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Less Than I Ought To Be It has been a seriously long time. No doubt my faithful readers have moved on, no longer patient with the drought in my writing. I am sorry. I am especially sorry for leaving my last post in such a sad state. I am not regretting posting it, for it was my true feelings at the time, I only wish I had the fortitude in the last two months to update you all and not leave you wondering, since the tone of the last post was so... dreadful.
Several things have been responsible for me not writing. For one, there was a major computer virus, and the hard drive was wiped clean several times and my computer time was limited. For another, one of the job interviews worked out, and I started working fulltime for Starbucks... I now get up at 3:30am to be at work at 5am so therefore I am in bed by 7:30pm, again, limiting my computer time. Also, I have hit the (what seems to be for me) inevidable numbness-wall with my medication. It seems every time I am on a mood stabilizer for longer than six months or so I start to even out on it so much that I get to the point when I don't really care about anything. Everything becomes.... *shrug*.... not so important. Which is partially what leads us to today's post, of being less than I ought to be.
I have a picture in my head of who I'm "supposed" to be. And this is not it. I'm SUPPOSED to be a Bible-reading, peaceful Christian woman. I'm SUPPOSED to be able to hold down a full time job without becoming completely emotionally and physically exhausted. I'm SUPPOSED to be "connecting" with my husband more and making him feel more understood and more validated instead of just tolerated (I of all people should know how belittling that feeling is). I'm SUPPOSED to help my daughter grow into a confident young woman. I'm SUPPOSED to show my step-sons what a kind woman looks like. I'm SUPPOSED to be a good friend, call, go out for coffee, send a card. I'm SUPPOSED to be a good daughter, sister, granddaughter, family member, and remember to book off important dates from work and show up for graduations and dinners and call more often. I am SUPPOSED to be in control of my eating habits, get enough exercise, and take care of myself. Be assertive. Be kind. Be strong. Be loving. Give a shit.
The only problem is, I'm.... less. I'm spent, I'm cranky, I want to be left alone, I don't want to call anyone or go anywhere, or be nice. I Just. Don't. Care. I can't seem to wrap my head around stuff. I can't seem to remember. I can't seem to do enough. I just don't have it in me.
And it's not that I don't care. Cuz really, I do. Anybody that knows me, even a little bit, knows that's true. I just don't know what's wrong with me. And this inner turmoil, this inner struggle, the tiredness of getting up, getting it done, washing another dish, making another latte, fixing another sibling rivalry, making another pot of spaghetti, listening to another story, trying to get along, trying not to cry... the tiredness of it all, and the knowledge inside myself that it's just TOO MUCH, that I'm going to SNAP at any moment...
... It makes me hate. It makes me hate in a way I never thought possible. The thought of another failure, another person being wounded by me, by my sickness... I hate. I hate who I am. I hate that I am LESS. Less than I am supposed to be. And not just a little bit. If I was failing in one, two, maybe even three areas, I might be able to feel some hope that I could fix them, forgive myself, and move forward. But I fail in everything. Because that is what I do. Because it's who I am.
"So change! Fix it!" you might say. Dear Lord, if it was that easy, I would. I try. I try every single day. Every day I wake up and think I'll just take a baby step and maybe today I won't mess up my kid. Maybe today I won't hurt my husband. Maybe today I won't disappoint a friend, or my Mom. But it never happens.
I'm not looking for perfection. I know it may sound like I am, but I'm really not. I just want to stop hurting others, and start being who they need me to be. Cuz right now I don't know who I need me to be... maybe someone else can give me a little guidance, and if I'm who other people need me to be, and I don't hurt them so much, I won't be so angry at myself, and I won't want to hurt myself so badly.
Last night I had a dream. I dreamt I was in a car with my husband and he was asleep, and I was driving down a road, very fast. I started to turn a corner, and the car wasn't going to make it. At the side of the road was a big brick wall. Everything slowed down. In slow motion, I shoke my husband and said, "Wake up, we're going to crash!" but he kept sleeping.
I've had car-crash dreams before, and usually they're terrifying, and I wake up screaming "NO!" or I scream "Jesus! Save me!"... Last night, I saw the wall coming for us, and I knew I was going to die, and I raised my hands in the air and screamed
"Jesus! Yes, take me home!"
I'm so ready. I am so done. Lord, help. Insanity Puzzle Insanity seems to be a puzzle my mind wants me to construct, for it keeps adding pieces, regardless of my feelings about it. These days of chaos, of resume writing and interviews, of appointments and cancelled work shifts, of Spring Break for the kids, and extra work hours for the husband, these days are full of numb, empty, searing, jarring pain for me. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, I am weeping, aching, continually.
I'm unsure if it's the change in the medication, the fact that I was without my Luvox for nearly a week, the stress of looking for work and all the insecurities that brings out in me, or a combination of all of the above. All I know is, I am terrified. Tomorrow I go for two more job interviews and I barely feel capable of dressing myself today. Then the next three days my husband will be working all day... and I do mean, ALL DAY... I will be alone for 13 hours a day, for 3 days. I want to scream. On the one hand I am glad we had planned this weekend for my Mom to take my daughter for a special Grandma-time. On the other hand, that means I will truely be alone.
My mind is spinning. Gone are the dozens of crazy-making thoughts. Now when they come, there are only a few. And usually, they're so loud, I can't help but listen. I binge, but nothing tastes good. I make love to my husband, but the pleasure is over in seconds and the emptiness swarms in again like a flood. I literally felt it last night. While he was inside me, for a few moments, I was doing alright... not great, but alright, then as soon as we were laying beside eachother, breathless, the wave came over me, and darkness hit me like a wall of black ink and I was stained by it once again.
Tonight I lay in the bathtub, steaming hot lilac-scented water trying to distract me from my racing thoughts. I tried to will the water to soak my sorrow into it, but it didn't work. I want to hurt myself. I'm way beyond the thoughts of merely wanting to cut or burn myself now. The images coming to my mind were of pulling my hair out at the roots, gauging my skin with my nails and grabbing chunks, handfuls of skin and flesh from my arms and legs and throwing it away from me. Is the self-loathing that strong, that I would want to do this to myself?
What is wrong with me? I fear the pieces of the puzzle are coming together faster than I can seperate them. I don't know what to do with myself, besides write it out. Keep busy. Talk to someone. Anyone. Online. On the phone. Stop myself from being alone. So very alone. Ch-ch-Changes Clarity is a rare thing for me, and when it comes, it comes in small doses. I lap it up like a grateful little kitty getting a treat of sweet cream after plain old water for months, and I use it to sustain me for the months of plain old water ahead. My job has been scaled back to one 4 hour shift a week and I am left with no choice but to buckle down and look for work; my second least favourite thing to do in life (right after scraping used gum off the bottom of tables with my teeth). My least favourite thing to do in life is start a new job, which will come shortly, but for once, I am managing to not freak out about that early, and just concentrate on the first thing, first. Resumes, looking, applications, baby steps, deep breaths, grieving the dream that was the job that I had and all the hopes that I had for it and the dashing of those against the Shoreline of Doom. Oh, look. There's some gum under the desk. Goody. Bang Head Here The poster at work hangs innocently on the wall, advertising a free space to bang my head if need be, in the name of "Stress Relief". I don't know very many people who find relief in a migraine, but I do know a few people, including myself who would be tempted to bash our heads into that circle until we see blood. Alot of blood.
I don't think that's what the boss had in mind. Pity, really. Cuz all this silence inside my head is deafening me. I once thought the voices would drive me crazy. Now I think the quiet it eating away my soul. Can't there be a happy medium? Lordy love a duck, I just can't seem to ever find a balance. At the beginning of February I finally caved in and went back on Risperdal. I couldn't take the constant nattering going on in my head anymore. I had put on 16 pounds I was binging so heavily, and I was fighting it every second of every day and I was losing bitterly. I wanted to hurt myself in unimaginable ways and I couldn't take it anymore. So I saw my psychiatrist and he suggested we try the Risperdal again, even though it caused severe weight gain in me about 4 years ago, and pair it with Topomax, which was originally made as a seizure med, but has been found to stablize moods, and help with appetite suppression.
By the thirteenth I was feeling great! The voices were gone, I was sleeping through the night, I hadn't binged once, I had lost 4 pounds, and I was calmer. I noticed I was still a bit irritable, though, and I was dizzy and slightly confused thoughout the day if I didn't get at least 8 to 9 hours of sleep the night before. I told the psychiatrist I would try it for 6 more weeks, and give him my final decision then.
In the last 5 days it seems like my world has slowly started to unravel before my eyes. I've been sick with a cold since the 10th, and it keeps getting worse. I have the sneaky suspicion I'm now lingering into pneumonia territory and that terrifies me. For all my talk of sometimes wanting to die, it's the chemicals in my brain talking. And if I DO go, I want to control it. As stupid as that is, I don't want to drown on fluid in my lungs in my sleep. I'm having trouble breathing. I ache all over. I just want to curl up with my fuzzy blanket and my purple teddy and have someone rub my sore back and make me soup and bring me tea with extra honey. Instead, I have to feed my daughter, and do laundry, and go to work, and all those other things I always have to do to keep this place going that no one really sees or appreciates. Some of the voices are starting to creep back in, and wouldn't you know it, it's the nasty ones. I sit here, huddled in my blanket, dreading going upstairs and being attacked by my daughter with "What's for supper? What are we doing now? I'm bored! When's Daddy coming home? Can I have a candy? Look at this! Watch me! LOOK!" ......*Shiray screams into purple teddy* I just want to retire to a desert island and die in peace. Either someone come take care of me, or everyone leave me the hell alone. Cuz it's taking all my energy right now to fight off this thing in my lungs, a possible urinary tract infection, a sore knee, a bad back, withdraws from cutting down on my pills so I don't run out before we get paid, emotional stress from being broke, self-doubt, the urge to cry pretty much 24/7, and the sneaky, diabolical little voices that have snuck back into my head in the last 3 or 4 days gently whispering, like drops of blood dripping down a "BANG HEAD HERE" sign...
Look at him with her... he's never going to stay with you. There are plently of beautiful, capable women out there without all your hang-ups that would gladly have him and love him much better than you ever could.
He doesn't even talk to you anymore. He'd be happier with them. You should just go.
She needs someone more stable. It's not her job to be caring for you. Leave her with her father and just go.
You're never going to find another job you can do. You're a fucking joke. You can't even type out your resume. What good are you?
They're trying to get rid of you. No one wants you. No one even wants to talk to you. Look at all the people you called this weekend. No one even called you back! You're pathetic. Everyone knows it. You wear it like a fucking badge. Like a cloak. You can't get it off. You're stuck like this.
You thought you could get rid of us with a pill? Nice try, sister. Nice try.
The argument that these voices are NOT demonic seems to be getting weaker to me the more I hear them. Then again... what do I know? I tried to whole exorcism thing before, and here I sit... still. *sigh* This is normally where I would go looking for some chocolate or something, but I don't do that anymore. Plus, there's no chocolate in the house, and we're beyond broke. I would call a friend, but it seems like every time I do that, they don't return my calls lately, so... I think I had better call the Crisis Line after I put my daughter to bed. I have got to get her to bed... I can't take all the caregiving right now. She's so loving lately, though. Bless her... so many hugs. She's such a sweetheart, even if she is tiring. That's what kids' jobs are. To be cute, and exhausting. I just wish I had someone to help me with her. Someone to help me with anything. I feel so alone. Panic is setting in, I think I have to stop writing. Goodnight everyone.
~S~
Absence Makes The Heart Grow Faint Life has been slamming along at an alarming rate. Before I really knew what was happening, I was in the new house, staring at rooms full of boxes, and pacing. Visions of Brownie Batter Blizzards and Chocolate Cake and Turtles Chocolate Bars were dancing... no, MOSHING, through my head, and I was following them on the train to Crazytown. I was manic. I was in a panic. I then crashed.
Some unpacking, a psychiatric appointment and several med changes later, I am feeling calmer. The house is mostly organized, there is very little left to open up and find, we have a washer and dryer set up and they're working, and everyone is enjoying the new house much better than the last one. My daughter has found neighborhood friends and is looking forward to starting over in a new school. I like living near parks and orchards and things that grow rather than concrete. My husband likes the space, especially half a basement for his home office where no one can bug him. When my step-sons arrive here next week I'm sure they will enjoy the "Boy Zone" we have created for them downstairs, complete with Star Wars posters and XBox games.
Are there problems here? Sure. Our car completely dying, coupled with my hours at work being severely cut back means we are hurting financially. Not to mention we live farther from the city without a working car which is a giant pain in the ass. One of my friends is going to Canadian Idol, and while I am SO VERY happy for her, I am also insanely jealous, since I would love to have that oppurtunity, but am considered too old by industry standards (which I think is totally ridiculous). Another friend is pregnant, unplanned and seperated.... again, insanely jealous(of the pregnancy, not the other stuff!), since as many as you know, my only child is a total MIRACLE, and I would give anything to have another child... well, another daughter, anyway. *smile and sad sigh* And yet...
Hope springs eternal. I feel better. I feel more... sane. Stable. Capable. In control. Loving. I feel like I can do this. Like life isn't going to kick my ass today. It may leave a bruise, but I'm fighting back! For My LovePain
Confusion
I cling to you
I push you away
I want to run
I want to stay
Crying
Screaming
My heart is cold
My chest is on fire
I want to get out
I want to climb higher
Scissors
Blood
I hate myself
I feel my head drop
I want to hurt
I want it to stop
Caged
Inside
Freedom is death
Or so it seems today
I want to love
I want not to betray
Touch
Words
You are gentle
You kiss my tears
I want your heart
I want to stay with you for years. Sunrise on Disappointment I have been feeling quite puffy lately, so I decided to get up VERY early this morning, go to the gym and visit my old nemisis, the scale. Well, that was a shocker. A year and a half ago I started out weighing nearly 270 pounds. I managed to get myself down to 241 with alot of restraint and exercise. It slowly started creeping up on me again about 4 months ago, and last I checked, I was hovering at 248; up, but still below the dreaded 250. Today I was 257. FRIK, FRIK, FRIK!!!! I worked out and tried not to let it get me down too much. Usually I would spiral into a huge depression and probably binge my face off... hmmm.... not too smart.
But when I got out of the gym, there to greet me was one of the most beautiful sunrises I have seen in a long time. It was breathtaking. It reminded me that I was not alone, and there was still hope. I've lost the weight before; surely I can lose it again. It reminded me that today is a new day. Today is a day full of happy family time; a trip to my Mother's house and time with my old but adorable Grandma. Time to take a breath, and relax. Time to escape the daily grind of cooking and cleaning and caring for 5 people. Time to just.... BREATHE. Everyone once in awhile, I need that. And hopefully some of the disappointment I feel in myself will disolve away like the pink lining on the sunrise-kissed clouds. Christmas Miracles Several things have happened in the last few days that I consider miracles. With only one of them, I might have over-looked them, but with a few in a row, I'm starting to take notice that maybe the Big Guy Upstairs is trying to tell me something. Last week at church we saw a short movie that had the voice of God the Father saying "Just let Me love you, because I am here; Emmanuel." It made me weep. Let Him love me? I'm so used to running... what would that look like? Well, what it's looked like this week is ....
~ extra hours at work, which means a bigger pay cheque in a few weeks.
~ the Food Bank accepting our application for a full family without the proper papers and providing us with a huge hamper of food, including 3 bags of cereal (choosen at random by the people there); Reese Puffs (my favourite), Shredded Wheat (my husband's favourite), and Lucky Charms (my daughter's favourite). Coincidence? I think not.
~ a beautiful friend and her family making us a Christmas Hamper, complete with HUGE turkey, 5 loaves of bread, cans of food, pastas, baking supplies, an extra $25 gift certificate for more groceries, and lots more. AMAZING. I'm very grateful.
~ my husband won a $50 gift certificate for a great restaurant in town, and we will be childless Boxing Day, which means we can go on a date for the first time in months.
~ a beautiful couple just slapped $80 in my hand today and told me to do something fun with the family for Christmas, when I mentioned we didn't have any toys or gifts this year.
~ my daughter wants to be a singer, and is getting her first chance to perform at the Christmas Eve service at church. She will be singing Away in a Manger, complete with a full band. I am excited for her, and also terrified. She's been calmer lately, but she's still so sensitive, if she screws up, I'm afraid she will give up. We're praying she will do well, though. Her practice with the worship leader went well today, and she will go through it with the band in the morning. She will be singing for about 600 people. Not bad for a 7 year old!
~ our cell phone company agreed not to cut off our phone over the holidays, as planned, and will wait one more week for their payment.
~ new landlord agreed to hold the house for us until February 1st with only $100 as a deposit. Wow.
~ my husband's work FINALLY paid us back the money for his glasses that had to be replaced two months ago; that was $425 we couldn't afford to spend, and it will be good to have it back.
~ and last, but CERTAINLY not least, perhaps one of the biggest Christmas Miracles of all, my husband voluntarily did some dishes this week. I nearly fainted. Thanks, Baby. You de shiznit.
With all these wonderful blessings, you would think I would be a happy, well-adjusted person lately. I feel even more broken, however, because it seems that negative things effect me severely (driving me to huge depths of depression and cycles of self-abuse), but positive things effect me only slightly (in terms of raising my moods). This frightens me because I am always fighting the fear that I am one inch from Crazyville, and when I am unable to experience happiness on a normal level, I feel muted and it leads to frustration and further self-hate. I am trying to remain positive, and just take one day at a time, and be thankful for all the good things going on lately, but it is an effort. I am willing to fight for my sanity, though. I mean, what's the alternative?? Bladder/Kidney Infection #2, Husbands When You're Sick, and a New House Earlier this year (I think it was January or February) I had a bladder and kidney infection that landed me in the hospital for 4 days, taking antibiotics and Morphine through an IV, cuz the oral pills they were giving me wouldn't stay down. Now I have it again, and am trying my best to keep those bloody pills in my stomach, though all I want to do for about 2 hours after taking them is puke my brains out. This is where being bulimic for so many years has come back to bite me in the ass... one of the times, anyway... my gag reflex as been used so often that I can spontaneously make myself throw up... sadly, that also means when I feel the least bit nauseated, it's all I can do not to ralph. And, wouldn't you know it? With this med, you can't take antacids, so... here I sit, with two large knives in my kidneys, slowly rotating, sick to my stomach, tired, sore all over, having panic attacks and trying to cope with appoinments, therapy, and just every day life, when all I want to do is curl up into a little ball, chew about 28 Tylenol, hug my teddy and zonk out until this whole thing if over. But that's not an option, because....
Do any of you wives have this problem? You're sick, you're wanting to just curl up and die, but you have kids to feed, errands to run, bills to pay, things to do... and your husband doesn't really want to help? I mean, he does the basics, drives the kids to school so you don't have to, but he does it begrudgingly, all the while complaining about how it's HIS day off, and he doesn't have any time for HIM, and why does HE have to do it all, etc, etc? It seems nearly every time I get sick, it's just too bad for me. If I have a Mental Health Crisis, he's right there, holding my hand, telling me I"ll be okay, that we'll work through this together, we're a team, etc. But if my back goes out, or I get sick some other way? Forget it. I don't know what the hell the differance is, but I am becoming VERY upset about it, and it is causing me severe anxiety. I walk a very thin line between black and white thinking. I try to fight it as best I can, but my whole life, my thought process towards others has been.... I love you, I love you, I love you... until you hurt me, then I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, and I'm OUTTA HERE!... until I don't want to be alone, then I love you again. I hate it about me, and I used to think it was a HUGE defect in my character, until I started reading books on BPD, and realized nearly all Borderlines struggle with those thought patterns.
So, right now, in the midst of being sick, and having major stress about moving, and my daughter... when my husband is crabby with me, and can't be bothered to wash a dish when I'm literally withering in pain in my bed... I start to think... and it's not good stuff. I'm fighting it, but right now I want to run away and never look back. Either that, or hit him over the head with something large and hard. Either works for me.
We get possession of a new place to live on February 1st. It's a three floor townhouse that will accomodate our blended family. We will have an extra large room in the basement for my step-son's bedroom, so they will finally have their own space, and my daughter will have a room to herself again. It's a decent price, and in a nice area of town. The only down-side is that it's built by the same company that built the low-income housing I lived in for years, and where most of the crap I went through that lead to a breakdown, happened. Walking into that house was like some severe deja vu, and not in a good way. My husband keep telling me we will make it our own, and I understand his point, but on the other hand, I can't help the way I feel... and I'm worried that once we get a dining room table in there, all I will be able to see is my attacker and handcuffs.... FRIK. The carpet is the same, the cupboards are the same, the layout is the same... everything. I'm trying to be positive about it, but it's hard. I can't worry about it now, though. Right now, I just have to concentrate on getting better, both physically and mentally. One day at a time. Severe Anxiety My anxiety has reached a breaking point. Panic attacks are happening not only daily, but nearly hourly. The line between reality and not is being majorly blurred. I'm rocking back and forth almost continuely, making small moaning noises, blanking out while I drive... I constantly feel as though I am losing my mind, or will at any moment.
My pyschiatrist is unavilable until the second week in January. I saw my family doctor today, and for the first time, felt as though he was laughing at me. "Everyone feels stressed when they're going through the kinds of things you're going through..." comments like that are not helpful. He prescribed some Ativan to help calm me, but I am unable to afford it because I've been basically unable to work more than 4 or 5 hours a week (even that causes major anxiety). My brother has offered to pay for the meds for me, and that embarresses me.
Yesterday my daughter was suspended from school again, and has been knocked back to only mornings at school, making me responsible for picking her up at 11:10am every day. This now makes it impossible for me to work, because no one will take care of her after school, unless my husband is not working. I fear I will lose my job over this. I am also worried about my DBT therapy, as I specifically picked the group that met while my daughter was in school, and now that is no longer the case. Both the DBT therapists were sick this week, so it's been post-poned until next week. Hopefully I will be able to figure something out by then.
I want to run away. I feel like I am a burden others shouldn't have to carry, and that I am just unable to carry the burdens of others, as well. I feel very lost and hopeless. My heart has been thumping in my chest since I got home from the doctor's office. I want to binge, but there is nothing here. I purged for the first time in months last night. I feel like crap... Overwhelmed My thoughts circulate like a shake in a blender. Whiiir.... whiiiiir... I can't seem to stop them. I've lost the off button. I either don't want to eat, or never want to stop. My stomach hurts. My head is pounding. My heart is bleeding. Quickly, these are some of the things circulating.
~ My daughter is getting worse. She is now on medication and not only is it not working, but it seems to be making her even more violent. I'm losing my baby.
~ My husband is on his last rope, and there's nothing I can do to help. I try to hold him, and keep my anguish to myself as much as possible. He's got so much on his plate. I just want to run away so he has one less thing to worry about.
~ I'm still worried I will not be able to handle the DBT starting in a little over a week.
~ I've been planning a Girl's Night Out at my house in six days, and I have no idea how many women are coming. It seems everyone is busy, and I've put alot of work into this night. I'm trying not to take it personally, but I think it's ultra rude when people don't return phone calls and let you know if they're coming to your party.
~ My work has taken me down to one shift a week, and I'm making no money to help with the millions of bills we have.
~ I don't know if we have enough food to make it through the week.
~ I'm having nightmares every night and I'm totally exhausted.
~ A good friend is moving 8 hours away, and I am very sad about that.
For those of you out there with BPD, or a loved one with it, there is a new site I've found that has really helped me feel a bit less alone.
I am, of course, the Princess Shiray listed there. Feel free to stop by.
*new addition, later that day* ~ We've now recieved our two month eviction notice. I have put my heart and soul into this house, and now I have until February 1st to find a new home for us. I hate renting and being at the mercy of the landlords and their whims. He sold the house; we're out. And there's nearly a foot of snow on the ground, -15 degrees outside. Not nice house-hunting weather. I want to curl up in a little ball and cry and cry and cry. How much more can I handle? My chest is aching... the panic is coming. I don't want to move!!! I love my house. My daughter doesn't respond well to moves, either. This is the last thing we need right now as a family. Did I mention that since we've moved here, the prices for rentals has nearly doubled?! How are we supposed to afford another house? Good heavens... I can't believe this is happening. I just can't beleve it... BPD Diagnosis, Therapy, Work and Other Stuff Last Tuesday I was formally diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder by my psychiatrist, and my Luvox was increased from 100mg to 150mg. I have had a migraine ever since, sadly. I am sort of relieved to have a diagnosis, so that I can recieve some help, and for the simple peace of knowing what is wrong. I've felt all my life that there was something fundamentally wrong with me, and now I know why. For that reason, I am grateful for the label. On the other hand, I don't WANT to have BPD. No one WANTS to have a mental illness, never mind such a serious one. This is way beyond simple depression. Way beyond an eating disorder. Way beyond anger management. It's everything. And frankly, I'm terrified of it. I'm terrified of trying to beat it. But I need to. Which brings us to therapy.
Dialectical Behavioural Therapy ~ "The techniques used in DBT are extensive and varied, addressing essentially every aspect of therapy and they are underpinned by a dialectical philosophy that recommends a balanced, flexible and systemic approach to the work of therapy. Techniques for achieving change are balanced by techniques of acceptance, problem solving is surrounded by validation, confrontation is balanced by understanding. The patient is helped to understand her problem behaviours and then deal with situations more effectively. She is taught the necessary skills to enable her to do so and helped to deal with any problems that she may have in applying them in her natural environment. The method is supported by empirical evidence which suggests that it is successful in reducing self-injury and time spent in psychiatric in-patient treatment."
I will be doing... Core mindfulness skills. Interpersonal effectiveness skills. Emotion modulation skills. Distress tolerance skills.
STAGE 1 focuses on suicidal behaviours, therapy interfering behaviours and behaviours that interfere with the quality of life, together with developing the necessary skills to resolve these problems.
STAGE 2 deals with post-traumatic stress related problems (PTSD)
STAGE 3 focuses on self-esteem and individual treatment goals.
I start December 6th at a treatment facility in town. I go once a week for 3 hours, in a group therapy envirnoment. Again, I am relieved to finally be learning these skills, and also terrified. Basically, I'm terrified I will fail miserably, or I won't have the strength to do it, and there is just no hope for me. But I'm going to go, and I'm going to try my hardest. I have also ordered a book my psychiatrist suggested: Borderline Personality Disorder Demystified. I should get it next week, and I will start that as well.
Work is getting increasingly difficult. One of my co-worker's husband had a heart attack, so she was unable to work this week, which left me doing her shifts, and back up to 16 hours this week, doubling my hours. 16 hours may not seem like much, and indeed I used to be working 30+ hours a few months ago, but right now it's all I can do to get out of bed. In fact, this morning I went to work without brushing my hair... I didn't mean to, I just forgot. My hatred of the mirror and my reflection is being amplified by having to see myself dozens of times a day in the mirrors at work. I seem to be getting uglier by the day, and hate seeing myself. I am glad to be off of the selling floor and stuck in the back room unpacking the new stock tomorrow. No mirrors, and no sales target. Just me, the clothes, and hangers. My kind of day.
The increase in medication has caused a constant headache and drowsiness. It has calmed the suicidal thoughts down a bit, but I am still finding it hard to focus and deal with daily life. Just getting out of bed in the morning, getting my daughter's lunch ready, helping her get dressed, making her breakfast, sometimes driving my husband to work along with my daughter to school, and getting back home or to work is exhausting. Some days I could come back home and sleep the day away, if given the chance. I just feel... worn out. On edge. I've been letting my husband take the car to work when I can and staying home. No coffee with friends, no walks. Just work, and therapy. Oh, and dance practice, which is getting very hard to go to. With the amount of panic attacks I'm having, my chest cavity feels tight, and it's difficult to breathe. I am also getting more out of shape, seeing as all I want to do is lay around, so practicing new dances is tiring and confusing. I just don't feel like I have the mental focus to remember the steps, and the increase in meds makes me dizzy when I do turns. But I am battling through it, and will attend the performance we have this weekend, though I don't "FEEL" like doing it.
But that's the problem, isn't it? My feelings. Not being able to regulate them. Living ruled by them. There's a section of a paper I wanted to share, where I got the information about the therapy I will be doing in a few weeks which describes where this comes from in a woman with BPD, which I thought sounded eerily familiar. If you know me, you will recognize these thoughts, patterns and behaviours. I hope to change that soon. I have been told that if I stick to the therapy and it's practices, I will see relief from my symptoms in six months to two years.
If you wish to see the research paper in it's entirety, it is located at www.priory.com/dbt.htm Again, as before, I have bolded the areas that I particularily identify with.
"The child's personal communications are not accepted as an accurate indication of her true feelings and it is implied that, if they were accurate, then such feelings would not be a valid response to circumstances. Furthermore, an Invalidating Environment is characterised by a tendency to place a high value on self-control and self-reliance. Possible difficulties in these areas are not acknowledged and it is implied that problem solving should be easy given proper motivation. Any failure on the part of the child to perform to the expected standard is therefore ascribed to lack of motivation or some other negative characteristic of her character.
She will neither have the opportunity accurately to label and understand her feelings nor will she learn to trust her own responses to events. Neither is she helped to cope with situations that she may find difficult or stressful, since such problems are not acknowledged. It may be expected then that she will look to other people for indications of how she should be feeling and to solve her problems for her. However, it is in the nature of such an environment that the demands that she is allowed to make on others will tend to be severely restricted. The child's behaviour may then oscillate between opposite poles of emotional inhibition in an attempt to gain acceptance and extreme displays of emotion in order to have her feelings acknowledged. Erratic response to this pattern of behaviour by those in the environment may then create a situation of intermittent reinforcement resulting in the behaviour pattern becoming persistent.
Linehan groups the features of BPD in a particular way, describing the patients as showing dysregulation in the sphere of emotions, relationships, behaviour, cognition and the sense of self. She suggests that, as a consequence of the situation that has been described, they show six typical patterns of behaviour, the term 'behaviour' referring to emotional, cognitive and autonomic activity as well as external behaviour in the narrow sense.
Firstly, they show evidence of 'emotional vulnerability' as already described. They are aware of their difficulty coping with stress and may blame others for having unrealistic expectations and making unreasonable demands.
On the other hand they have internalised the characteristics of the Invalidating Environment and tend to show 'self-invalidation'. They invalidate their own responses and have unrealistic goals and expectations, feeling ashamed and angry with themselves when they experience difficulty or fail to achieve their goals.
These two features constitute the first pair of so-called 'dialectical dilemmas', the patient's position tending to swing between the opposing poles since each extreme is experienced as being distressing.
Next, they tend to experience frequent traumatic environmental events, in part related to their own dysfunctional lifestyle and exacerbated by their extreme emotional reactions with delayed return to baseline. This results in what Linehan refers to as a pattern of 'unrelenting crisis', one crisis following another before the previous one has been resolved. On the other hand, because of their difficulties with emotion modulation, they are unable to face, and therefore tend to inhibit, negative affect and particularly feelings associated with loss or grief. This 'inhibited grieving' and the 'unrelenting crisis' constitute the second 'dialectical dilemma'.
The opposite poles of the final dilemma are referred to as 'active passivity' and 'apparent competence'. Patients with BPD are active in finding other people who will solve their problems for them but are passive in relation to solving their own problems. On the other hand, they have learned to give the impression of being competent in response to the Invalidating Environment. In some situations they may indeed be competent but their skills do not generalise across different situations and are dependent on the mood state of the moment. This extreme mood dependency is seen as being a typical feature of patients with BPD.
A pattern of self-mutilation tends to develop as a means of coping with the intense and painful feelings experienced by these patients and suicide attempts may be seen as an expression of the fact that life is at times simply does not seem worth living. These behaviours in particular tend to result in frequent episodes of admission to psychiatric hospitals. Dialectical Behaviour Therapy, which will now be described, focuses specifically on this pattern of problem behaviours and in particular, the parasuicidal behaviour."
That's it for now, folks. I'm still here, still fighting. Glad to know what's wrong, and determined to kick the crap out of it. As always, your comments are welcome. Thanks for being there. ~S~
Halloween, Unjust Words, and Baby Lotion Happy Halloween, everyone. I made it through in one piece. So did the kidlet. She was a beautiful tiger, and she roared/purred at every house and was pricelessly adorable. I wanted to smother her in kisses but I would have rubbed off the makeup. Of course, I will post a pic as soon as it's dowloaded and editted, as always.
She was much more hyper this year, and much harder to focus. I had to tell her several times not to touch different things like people's decorations or cars, etc. It occured to me tonight that she's started touching alot more things lately, even things she knows she's not supposed to, and it's almost like she's in a trance when she does it. I've heard of some people with OCD having to knock on every piece of wood they see three times, or having to touch every door frame they go under, things like that. I'm becoming worried that something like this is happening to my baby girl, and another ritual is being piled on to her already busy mind.
It was a fun night, but after all the "Sit stills!" while I did her face makeup, and the "Don't touch that!"s, and the "Be careful! Stop running!"s... I'm glad, it's another year before I have to do that again!
There is a sweet little girl at my daughter's school, every day after school, and before. She is the little sister of a girl who used to be in my daughter's classroom last year. She used to brighten my day with her hugs and smiles and funny conversations that only a 3 or 4 year old can have with you. She was a joy.
I noticed last week that she wasn't talking to me as much... in fact, I wasn't getting any hugs, or even a smile out of her. Finally this afternoon, I found out why, and it's REALLY pissed me off. She was playing with a ball around me, and I asked her if she wanted to play pass, and this is how it went...
Her: "No, I will go find someone else to play with."
Me: "Why? Why can't you play with me?"
Her: "Because Keegan is bad." (my daughter)
Me: "Why is she bad?"
Her: "I don't know, that's just what my Mommy said, so I'm not allowed to talk to her, or you. Bye!"
And away she went.
Now, if this little girl and her older sister, who was purposely put in another classroom than my daughter because of both of their bad behaviours, were some kind of saints or something, and my kid was a bad influence on them, I might understand this. But this kid in the other class, I'll call her "Sally", was so horrendous in school that she had to be seperated from all the other "difficult" children so my daughter's teacher wouldn't be overwhelmed. (There is my daughter and a boy with ADHD in her class.) "Sally" has a disgusting potty mouth, screams at the top of her lungs almost continually, and likes to show off her privacy parts! I had her over to our house once last year for a play date and I told Keegan she was never coming over again! She was a complete troll! Now her mother has the ordacity to call MY kid "bad"??! Don't get me wrong, I don't care if my daughter doesn't get to play with "Sally", in fact, I would prefer she didn't, but what does this have to do with me playing ball with "Sally"'s little sister, who is actually sweet and gentle? Several times I wanted to walk over to her mother and ask her what the heck was going on, but I chickened out... one, because I was very angry and was afraid I might say or do something stupid, and two, because I hate getting into arguments with people and avoid it at all costs.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to stomp. I wanted my daughter to be different, or the world to be more understanding. I wanted... justice. I don't know what I wanted. Just... something more. Something different. *I* wanted to be different, too. Maybe if I was different, she would be, too. And we would both be happier. My poor angel.
After we got the makeup washed off, it was into the bath to soak away the cold weather. Minus one degree celsius.... craziness. After the bubbles were gone and the toys were put away, and she was dry, I noticed her skin was looking dry and bumpy again, so I pulled out the lotion. It's the same lotion I used when she was born. It's almost empty. It's probably the third bottle of it.... at least, I hope it's not literally the same bottle as when she was born, since that was 7 and 1/2 years ago, but... the smell.... wow. As I rubbed it on her back I was whisked away to simpler times, when all she did was eat, sleep, and poop. When she wanted to sleep on my stomach. When she smiled at me with no haunting sadness in her eyes. I smelt the scent of pure, innocent love between a mother and her child and it made me weep. My darling, precious, beautiful Miracle. How I love you. xoxoxo ~Mommy~ Memory Lane and Unknown People Today was a walk down memory lane, in a good and a bad sense. First, my daughter went out for a few hours with her father (my exhusband), and I had to coach her on how to talk to him, and assert her boundaries, because she wanted time with just the two of them. It reminded me of being a little girl and being in the psychiatrist's office, at 6 years old, practicing with him on a plastic Fisher Price phone, trying to get up the nerve to tell him I didn't want to come visit him. I wish I could remember why I felt that way. I don't remember very much from my childhood before the age of 13, but I remember that red phone very well. It was one of the hardest things I did as a child, and seeing my baby go through it this morning was heart breaking. Thankfully, we prayed together, and Jesus heard and answered her prayer; the talk went well, and they had a good time.
On good memory lane, seeing as how it's almost Haloween, the cartoons reflected the season this morning, and I got to sit and watch the old classics I watched as a kid and a teenager, like Ghostbusters and Beetlejuice (my personal fave).
Tonight I've been invited to a party in the basement suite downstairs, where I will only know one person (the tenant) and I don't know her very well. I was able to invite a friend, but no one can come. So I am having to brave it alone. I used to be able to go to places where I didn't know anyone, but lately it has started causing panic attacks. I'm trying to remain calm and go with a positive attitude. One of the things I'm woried about is that there will be food there (since it's a Watkins party), and I have a tendancy to binge when I'm nervous, which I hate doing infront of anyone, but especially strangers. Hopefully if I eat before I go, I'll be able to control myself. But as the scale has been showing, I haven't been doing so well in that area lately.
I used to be an extrovert. I used to love parties, and meeting new people. Now I hate it. I wish I could take my husband with me, but he's at work, and it's supposed to be a girl's night out. *groan* I should have told her I couldn't find a babysitter or something. Oh well... what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?? RIGHT??!?
(help!) Sweet Slumber Sleep. All I want to do today is sleep. Oh, and eat. Yes, we can't forget that. I haven't eaten much in the last four days, due to an annoying flu bug that won't leave my stomach alone, but what I have managed to eat hasn't been very healthy. And I don't particularily care. I'm having one of those sad, lazy, the-world-hates-me-so-I-think-I'll-eat-a-pint-of-icecream-but-I-don't-have-icecream-so-I'll-eat-anything-in-sight days. I hate these kind of days, but no matter how hard I try, I can never seem to break free of them. Maybe if it wasn't raining outside and freezing cold, I would consider going for a walk to clear my head. But not today. No way. Too wet. Too cold. Too tired.
I feel completely mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted. A friend recently said, when asked why she didn't do something to change a maddening circumstance in her life... "It's like you're dying, like literally DYING, and people are saying 'Run a marathon! You can do it!'... NO, actually, I can't!" .... *sigh* I feel that way. SO MUCH. I love my husband, and I love my kid, and I like my job and I love my family and my friends, but some days I just feel like I'm dying... slowly, crippling, internally dying and I hear the voices..."Take care of your daughter! Love your husband! Clean the house! Faster! Unpack those last boxes! Make dinner! Visit your old Grandma! Go to work! Work harder! Ignore the pain! Smile, and LIKE IT!"
Maybe it's my own voice I hear. I don't know. I just know I want it to shut the hell up. I can't do it all. I don't want to do it all. It's not fair that I have to do it all. Just.... shut..... up....
And how do we shut it up? Sleep. And pray we don't dream. So, here, at 7:15pm, I am going to sleep. To shut up the voices... and maybe, get some freaking peace. Avoidance Queen Usually, I am a princess. I want to be treated as such. Buy me flowers. Stroke my hair. Massage my feet. Say you love me. Etc. But when it comes to the subject of avoidance, I am the Queen. The Master. I would go so far as to say, perhaps even the Emperess of Avoidance. I do it well. I'm good at it. Much to my detriment.
I have officially handed over my key at work and am no longer a KeyHolder. I have officially cut back my hours to practically nothing. Which means I will be coming to a point very soon where I will have alot of free time on my hands. This is where avoidance rears it's ugly head in my life.
What do I chose to do with that free time? In the past, when I have been on medical leave, and not working for either back pain or mental illness, or a combination of both, I have wasted alot of the time I could have taken to heal, get to know myself, find out what I like, what I don't, who I like, who I don't, read, exercise, research or otherwise better myself. I have wasted it watching tv, playing video games, sleeping, or occupying myself with friends... which can be a good thing, unless I completely forget to take care of myself, and do the before-mentioned things.
So here comes my chance. My chance to change from the Queen of Avoidance to the Princess of Self-Discovery. Your prayers, advice, and butt-kickings are welcome.
 Diagnosis, Work, and Marraige My daughter's psychiatry appointment went well, and we have a formal diagnosis; Severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, as well as Attention Deficit Disorder with some Hyper-Activity, and perhaps some Asperger's Syndrome. In layman's terms; she gets stuck on things, can't let go, but only when she's paying attention, which isn't often, even though she's brilliant, which you wouldn't know because she acts like a goof. *sigh* My poor baby. We see the Doctor again in the middle of November to talk about behavioural therapy and medications. She may have to start Prozac... I'm torn about that. She only weighs 47 pounds for Heaven's sake... that had better be a REALLY small dosage! The behavioural therapy will be good, though. Upwards and onwards, with extra hugs and kisses for my baby girl. So beautiful. And already so insecure. Any suggestions on how to convince a 7 year old that she's special and beautiful would be appreciated.
Work blows right now. I worked 8 hours yesterday and I was exhausted, frustrated and panic-stricken afterwards. I work 7 hours tonight and 8 tomorrow, as well. Then I hope I get some time off, which I don't know about yet, because the schedule's not up yet, even though it starts in 2 days.... GRRRRR.... just thinking about going to work in a half an hour is already causing an anxiety attack. I'm starting to wonder if I'm ever going to be able to hold a job.
Pleasantly, my darling husband Greg has been very supportive and loving through this last week of hell. He's massaged me, tucked me into bed early, covered me with blankets, held me while I cried, held my hair back while I puked (so sorry you had to do that, Honey!), put Deep Cold on my back, made dinner, vacuumed, and even did a load of laundry. Apparently, having a breakdown has it's priviledges! I don't want to make it a habit, though.
Seriously, it's good to know that I have a man who takes "through sickness and health, etc" to heart, and loves me through the tears, snot, puke, and outbursts. Thanks again, Baby. xoxoxox
~S~ Who Is This Man?I lay motionless
his breath on my face.
My arm around his shoulder;
his around my waist,
fingers lazily drawing circles on my skin.
I breathe him in.
Deep.
Who is this man?
Who is this man who in the daylight seems so calm and stern?
It is the man who stirs my soul and body to yearn.
Who is this man who in the day drives the car a little too fast?
He is the one who holds my heart firmly in his grasp.
Who is this man who lays at night so closely I can hear him breathe?
It is the man that in the day touches my wrist to feel my heart beat.
Who is this man who loves so dear, so complete, so honestly,
that even in the midst of my worst pain, I know I am safe
to be my worst self,
to find my best self,
to just simply.... BE
and be accepted for whatever that means?
He is the man I call my Lover.
My Best Friend.
The one who pulled me from the gates of hell
and shows me heaven in the blue of his eyes.
My husband. My love.
Thank you.
~S~
Around the Corner From Crazy? I had this big long blog typed out, detailing my life the last four days or so, and my Explorer shut down on me and all was lost. I'm way too tired and out of it to retype it all, so here's an overview of the crap that's been going on in my head...
~ an episode in walmart where I couldn't remember who I was or what I was doing for about 30 seconds or so.
~ daily panic attacks, anywhere from one to six a day.
~ a strange sense of surrealness, accompanied with vague memories that I'm not sure are real.
~ vivid, incredibly real dreams I awake from and am 80% sure must have happened.
~ reoccuring thoughts of selfharm accompanied by nonchalance.... why don't I go lay down in traffic? Yes, that would be fine.
~ disorientated, foggy and totally exhausted.
I've managed to keep myself in check today by sleeping and baking. One shuts the mind down, the other keeps it busy. So I have a freezer full of cookies and muffins, and the couch is a mess from my nap, and I still feel... not here. Not right. If I had the car today, and if I didn't have my daughter's psyche evaluation to go to in two days, I probably would have driven myself to the hospital. The thought occured to me today that it might be a good idea... of course, it came with a healthy dose of "Who gives a shit?", so.... here I sit.
Around the corner from CrazyLand? Ticket for one, please. BPD, The Weekend, and "Click" For your reading and viewing pleasure today, this entry will be colour-coded into four sections... my thoughts on BPD, The Weekend I spent with my husband, the movie "Click", and the quote of the day. Please enjoy. And comment. There are far too few comments around here, and I am staging a formal protest. You read, you comment. New rule.
 BPD ~ Borderline Personality Disorder. I went to my first group therapy session outside of the hospital yesterday. It's an assessment group. So, I'm being assessed. When they figure out what's wrong with me, they will put me in another group, probably the BPD group. At least, I hope that's the group I get assigned to, so I can learn how to deal with my thought patterns and behaviours, change them, and have a more normal life. I have to meet with a psychiatrist first and get a formal, on paper diagnosis, then we can get the ball rolling. I pretty much already know this is what I have, though. A counsellor pointed out the symptoms to me several years ago, before Greg and I got married, and they fit me so exactly, it's frightening. Here is a chunk of a website about BPD, for those of you not up to snuff on this un-fun mental illness...
Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is a serious mental illness characterized by pervasive instability in moods, interpersonal relationships, self-image, and behavior. This instability often disrupts family and work life, long-term planning, and the individual's sense of self-identity. Originally thought to be at the "borderline" of psychosis, people with BPD suffer from a disorder of emotion regulation. While less well known than schizophrenia or bipolar disorder (manic-depressive illness), BPD is more common, affecting 2 percent of adults, mostly young women.1 There is a high rate of self-injury without suicide intent, as well as a significant rate of suicide attempts and completed suicide in severe cases.2,3 Patients often need extensive mental health services, and account for 20 percent of psychiatric hospitalizations.4 Yet, with help, many improve over time and are eventually able to lead productive lives.
SymptomsWhile a person with depression or bipolar disorder typically endures the same mood for weeks, a person with BPD may experience intense bouts of anger, depression, and anxiety that may last only hours, or at most a day.5 These may be associated with episodes of impulsive aggression, self-injury, and drug or alcohol abuse. Distortions in cognition and sense of self can lead to frequent changes in long-term goals, career plans, jobs, friendships, gender identity, and values. Sometimes people with BPD view themselves as fundamentally bad, or unworthy. They may feel unfairly misunderstood or mistreated, bored, empty, and have little idea who they are. Such symptoms are most acute when people with BPD feel isolated and lacking in social support, and may result in frantic efforts to avoid being alone.People with BPD often have highly unstable patterns of social relationships. While they can develop intense but stormy attachments, their attitudes towards family, friends, and loved ones may suddenly shift from idealization (great admiration and love) to devaluation (intense anger and dislike). Thus, they may form an immediate attachment and idealize the other person, but when a slight separation or conflict occurs, they switch unexpectedly to the other extreme and angrily accuse the other person of not caring for them at all. Even with family members, individuals with BPD are highly sensitive to rejection, reacting with anger and distress to such mild separations as a vacation, a business trip, or a sudden change in plans. These fears of abandonment seem to be related to difficulties feeling emotionally connected to important persons when they are physically absent, leaving the individual with BPD feeling lost and perhaps worthless. Suicide threats and attempts may occur along with anger at perceived abandonment and disappointments.People with BPD exhibit other impulsive behaviors, such as excessive spending, binge eating and risky sex. BPD often occurs together with other psychiatric problems, particularly bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety disorders, substance abuse, and other personality disorders.TreatmentTreatments for BPD have improved in recent years. Group and individual psychotherapy are at least partially effective for many patients. Within the past 15 years, a new psychosocial treatment termed dialectical behavior therapy (DBT) was developed specifically to treat BPD, and this technique has looked promising in treatment studies.6 Pharmacological treatments are often prescribed based on specific target symptoms shown by the individual patient. Antidepressant drugs and mood stabilizers may be helpful for depressed and/or labile mood. Antipsychotic drugs may also be used when there are distortions in thinking.7
I highlighted in red the areas that I struggle with on a daily basis. This quote doesn't talk about the paranoia I experience on a daily basis, but that goes along with the distorted thinking patterns (thinking people hate me and only pretend to love me, people are going to leave me, etc). So if I get into this other group, I will be starting the dialectical behavioural therapy, which is going to cut down on my time spent at work, but I'm okay with that. I need to get this under control. I hate living like this. It will be nice to finally get some answers, and go somewhere I am understood... I have known for years I was more than just "different"... that there was something fundamentally not right about me. Now I know why, and I intend to do my best to fix it. I have already resigned from my position as Sales Floor Supervisor at work to spend more time with my daughter and to make time for her therapy appointments and mine. Our relationship, my relationship with my husband, and with my Mom, are the three hardest ones for me. I love them so hard I suffocate them, or I hate them. I need to fix that. I don't want to live like this anymore, and I don't want to hurt my daughter emotionally because of my own illness. I just hope I haven't completely screwed up her formative years. I love her so much. I need to get well.
The Weekend with my husband... we did get to go away, as planned, for one night. We stayed at a fancy bed and breakfast, and relaxed, watched some movies, took a jacuzzi bath together, talked alot (which was super nice), and made love... and then... I lost it. I don't know why. I think, after such a long day of spending time together, finally reconnecting after months of feeling alone, after we made love it was such a beautiful moment, I got scared. Actually, I'm always scared. I constantly worry about losing Greg. I started to cry. Then I started to bawl. Then I was weeping so uncontrollably I couldn't breathe. I didn't have any coherant thoughts at the time, I didn't know why I was freaking out, and I just kept thinking "oh my goodnesss, we've travelled all this way and had such a nice time and now I'm completely ruining it! STOP CRYING, YOU FREAK!" and of course, the more I thought about those kinds of things, the harder I cried. It wasn't until he held me and said "Shhh.... it's okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay." that I realized I was just afraid. Afraid of losing the only person that knows EVERY disgusting, hideous, foul thing about me, and still thinks I'm "amazing" and "beautiful". I shake my head in disbelief, even now, as I type it. I think he may just be crazier than I am! He says he wishes I could see myself as he sees me. Honey, I wish that, too. Don't give up on me. I'm trying. With all my heart, I want to be well. Please continue to help me. I love you so very much, my Darling. My Lover. My Friend. xoxoxoxo Let's go away together again soon. I cherish every moment we spend together. Thank you for loving me. "Click" We watched this movie with some friends last night. If you haven't seen it, do so. IMMEDIATELY. It is now one of my favourite movies. I laughed, I cried, I thunk hard. It was amazing. I won't say too much about it, because I don't want to give away the ending or anything, but I will say this... I have always felt very strongly that the mentality of "I'm going to work really hard and long hours so my kids can have nice bikes and we can live in a big house and I can drive a fancy car" was idiotic. I have seen myself in the last year, since Greg's photography business has really started taking off, what working long hours does to a family. I saw it in my family growing up, when I felt like my Mom was never around, and she worked Christmas for the overtime so she could afford my swimming lessons, music lessons, etc... I understand the heart-felt love behind it, as I do for my husband, as well. But I also know this. Looking back, I couldn't give a rat's ass about piano lessons. I wanted my Mom. And I know this now, as well. I couldn't give a rat's ass about doing another wedding. I want my husband, and I want our kids to have a father. Period. I'm not suggesting we close our business, because I know how much it means to my husband, to have that creative output. But I will be putting my foot down this year and make sure I am heard, and every booking is spaced out, and we have enough time together as a family. Working hard for your family to get ahead is great, but if you wake up in ten years and you don't know your wife, and your kids hate you, is it worth it? You've worked for nothing. If you're reading this, and you're working your ass off for the family you never see... I suggest you take a really good look at your priorities. Because as a wife, a mother, and a woman that was once a child of a workaholic, I can tell you, your family would rather have you than a new house. I promise you. If you don't believe me, go ask them. And now, for the quote of the day... "The small world of the child, the family milieu, is the model for the big world. The more intensely the family sets its stamp on the child, the more he will be emotionally inclinced, as an adult, to see in the great world his former small world." Dr. Carl Jung (Shiray's translation~ your childhood is a model for your adulthood. If you feel loved as a child, you will carry that with you. If you are made to feel alone, seperate and evil as a child, you will carry that with you, as well. Choose what you say and do to your children carefully. Model well. That is my challenge to you all today.) |
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