I miss my daughter so much. She went to the prom tonight. She is so beautiful. She has no clue how hurt I am and doesn't need to at this point. She cannot fathom the pain. She is so much into her social life and friends, which is quite typical for her age, but she's gone now and there is nothing I can do.
I am out of the looney bin and have been back to work for about three weeks. So far I've lost a total of 72 pounds since last year and work out at the gym almost daily. I've gone from a size 24 in clothes and am now in between a 14 and 16. 16 is a tad large while I can put on 14 but it's a tad tight. Not a bad predicament to be in.
My Hell is the fact that I've experienced empty nest at a rate of zero to 160. It has been a year and 11 days since she moved out. I am doing better yet at times almost fall apart like now. I didn't experience her senior year with her, go shopping for prom dresses with her and won't see her walk across the stage to get her diploma at graduation. She is leaving for England with her dad in a week and won't be attending graduation.
My counselor said I am grieving. It's strange to think that because she's still alive. The other night I saw a picture of her and realized I have a daughter and was shocked. She looked so foreign to me. That is when I discovered how I have been compartmentalizing my feelings in order to just survive. At times I am OK, sometimes I am actually good and other times I fall to pieces and cannot regulate the emotions.
I miss her. I am angry and resentful with her. I feel I miserably failed as a mother. I deeply love her.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
I am so sad
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 11:07 PM 5 comments
Labels: Angry, Cried, Daughter, Depression, Failure, Sick, Weight, Work
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Everything is Falling Apart
So much has happened. I haven't posted here in forever because frankly I felt tired of complaining. I feel that complaining is all I do here and I wanted to end the cycle. Because I was tired of complaining, I didn't know what to write about anymore. There was no urge to write.
The urge to write isn't back. It's just I had to voice something. I am completely devastated. My daughter is now living with her father. She moved out two weeks ago. I still cannot believe it.
Every day is an effort to continue. Every day something happens in a negative way and I have gotten numb to it. I want to stop this cycle of negativity. I want to stop the tragedies. I want to stop the bad news. I want to stop the depression and loneliness. I want to stop the blame and the shame and the anger and the confusion. I want to stop everything. I want to stop my life.
I'm surprised I'm not dead or in a hospital.
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 10:36 PM 9 comments
Labels: Angry, Bankruptcy, Cried, Daughter, Depression, Despair, Disgust, Drama, Failure, Family, Finances, Hospital, Husband, Sexual Abuse, Suicide, Work
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Effin' Hell
Too much going on. I hate my laptop. It's so slow and I rarely get on it anymore. I need to start using it a lot more now because school has started back. I really need a new laptop. This one is quite old, no space left and as slow as frozen molasses. Since I can get on the internet with my cellphone I use it all of the time. All of my blogs are bookmarked on the phone and am keeping up that way, though the keyboard is horribly tiny and there are issues posting comments on other's blogs. I also use Facebook constantly, though I never thought I would. I now understand why it's called "Crackbook".
My new job is going well still. I love working there. I've had a few depressive episodes since the last one blogged about, but was able to go in and haven't missed any work since then. I am very thankful for this. I'm going to Georgia in two weeks for work and will be gone for three days. In May I'll be in Pennsylvania for work for four days. I can't wait. With the way things are going at the house, it will be nice to have a break.
I can't even blog about it much right now because there has been so much madness going on at home I feel as if I'm in a psycho ward from Hell. To make a very long story short, we recently found out that my 16 year old daughter snuck out at 2:00am a few weekends back to meet a boy while she was staying at her Dad's house. She went beyond kissing, though I don't think she had sex, but then again with all of the lies she has recently been caught in, I'm not so sure.
I am freaking out about it. This behavior is not normal for my daughter at all. My husband is absolutely freaking out about it. Let's not forget that he is from Morocco and with the way he grew up in his culture, and with the way his father was to live with, this incident has actually stirred up some childhood demons for my husband that he has never gotten over. This past Friday night I was driving him to two psychiatric hospitals and both couldn't take him because they didn't have time to evaluate him. We ended up driving back home and it's been Hell ever since. He has cried, screamed, raged, slept, and everything in between. He never cries, yet he's cried three times since Friday. He has said that he wants to kill himself, cut himself, leave, divorce, get the hell out of here, etc, etc.
My daughter is walking around with an attitude most of the time, yet other times she's sweet. I don't know who she is anymore. I do know that she is not just boy crazy, but obsessed and I don't know what I've done wrong as a parent for this and the other things we found out to happen.
I'll blog more about this later if I can. I need to write it out to perserve for memory's sake, but right now it's just too upsetting and is a problem too much in the forefront of my life that frankly, I'm tired of thinking about.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Drug Testing, Background Checks and Bankruptcy
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 1:29 PM 11 comments
Labels: Bankruptcy, Failure, Frustrated, Work
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Hope is a Thing With Feathers...
Though this post didn't start that way, it ended not so well, so I would like to warn anyone in a bad place not to read this because it could be triggering.
Back home again. My husband took me to get my nails done. They look great. Afterward, he took me to dinner at our favorite Mediterranean restaurant in town. A lovely Lebanese couple owns the restaurant who we just adore. They light up the room with their sweet, enlightening energy and it felt great to see them. Dinner was lovely as always.
It was nice to spend time with my husband like that. My daughter is at her Dad's this weekend which is a good thing because I don't like for her to see me not doing well. A few days ago she asked why I haven't been to work and I explained that I have had a lot of physical pain with my period and sometimes the depression can get really bad because my hormones are all up in the air. I wish that was all it was, but I don't tell her much. I never talk about my depression unless it gets so bad and so obvious and she needs answers. Otherwise I don't burden her with it, which I think is for the best.
It was nice to get out and live a little. I have to say that I am exhausted. At one point I got so tired during dinner I just wanted to sleep, but I reprimanded myself and tried to practice mindfulness. That can be quite difficult. A lot of times I am not mindful enough to be mindful. I wish I could visit an ashram in India and live with monks for awhile to learn with them.
My husband really wanted me to enjoy myself tonight. He can be so funny and he said a lot of things that we just laughed about. He is known to be not very affectionate and he was very sweet and affectionate tonight. It was really nice.
I called my supervisor this afternoon while waiting for my husband to finish teaching his art class. She does know that I have depression. She is the first person I've ever worked with that I told. In the past I would tell companies that I was physically ill with something because I realize most people just don't understand. I was quite afraid of losing my job because I've missed so much time this week. Not only that I haven't been at work much since the new year even though I was working from home. Perception is reality and a lot of people other than my supervisor and her boss don't realize I've been working from home so to them I'm sure it looks like I'm never there and they wonder what the hell is my problem.
She did say that people were talking about me not being there and questioning why. She doesn't tell them my problems with depression and since I have missed so much time she said it put her in a tough spot. She said that I do great work when I am there and I'm the best on her team and she does understand that I have issues, but at the same time she is afraid that it looks like she is favoring me because when she is out of town she has me do her work along with my own and lead the team. Team members get jealous and make comments when I'm not there. You would think we were in elementary school. Don't get me wrong, I do understand that they don't understand, but still, I wouldn't think the way they do if it were someone else.
The fact of the matter is that this week I didn't get my work done, I was working on a highly visible task in the project and she said it became quite political when I wasn't there and she felt in the middle of it all and didn't like being put in a bad spot. I felt terrible. I told her that her feelings are completely valid. She said that she continues to hope that I will get better but I can tell that she is running out of patience. She didn't say it, but I could hear it. I am running out of patience with myself.
She is the first person I've worked with that I really became good friends with. We go out to lunch quite a bit together and it has become obvious that people on the team don't like it because they think she favors me more. In reality she doesn't. When we go out to lunch we don't talk about work, but about our life, family, etc. We go to lunch to escape from work. She is a lovely person and a good friend. She has run interference for me in the past when I had depressive episodes. She just got promoted to a management position a few weeks ago and is worried that if she continues to run interference for me when I'm not there that it will make her look bad and they will wonder why they made her a manager.
I feel bad to have put her in this position. I told her that I will be at work Monday. It is a holiday Monday but I'm going anyway because of being so far behind. I told her that I'm going to work my butt and maybe we shouldn't lunch together until she feels ready. I could hear her relief. It makes me sad. I told her that I wasn't going to ask her out to lunch, but for her to just let me know when she wants to go. I don't want her to feel that people are talking about her behind her back and that is exactly how she feels.
Just to let everyone know, my job is not protected. I am a contractor and they can let me go at any time for any reason, even if it's no reason at all. I am not a full-time employee and do not hold the same rights as one. I am in the technology field and we are working on a project which has its first release date in a few months. It is highly imperative that the web application is released on time. I see a lot of hours coming up because the project as a whole (not just my work) is so far behind schedule. Some people have likened this last push to the release date as a "death march". If this company doesn't feel that I am producing what I need to produce they will get rid of me. They don't need any dead weight. I do not live in the technology hub of the world and it will be difficult to find another job. That is one reason why I am interviewing for a full-time position at another company Tuesday. I really want to have a full-time job in order to have better benefits and it will feel more permanent and not as precarious as my current contracting position.
I will feel embarrassed to go back to work Monday. I will feel more embarrassed Tuesday when everyone will be back from the holiday. I really wish that I could stay at home and fully focus on getting better. I wish I could afford a psychiatrist and therapist and yoga classes, walks on the beach and naps. I wish I could spend my days reading self-help books, being in groups with others, volunteering my time with the homeless, children with leukemia, nursing homes and animal shelters. I wish I could be that mother who has freshly baked chocolate chip cookies ready for my daughter when she gets off the bus from school. I wish I could be that wife who has a lovely house and wonderful meal ready for my husband and daughter. I wish my brain would get better and this depression would go away and if this isn't possible, I wish I could go away from myself.
You have no idea how many times I thought of ending it all. I have the perfect plan. I will go to work on a weekend and go into the bathroom. In a plastic bag will be letters to my loved ones. I want them to be in a plastic bag so that they don't get wet or messed up. I will take a bottle of water, wear my heavy coat that feels like a blanket, go to the bathroom and down a bottle of Ambien. Doing this will ensure that my family won't find me in this way. The floor in the bathroom is tile and that will ensure I won't mess the floor up for any reason because it can just be mopped. I thought of doing this in the woods but I'm afraid that the letters will be lost. I could mail the letters but what if the post office lost them? So, the bathroom at work is the best, I think. I do feel really bad when thinking about whoever it will be that finds me. I don't know how to get away from that.
Do you see how my mind works? I can go from what a nice time I had at dinner with my husband to eating a bottle of Ambien in the bathroom at work. It becomes tiring to think this way.....and old. Very old.
OK...let me practice mindfulness...
Breathe in...
Breathe out...
Inhale slowly...
Exhale gently...
I will get through this.
Yes, Catherine....I will get through this.
Thank you everyone for your kind thoughts and support. It means a lot to me. I hope not to let you down through this journey. I hope to make you proud. I hope to make myself proud that I got through it. I hope to get through it. I hope to really live and not just exist. I hope, and hope and hope. At least that isn't dead yet.
As the great poet Emily Dickinson said and it is my favorite quote:
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul.
And sings the tune
Without the words,
and never stops at all.
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 1:03 AM 22 comments
Labels: Daughter, Depression, Failure, Husband, Living in the NOW, Mindfulness, Sadness, Self-talk, Sleeping, Suicide, Tired, Work
Friday, January 16, 2009
Prozac and Sunshine
I haven't been to work all week and no work has been done from home. I've been in the bed and not able to get out. I've slept the sleep of the dead. Unfortunately, I am still alive.
Today I went to the doctor. I had an appointment at 11:30am and missed it due to being asleep. I woke up at noon realizing it was missed, called the doctor's office and thankfully they took me in at 4:15pm. I actually made it on time.
Once again I face my doctor looking like complete shit while telling him I can't take this anymore. I am tired of this unending cycle plaguing my life. I cry off and on like an idiot. Told him how up to this point there have been issues sleeping. I either don't sleep at all or sleep too much. Told him of going through a cycle where I could hardly sleep for a few weeks and now I can't get out of bed. My depression is in full-force right now and I can't see past it. I may lose my job. I listened to a message on my voice mail from my supervisor where you can hear in her voice that she has basically lost patience with me. She warned that it was looking bad to others that I haven't been into work and that people are talking. When I finally do get better and IF I still have a job, it will be difficult to go and face these people.
My doctor said that I need sunshine. Sunshine will help the vitamin D in my body and regulate my sleeping.
He took a bunch of blood to test later and also added Prozac to my daily RX. I'm already taking Wellbutrin and he wants me to continue taking that along with Prozac.
Let's just throw medication to the problem.
The doctor has lost patience, I think. He said that if the Prozac doesn't work he thinks I need to see a psychiatrist who is more specialized. I explained how my insurance is severely lacking in the mental health arena and that I could see him every day and only pay a copay while I could never afford a psychiatrist.
My last post should have been a red flag to me. I should have realized then that I was about to hit the downward spiral. I haven't felt well since the last post. Thank you everyone for your kind comments. I just can't talk very well in times like this and that is why I haven't posted a response to your comments. Two of my friends from high school wanted to meet for dinner together this weekend. I ended up calling one of them after they texted a message saying, "Have you fallen off the face of the earth?" because I never called her back. I ended up crying on the phone with her. It's so embarrassing.
One bright spot today is that the nurse at the doc's office told me about a good therapist. I called after the doctor's appointment out of desperation and she charges only $60 an hour. I am shocked. The lowest I had found so far is $110 for 45 minutes! I will visit her this upcoming Thursday after work...That is if I still have a job left.
I have an interview this upcoming Tuesday. If things don't change fast I'm not going to do very well.
Maybe I should sit in the sunshine.
Sheesh.
Since I did just have my period my doc did give a prescription for a birth control pill that you take for three months straight and only have your period once a quarter. That should help because I always crash with my period. Sometimes worse than others and this is a pretty bad one.
I realize I am doing better today though because at least I was able to get my fat ass in the car and drive to the doctor and I'm also blogging about it. During the worst of it I can't even blog.
When I think about losing my job I literally cannot breathe. I am the breadwinner and if I lose my job I'll be up shit-creek. That will be one more thing and I can't handle even thinking about it. I still haven't contacted the company that served papers, either, by the way.
This is one upside-down post. I apologize.
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 7:31 PM 24 comments
Labels: Anxiety, Bankruptcy, Cried, Depression, Despair, Disgust, Failure, Frustrated, Sadness, Sleeping, Suicide, Tired
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Honesty Scrap Award
Brent over at Musings: Night/Life in Hell-A gave me the "Honesty Scrap" award. I don't know where all of these awards are coming from, but I'm not complaining. Thanks a bunch, Brent!
I now need to write 10 honest things about myself and then pass the award on to others. Since I always am honest on this blog I am going to think about 10 things that I would not normally say on this blog. Just because I am honest on this blog doesn't mean I put everything out there. I won't put everything out there now, but I'll try to put a few things out there. I'll start with simple things first.
- I went skydiving a few years ago when my husband and I were dating. It was incredible to throw yourself out of a plane at 13,000 feet. It is an experience I won't ever forget. (OK that was an easy one!)
- I was served papers the other day. Nope, haven't blogged about it due to being too upset. I have never been served papers before. A policewoman showed up on my doorstep with legal papers from a credit card company that I owe money to. I have always been able to pay my bills until being in a psychiatric hospital for my depression. After being in the hospital I also lost my job and it took awhile to find another one. That was two years ago and I am still financially reeling from it all. I need to claim bankruptcy per various financial advisors and even a bankruptcy attorney. I haven't done it yet because I am a contractor at my job at a place that may let me go if I file bankruptcy. I am worried as well that it will be difficult to find another job that would hire me with bankruptcy on my credit history. If anyone has advice I would appreciate it. I have a few days to contact the company. I still have not because I really don't want to face it all though I really must call them next week.
- My first memory of life was being sexually abused. I was two years old and my babysitters son who was an older teenager had me going down on him. There have been times in my life where I wonder if I would be a different person today if that had never happened. I grew up thinking that this was normal. I will never forget when I realized that this was not normal. I felt so ashamed.
- I haven't been doing well this past week. Though I have been able to work from home, I haven't been at work very much. Thankfully, they haven't commented at work about it because I have been getting quite a lot of things done, but still...I need to be at work.
- I've gained more weight. I want to lose it. I feel horrible. ugh.
- I stopped smoking over a year and a half ago but do have a cigarette during stressful times. I haven't had a cigarette in a few months. When I do have them it's like one every few months but I did have one today. My husband was driving me crazy the entire weekend and I've cried more than usual and today I broke down and had one. It didn't fix my problem.
- I feel that I lack discipline the older I get. I blame that on my mental and physical health. I am tired of being disciplined and feel damn immature saying that. Dying would be so much easier. Really.
- I received an entire year of free membership to the local gym from a friend of mine and has my fat ass even walked in the door other than signing up? Not at all.
- I have been having horrible bouts of insomnia lately to where I have stayed up all night for nights on end. It's even gotten to the point that I can't keep up with what day it is.
- I am not proud of myself. I am a fat ass with zilch self-confidence and I feel I'm not doing anything to help myself. I am constantly running around like a chicken with my head cut off to help others and do for everyone but myself and I am damn tired of it. I feel bad when doing something for myself. I need to get over it.
In lieau of sending the award to others, I would like to invite anyone to do the same and post the award on their blog if they would like.
Thank you once again, Brent, for thinking of me. It's not your fault that I'm feeling so negative right now. It's just sometimes being so very truthful dredging up things I don't normally even talk about hurts.
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 11:29 PM 14 comments
Labels: Advice, Award, Bankruptcy, Depression, Failure, Finances, Frustrated, Husband, MeMe, Memories, Sexual Abuse
Sunday, December 7, 2008
The Claws are Ever Tighter and I Cannot Get Rid of Them
It's back. Depression has its desperate claws edged on the tip of my soul. I can feel its dripping maw near my neck and it makes it difficult to breathe. It encircles me and gags me and I try to accept that it's there and acceptance is futile. During my good times I think I have accepted the fact that I have depression. When it comes to remind me that I have it, the overwhelming feeling of "Again?" rushes my senses and I am quieted.
I have felt it all week. I tried to pretend that it wasn't there. I tried to do things. Instead I have slept. A lot. I am always embarrassed to admit this. Horribly embarrassed.
I missed work. Quite a bit of it.
Today I was finally able to get myself out of the house and met a friend from high school. We recently reunited. It was wonderful to see her. Though it was very nice to spend time with her, I grew tired. I literally yawned. Several times. She even noticed and commented. I yawned even though I've slept most of the week. When I wasn't asleep I tried to pretend that I was fine. I was merely having some type of strange, extended vacation that I never requested beforehand. Though I slept all day, every day this past week, when my daughter got home from school I would wake up and act like I had been working from home all day. I was in my pajamas. I hadn't brushed my teeth yet. My hair was disheveled. I don't know if she believed me. Monday and Tuesday she asked why I was home. I lied and told her that I worked from home. For the rest of the week she didn't ask anymore. She's a smart girl. I'm sure that she realizes.
My work thinks that I had strep and stomach problems. I hate lying like that.
In this economy and also considering that I am a contractor, I am worried about losing my job. They already have a hiring freeze on software developers. They are flying contractors from India by the plane load and paying them nothing while giving them apartments where they shack up four and five to a two-bedroom apartment. They have no car and walk back and forth to work and the grocery store. They have no life. They are happy to be here. They are hard workers. They get paid next to nothing. I can easily be replaced. The company would save money. I don't know why they haven't done it already. It does disgust me though because these highly intelligent people from India are trying to find their American Dream and are being paid next to nothing. They need to be paid like everyone else, if not more because they work so very hard.
I have not worked hard this past week. I slept hard. When I was awake and acting like I was working from home I was reading other people's blogs until my eyes closed. I tried to blog and act like everything was OK. It hasn't been. Why do I act like everything is OK on my blog when this is the place where I can say exactly how I feel and not worry about it? I have thought about that and think it's because if I talk about my bad moments in those bad moments I have to accept that I have major and chronic depression. I can't run away from that fact and I certainly can't hide because depression always finds me.
I seriously cannot imagine being like this for the rest of my life. Typing that sentence makes me cry. How do people live like this? Will it ever get better? I have had depression my entire life, yet I have to say it gets worse with age. Not better. Worse. Worse and more worse. It is overwhelming to think about.
It is times like this that I truly want to die. Would I call that being suicidal? Not really because I'm not acting on it. Is it life that I want to end? Yes, if life is like this. I also realize on a rational level that I will get better again, it doesn't rain all day every day and I will not want to end my life when the sun peeks out to shine on my day. Like all people who think about suicide, I just want to end the pain and despair. It becomes all too much at times.
If I wasn't for my daughter I know that I wouldn't be here. I would be dead. She keeps me going when I cannot. She doesn't realize this and she should never realize this, but it's just the truth.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Have You Ever Seen a Fat Anorexic?
Here is the post that I've been dreading to write for a while. Why have I been dreading to write it? Because it's about a subject that a lot of people don't want to face much less proclaim to the world. I'll make a very long story short. I'm fat. There you go.
What's strange to me is not the fact that I'm fat. What's odd is that I used to be anorexic/bulimic years ago. Have you ever heard of a fat anorexic? Well, now you have because here I am.
Let's go back in time a bit. My mother grew up in a household where weight was discussed like the weather. Her adopted mother who we called "Aunt Jessie" always had sweet stuff laying around the house and would have the audacity to tell Momma that she was fat when she was a little girl. Don't get me wrong...Aunt Jessie was a very good woman and really took care of Momma and me, for that matter. She just had a hang-up about weight and would tell the world what she weighed when no one could care less. I remember one time going to an ice cream shop with her and her telling the morbidly obese guy behind the counter that he "must eat a lot of ice cream around here to look like that". She said that right to his face. I could have died it was so embarrassing and I felt so bad for the guy. She could be vicious about weight, that's for sure.
Momma told me a story about when she was little Aunt Jessie used to make clothes for her and one day made striped pants. The stripes were vertical except for the stripes across the butt in the back. They were horizontal and really made my Mom embarrassed because she felt it made her behind look larger that it actually was. I remember one time Aunt Jessie telling me that my butt was a shelf because it was so big you could set a pie on it.
Did I tell you that Aunt Jessie weighed 113 pounds? She would spin in her grave if I didn't mention that. Also note that she was about 5 foot 4 inches tall. So, she was pretty petite anyway whereas Momma is about 5 foot 10 inches and even if she starved herself could never be called "petite".
When I was a little girl I remember all of the diets Momma went on. The cabbage soup diet, grapefruit diet, Fiber Trim, blah, blah, blah. I wanted to emulate her and so I would go on all of the diets with her. I remember when she was very active physically and would work out all of the time and took so many diet pills and supplements her hand could hardly hold all of the pills she swallowed in the morning. I remember being seven years old and crunching ice cubes all day for days because I didn't want to gain weight. I ate ice cubes and nothing else until I got so hungry I ate the house down.
As a teenager eating the house down wasn't very good because I really noticed my weight then. Eating the house down also made me feel guilty that I had eaten so much and so I started purging the food I ate. I don't remember doing it for the first time. I don't remember how I even had the idea to do it. I just know that it was something that I did for years. I would go through periods of starvation only to follow it up with binging and purging. I was never happy while doing it because I thought I looked like an obese monster when looking into the mirror. I was always on the quest to lose that "last five pounds". It was never ending.
While eating dinner with my parents, I would take some of my food and hide it in my napkin and throw it away when they weren't looking. They never had a clue until that fated day Momma walked in the bathroom while I was about to step into the bathtub. She said that she saw my back and was horrified when seeing all of the bones sticking out. She said she knew then that I had a problem.
The next day after eating dinner, I excused myself to the bathroom as I always did to purge and Momma stopped me asking where I was going. I told her that I needed to use the bathroom and she went off asking what I planned to do in there. Of course I lied saying that I just needed to go to the bathroom and she asked if I was going to throw up. I told her of course not while starting to cry and then the drama really started that night. There was a lot of screaming and crying and the last words to me was that she was taking me to a counselor. I told her that there was no way that I would go and stomped out of the room. I was 16 at the time.
A few Saturdays later Momma asked if I wanted to go shopping and I said, "Sure". Before I knew it we were downtown in front of a brick office building. It was a psychologist's office and I was completely pissed off. I told her that I wouldn't talk at all and we walked inside. At the end of the hour I was talking.
I went for a year.
Thinking back to that time in my life, I still can't believe that the sexual abuse Momma had just found out about when I was 16 was never mentioned to the counselor. She always told the psychologist that I had issues with my biological father not having anything to do with me and that I was angry because of it. She never talked about her issues with weight either.
Starvation, binging and purging was a great way for me to feel in control of my life because believe me, I felt I had no control over anything and never did. Sexual abuse started when I was two years old and continued throughout the years and by different people. Sure, I was very upset about my biological father not wanting anything to do with me. I still have issues with rejection as an adult. I just wish that the psychologist would have talked with me about everything. I wish Momma had told him everything. Maybe I would be better off now.
Here are a few pictures of when I was in high school in the tenth grade. Please note the terrible short haircut. That is an entire story to itself. Well, I'll go ahead and tell it. When I was little (under five years old), I would always go to bed with bubble gum in my mouth. A lot of mornings my hair would be in knots with sticky gum that my Mom went nuts over. She would use butter, oil, etc to try and get the gum out. At night she would check my mouth for gum and I would hide it in my mouth saying I didn't have any. The next morning more gum was in my hair. Momma got really angry and said that if I go to bed with gum in my mouth one more time she was going to cut my hair and I would never be allowed to have long hair as long as I lived in her house. The next morning I woke up with gum in my hair and she chopped it off. Momma always had very short hair (above her ears) and she made me have short hair until I moved out. I was never allowed to grow it again while living with her.
At least she was consistent, I guess, but it really burns me up still just thinking about it. Needless to say my hair is longer as an adult.
Anyway, here are some pics.


This was taken on "Career Day". My friends and I decided that we would have a construction company and dressed the part. I am the short-haired with a sharp as hell chin jutting out (always hated my chin) sitting on the end.
This picture was taken after high school and after I had "graduated" from the psychologist. My hair was finally starting to grow out (I had moved out from my parents) but I still had braces. My friend Elaine had done my hair and makeup that night. We were so proud...it makes me giggle to see that picture. I had dinner with her the other night. It was wonderful to see her again after so long.
I'm sure that you all have seen the following pictures.They are my favorite ones:
OK, this is what I looked like more recently. It is so embarrassing to show all of these photos:
This is me and my husband.
I look like a tub of lard sitting on that couch in my husband's studio. I am sitting beside my very sweet mother-in-law and friends of my husband who visited from Amsterdam.
Since these pictures I've gained about ten more pounds. I am now at a whopping 230 pounds (standing at 5 foot 8 inches). Last year I had gotten all the way to 250 which is the most I've ever weighed in my life. I lost 40 pounds while stopping smoking, but over time I've gained a little back.
So, how does an anorexic/bulimic become fat? It happens over time and it happens when you don't look at yourself. What I mean about not looking at yourself is that I literally don't look at myself. When needing to wear makeup, I focus only on what makeup I'm putting on. If it's eye makeup, I look at my eye, not my entire face and so on.
I learned to stop starving/binging/purging with my psychologist years ago, but I never learned how to effectively lose weight without obsessing about it. I've always been afraid that if I really start trying to lose weight I'll become obsessed and start purging again. I don't want to start that cycle ever.
Last year when losing 40 pounds I completely changed the way I ate and it worked. What I need to do now is start exercising. That is one thing I don't do and have a job where I sit the entire day (and sometimes evening) behind a computer not moving. I've done that for years and it really doesn't help.
If you haven't noticed, I've made two goals for myself and posted it on my blog. One goal is easy...lose 10 pounds. The other goal is the overall goal of losing 70 pounds. Hopefully it will help. We shall see.
If you've actually read all of this, thank you for listening. I'm glad I didn't create another blog for weight loss because really....this problem is part of who I am and is something that bothers me A LOT.
I feel so very ugly and seeing myself in the pictures today really makes me feel out of control. I was shocked by the last pictures because guess what? I have never really looked at them.
I feel really bad right now even talking about it. I'm going to take a break from all this writing.
Take care, everyone.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Could I Possibly Have Borderline Personality Disorder?
In my last post, Untreatable left a comment stating that what I was describing could also be BPD, or Borderline Personality Disorder. I was shocked when I read his comment. I never thought about BPD. Never. So, I went to Wikipedia and read the following about BPD. I was once again shocked at how much resonated with me when reading the Wikipedia article.
Below I will copy and paste parts of the article with my comments.
"Disturbances suffered by those with borderline personality disorder are wide-ranging. The general profile of the disorder typically includes a pervasive instability in mood, extreme "black and white" thinking, or "splitting", chaotic and unstable interpersonal relationships, self-image, identity, and behavior, as well as a disturbance in the individual's sense of self."
Wow! This really got to me. My moods go up and down and the cycle never goes away. AND I have been known to have black and white thinking since I was a child. As I get older things have become more gray, but yes I have had this. My sense of self is pretty poor. I don't have much self-esteem AT ALL. I don't have much self-worth either. My self-image is nonexistent. My identity feels lost at times. This is one of the reasons why I started this blog...to find myself and discover who I am. I have felt lost for a long time.
In extreme cases, this disturbance in the sense of self can lead to periods of dissociation. These disturbances have a pervasive negative impact on many or all of the psychosocial facets of life. This includes the ability to maintain relationships in work, home, and social settings.
I have been able to maintain relationships in all aspects of my life and I have not experienced dissociation that much in my life other than certain times which I will discuss more in depth soon.
The most consistent finding in the search for causation in the disorder is a history of childhood trauma, although some researchers have suggested a genetic predisposition.
Yes, I have experienced trauma as probably most everyone has at some point in their life. Most of the trauma occurred during childhood. Regarding genetic predispositions, bipolar, depression and who knows what else is all over my family tree on both sides. Depression runs through our veins like water. Many family members on both sides were/are alcoholics and/or drug addicts which in my opinion shows that they had/have some type of mental thing going on which they tried/try to medicate with drugs and alcohol.
A DSM diagnosis of BPD requires any five out of nine listed criteria to be present for a significant period of time. There are thus 256 different combinations of symptoms that could result in a diagnosis, of which 136 have been found in practice in one study. The criteria are:
1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment. [Not including suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in Criterion 5]
I would not say that I have had "frantic" efforts, but I always felt abandoned by my biological father. He left when I was two years old. My parents got divorced. I rarely saw him. It was a mixture of pleasure and pain when I saw him because he is bipolar and his moods were quite erratic. He was physically violent, beat my mother when they were married and I also remember him hitting me in the head which knocked me back into a couch. My head swelled and when he realized what he did he then put ice packs on my forehead and cried for three hours apologizing for what he had done. He told me then that he was beaten by his father as a child and was even whipped with chains. He just kept saying, "I'm so sorry....I love you" over and over again. It was surreal. I was 10 years old.
I also remember that same summer when he beat up his third wife (he has been married five times so far) and I heard her screaming in the apartment. In a rage he then ran after me and my step-brother around the apartment, cornered us in the bedroom we shared and and tore the room apart. He threw everything on us including the mattress and bed frames.
When I became older I found out that Jim had raped three underage girls in his late teenage years and early 20's. The last time I know that he raped a girl was when he was married to my Mom and he picked up a hitchhiker and took her back to the house while Momma was working and chained her to the bed. He then raped her and kicked her out of the house. She was an African-American underage girl who had a very poor family. No charges were filed.
The other two times he raped a girl, my grandfather had to sell things in order to have money to pay the families off so they wouldn't go to the police. Imagine receiving money when your daughter was raped and being OK with that. I just cannot.
I found out that after he raped his cousin (he was 18 while she was 6), his father took him behind the barn and whipped him with chains. The person who told me this never knew that Jim told me he was whipped with chains when I was 10 years old. This person told me when I was in my 20's and the two stories matched. I finally understood why he was whipped with chains. Afterwards the family acted like nothing happened and the cousin had to continue going to their house every weekend.
Jim was a womanizer and cheated with every person he had a relationship wit and was into drugs and alcohol big-time. While in the Coast Guard after I was born, a drug raid occurred in the apartment where we lived. A "friend" of his who was an undercover policeman did the raid and Jim was sent to jail. My Mom and I went to live with her adopted parents.
Wow, I'm talking a lot about Jim, but even writing about this spurs on more memories and I feel the need to get them out. Maybe it will be good for me. I really don't know. I will talk about all of these things because at this point I will try anything to get better.
I was terrified of Jim. He had a HUGE temper and you never knew when it would go off. When he was a teenager he would become so angry so fast that he would start hyperventilating. They would have to put a bag over his head so that he wouldn't pass out.
Jim was also VERY charming and could make you feel like you were the only person left in the world. He could make you feel so very loved and special and bam, you are on the floor after he exploded for a minimal reason.
My grandfather (on my Mom's side) used to say that he couldn't believe a thing that came out of Jim's mouth. He said that if Jim told him the sun was shining that he would have to walk outside to see for himself because he was such a liar.
I am used to being rejected and because of that, recently I am going through a stage with my daughter where I am scared she will not have anything to do with me when she gets older. She is 15 now and I've been having a difficult time with it even to the point of crying while my imagination runs wild with thoughts of her possibly rejecting me later in life.
2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.
Not really sure about this one. I have had intense relationships, but I don't have a pattern of them. When I see the word "idealization", I feel it fits because I have always been very idealistic.
3. Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.
Yes, all the time.
4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., promiscuous sex, eating disorders, binge eating, substance abuse, reckless driving). [Again, not including suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in Criterion 5]
I was HIGHLY impulsive as a child, but have gotten much better over time. I was bulimic/anorexic in my teen years and had to go to a psychologist a little over a year to get help. It's ironic because I would look at myself in the mirror back then and see a HUGE, fat blob. I never realized how thin I became. At my worst stage I had gotten to the point where I could hardly eat without throwing up. I would binge eat as well as starve myself. I remember eating an entire box of cereal at a time, going to the bathroom to throw it up and then eating another box of cereal and repeating the cycle.
The only substance abuse I have had is cigarettes. I smoked for 19 years. I started when I was 17. What I never talked about in this blog is that about nine months ago I quit smoking cold turkey. It was very difficult. I'm drinking a cup of hot tea while writing this and yes, I would love a cigarette still.
Hmmm...reckless driving...well, every day I drive to work at around 80 mph while the speed limit is 60. Is that considered reckless or normal? I am hyper-aware while doing it and am watching all of the time. Also, most of the time I don't wear a seatbelt. After being hit by a train at 17 while in my car and my seatbelt broke I just felt like they weren't all they are cracked up to be. Is that reckless or normal to not wear a seatbelt?
Promiscuous sex...Yes, I had a lot of that in my 20's. I think the reason for that though is because of things that have happened over time. I'll get into that later.
5. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, threats, or self-mutilating behavior such as cutting, interfering with the healing of scars, or picking at oneself.
Though I have never been a cutter, I think about suicide quite a bit. I have since I was a child.
6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days).
Yes, that has happened throughout my life.
7. Chronic feelings of emptiness, worthlessness.
YES, all of the time. I have felt worthlessness and have felt empty since childhood.
8. Inappropriate anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights).
Never. This is more of a "Jim thing".
9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms
No, never. I have never been paranoid, and the only time I have had dissociative episodes is during specific times which I will get into later.
Studies suggest that individuals with BPD tend to experience frequent, strong and long-lasting states of aversive tension, often triggered by perceived rejection, being alone, or perceived failure.
Unfortunately, yes.
Individuals with BPD can be very sensitive to the way others treat them, reacting strongly to perceived criticism or hurtfulness.
Yes, I have always been sensitive to this, but it has never been debilitating or really caused stress on relationships with others. However, lately I've noticed that I am much more sensitive to things and quickly feel like someone is criticizing me when they probably aren't like I think they are. Actually, recently feeling this way prompted me to really start researching what the heck is going on because I do not want to be like this forever. I feel like I'm changing in a bad way and I have to stop it now.
They tend to view the world generally as dangerous and malevolent, and themselves as powerless, vulnerable, unacceptable and unsure in self-identity.
I have never viewed the world as being dangerous or malevolent. In fact, I am a very trusting person and as others have said, quite naive (I'm tired of being called naive, actually). I always give others the benefit of the doubt and feel that the world and all the people in it are essentially good and if they are not, then something is wrong with them that they cannot help.
I have felt unsure in my identity and I have felt vulnerable at times as well.
Individuals with BPD are often described, including by some mental health professionals (and in the DSM-IV), as deliberately manipulative or difficult, but analyses and findings generally trace behaviors to inner pain and turmoil, powerlessness and defensive reactions, or limited coping and communication skills.
No, I'm not manipulative or difficult. In fact, I'm too easy and what I mean by that is rather than being difficult, I cater to the other persons needs and not my own. I do not like conflict. I do not have limited coping and communication skills. I can be very blunt and say what is on my mind at times.
Numerous studies have shown a strong correlation between childhood abuse and development of BPD. Many individuals with BPD report having had a history of abuse, neglect, or separation as young children. Patients with BPD have been found to be significantly more likely to report having been verbally, emotionally, physically, and sexually abused by caretakers of either gender. They were also much more likely to report having caretakers (of both genders) deny the validity of their thoughts and feelings. They were also reported to have failed to provide needed protection, and neglected their child's physical care. Parents (of both sexes) were typically reported to have withdrawn from the child emotionally, and to have treated the child inconsistently. Additionally, women with BPD who reported a previous history of neglect by a female caretaker and abuse by a male caretaker were consequently at significantly higher risk for being sexually abused by a noncaretaker (not a parent).
Yes, yes and yes. I was sexually abused from the ages of two to eighteen years old. The last time I was raped was when I was 27. Childhood abusers were all babysitters. Male and female, African-American and Caucasian.
Do you have that first memory of life? My earliest memory was when I was two years old. The only reason why I know that I was two years old is because I asked my Mom how old I was when this certain person babysat me. I remember being on the bed with him (I was still wearing diapers) and him kissing me and guiding my head down to his penis to give him a blowjob.
I remember being in school when they gave a class about how it was wrong for people to touch you in inappropriate places. I remember realizing for the first time that this didn't happen to everyone. I had never questioned it prior to that class because it was normal to me. It had happened all of the time. I remember feeling horrible shame and guilt after this class. I never told a soul.
Another time I remember another babysitter who was the worst out of the bunch and who messed with me for years take me to the kitchen of his house (which later became MY house...long story that I'll post about later) and tied me to a kitchen chair after I told him that I was going to tell my Momma what he did to me. He then got a gun, put it to my head, cocked it (I will never forget that sound or feeling) and told me in no uncertain terms that if I told my Mom, that he would kill her in front of me so that I could watch and then kill me. I completely believed him and never said a word. My Momma was all I had. I was six years old then. Momma never found out until I was 16.
During times of abuse I did a very good job of disassociating myself from the event. In fact, I perfected the art of disassociation.
Wow, I'm tired. I can't look at the Wikipedia article anymore. No more comparing tonight. I've written enough and will read it later and possibly continue another time.
Even though this post is public, it is not meant to garner sympathy. I talked about these things because reading the Wikipedia article really made me think about a lot of things and really made me remember too much. These things happened a long time ago and I have done a very good job all of my life to keep them buried in holes in my mind that I created as a child.
Uncovering them and dusting them off is difficult work. Maybe it will help me.
Other than my husband, Mom, and maybe three others that have been close to me during my life know these things about me.
Remember, no sympathy. I have none for myself and you don't need to, either.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
It's Time To Be Real
For anyone in the depressed community, the following post may be a trigger for you. Please don't read it if you are triggered easily. For people who aren't in the depressed community, first off, congratulations! and secondly, if you didn't know already, people who are depressed can easily be "triggered" to become more down after reading certain things, so I wanted to insert the warning here.
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I can't believe this...this is an anonymous blog meaning you don't know my last name, don't know where I live, don't know me at all and yet I haven't really talked about what's on my mind. Why? Because I'm worried about what people will think. I created this blog so that I could say what is on my mind "without fear" and here I am with fear. What's the point of the blog then? I think that I forget why I created it in the first place. I created it for myself so that I could really face what I'm thinking, feeling, and doing in life by writing about it and seeing it in black and white. It's also a record so that I can go back and try to track my moods and figure out what the hell is going on with me.
So, it's now time to be real. I have to be. Though I am fearful, I'm going to do it. I have to.
I'm not doing well. I haven't been doing well. What I can never tell anyone (except for one lady that I know from the hospital I was in two years ago) is what I did this past Thursday night. You see, other than last Monday, I haven't been to work. Tuesday I took the day off work to work on my school work. With two midterms coming up next week, all day Tuesday I worked like a dog studying statistics, doing work for my other class and completing homework that is due next week for both classes. I knew that if I didn't do this that I would never make it. I accomplished a lot, which is good.
Tuesday night I started feeling down. Though this may be TMI (too much information), I became VERY crampy and knew that I was going to start my period soon. I was in a lot of pain and my mood spiraled downwards. Wednesday I stayed at home. I had a bad headache, painful cramps, no period, but knew that it would start soon. I was in the bed the entire day. Thursday my period started and the pain was terrible. As I get older my periods have become worse and I have been getting the worst cramps with pain shooting down into my legs all the way to my kneecaps like lightning flashes. My back aches like crazy, I get awful headaches and I'm pretty much laid up during this time of the month. It has become almost debilitating. Not to mention my emotions and mood during this time. I become very depressed and at times feel psycho. I cry a lot and can't stop. It's lovely.
Anyway, this time around I was in more pain than I have ever been and was just so down. I could not stop crying. I fretted about missing work, missing being paid, bills, etc. I contacted work every day that I was out, but of course I can't tell them exactly what is going on, so I have to make up stuff. I hate lying. I wish that I could just say, "I'm having one of the worst periods in my life, I'm in so much pain, I'm horribly depressed and there is no way I can come in like this". But, I can't.
I did call my contract company (because I'm a contractor) and was able to tell the president of the company. She and I have been friends for the last five years and she knew me back before the depression became so debilitating, which I'm glad because she knows that I can be a very good worker. I worked for her five years ago. She used to tell me that I was the best contractor she ever had. I'm sure she said that to be nice, but I always work hard and she knows that. She also has a daughter with depression and has had uncles with depression who lived in their pajamas six months out of a year, so she understands. I was able to call her and let her know that I was on a downward spiral.
She was very supportive. I e-mailed work to let the project manager know that I would be back in the office this Monday. He immediately replied asking that I call him. I freaked out because I knew that I wouldn't be able to call him without crying. I didn't want him to hear this. Finally, I did call on Thursday and he was less than nice. In a nutshell, he told me that if I continue to miss work that I will be fired. I understand this. It is a business. They need me to work, which is why they hired me. It's just...he was quite personal, quite nasty and he didn't need to be mean. Anyway, it is what it is and I profusely apologized. As soon as the call ended I cried like a baby.
I felt like such a loser. I can't even get into work? What the hell is wrong with me? I'm going to lose my job and what kills me is that I don't feel that I can even depend on myself. I feel so inconsistent. It's funny because for a while I felt better. In fact, it's been at least two months and I felt such progress. Then, BAM!!!! I am back to square one and can't believe I'm there. It's like a slap in the face. It's funny because sometimes I actually think that the depression is gone and that I've beaten it and right when I start thinking that it rears it ugly head laughing and I'm back in bed.
All day Thursday I felt very off. I was full of physical pain and my mood became more dark. In front of my daughter I tried to act like it was just my period, but it was much more than that. A couple of times she caught me crying and asked what was wrong. She asked if it was my depression. Finally I said, "Yes". She then saw me crying like a baby and I was so ashamed for her to see me like that. I told her that I hated her seeing me like that and not to worry. She's never seen me that bad off. I really don't know what she thinks about it. I felt like such a loser.
I did tell my husband Thursday morning that I could feel the depression eating me alive. I told him that it was back in full force and sat in his studio and cried. For the first time he was very supportive.
What happened next is sort of a blur. It was late at night and I couldn't sleep. My husband and daughter were in bed. I have been having a lot of problems sleeping lately. It's been almost like insomnia for the past two weeks and twice I never even went to sleep the entire night and went to work the next day. Also I've been working 12 to 13 hours a day and on weekends and it's like I was completely wired with that and school and couldn't sleep. So, Thursday night since I couldn't sleep I decided to take an Ambien (Ambien is a sleeping pill. It was a 10mg tablet.). One has always done the trick, but Thursday night it didn't. I rarely watch TV, but I couldn't stand being in the bed tossing and turning so I took the bottle of Ambien and went to the living room. I got a glass of orange juice and swallowed one tablet while watching TV. I remember a TV show discussing Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton's latest debate.
I remember just sitting there waiting to get that feeling of sleep. It didn't happen. So, I took another Ambien. I've never taken two in one night before. After taking the second one I waited about 30 minutes and then the rest is a blur. I just remember thinking that I was a loser, that my daughter saw me as a loser, that I could lose my job because of this depression shit (please excuse my language) and that just when I think that it's gone it comes back. I was in a lot of pain still and thinking about how sick I was of being in pain every time I have my period. I remember taking another Ambien.
I then wondered what it would be like if I took four. I remember thinking that dying in your sleep is a good way to go. I have always opted for that and have often silently dreamed of taking a bunch of sleeping pills and never waking up. I took another one. I don't know how much time went by but I felt really woozy. The bottle of Ambien was in my hand and it felt so comfortable there. I didn't want to let it go. I decided that this was it, that I was tired and as passe as this sounds, I actually got up and stumbled across the living room and got vodka out of the cabinet and drank that as I took another Ambien. I don't remember going to bed.
First of all, let me tell you something...I don't drink very much. I've never liked beer much and really only like sweet drinks like appletini's, Bahama Momma's, etc. I like some wine. The point is that I don't drink a lot, in fact a month can go by and I don't drink a thing. I don't like the feeling of being drunk. I remember drinking the vodka and thinking that if the Ambien didn't do me in that mixing the vodka with it would.
I don't remember any of the next part. My husband told me that the next morning I was snoring very loudly. I am not a snorer, but have been known to snore when taking Ambien (just one Ambien). I don't know why. Anyway, I was snoring really loud he said and he nudged me to stop. I didn't. He then tried to wake me up. He said that I wouldn't wake up. He then got out of bed and was doing everything to wake me up. I still don't know how he knew, but he said that he asked when I roused a little how many Ambien I took. I told him five. He asked me why would I do that and he said that I said, "I'm tired of the pain in my body and in my heart". He said I then tried to get out of bed and stumbled across the room. My daughter walked in because she was getting ready for school and came to give me a kiss and I walked right by her like she wasn't there. She thankfully just thought that I was very tired. I have been known to be so sleepy when waking up that I'm kind of out of it. Somehow I went back to bed, but I don't remember anything at all.
My husband woke me up again later. In his hand was a piece of paper with his writing all over it. He had gotten on the Internet and researched Ambien. My daughter was at school by this time. She still doesn't know. He asked a lot of questions. Thankfully, he wasn't angry. He was very concerned and upset, and he was very supportive. (Our marriage has improved a hundred-fold in the last month or so, by the way and I am very thankful for that.)
Even thinking about it all is such a blur, except for one thing. I wanted to die. I very clearly remember that. It's strange because last night my husband and I were talking. He was talking about something which I don't remember...and I looked at him and thought to myself how I could have died. I realized that I could be dead and you know what? I had no emotion about it.
You see, in the past I have thought of suicide. Afterwards I was always so thankful that I never did anything and even my emotions would reflect my thankfulness. This is the first time that I have absolutely no emotion and this is the furthest I've gone. Yes, I could have taken the entire bottle. I don't know why I didn't. Ambien can really make your mind quite blurry. I think in a way I was testing it. I really don't know.
I talked with the lady that I was in the hospital with today over the phone. She is close to 80 years old and is bipolar. She is such a wonderful lady. I love her. Her name is Jayne. I called and told her what happened. Her first response was, "and then you woke up" and I said, "Yes, unfortunately I did". She understands me. She didn't judge.
I admire her. I have depression. She has bipolar depression. She has been through SO much in her life and survived. Last night when my husband was talking I thought to myself, "How can I go through this for the next 30 or 40 years? How can anyone?" Jayne has. I really don't know how.
Since Friday morning I've been a bit nauseous, dizzy, light-headed and tired. My heart keeps racing and then calming down...racing and calming down. I researched tonight and I think it's the aftereffects.
I'm glad that my husband didn't call the ambulance or make me go to a doctor. For one they would have taken me straight to a psychiatric ward. I can't afford that in more ways than one.
I don't have time to be sick. I can't afford to be sick. But, I'm sick. I want to get better. Who wants to be like this? Will I ever get better?
I have thought a lot today and realized the following:
- I definitely think that this episode is connected to my hormones.
- I haven't slept very much for the past two weeks, which is very bad for me. I get down when I don't sleep enough.
- I've worked A LOT of hours these past two weeks and then school, and other responsibilities on top of it.
- Because of the hours spent at work I haven't made my lunch like I normally do. Because of this I haven't been in the habit of taking my meds at lunch, so I've been off meds for two weeks. Yes, I am stupid.
- I need to take better care of myself.
- I need to really discipline myself.
- I am really tired of all of this.
- I wish that I could take a year off work and just work on myself, but that is out of the question.
- I feel overwhelmed even to brush my teeth at the moment.
- I am a loser.
- I am very sad.
- I am still in so much pain. Even taking pain medication doesn't work. Right now pain is radiating down my leg while typing.
- I can't imagine going through this even one more year.
- I am SOOO DAMN TIRED OF IT ALL!!!!
For right now I am going to post here when I can and will visit other's blogs when I can. It's funny because (and I realize you are going to wonder why I would even think or say this), but I feel bad if I can't get to everyone's blogs every day and read and post a comment. Isn't that crazy? I don't want people to feel like I'm not thinking of them. This is a blog, and a "virtual" world, but to the people whose blogs I visit, I do care about each and every one of you...and I don't even know you. So, that is why I need to say that I am going to visit your blog when I get a chance and please don't take it personally. I'm sure ya'll don't understand.
I am such a loser. I hope to get through this.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
I Guess That's IT!
I'm out...
I tried...
I REALLY DID!
I wasn't able to post yesterday. I was at work until 1:00am. I did homework until 4:00am. Then I worked all day today until midnight and tomorrow I go back to work again to work another 12 hours.
I dedicated myself to Blog365.
I guess I'm out now.
*sigh*...It's only January and I've already failed!
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 11:59 PM 6 comments
Thursday, October 18, 2007
"I Don't Know What Your Problem Is"...Neither Do I
I'm at work today. Thank God is all I can say. I don't want to lose more days at work. I've missed too much as it is.
This morning it was HIGHLY difficult to get out of bed and come in. It took all of my willpower to do it. I felt so bad...so down...so YUCK. My husband kept telling me to get up. I finally did.
Before he left this morning he was picking on me and I was not very nice while saying "stop it". He looked at me and said "I don't know what your problem is". I just looked at him. I said "I don't feel well. Isn't it OK that I don't feel well sometimes?" He didn't say anything. I then said, "Don't you know me well enough by now to know what's wrong?" He said "No" and walked away.
He left the house.
I felt worse.
That is a bone of contention in this marriage. I don't understand why it's OK for him to not feel well, to rant and rave around the house when he is frustrated, angry, and mad; however, if I don't feel well, it seems to be not acceptable. It's like "What's wrong with you? Snap out of it!"
It makes him feel angry.
Why?
Sometimes I just wish he would come to me and give me a hug and say "I'm sorry that you don't feel well. I love you". Is that so difficult? Obviously it is.
The funny thing is that I feel worse because of the way he acts about it. I feel guiltier about having depression. I feel more abnormal. I feel that there is something I can and should do to "snap out of it", but I don't know what it is.
Sometimes I even feel that really I'm not depressed, I'm just lazy. I feel that it's all my fault and that really nothing is wrong with me. I feel like a terrible person.
I'm at work right now trying to work. It is very difficult. I'm very glad to be here. Anything is better than sleeping in the bed completely tired out because I'm so depressed. Anything is better than to see the look in my husband's face seeing me down like that.
My depression is what got us into the financial mess we are in. I am the breadwinner. I have paid the bills for the last five years while my husband tried to make his business work. Unfortunately for him it didn't work. We were still OK financially. But, I got sick...I was out of work...I was in the hospital for six weeks...No money meant I couldn't pay the bills, and on it went.
I've worked so hard my entire life for what? To feel this way and watch my life fall into shambles around me? I don't want this, who would want this?
The worst thing is that even when I feel sick I can't afford to be out of work. I have no right to be sick. That is what makes me angry is that I have no right to be sick neither financially or with my husband. He just gets so angry.
His anger compounds the problem and when I think I can drop no further, more space opens underneath me and the faster I fall. I still haven't figured out what happened to feel this way. I have wracked my brain and I just don't know.
It's funny because I was thinking last night that if you are diagnosed with a physical ailment such as diabetes, cancer, etc, and you have a day where you don't feel well, you can say "I don't feel well because I have diabetes, or I have cancer, etc". But it doesn't seem acceptable to say "I don't feel well because I have depression". If I experience a day where I mentally don't feel well I have to find some reason, some trigger. I think it could be possible that there isn't a trigger every time. I think it's possible that you can have a day when you aren't doing well.
I wish my husband would love me no matter what. I wish he would show his love to me in my darkest moments. I wish he accepted me. I wish he felt empathy towards me.
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My husband just called me at work. He asked what is wrong and he listened. He really didn't know what to say. He listened to me and I appreciate that. It's embarrassing to tell him that I'm depressed because I know that he doesn't understand. I feel worthless when I tell him.
He said today that me talking about feeling depressed is like speaking another language that he doesn't know. He said it's like him speaking Arabic to me...I don't understand him. When I talk with him about depression, he doesn't understand me.
I understand that he doesn't understand. I get it. I don't expect him to understand. Sure, I wish that he understood, but he doesn't and that is OK. I only wish that he didn't react the way he does to it. I don't think he can change that.
He said it may be better if he lived in an apartment and we saw each other on the weekends. Maybe that would be better. I really don't know. All I do know is that it makes me sad to hear him say it. I know that he loves me or he wouldn't care enough to even call me at work to talk about it.
I just feel very lost and don't know what to do.
All I do know right now is that I must get work done. If I am at least successful in that, possibly that will help me to feel better.
I really don't know, but as always I will try.
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 11:50 AM 1 comments
Labels: Depression, Despair, Drama, Failure, Fighting, Husband
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Doing Something is Better than Doing Nothing
I didn't go to work today. Thank God it wasn't depression that kept me in bed. I am soooo grateful for that. I didn't go because I am damn tired. I think I've been doing too much. The last two days I've been dragging. Today I called into work and then went back to sleep...until 3:00pm!
It's 7:22pm and I'm tired still. I'm not going to stay up too late. To make up my hours, the following is my plan:
- Tomorrow: Work from 7:00am - 7:00pm (12 hours)
- Friday: Same (12 hours)
- Saturday: Work eight hours
I'm just going to be tired by Saturday, I can tell.
Sunday I'll need to do homework, wash clothes, clean house, etc.
It never ends.
About the attorney: I met the attorney yesterday and he spent a full hour with me. After reviewing my financial situation and pounding out numbers on his calculator, he said that I would most likely qualify for a Chapter 13 bankruptcy, which means that I will pay a portion of what I owe over a five-year period. That portion is determined by a government software program where he will enter all of my financial data and answer a lot of questions (he said it takes approximately three hours) and the magical number of what I need to pay each month will be displayed.
I wonder what that magical number will be.
Sitting there was a bit surreal because I never expected to ever even consider bankruptcy. In a way I wanted to cry because I thought of the way things have progressed that led me to sitting in that chair (I didn't cry, thankfully), but also it made me feel good that I'm doing something about this hell of a financial situation and though it's bleak and though it sucks and though it makes me feel humiliated, I'm doing something. It's better than doing nothing and having the calls and letters from creditors continue to stress me out. It also stressed me out because I felt embarrassed by all the calls and didn't want to deal with them. I felt even more that I was a failure.
Well, this failure has decided to go ahead with proceedings. It's really the only way out. It will be off my credit report in 10 years. OMG, I will be 45 by then.
In a way I was hoping that I would qualify for a Chapter 7 bankruptcy which means you are basically "graced" from your debt and don't pay back a dime. But then again I wanted the 13 because I did want to pay something towards it. I wouldn't feel as much of a failure if I did pay something.
The irony of it all is that I have to come up with $1445 before I can start the proceedings. I am completely bankrupt, really, and don't even have $384 to get a crown for my tooth that I desperately need (it's starting to hurt and become very sensitive), and I certainly don't have $1445 to pay the lawyer. It looks like I will have to wait until tax season in February and give him the money when I receive a tax refund.
So, I'll have to endure the calls and letters from creditors and hope that none of them place a lien on my house or something between now and then.
*sigh*
At least something will be done, though. I'm hanging onto that thought.
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 7:17 PM 2 comments
Labels: Bankruptcy, Failure, Finances, Gratitude, Tired
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Monologues and Extreme Fatigue
I worked late tonight to make overtime pay and I plan to do that again tomorrow and Friday night and Saturday. I hope that I can get through it.
When I got home late my husband and I discussed our finances, which are in the serious shitter right now and of course he was not able to discuss it, he yelled and screamed and talked on end to where it felt like I was listening to a monologue. I did not get a word in edge-wise. When I did talk, I was interrupted and basically came away with the feeling that it really doesn't matter what I say.
I did try to create boundaries (which they taught in the hospital) and explained after listening to an hour and a half of screaming (which a lot of what he said was the same as what he screamed in my ear at work yesterday), that I couldn't listen to it anymore. I said it very nicely and my voice was never raised the entire discussion. I am just dead tired. And depressed. And it's just too much to go through our reality as it is without him adding to the destruction by the drama and yelling.
When I told him that I was going to go downstairs because my ears hurt, I was tired, worked late and wanted to go straight to bed, he said "Oh well...and I have to go to work tonight! I wish that I could go to bed." He then said, "Well, you married a Moroccan and Moroccans are not stone-cold people that patiently listen when something is wrong. We move our hands and our feet and we yell and that's the way it is. I'm not changing because this is the way I was raised. You should have known that when you married me."
I proceeded to remind him of my parents and how meek and quiet they are (compared to my husband, "meek" works) and how I grew up with them. I remember being younger and my biological father yelling at his fourth or fifth wife (cannot keep up) and I started crying because I wasn't used to all of the yelling and it upset me a lot. I can't stand the yelling now. Nothing has really changed where somehow I built this very thick hide that is impenetrable. If anyone knows how to do this, please let me know! I told him that he should have known how I am when he married me as well.
He said that I had to get used to him acting out like that and I told him that he had to get used to me. He said that he could never get used to me and not react. I then reminded him that if we are in stressful circumstances like that, the worst thing to do is yell and scream because it makes the energy go down to hell somewhere, nothing gets accomplished and people walk away from it heavy in their heart and soul. It’s just not effective.
So...I walked downstairs, took a shower, made my lunch for tomorrow and kissed my child good night. I am now blogging and then I'm going to bed because today has been very full and I've had enough. And when I wake up, it will feel like 20 minutes passed and I'll be dead tired and have to get ready for work again.
I've cried three times at work today. This isn't good. Yesterday I cried as well.
Today I found out that if I didn't make at least one payment on my car that it would be repossessed. That has NEVER happened to me. I was able to make one payment, but had to find a Western Union (never been there) to make a payment so that it's not taken away. I need my car to get to work and make money.
I called the bankruptcy attorney today to no avail. He was not there to make an appointment, but his secretary said he should be in the office tomorrow and to call then. I will call again because I really need to talk with him and explore my options pronto.
Not only was I running to Western Union for the car, I also had to talk with my car insurance agent. I have to make a payment by this Friday or my insurance will be cancelled. I've known the agent for years and he is a very nice guy. He also is my family's agent. I told him that my husband gets paid this Friday and if it would be possible if I wrote a check to go in Friday. He said that he needed it by 5:00pm tomorrow. His office is about a 30-minute drive from where I work and then he asked where I worked. When he found out, he said..."I live about five minutes from there. Let me give you directions and you can drop it off there so you don't have to drive all the way here." I thanked him profusely and went by his house as well and hid the check under a planter. I am very grateful to him because he didn't have to do that!
I have never in my 35 years of living had to run around like that paying money for past due bills! What stress and feelings of failure! And then when my husband sits there and gives an entire monologue on how this affects him and he yells and screams and jumps around and basically tells me that he will leave if we don't sell this house...it's just all extremely amazing. Especially when we started off the conversation very mildly in the first place. I had worked today on a budget from here until November and we discussed it. I asked that we review it every week. He agreed and I thought things were going exceptionally well. Until the monologue. And I love how he tells me hurtful things and then ends it with "I didn't want to tell you that". I said..."well don't!".
He is at work now. I am about to go to bed. I hope that I can sleep. If I don’t stop writing about this, I’ll never stop. I feel like I’m going round and round with the same thoughts in my head. I have to stop writing about this.
I want to end with two things:
The first thing is gratitude – I feel grateful that I was able to pay the car insurance today so that it didn’t cancel and the car so that it wasn’t repossessed. I feel grateful to my daughter who I could tell wanted to chit-chat tonight, but I couldn’t give her all the time she needed because I got home from work late and then had to discuss finances with my husband. I gave her a big hug and apologized saying that it was a not-so-good night for me and if we could talk about what she wanted to talk about tomorrow. I reassured her that none of it had to do with her, that I was going through my own problems and am trying to fix them and everything would be fine. She smiled at me and gave me a hug and kiss and said "OK Mom...no problem. We can talk about it tomorrow." I love her a lot.
And last, but not least, I want to say that I have had good intentions my entire life, but I am a failure. My intentions weren't good enough and in the end didn’t really matter when I look at the mess we are in today.
I failed. As Dr. Phil says, “It is what it is”.
And knowing this just tears me up inside.
Posted by Chunks of Reality at 11:32 PM 3 comments
Labels: Bankruptcy, Boundaries, Cried, Daughter, Depression, Despair, Drama, Failure, Finances, Frustrated, Gratitude, Husband, Repossession, Selling the House









