stay where he was and that makes me feel like some pile of shit he stepped in. Fuck this all. I mean fuck it all.

Monday, May 06, 2013

Just So You Know...

I love you with a passion you will never comprehend. I loved you before your presence was known to even me, much less the world.

I would lay down my life for you. I would have kept you safe no matter what that safety could have required of me. I believe I showed you that at least twice in the short time I had with you.

I loved the way your head smelled when I would hold you. I loved the touch of your skin against mine. I loved feeling your heart beat against mine when I held you close.

All these years I kept thinking, "It can't last forever". Well, I'm not sure how much more there is left until "forever" gets here, but if something doesn't change soon, my thinking was horribly wrong. It could last forever - and damn near has.

I'll leave this world loving you my son...just so you know. I'll hold no grudges; no bitterness and no anger, and I pray that one day, even if it is after I'm gone, you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I would have taken it back at any point were that possible, but it's not. It's just not. 

Just so you know.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Oh God please tell me it isn’t back. Please tell me this is just “that time of the month” or something else hormonal. Please God don’t let this be my medication petering out.

The first thing I recognized was waking up in the morning and being disappointed about it. I know how ungrateful that sounds to most people, but until you have lived inside my head, PLEASE DON'T JUDGE.
 
The next thing I am noticing is severe forgetfulness and a really difficult time finding my words and concentrating. I even mentioned the forgetfulness to my family doc during my physical last month but he wasn't concerned. Oh, and another thing, I'm crying a lot. Right now it is only during a sad part in a movie or a song that really touches me, but damn it that is how it usually begins.
 
I don't know how many more of these lapses in life, because of the medication no longer being effective, that I can survive. It is like walking through water. Or mud maybe. Like some dreams I have had where I was running to get away from something but realized I was running in the lake and not getting any where.

The timing is right though. For the past 10 or so years, the meds work for 15-24 months then they stop. It has been 16 months since I was put on the cocktail I am taking now. I have always been grateful that I never had to be admitted for this. The last time though, I came very close. I can't imagine what it is like and from what I have read really don't want to.

Please, please, please don't come back.

Wednesday, December 05, 2012

Lately I have been thinking about James. This month will be the 13th anniversary of the day I left his daddy. I miss him so much, James, not his daddy.


I don’t know if it is the holiday season or just by chance that I can’t get him off my mind. When I get this way, I wind up dreaming about him at least once. I guess I dream about him 2-3 times a month. It is always a dream where we’re getting together for something or the other and it is as if we have not went 13 years not speaking. I awaken with the most depressed heart & spirit. To dream it is over yet to awaken to the fact it was only a dream. It hurts so much.

I used to write James 3-4 letters a WEEK! That first couple of years I did. I would also call his number but he would never talk to me nor did he ever respond to any letters or emails. I would try to explain why I did what I did. Explaining how it is not how I wanted to do things but his daddy forced my hand. Describing what it felt like to not have him (James) in my life.

I would write and remind him how close we once were; how whenever he was in trouble it was me he came to, not his daddy. I would tell him again about the four years it took me to become pregnant with him and how the doctor had already given up on it happening.

I eventually began telling him about things I had kept hidden from him and his sister all those years. The abuse; the spying on me; how his daddy would mark my tires in the driveway to see if I went off during the day while he was at work. Showing up on my job at midnight to see if I went straight to my car or if I stopped and talked to anyone. At this point in our lives, I had never, ever, given him any reason to not trust me, none!

I no longer know my son. I don’t know what he likes to eat. I don’t know what his thoughts are politically. I don’t know how he feels about everyday happenings in the world. I don’t know how he deals with his children, or his wife. I don’t know what he does for a living; or for fun.

Oh God how I love him; how my heart yearns for him.

Friday, November 16, 2012

Not Angry Any Longer (or Now That I’m Old I Understand)

I was angry with my mother for a long, long time. All manner of understanding and consideration of her circumstances never helped me to “get it”. Now, at 52, I get it.

When my mother was 35, she walked out on my daddy, and of course that meant me as well. I was 6. She ran away with a man she had begun seeing from work. After a few weeks, from what I have been told, she was left there in the motel room they had been living in when the guy decided to go back to his wife and kids. I am told he called my father and told him where she was and that she was talking about suicide. Daddy immediately went after her.

Life went on as usual. The only thing that changed was mother had to leave her job and go to work somewhere else so that she would not be around this man any longer. That was daddy’s only requirement to her coming back home. Otherwise nothing changed. No one talked. The only speaking that was done in our home was reminding someone to pick up some milk or telling someone to be sure and sweep the porch before night. It was years before I understood that in some families’ people actually talked to each other; even when they didn’t “need anything”. Some parents hugged and even kissed their kids. Why some parents hugged each other! Wow!!

Six years later, she was 41 and I was 12, she left again. This time it was with a different man. Someone at her new job. I was warned that eventually I would have to g to court and tell a judge which parent I wanted to live with. I was also told which parent to choose; this by my only sibling, a sister. She is 10 years older than me and she eloped at 15 so she was already gone by time mother left the first time.

I understand now. I spent a lot of years being mad at her. She doesn’t know that, but I did. Was what she had done wrong? Of course it was. Very wrong. Was she human? You bet she was! I understand now.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

The one who caused the pain hurts just as much if not more. >They would never ask for pity - they don't want nor expect pity. They just want you to know. This song says it all.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Happy Birthday to me ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gosh. Another one. Funny how they sneak up on you after so many. I wonder how many more. I wonder if they will all be as dreaded as this one and the past few. Sometimes it would just be easier not to have any more, to..uh..celebrate. Shouldn't be listening,but...

Sunday, May 08, 2011

Mothers Day 2011

I hope the mothers out there had a peaceful day. I know the cards all say, "Happy" Mothers Day, but I believe peaceful is just as good. As mothers, some of us carry around extreme loads of guilt. Guilt for either things we did or failed to do, or guilt for ways in which we perceive we failed our children.

I have plenty of guilt myself. I was never"mothered" as a child so the mothering I did I learned on my own. Some of it was good, some of it was not. I was young, and chances are I was bipolar as well.

I have learned this about guilt; number one, ask your Heavenly Father to forgive you. He will. Next, ask forgiveness from those you have wronged. They either grant you that forgiveness or not but if you ask in earnest that is all you can do. Then, FORGIVE YOURSELF.

That last part is the hardest part. You may have to do it several times over several years. Keep doing it until it "takes", lol. "Fake it till you make it" as the old saying goes.

I forgive myself, again today. On this Mothers Day, 2011, I forgive myself for not being perfect.

Friday, May 06, 2011

Oldies Goodies Maybe....

I've been sitting here listening to some of the top 100 songs from 1999. I can listen to this genre of songs and it carries me back like certain smells will do.

I don't remember other years like I do this one. I mean sure, I remember the 70's because that is when I was young and semi-free. 1999 now, that was when I became free again for the first time in 24 years. I like the songs, but the feelings they leave me with is mixed.

On the one hand, I love remembering the freedom, but on the other hand I feel much older than the short 12 years it has been. I feel like I have lost part of me along the way.

Middle age?

Monday, May 02, 2011

Mothers Day

Every year I dread the day that mothers across our land are receiving flowers and cards and other tokens of appreciation and love.

It isn’t that I don’t want to wish my mother a happy Mothers Day. Oh no. I settled that ghost in my mind a long time ago. I know in my heart my mother did the best she could at the time, given the tools that had been passed down to her. I love my mother. I even talk to her several times a week now.

No, it is me. I was (am) a mother. Evidently I was a worse one than I remember, although I too did the very best I knew how, given those same tools that were given to me.

Regardless of how bad things got between my mother and me, I never once forgot to remember her on Mothers Day. In 45 years, I never failed to send her a card if nothing else.

Mothers Day is not an opportunity to “bless” your mother depending on what kind of job she did. It is not a “payback” based on your opinion of how she raised you. It is simply a “Thank You”. Thank you for trying. Thank you for caring. Thank you for hanging in there. Thank you for loving me even though you may not have been very demonstrative about it. Thank you for getting up during long nights when I was sick. Thank you for doing your best to teach me to be kind to others.

Bless your mothers this Sunday; and every other day too.