amidst distraction

my battle continues from immensely overpower sadness to being the happy eccentric version of myself I like… lately it’s been mostly the latter, I have managed to fill my days with events, family and acquiring knowledge.  So stopping to listen to the whispers in my ears and mind has been a lot harder and far between… however distractions never work forever and unless plans in place to remove of fight the whispers they do become shouting to thunderous roars don’t they….

my mind has been circling like a shark with constant thoughts of my parents the last few days like jaws about to take her bite, I wonder if they miss me… I highly doubt it as they live close and still choose to have no contact or place in my life…. I know i’m to blame as well, I never wrote them off and they haven’t me, but no effort is made on their parts, and I stopped mine long ago after numerous attempts with no avail… I do miss them, I miss movie talks with my father, he’s ‘dad jokes’ I have heard a dozens of times,  I miss him with my step mother, and playing like an actual tv family when I lived with them for a short while.  a mother and father a dinner table having conversations, cleaning up after dinner and watching tv together.  I miss my mom’s lame dancing, when we would put on records and listen to music, I miss making her laugh so hard she peed her pants…. I miss looking after her house actually, I miss being the mother there and relying on myself to get things done and them getting done.  I miss the idea I guess.  But as my woe is me world of late and the knowledge and remembrance of the many who have actual bailed out of being amongst my life, I’ve caught myself wondering if they miss me, I, me would never tempt such a thought, but the monster does, do they wonder about me, do they see things some times that remind them of me, do they worry about me at all…. Monster equates with your own parents don’t care about you of course no one else is going to…. I wasn’t abandoned on a church step, I wasn’t given up for adoption, I wasn’t lost one day in a department store or kidnapped, my parents live 15 mins away and 1 hour away, I visit others in the same house and I’ll get barely hello, how’s your life…. why are they not curious about me, how can you be with in arms reach of your own family and not reach out.

my heart hurts, my story continues;

Toil and Trouble

I think I’m having a harder time then i’m willing to admit.  I feel that one such as me that is on varied medication shouldn’t still be having low lows…. But I am… I’m needing to fill every minute, but it has to be certain distractions, I can’t practise things as I’ll feel stupid… i’m restless, i’m sad, i’m spending money I don’t have.

A hard thing about when you need help, is not knowing how to ask, or what exactly I need.  People of course are lovely and say if you need anything… blah blah, but how do you call someone or text them and say um i’m feeling really crap, I can’t sit still and listen to you yet I need your distraction, I can’t hear a compliment but I need to hear something nice, I need to stop spending money, but I need certain things…. it’s hard to ask for something you don’t know how to express much less know what I actually need.

as I said in my last post, when you write the way you are feeling they are just words floating on a white screen… saying them out loud, like the words expressed last post… sound ridiculously lame, it doesn’t match the feeling, the mood or the body reaction, in fact you say it out loud and it sounds stupid, humiliating and petty….

oh I’m lonely, no body loves me, i’m so fucking tired. i’m disgustingly fat.  I want to do things but I can’t get up…. that’ all sounds so childish but it’s not!

The feelings i’m feeling, helpless, restless, unbearably sad, hopeless.  I want to cry, i feel a vast emptiness… i want to hug my sisters and my nieces but i don’t want my sadness to come close to them.  My heart hurts.

I didn’t get to see my pyscologist today,  i had to word and the next person came late, I wasn’t angry with her, I didn’t get to speak to my pyscologist but his secretary…. I feel like this was a huge event for me, missing it, i wanted to talk, to cry, to have a hug, and  no one around me noticed or cared….

where are the stones…. my path seems halted, my foot hovers over emptiness, i can’t see my stones!

my story continues;

Rumble, ramble

Today I’m not doing great

Rumblings are fighting in my head, I am horrible bitch because of me wanting my client to do certain things so his life will be better. I feel like I go into nag mode and am super annoying. Then later he’s not even listening to me about when I talk about some things that mean something to me, and he cuts me off to talk out loud to himself about something about himself.   Of course, I think, no one wants to hear about my stuff, no one ever wants to hear about stuff that means a lot to me and, why would they? I suck.  I failed at cheering two people up that are such nice people I have taken it very hard.  I seemed to say the wrong thing and made two different people feel worse.  The demon in my head is telling me I make everything about me.  But it’s really not about that.  I feel like at very least my life is for other people and I can’t even do that right! I’m worthless and useless and feel like everyone would be loads better off if I wasn’t around.   With all my issues, I must make loads of things harder for everyone! 

There are people out there with real problems and I can’t get through a fucking day without freaking out over something.  Or feeling horrible about something.  I really don’t have that much power though.  I have very little friends, but those little I do I must be so annoying.

I hate this so much, I hate writing it down cause words fall so flat on this page.  Letters floating on a white screen look so lacking.  The body reacting to these thoughts is so much to it, the dark shadow behind my eyes, moisture leaking.  Heart racing. but heavy chest tight.   My body literally feeling like something heavy is laying on top of me, there is a burn under my skin that is itching to be hurt, I want to drag my knife upon my skin searing it open and feel the punishment of my living when I shouldn’t be.  I want feel pain that I can identify with blood or bruise rather than this disgusting feeling I have in my heart, my soul, my mind, the sickness in my stomach. I feel flat, deflated.  My eyes sting.  Yet I’ll continue tonight, not because I have changed my mind, or positively view tomorrow as a new day and this shit will pass… logically sure I know that.  I will put on my smile and continue cause I’m to chicken shit to do anything else right now… sorry world for now the burden of my existence must continue…. I can’t apologize enough.

My story continues;

Medication costs argh! Being crazy is hard on the bank account.

Here is a vicious cycle for you….

 

As of right now, I’m on two different anxiety medications, a mood stabilizer and have just been given a prescription to start another mood stabilizer…. Now obviously, I won’t need all these forever.  But for the time being…. Can you say cha ching… or PRICEY! These are also not the cheapest things in the world…. So having to take 4 different kind is costing my pretty pennies….

The latest one, I just found out will cost close to $200 for 30.  This I had to turn down for the time being as… ouch! But it got me thinking of this awful merry go round.  Without the mood stabilizer, I will continue to have extreme lows, question my self-worth and all that goes along with it…. Yet if I were to buy, my money problems would get more serve, I might not be able to afford all my bills and then I would go into extreme lows etc…

Or are they so good that you can see you bank account reading zero and still be happy…. Like having one of those step ford smiles on your face as your fridge holds no food and you power goes off and say at least I’m happy, te he.

Then I question the motives of such pricey medication… of course maybe it’s the ingredients or the research behind it we are paying for? But obviously, people buying mood stabilizing drugs, have problems like mine…. Now I’m gonna get dark here, but what if we all couldn’t afford to buy it, and then continue our low moods and spiral worse cause we feel ever more helpless at knowing there could be help but we can’t afford it and we all take our own lives…. Then the government would have loads of less people to tax and score money from….

If you ask me they are just not using their noggins….

Ah alas I’m just venting…. I’m anxious cause I haven’t been able to afford my second anxiety medication so I’m on half my dose, my mood stabilizer is finished as of tomorrow and I’ll need to buy the new one as well…. This is completely undoable really… I’ll have to choose which to get this week and then next week.  Right now I’m close to tears and wish I was just better… I wish I could budget better…. I wish I could buy all the medication other people in similar need for them to and we could all group hug together.   The fight continues.  Monster is telling me I’m useless and stupid… I impulse spent to much before I remembered my medications.  Thanks dude for kicking me when I’m down…

No stone stepped this week, but wait, I wrote about it, I journaled, I am here getting it out and inside of letting things fester in my head dwelling around the drain of ‘you’re an idiot, you’re an idiot, you’re an idiot’ that counts right? Okay you know what I’m gonna count it as a pebble. No stone stepped but there was a pebble 😃 okay.

My story continues;

The Monsters from under our beds…. have moved to our heads.

So I’ve been told recently that writing about depression can be good for oneself as an outlet I guess….

I always wanted to talk about it in the sense of telling people they are not alone in their feelings and thoughts, it can be incredibly lonely having these thoughts and emotions and when you hear someone else describing similar afflictions it’s almost liberating.

Of course this disease, if you will, is different for everyone.   However, knowing others feel similar can be incredible comforting.

So instead of rambling, about my own problems in hopes to get some perspective, I will come at it as hoping to help others because that always drives me a little more than anything self-serving.

 

I deal with depression.  I don’t like to say suffer, though it definitely is a suffer age, I don’t like to say suffer, it makes me feel like a victim and not someone who is trying to help oneself, I’m sorry if you have no problem saying suffer, but it’s just not a word I like to use.

I deal with it, daily.   I’m going to be honest, cause in the biggest sense I’m really talking to myself.  Acceptance blah blah blah

I deal with it daily, cause a least hourly some thought of negativity about myself will dwell inside my head.   I tend to have more than one inner monologue at one time.  The current what I am doing, the planning ahead   and the negative affliction of what is going one.  Right now, my head is thinking for example of the sentence I’m currently completing, the next paragraph I wish to start, and the demon that is telling me that I’m worthless, stupid and why would anyone want to listen to anything I have to say I should shut up and crawl away…. Yes, he’s fun isn’t he.  This demon is a constant voice in my head.  I can ignore him and just have him running in the back ground like a TV rerun, as I’m kind of used to the voice in my head and what he’s saying.  But other times, he grips me with his talons and the pain that splits my head, mind and body in two is too much to bare.   He’s good at reaching me in vulnerable times. Those times when you aren’t thinking, you’re having fun with your friends and someone snaps a picture you are in the background of, I wasn’t thinking of seeing me and then there I am… and then he is there “oh look how disgusting you are, I bet everyone is so embarrassed to have you out with them right now.  You’re bringing them down with your disgustingness” Gee thanks mister demon, I was having fun a minute ago, now I feel ashamed for having fun. But I don’t want to feel ashamed right now cause my friends are having fun and if I suddenly get sad they will stop having fun and need to cheer me up with lies… I’m such a burden…

Oh, it’s a fun circle in my head isn’t it.

Along with constant quips about my useless and worthless nature, he likes to remind me of being a burden on all I know, he likes to say horrid things to me constantly however a constant battle I have with him is the battle of self-harm.

Alas, the thing that makes me feel the most crazy, it’s an embarrassing thing more than anything, I wish to ignore the urge, that seeps in like an addiction to have something hurt me, the demon tells me I should be punished, I need to be in pain for anything he finds stupid, or burdening.

I did something stupid, I need to bleed, I disappointed someone, I need to bleed.

Slowly to oh you didn’t get enough attention, no one said your shirt was nice, why would you expect that…. You’re disgusting… you need to bleed.

I felt better when my self-harm was link more to an overwhelming cloud of stress that I couldn’t get out from under and I knew logic and answers were here but I just couldn’t reach them for the storm, digging into my arm was a way to anchor myself back to earth, to look at the blood seeping through my skin and think holy fuck that was incredibly stupid, oh hey logic here you are! I find all the answers.  Now however, its shift to, all kinds of ways to hurt myself to be in constant pain in the sense of that’s what I deserve.  It’s crazy I know! Logic has no sense here! I cut my toes till they bleed, have blisters on my feet, banged wrists on sharp edges and taken razors to my arm, not to wish death…. Well not at first, but to wish harm, my mind is telling me I deserve to be in constant discomfort.

 

Oh, this is so embarrassing to share all this. But again, I hope that others see it and go oh my goodness, I thought I was the only one that nuts!
For the worried… I am seeking help and you should to. There are ways for us.  I went to my GP who put me on a mental health care plan.  I have appointments with both Psychiatrist and Psychologist

Being bulked billed as well.  I have tried different medications, some for anxiety which I noticed a difference and one for anti-depressant.  While I did notice a bit of a change, I’m now about to try a mood stabilizer so we’ll see how that goes.  While I’m still in it, a small part of me feels better for seeking help and being on medication.  Hope that the stones I’m stepping on are leading to the way out.

 

Previous to meds and doctors I had tried all the other natural ways to get better, exercise, diet changes, hobbies, journals etc. etc., while I still won’t give up on these.  I feel I need to dig deeper and try other things.  As depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain, medication could help balance me out and get better.

 

I guess I wanted to put this out there again for others who deal with similar things… an honest approach to it all…. Writings from deep in it.  And Hopes for some answers.

For now, my story continues;