Three years…

It’s been a really tumultuous three years but I’m still here, fighting and whining and bitching and crying and, well, healing. I’ve been with my current therapist for three years! It’s just, well, it’s just unbelievable. First off, you’re not supposed to go past 10-12 sessions at the women’s center where I see her, so three years is unheard of. I don’t know how she’s worked it out, but I’m very grateful. I only pay $15 a session and wouldn’t be able to afford anything more than that. Second, I should have died a few times by now if it weren’t for her help. I almost successfully committed suicide in August and I’ve been hospitalized three subsequent times since. She’s been there for me the whole time, as much as she was able to.

I’m terrified that she will leave the women’s center she’s been at (she’s been getting her hours for license certification) and go elsewhere. If it’s somewhere in Jacksonville and we can work on price, I’ll be fine. The problem is, she live in Amelia Island, and I cannot afford to drive that far for therapy. I’m dreading the day she tells me that she is leaving. I don’t think I can handle it. I guess until then, I will cherish every session with her.

in 3 minutes, your life will change…

I just urinated on a stick. A magical stick to me that will tell me my future. I bought it at the Dollar General; it was $6. I opted for the name brand over the cheaper one. I figured this is not the occasion to pinch a penny, or two.
I read the instructions twice before, and once while I waited and extremely long 3 minutes.
One line means your life remains unchanged, supposedly.
A crossed set of lines means your whole world has changed, either positively or negatively. I guess it depends on your place in life at the moment.

I got one line tonight and began crying. I don’t know how to feel right now. I am torn between my emotions and logic. I know I cannot afford a child right now, but when will I be able to? So many have told me “you’re never ready to have a child”, but I want to be more ready than I am now.

I yearn for a baby so much right now, it’s unbearable to be around other children. I feel an emptiness that I want filled and believe a child would help fill that void.

I’ll be taking another test in a week. I need to make sure that the results are accurate.
I don’t know what I want them to be though.

I wanted to be sick.

In the last several months, I have been fortunate enough to have access to free healthcare, provided by local volunteer doctors and hospitals. I have been tested for epilepsy by receiving an EEG, I had a full lab workup, I had an MRI on my brain, and recently was lucky enough to get in on a sleep study to see if I’m narcoleptic. ALL of these tests have produced NOTHING. Heartache and stress, but not any information on my current conditions. I’ve been so frustrated with the results, I just break down and cry.

I will admit, I was in a bad place today, emotionally. I woke up with a severe migraine due to the storms and pressure (tropical depression Beryl). I laid in bed all day with an icepack on my head, by myself. I felt so lonely and agoraphobic, at the same time. This is a bad combination for when you have plenty of time to lay in bed and ruminate on shit. This would be exactly what I did, and it got me to thinking about my health. I wished they had found something wrong in my MRI, or that I was epileptic. I wanted to know that there was a reason for feeling like I do. I also wanted something terminal, so that it would take me out and I would also gain sympathy from those few who do care for me. I realize how bad that sounds, but it’s how I felt this afternoon.

When you deal with suicidality, and the obsessive thinking that I do, everyday, it can be exhausting. I don’t really want to die, I just don’t want to feel like I do anymore to the point where death seems to be the only option. My logical brain, the slower brain compared to emotional brain, knows perfectly how wrong all of this thinking is, but it is too slow. My emotional brain is lightening fast and tends to bully the logical brain into shutting the hell up.

Living, surviving, and attempting to cope, hour by hour, is not how I envisioned myself living right now. I have too much fire, too much dedication, and far too much pride to be dependent on everyone but myself. I want to help people and I can’t help myself.

I want healthy, “normal” relationships. Why can’t I?

The thought just popped into my head and I started tearing up.

I am a pretty sociable person. I find it easy to make friends when I’m trying to. I’m pretty funny, I like good music and food, I’m pretty intelligent. I’m not trying to sound like a narcissist, I’m just explaining to you that I’m alright.

Why is it so hard for me to have healthy relationships? They may start out normal enough, whatever that is, and then they slowly move into the dangerous areas. Dangerous for me more than anyone else because I usually end up getting hurt. I would actually bet that nine times out of ten, I will get hurt. It may be by something they’ve said, something they’ve done, or they may leave. I can’t handle when people leave me. It doesn’t matter how close we are, it still hurts something awful.

I think one of my biggest issues lately is the whole attachment and obsession thing. I do it with anyone who I connect with in the smallest way. It’s not like I stalk them or anything, I just think we’re going to be friends when that may not be the case. I don’t mean acquaintances either, I mean BFFLs and all that. That’s not healthy for me because I ultimately end up pushing them away with my crazy smothering. I want to be with them all the time and that’s not plausible. I’ve already pushed two people out of my life by doing this but I continue to do it.

Then there’s the seething anger and abandonment I struggle with when they don’t answer my email, phone calls, texts, etc. I don’t let the logical part of my mind tell me that there could be a good reason they’re not able to answer me. The emotional part of me steps in and gets all hurt and angry. “They hate me already” or ” I’ve pushed them away”.

I also have an issue with older women. If they are caring, nurturing people in any way, I put them up on a pedestal and become obsessed with their company. I guess I am still looking for that emotional fulfillment I should have gotten from my mom but never did. My therapist’s have all filled this for me in some way and when I meet anyone who does the same in real life, I struggle with it.

It’s not a comfortable feeling. I have to practice a lot of self-control, which is something I’m not good at. I want to call them whenever I don’t feel alright. I want to hug them and be close to them and this isn’t possible. Sometimes I honestly think about becoming a recluse but know that deep down, that not possible for me to do. I need people in my life because I see being alone as being lonely. I can’t take being lonely.

So many thoughts and feelings, not enough time

The breathing exercises aren’t enough. My mind is in overdrive today. I’ve been over analyzing things and then analyzing them again. Every time I try to slow my brain down and clear my head, I’m only able to do so for a few seconds.

There were a couple occasions in the car ride home where I almost broke down and sobbed. I was able to breathe and keep my composure. I’m just kind of bummed right now though. I just feel like these exercises are making it more possible for me to suppress and bury my feelings instead of dealing with them. I understand the premise to control my emotions and actions at that moment so as not to freak out or do something regretful but it’s just enabling me to become more of an emotional shell of a person.

I’m not learning the skills I need to effectively and safely cope with these incidences and these events that are causing such a strong emotional reaction. I don’t feel the way I do for no reason. It may seem minor to many who don’t understand why and how I feel, but to those that do… well, you know.

I feel I have so much inside that I need to get it out or I’m going to explode. This is the main reason I have this blog. I hope to have a release of some sort as well as a way to possibly help others like me. I still feel I need to tell the people involved in the creation of my emotional woes that they are doing so. The issues I have with this is that I’m terrified they’ll leave me. As confrontational as I am in other areas of my life, I can’t seem to get the balls to handle the shit I need to handle. Why am I the only one that feels, yearns, to release my thoughts and feelings? Why am I the only one that wants to talk things out and make them better? I feel like no one cares anymore. I feel like I’m living out this whole argument and fight inside my head and I’m not getting anywhere.

I’m hoping this new counselor that I start seeing tomorrow morning might be able to help me with this. It’s frustrating to not know what to do and to not have someone to help me know.

This depression is a facade.

I keep lying to myself and others about my current mood. I keep telling everyone I feel badly because I’m PMSing, but I know it’s really because I’m horribly lonely. You’d think, with the horrible relationship I have with my mom, that I’d be ecstatic to have the house to myself for several days. At first, I was elated and couldn’t wait for them to leave. By the second day, I was feeling the black cloud of depression looming in the background.  By the third day, I was just plain moody and it didn’t help that I wasn’t getting my fulfillment from anyone else. I transitioned between anger and sadness so quickly, I told myself it had to be my hormones. When others asked me what the deal was, I chocked it up to PMS and it was accepted. Now, I ‘m not too sure.

Although I am hesitant to say I’m happy they’ll be walking through that door any minute, a little part of me is relieved. I’m sure that feeling will go away tomorrow as soon as my mom starts in on her bullshit. As soon as I realize that she didn’t miss me or I don’t get a hug or a kiss. But as I’m typing this, all I can think of is how I want this horrible feeling to leave me. I guess I’m grasping at anything I can think of but, that’s what’s keeping me alive.

I’m not entirely sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this alone. It’s been a long time already and I’m exhausted.