Seasons in the Sun

I heard the Terry Jacks song, "Seasons in the Sun" today. I was reminded of climbing trees, playing ball in the neighborhood, riding my mini-bike, playing in the yard with my dog.

I remember hurrying through homework so I could get outside with my friends. Playing so long and so hard. Getting all sweaty and dirty. Hurrying through supper so I could get back outside with my friends.

I miss my friends.

Pretending

I used to pretend everything was different. Outsiders would never have guessed. I don't even have the energy to pretend any longer. Not even just for me.

Th Perfect Mother

I was not a perfect mother. Matter of fact - I was FAR from it. I had just turned 16 when my daughter was born and I had no clue how to be a mother.

I was a yeller and I was way too strict. I used a little paint stirrer stick for spankings. I expected A's when B's and C's should have sufficed. I did not buy her name brand clothes and for that she suffered ridicule from her peers. She didn't get to go to all the functions she wanted to go to, and according to her when she did go she felt like she was a "charity case".
I was a stay-at-home mother and we just didn't have the money for these things every time.

I took my child to my shrink years ago when she was 15 and asked her forgiveness and along with my shrink explained why I mothered in the fashion that I did. I was abused horribly as a child, and my mother had it even worse when she was a child. I'm not placing blame, just explaining how things turned out the way they did.

Over the next 15 years, I allowed her to "vent" to me about how bad her childhood was. She was allowed to say whatever she needed to say and I answered any questions she had. I won't attempt to guess how many times I have apologized for my actions. I also know that no matter how many times I apologize, nothing could make up for the actions she suffered from.

As a grandmother, the first few years of the grandchildren's lives I kept them a lot. The first two, I kept for days at a time several times a month for 2 or 3 years. I enjoyed every minute of it. Once I went to work outside the home, and as my mental health has become worse, I have had no energy - physical or mental - to keep them or go to games and other functions that they participate in. Working from 8 until 5 every day then going straight to a ball game or whatever it happened to be was just too much for me. This caused friction with my daughter as well.

Her youngest child, has behavioral issues and does not like to be told "No" nor be told what to do. She will for instance, aggravate the dogs and when told to stop she will turnright around and do it again. She doesn't allow adults to talk without constantly interupting them. I had never been around a child who behaved this way and after trying to keep her at my home without her mother once, and having to call her mother to come get her, (which NEVER happened with the others), I knew I could not keep her for visits. Because of this, my daughter told us that if we can't keep her we can't keep the other two either. She said it wasn't fair.

A few months ago, she made several comments pertaining to her childhood and how sorry it was and how she would never put her children through the same thing. She HATED how she couldn't wear "nice" clothes and she HATED how she couldn't go to all the extracurricular activities she wanted to go to and she was determined her kids would have better.

After the last vent session, and a comment made on facebook about how she believed she was born to aliens and put in our family, I decided in my heart that I was finished letting her say things to me about it all. I cannot take it back and I feel like 15 years of letting her "vent" is enough. As I get older these things were beginning to wear on me more and more and my mental health is not in the category of "healthy" to begin with.

I wrote her a letter and told her I no longer wanted her to tell me about how bad a mother I was and how bad her childhood was. I tried to explain it in as nice a way possible while not taking away from the fact she did have a rough childhood.

Since then, she has had very little to do with me. Mothers Day came and went with no word. This isn't the first Mothers Day I've been ignored, but it bothered me the most.

I'm sorry I wasn't a perfect mother. I'm sorry she felt so "different" from the other kids because she didn't have the name brand clothes. I'm sorry she didn't get to go to every function and that she felt she was a charity case. I did the best I knew how to do at the time, with the resources available to us on my husbands income. I would have loved to have had more clothes instead of wearing the same 2 or 3 dresses to church every week. I would have loved to have been able to do some things I enjoyed as well. Instead I was too busy doing my best to keep a home for four people on a one person budget.

I am very happy that her husband is able to provide all these things on his income alone so that she doesn't have to work. He obviously makes much more money that her daddy did. I am happy that her kids won't come to her one day and complain about what they didn't have or where they didn't get to go. I hope she never has to feel the way I feel at this stage in my life.

Mothers Day ??

In my nearly 50 years, from the time I was old enough, I NEVER forgot my mother on Mothers Day. Nor did I ever ignore her. We may not have been close, but I have always respected the job of raising me that she did her best at.

I forget now just how many mothers days have passed that I have been forgotten or ignored by my children.

I haven't been doing this. I have thought about it and determined in my heart not to write unless I can say something positive. But tonight, I can't sleep or get in a position that doesn't hurt, so I'm gonna break my rule.......................... again.

Since I lost my job in January, I have felt so lost. I don't miss the drama and the stress, but the actual work I did, I miss that. I was good at what I did. I was virtually error free and whether or not that company appreciated it - I did a good job for them. I miss having a purpose; somewhere to get up and go to every day. ROUTINE!

I have tried to incorporate a routine into my new life. I still get up early. There is one positive on that; I can take my pain meds and sit for 20-30 minutes until they kick in. I couldn't do that when I was working because I didn't want to drive after taking them, I'd have to wait until I was at work to take them and by then the pain was intense.

Sometimes my mind will replay that afternoon when my boss took me in his office and said, "I have some bad news". As soon as he said that I knew what was coming. Ever since I went back from my "nervous breakdown" 4 weeks earlier, I felt they were trying to push me into quitting. Really, it was a relief. As much as I loved what I did, it was such a stressful atmosphere it was eating me alive. I've never done well around "yellers" or people who might go 8 hours and never speak to you.

I guess I've entered a new phase of my life. I don't like "new". Soon, maybe I won't see it as new.

I think back a lot. Too much. Some people have a drinking problem; I have a "thinking problem". I am aware of this and I am working on it. But I was thinking back trying to decide when it was I was really happy. I think I know now...it was when I had children at home. As much as they got on my nerves sometimes, I miss when my kids were little, or at least when they were at home. My son still has nothing to do with me. It has been 10 years since I left his daddy and he still has not forgiven me. There is a difference now though - I can think about it and write about it and not break down. Maybe that is a self-protection mechanism...you just kind of become cold to the situation.

I think about my parents. They are getting old. I never thought that would happen. We were never close. They were always busy and working and trying to survive their own dramas of middle age and I just kind of grew up without them. Now, as they have gotten older, they want to have this parent-child relationship. I'm working on that. At first, it was kind of an artificial relationship, but now it is more real. I love them. I'm going to miss them terribly when they die. I'll miss them for what they are now, and I'll miss them for what should have been way back when.

My marriage is ... "different". He is super good to me. He has stood beside me through all this mental illness. He does whatever he can to make me happy and comfortable. If it were not for the big elephant in the room it would be an ideal marriage. That elephant though sits there - blocking that full, open, "safe" relationship. On my part anyway.

So this is where I stand today. Searching for whatever is missing. Whatever is keeping that all elusive "happy" that I know must be out there if I could just unravel the web that is my mind.

Terminated

I was terminated from my job of 10 years week before last. That is a huge adjustment but I am actively trying to keep an eye on my mental health while I adjust.

It was a shock. I wasn't allowed to take anything with me but my purse, and after 10 years I had plenty of personal items in the office and breakroom. They packed it all up the next day and my husband went after it all. He said my boss turned his head and wouldn't even speak to him.

They said it was because my position was being eliminated, but it happened just four weeks after I came back from a 4 week MLOA due to what I pretty much think of as a "nervous breakdown".

I had never in 10 years been out of work before that. They said the MLOA wasn't it, but who knows. I had asked for help in the past couple of months; basically asking if the guys in the office could help with the constant phone calls coming in. I was having a hard time concentrating and being constantly interrupted was NOT helping.

I was told that it was my job and that wasn't going to change. Just weeks after asking for help they fired me.

For 10 years I had received yearly raises and bonuses. Nothing negative in my file at all. Then I got sick.

Thinking Back

Back in my day, teachers didn't tell what they saw. Neighbors minded their own business. Relatives didn't get involved.
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Still Hanging On

I'm still alive. Back to work today after 4 weeks MLOA. I've never been so bad I had to be put out of work until now. Not ready to come back but no choice unless I want to risk losing my position.

On Seroquel at 300mg. It is very sedating for me even tho I take it at night. I'm going to give it a couple of weeks more but it has to get better for me to stay on it.

Also on Pristiq 50 & Lamictal 200.

Ativan did nothing.
Klonipin (sp?) did nothing.
Tranxene made me feel "weird" so I quit taking that.

The anxiety has eased about 40% I'd say. The depression about 50%.

Sometimes I think all I have left is 20 more years of major depression minus 50%. Can't ever seem to get any better than that. It is only slightly better than wishing you wouldn't wake up.

Seroquel

Well, the Tranxene didn't put out the fire, so today he put me on Seroquel. In two weeks if there is no improvement, (or before then if things get too much worse), we're looking at hospitalization.

I've never been in the hospital, much less the "nut house" - and I feel I can use that term because I am a nut. Kind of scary to think about based on movies I have watched, but this feeling is scary too. Tit for tat I suppose.

Deep and Dark

Its so dark. My body will only go in slow motion. I am crying 70% of my waking hours. I wake a million times a night. Hopelessness is all I see in front of me.

I cannot stand to talk; Idon't even feel "real" most of the time. Try and explain that to someone. Now I am supposed to go back to work Tuesday and I don't know how I can manage. I can't afford to lose my job. I've been there 10 years - just long enough to make decent money for someone with no education. Not to mention my day is at a desk so that is easy on my back.

I feel so helpless and hopeless.

I would never do it on my own, but God how I wish I could just die without embarrassing or hurting anyone.

Holidays

For now, I am doing okay.

My shrink put me out of work for 2 weeks in order to "Put out the fire" as he phrased it. As you can imagine my employer is not one bit happy about this even thought in 10 years I have never taken a leave. As a matter of fact, the first thing he asked when I called and told him was, "Can you do your work from home?"

The anxiety was constant and it was like one big long panic attack all day, not to mention I was crying all day long. Makes it hard to work with any semblance of someone who has any sense.

He said we couldn't really work on the depression much until we get the anxiety under control.

That's it for now. Happy Thanksgiving and for those of you for whom holidays are hard, I understand.

Black Holes

Once again I find myself in the black hole filled with severe depression and a feeling of anxiety that doesn't go away. It feels like my body is shaking from the inside out and my heart races and I sweat like a fiend. Kind of like having one long panic attack.

Doc can't seem to get the meds right this time. Pristiq is the latest and so far I'm just getting worse.

I have had real problems going to work everyday. When I get there the tears flow freely off and on all day long. The strong desire to stay home where I am in my own little safe world has been pulling at me for weeks now. The severe depression isn't helping much either.

I have missed more days the past 4 months than I have the entire 10 years I have been on my job. Not good. My employer feels depression is simply a case of pull yourself up by your bootstraps and get on with it. What he doesn't understand, (yet), is that I am having a very hard time concentrating on my work. I work with 14,000 manhours a week I have to properly pay and bill for. It is only a matter of time before I screw something up royally, then I guess he will understand...just before he hands me a pink slip. "Would you like fries with that?" could be the next phrase I'll be learning.

It isn't just the depression this time. I have having bouts of rage that come from nowhere. I've never been an angry person. Being angry scares me.

Needless to say they can't seem to find the proper cocktail of meds to pull me out of the black hole I find myself in....again. I have never been hospitalized, but I wonder if I shouldn't be right now.

This gets so very old and discouraging to think I have years of living this way before me. I don't even remember what "normal" feels like.

Again... Again & Again & Again

Sluggish. That is the definition I would use. Like walking under water, or through mud, or like swimming fully clothed.

I am tapering off the anti-depressant. I will start the new one soon. I feel as if my body is someone else's. I wake in the mornings and am disappointed that He didn't take me during the night. I am not ungrateful for His mercy; I'm just so very tired of fighting this.

Not sure if it is the tapering of the Cymbalta or just the fact it is no longer working, but my body has never felt this bad. My brain has something going on that I can only describe as electrical "zaps". The nausea, the dizziness, the panicky feeling.

He did give me Klonipin to tide me over until the tapering is done - it doesn't soothe the anxiety - it only makes me feel "out-of-control" and extremely sleepy.

He increased the Lamictal - to "keep me between the ditches" was how he described it.

You know I don't even remember who I was when I was "normal".

Black Dog’s Return

He’s back.

The Black Dog of depression has returned with a vengeance.

Since 1992 I have been treated with anti-depressants. Since 1992, these medications will stop being effective somewhere between 1.5 to 3 years after beginning them. It never, ever gets easier.

This last time they were changed, Lamictal was added and it worked! I no longer had any imagination for writing or much else, but at least I was not awakening every morning only to regret it. It has been 2 years and 3 months. I probably started going down about 4-5 months ago, but like weight gain, when you see it every single day, you don’t notice it until something no longer fits.

Every time it happens, I hit absolute bottom before I realize I am there again. Every time, I tell myself I should have caught that I was going down hill, yet I never do.

I hate being like this. Every single time it happens I go through the same old storyline in my mind; if I were just stronger; if I just had more faith; if I would just pick myself up by my boot straps; all the ifs come washing back over me like a wave.

I pray that one day they will know what causes a brain to not work normally, and find a cure so that no more generations will have to live with the anguish that is my mind.

Hard Times

Hasn’t been this hard in a loooooooooooooooooooooong time.

I am recovering from some type of infection. Horribly sore throat, temps of 103, just pretty much a feeling of being run over by a MAC truck if you know what I mean.

Do antibiotics affect the psyche drugs? Maybe it was just being down sick for 4 days and not being able to eat.

Whatever…hasn’t been this hard in a while.