mental illness awareness

ZONK DAY

Today is such a zonk day. It has been raining since I believe yesterday. What has gotten accomplished today……

Coffee- made by my husband

Poptarts- made by me

Church- which consisted of us both lying horizontally on the couch

Cleaning up Jeremy’s upstairs old office area so that at some point I can take pictures there-me

Bed was made- me

Took shower/straightened hair-me

I decided to pick out another comfortable pair of pajamas. Let’s be for real, these are the best outfits in the world. They are soft, baggy, and relaxing. Why are we not wearing these all the dam time? I bet people would not be so stressed out. I did put on a little makeup but decided to xnay the mascara and eye brow pencil. I mean, those two things are a little intense for knowing I’m not going to be leaving the house. The past few days I have felt sick & weak. Yesterday, I tried to rest a lot. I’ve taken my vitamins, drank emergen C, water, rested more, and prayed to God this would pass. Whenever I fall asleep at random times during the day is never a good sign. Very thankful that tomorrow is a holiday and that there is no mail. This means that I get an extra day to package up my orders.

I made a mind blowing great sale on Ebay over the past few days. I’m not going to go into what it was because I have learned that giving away certain things is not a good idea. However, I learned a lesson. That is to keep my eye out for things I would not expect to look for. Always do research on them too. You may just be holding a gem.

I’m hungry but on days like today, cooking is not happening. My cooking has gone very down hill lately, as I have just not felt up to doing it AT ALL. I’ve also noticed that sometimes I skip lunch or breakfast and remember this at some point during the day. I did ask a Depression Facebook group I joined about easy snacks to make that take little to no effort. People had a lot of good ideas, which I appreciated.

About to head down to preheat the oven. I bet my husband and can, Snuggs, are still laying horizontal. Though I am in no way a lover of pizza, thank goodness for it. It’s so dam easy.

Tonight I Miss Them

It’s crazy how I spend the majority of my life teetering between ice numb and strong as hell. Rarely is there a middle ground of sadness that I allow myself to feel. It is like this fortress is built around me with with guards. For a moment, I am safe because nothing can get to me. No one can leave me. Therefore, nothing could have happened. And then there is that memory that I let slip through. That one painful tear that drops. Causing all of the windows to blow out of my fortress. The bats fly in the windows. An earthquake crumbles everything to the ground. Darkness has found me, as it always does.

Tonight, I feel dark and distraught. I miss Will and Becky in a way that I can’t even explain. It is as if they did something for me just by existing. Even if they did not call, they could. Even if they did not understand, they tried. It blows the windows out of my soul when I look back and remember having to call Will to tell him Becky died. It was a horrible thing to have to do. He was so upset that he called me back after we had just talked. Fast forward a few years later and I find out on Facebook of all fucking places that something had happened too Will. There were messages on his page that did not sound right. People saying what a good person he was. I had to message someone just to figure out what was going on. He was one of those very tough biker guys that had this invincible energy. Someone that always was on the cusp of trouble but managed to escape it. He used to tell me that “I was all he had left.” When I found out he had died, I had no one to call that understood. We had always searched for each other during our lives. Amazingly, we found each other. And then everyone died.

I truly hope that they got the better end of the deal. They had both suffered for so long in different ways. Both deserved to be together, to feel love, and to get of this fucking earth that has gone to hell. Selfishly, I want them here. I’m angry they had to leave. I was not ready but the reality is, I never would be. There is never a right moment where I’m at peace with losing someone I love. There is this voice in my head that says “My time is not God’s time.” He has reasons for everything that happens. My mind cannot even begin to understand or absorb what those are. But I have faith that He knows exactly what is going on. I also know that there is a verse that says He draws near to the brokenhearted. Not only do I believe that but I have felt Him in so many instances in my life. There are never answers but there is comfort and hope. Whenever I grieve greatly I feel Him silently say that He has them. That they are ok. For that, I am so thankful.

My counselor has said that I should just take a day where I let myself cry. Let myself grieve for the little girl I was when I went through emotional trauma. For all the pain that I have numbed out. I’ve cried a lot tonight. The thing about trauma and depression is that it is a very heavy cross to bear. I have a wonderful husband but I often do not let him know the extent of my sadness. In my opinion, it is not fair to burden him with weight that is so heavy. There really is no one in this world that I would wish could feel what this is like. Sadly, I know there are many that know the exact feeling. If you are going through loss, grieving for someone you loved, or have had emotional trauma, please know that my heart absolutely goes out to you. It is a long, hot, and hard road to walk. There are no sandals & your feet always bleed. But you have to believe the road will end somewhere good. What is the point if there is no destiny. Therefore, I encourage you to rise. Keep walking. Try not to look back. When you do, you will find me. For that is where I am tonight.

I’m throwing in something completely random here but the other day I thought about the fact that God chose for the stars to be white. He could have made them blue, green, etc. But he chose white. My belief is that he chose a contrasting color to black because He knew we needed to see the stars. He knew we were going to be in great need of guidance and hope. Choosing white for us was a gift. He never intended for us to be lost. I find great comfort in that.

Balancing

I feel like I am balancing balls. Except, they are fireballs with spikes. I’m juggling them while I am on a bike, that I don’t know how to ride. I bought coffee a few hours ago and heated it up once already. I just tried it and it is cold. Fuck my life. It’s been mentally exhausting lately with counseling, healing, trust issues, and everything else that goes along with the quote, “the struggle is real.”

If anything, I have come to know that nothing gets better unless work is done. One must own their actions, learn from them, and use that knowledge to build themselves up higher. What I do not have a tolerance for is when people decide to not do those things. To put it nicely, they prefer to sit in their shit. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been there. Some days, I am still there. What gives me hope is the days where I feel progress has been made. Currently, my recovery progress is being hindered by other things and people in my life. I sympathize with mental illness and support anyone who is going through it. Dealing with conditions like Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Bipolar, Manic Depression, Etc, I feel is one of the hardest things to explain. It’s a sickness that is invisible to others. And yet so painful to survive.

I’m in counseling and plan to be for a very long time. As is my husband. Out of respect for my marriage and him, I do not discuss in detail a lot of the things that I witness or feel related to his illness. I just want to say lately that it has been hard. To the point that I felt I was hitting a breaking point emotionally because I am so burned out. My counselor explained that it was important to get the ball back into his court so that I did not have to carry both. His counselor agreed today that one person cannot carry another. I can’t lie, I’m thankful they acknowledged that. We talked with his counselor today a while over the phone. I’m encouraged after the conversation and feel that there is a better support network there than I previously thought.

After this though, I wrote out notes about tomorrows session with one of his doctors. I also typed out an outline of today’s counseling session for us to hold onto. This is something I have even yet to do for my own counseling sessions. He came in to see what I was doing and then was about to leave the room. I asked if he appreciated that I did this stuff for him. He said that he did and gave me a hug & kiss. It sucks I always have to ask him to get that kind of response. I do not know why it is not obvious that I am fighting to save him, when I should be fighting for myself. In a marriage though, I do believe there comes a time where you need to lean on one another. Too many people these days give up, walk out, or turn to holding hostility against the other. I’ve always wanted my marriage to be much different than this. I love my husband and find him to have wonderful qualities. His heart is good, his hands are gentle, his eyes are curious, and he has some hilarious socks. Giving up or walking out are not something I consider as options. Finding resources, reaching out, and using any strength I have to help him is on the table though.

The difficult thing is, where does that leave me mentally ? When I am not ok, who is taking care of me? Or better yet, who is even noticing? I have a Mother’s With Narcissism book that I am supposed to be reading for my therapy. I’ve read very little of it. Also, the majority of my counseling sessions are now taken up discussing my husband and how things are affecting me. It’s exhausting and makes my progress feel like it is going backwards.

I hope tomorrow when we talk to his doctor that we can find a balance. That everyone can get on the same dam page. That all of this energy I am putting into helping him will be worth it. Until then, I may go buy another coffee that is actually hot. You can find me in the book section of Goodwill. Going to get out and get some fresh air. Life look differently when you do that.

Trauma Recovery

If you are in trauma recovery, my heart goes out to you. I’m in the process of going through it and dam, does it challenge me mentally & physically & financially. It’s hard remembering moments that hurt me, people that left, etc. There is absolutely nothing about discussing those topics that is easy. I also do not think I would ever get to a point where I was “ready” to go there. I’ve realized that healing goes hand in hand with bravery. We must be willing to face topics that have affected us our entire lives. Basically, trauma recovery for me is excavating a lot of pain that I have buried within myself.

After going to counseling, I went to Goodwill and spent some money. I tend to escape from being overwhelmed by going shopping. Today, I found a $4.99 chair & ottoman. Both were in well loved condition. Even though the chair did not appeal to me, I did not think it was a bad price for the ottoman. I learned today that 1 ottoman will take up your entire buggy. Another discovery I made was a three level train station toy. Normally, I would not purchase something like that because it is for older kids. But this one was well made, condensed size, and pretty adorable. This toy was $4.99 too. I just looked it up on Google and found it selling on Ebay for $79.99. #score

I picked up a few other smaller items like a candle scented “winter” and a metal candle holder. There were a few baby outfits & a jacket that I decided on. It is really challenging to know what to get. Especially, if you do not know if you are going to be adopting a girl or boy. But I do know this, the price is good.

The resellers were definitely out today (myself included). I did not buy anything to sell though. Mainly, I was shopping to bring my anxiety down. Of course, those other customers may have been doing the same thing. It is just interesting to listen to people and watch what they fill their buggy with. There is this friendly competitiveness amongst that is head scratching. On the one hand, I hear women cheerful as all hell talking to each other while they shop. On the other, I get the sense that they are ready to take out their box cutter and slit throats if an item comes out that they want.

When I got home, I was absolutely starving. After making vegetable noodles (and only eating the noodles), I headed straight for the peanut butter cookies. I’m literally holding myself back from eating all of them. I picked out 1 cookie. It was the largest one in the box but hey, it still counts as one right. It was really good. But after my husband, Chihuahua, Cocker Spaniel, and two cats had a bite..the cookie was no longer quite as large. If you want to eat less calories get a husband & lots of pets. That should do the trick.

I’m now going to listen to Stephanie Harlowe’s new True Crime youtube video. She did an update on the Madeleine McCann case. It is mind blowing to think that they still do not know what happened to that little girl. Even more shocking that her parents would leave her in a rental, with the door unlocked, while they went out to eat with friends. My husband just scared the crap out of me. He cleared his throat in hopes of not startling me. That effort alone scared me. I’m about the most on edge person you will probably ever meet. He is sweet though and tickled me with his scruffy beard kisses.

Going to end here. Hopefully I will find the strength to walk the dogs later tonight. That, or go lie down underneath the blanket and never return. The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe sounds so appealing right now. Who would not want to just climb into their closet and step out into an entirely different world. Especially one with talking beavers. I think there were beavers. On that note…..goodnight.

Isolated Before Isolation

In a way, I have always been incredibly isolated. I had two main friends when I was little. I had two (different) main friends in high school. Today, I don’t feel that I have any. No one that I can rely on, laugh with, or relate too. On one hand, I wish I had a friend. While on the other, I’ve come to find comfort in being alone. Silence can be healing but also hell.

My husband is very friendly and likable. I’m thankful for that because he enjoys people’s company. Right now he is outside, next to a BBQ, having a beer with the neighbor. I’m sure he feels content and full right now. That is how I would want it to be. I say that though with knowing that it will never be that way for myself. I’m not comfortable with strangers, social events, or anything that has loud noises. If I don’t know you, I probably don’t eat in front of you. These are just facts that equal why I don’t have friends.

I’ve heard that those with Depression tend to isolate to an extreme extent. Meaning, we pretty much hibernate the entire year inside our house. It is a mystery how anyone with this condition can actually make friends. Or even see people for that matter. I peaked outside the blinds a few times earlier. That was enough socialization for me. It would be nice if there was some kind of like Depression Convention. However, no one would go.

I’m going to try and brainstorm ideas on how to meet people. Even if it is just virtually. Maybe there is some kind of Depression support group or forum in the area. You may be wondering why I would want to surround myself with sad people. It’s because birds of a feather, flock together. We understand each other. And the reality is, those without mental illness, have never stayed with me.

Am I Ok?

What does this question even mean, “Am I Ok?.” It is incredibly general like, “how are you doing?” Society expects people to say the generic: “yes, I’m good thanks!” Or, I’m doing well!” I’m beginning to doubt whether anything is actually real in this world. Including people & their answers. I got asked “Am I Ok?” tonight as a response to a Facebook post I made. It came from a parent who should know my mental state like the back of their hand. But they don’t.

What I want to say is: When exactly is the last time you checked on me? (Other than now). Maybe a few years ago when we passed each other at Starbucks? Do you think that you deserve an honest explanation to that personal question? I’ve seen you maybe 3-4 times in public in the last 12 years. You don’t even know how I like my coffee.

It’s not ok to suddenly become interested in me as a person because I bring up a mental illness topic on social media. If you want to talk, why not start with “what have you been doing with yourself for the last 11 years?” Talk about a broad spectrum of topics that would unearth.

I feel sad because I know if you knew me today it would have meant you stayed in my life. During all the moments my heart broke, you would have listened. When I battled depression you would have loved me through it. You would know that I bring awareness to mental illness and hopefully, you would have been proud of that.

It has been incredibly hard to go it alone all these years. Marriages, divorces, loss, mental illness, body image issues, and the list goes on. Why did you never call and just say “I’m sorry.” Acknowledge & own what happened. This could have reversed our track. Maybe we would not be in two separate worlds.

The reality is though that you didn’t call. There was no apology. And to this day I’m incredibly doubtful that you own anything that happened.

You post on everything I put on Facebook. Usually, shortly after I even post it. How do you not understand that this is violating. It’s like you are forcing yourself into a cracked door. Kindness unlocked that door and peaked out. It did not welcome you in. In so many ways, you are breaking in. Into my life. Into my privacy. And into a role that you walked away from years ago.

So let’s shift off the topic of whether or not I am ok. Instead, I want to tell you that your strategy to comment constantly through social media is not ok. This is not how relationships heal or even begin for that matter. It’s suffocating and stressful. It’s almost 1 AM and I am wide awake feeling triggered as all hell. I need you to stop. The door I cracked is closing. I’m about to reach for the lock.

You put me out, changed the locks, and dragged all my items onto the garage floor. I remember you drove by and watched me while you were on the phone. To this day, over 10 years later, I still remember that night. I know you think that is the night you left me. But sadly, I had left you long before. You actually saved me by shunning me.

The facts are:

I escaped you.

I continue to recover from you.

I go to trauma therapy & take pills to survive you.

I have nightmares about you weekly.

All I want you to do is let me LIVE.

Allow me to be OK.

Stop causing me trauma.

Let me heal.

Then, we can discuss the topic of whether I am ok.

Moving With Anxiety

Something about me is that when I start cleaning (or packing) I have a hard time stopping. There is nothing wrong with being on a roll but I take it to the extreme where I about break my back. I have to force myself to stop moving & panicking. I’m sure it is an anxiety thing. I just went and counted the number of bins & boxes that I stuffed today. There are 4 gray large bins and 12 Priority size boxes. That is way more then I thought I packed.

I did do a Starbucks run this afternoon. I was slightly worried that the baristas were going to spit in my coffee, as I arrived there 5 minutes before they closed. My coffee was accidentally made iced but they were awesome and remade it, while allowing me to keep the other one for free. My husband got a Vanilla Creme Frappachino with an iced coffee on the side. Once I arrived back with the coffee, I grabbed my book:

My Coffee & My Cat :

Snuggs is obsessed with this mustard colored knit blanket.

And headed outside to lay on the lawn chair. I’ve decided that reading outside is not so bad. It’s a way for me to get sun and yet not move at the same time. For Snuggs & I, it works. I’m almost done with my book called “That’s Mental.” After I finish that one, I will move on to the new Scott Peterson one I got the other day. And by “new” I mean Goodwill for $1. True crime is not a topic I read about much anymore but his case continues to fascinate me.

I’m going to end on the latest thing that I have created at night. For some reason, night time is when I make sporadic decisions. Normally, they consist of online purchases. As you can see above, I am the new owner of a stained glass clock from Mercari. Here are two true facts. 1. It was $9. 2. I was not even positive this morning if I in fact bought it. After double checking, I can confirm that I did.

A few nights ago, I decided to start a mental illness Instagram page. I still have my personal one at : https://www.instagram.com/farmnsunflowers . However, I decided that I wanted an additional account to just post mental illness awareness things too. Realistic, funny, and relatable type material for those of us that live isolated (I’m not referring to COVID-19)…. I’m talking about a lifestyle. I will see how it goes. If you are interested in checking out my new page & supporting my cause, click the link here: https://www.instagram.com/shelterfromherstorm . Hopefully it will help people (and myself) on hard days.

I’m off to help haul all the boxes I packed over to the new house. Thankfully, my husband is loading the trailer and driving. So I should be alive tomorrow for an update. (sarcasm)

Nightmares

Last night I had a long nightmare about trying to get away from someone. I first tried to reason with them, then console them, and then escape them. Apparently, the house caught on fire and the person that was chasing me was downstairs, while I hid in the attic. I have no knowledge of how the fire started but I know I was in a desperate state to survive. The person chasing me, ended up living. This is important to note because I am not a killer. Not even in my nightmares. Not even too that which chases me. You don’t have much control (if any) when you are asleep though. And yet, I still take these horrific visions I have personally.

What I do know is that my nightmares are tied to my past. I’m aware of who is chasing me, though I will not write their name. They don’t deserve the satisfaction that they are still somehow victimizing me. They come to me often at night, since they can’t get close during the day. Waking up from these kinds of nights is awful. My hair is a hot tangled mess. I’m exhausted beyond belief. And the morning has not even started. I actually fell back asleep after getting up this morning. Thankfully, I woke up in time to set a short alarm before my counseling appointment.

I’m so tired of running, grief, and lack of understanding. It’s hard to figure out if I isolate myself or if the world isolates itself from me. Nature and sunshine is definitely calming, when I gather the strength to be in it. It rained yesterday though so I think everything is wet out there. So is my soul. My husband is on a business call, laundry needs to be done, dishes are stacking up, things need to get packed…. fuck. I am over it. Change. Rollercoasters. And trying to figure out how to survive them both. I’ve started having chronic headaches which is fun. I’m pretty sure that my brain is trying to explode from stress.

Brain Overload & Goodwill

It is hard to describe how it feels to be me. I can describe the weather, my pets personalities, or my husbands habits. But putting energy into giving myself a definition is not something I know how to do. I can tell you that I feel overloaded. With exhaustion. With stress. With sadness. With confusion. I’ve started having regular headaches daily which has been thrilling. (NOT) When I upped my medications a few weeks ago I started to get them. After a week of trying to push through it, I gave up and went back to my normal dose. Unfortunately, the headaches did not stop. It is 3:30 PM and I want to get in the bed and lay there until tomorrow.

This is fun times considering we are moving starting tomorrow. Thankfully, last week I was able to put items into plastic containers that we got from Target. There are still things to be packed though. I would not be surprised if I just put them all into a basket and have them ride co-pilot with me over to the new house. I’m literally at that point where I don’t know what to do. Hopefully, tonight I will find strength to pack more.

Our Cocker Spaniel, Charlie, is laying on the ground wagging his little nubby tail in his sleep. It’s so dam cute. Why can’t I have dreams like that? Nightmares are all I ever have. Someone is always dying, getting hurt, tortured, I’m being chased, etc. What would a dogs version of a nightmare be? Charlie’s would probably be his inability to reach a tennis ball that he can clearly see. Like the squirrel in Ice Age, always chasing after the nut that gets away. Lucky for Charlie, he clearly found his tennis ball in today’s dream.

The book I’m reading is “That’s Mental.” It is relatable and funny, which I am enjoying. I can only read it in small doses though because it is so relatable. It’s almost as if I am reliving or being taught about mental illness. Even on my best day, that does not sound like my idea of a good time. I do think it is important though to educate myself on topics that apply to my life. Being informed helps me feel less alone. More sane if you will. That in and of itself is worth reading the book.

Goodwill has FINALLY opened back up. If that is not cause for a celebration, I do not know what is. It is refreshing just to be in an environment where I can focus on other things (that are not my emotions). Like being amongst the books. There is something magically unsaid about surrounding yourself with characters & stories. When I used to work in childcare, I learned about “redirecting” children when they are acting out as opposed to punishing. You could say that the thrift store is my redirection.

Sadly, my husband no longer enjoyed thrift shopping. We both used to get into doing it but times have changed. People’s interests change. I of all people should know that. Everyday, I seem to like a new set of things. Thankfully, thrift shopping has been pretty consistent in my life. It’s just hard not having friends to ever go with. On a daily basis, I tend to feel very alone. Most of that is my illness. Some of it is my reality. It’s hard to separate the two.

As far as what we got from the thrift store…. well….. several items. Somehow, the massive world globe for $4.99 had to come home with us. Along with a plant stand, set of galvanized angel wings (thanks to my husband finding them), brass horse, metal beaded flower, books, etc. We also stopped at a second Goodwill in SC and picked up a few more items. Currently, I can’t even remember what we got. Then today, we went back a 2nd time to one of the Goodwills. I spent under $9 on some books. Can you tell that I have a thing for buying books? When I am stressed, I want all the books. Or the true crime & advice ones anyway. My husband went outside to play on his phone while I finished looking at the books. He tries to be very patient with me but I can tell when he wants to go home.

Making a goal list may help me not go lay down. So let’s see, tonight I will pack (at least) 4 boxes. I will feed the pets. I will go get my husbands car with him that is at Firestone. I will work in my business journal some, if I can come up with some new ideas. Or anything for that matter. Ready. Set. Go! (Not) But I will do those things. Because I said I will. And strength is one of the few things I seem to always be able to reach for when in desperation. Or exhaustion. Or whatever the hell this is.

UPDATE: I did pick up my husband’s car with him (we also ran by another Goodwill…), I packed several boxes (more than 4!!), I fed all the pets, and am about to go lay down. I’m going to bring my business notebook in there with me even though I have no idea what to write. Having depression is like having rusty wheels in your brain. They literally don’t want to turn, even though they have a story to tell.

Having Depression Is Suffocating

Having Depression is like being canned in a jar. You can’t move, break out, or even breathe. I feel like a lot of people think of mental illness as being just that, mental. However, it is a physical illness too. My body gets tight, my head hurts, I start sweating, and basically curl into a ball in the dark. I sound like some kind of animal going into a menopausal hibernation. It would be funny, except that it is my reality.

My cat, Snuggs, is able to tell when I am having the darkest of days. Today, he laid his body across mine and slept. He is normally outside. They just know.

Depression makes me feel ashamed of my actions. As it progresses, I become more ashamed of the person I have become. Or lack there of. Something within me tells me I’m defected. Not good enough. Nor ever will be. The only thing I am an expert at is dealing & surviving. That is not the answer people want to hear from me though when they ask what my plans are. To society, surviving is not good enough. The answer is not acceptable. The password is incorrect. An error has occurred.

Whenever I interact with people, I feel as though I am thrown into a judgmental incinerator. This is probably why I have come to fear people, hate questions, and myself. I’ve heard that it is important to love yourself as you are. But people forget to warn you that others will most likely not. In a world most people are craving acceptance and love, I’m an outcast. It is ironic how that is.