Showing posts with label Suicide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suicide. Show all posts

Monday, March 7, 2011

Back in the Cuckoo's Nest

I'm back in the hospital on an outpatient basis. I've been there for two weeks and three weeks prior to that was in bed either asleep or when awake planning how I would die. I go Mondays to Fridays from 8:30am to 3:00pm and am finally starting to climb back out of the hole. I meet with a psychiatrist three times a week, have group sessions every day, meet with a nutritionist once a week, have had a lot of blood work done and meet with an individual counselor once to twice a week. Group sessions consist of a lot of classes to teach you skills on how to regulate emotions, be more educated about your diagnosis and how to process your life effectively.

In the past I've been to counselors once a week for an hour at a time. Doing what I'm doing now is like having eight therapy sessions in one day, so it's been some major power counseling. It was either that or end the pain and I decided that this would be my last thing to try and if it didn't work that was it.

I stopped taking meds about three months ago. I am now back on them again and am afraid that I will be on meds for life. My psychiatrist has been trying different combinations to help things out and finally I'm starting to see that the sun does shine sometimes.

I've had to take FMLA (medical leave of absence) from work and yes I'm stressing financially, but hasn't that been the cycle and I'm ready to break it. I was hospitalized five years ago at the same cuckoo's nest and I think I'm getting more out of it this time. I don't know if it's my age (I'll be 40 this year) or the program is better or I'm more receptive to it all or what, but I've been taking A LOT of notes, have received and scribbled on A LOT of handouts and I think when I get out of the hospital I'm going to start blogging again what I learned in the hospital to keep it fresh in my head.

I also want to change my blog a bit and will be thinking about this as well in the near future once I'm out for good.

I'm not sure if I previously stated that I finally graduated in December with my Bachelor's degree in Computer Information Systems. I did maintain the 4.0 GPA though I know it really doesn't matter because it's not like anyone will ever ask that question. It's just something I worked hard for and here is a place that I can talk about it.

I started the MBA program but have had to put it on hiatus at the moment but plan to start again as soon as I am discharged and am back at work.

Thank you all for the support and reading my crap. :) You mean more than you know.

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.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Sing Me to Sleep

I'm tired and I want to go to bed....
Don't try to wake me in the morning cause I will be gone.
Don't feel bad for me.....
I want you to know...
Deep in the cell of my heart I really want to go.

This song from the Smiths keeps echoing through my brain.

I just want to go to bed and never wake up.

I realize this is the depression digging deeper roots. It really doesn't want to let me go. At least someone (thing?) likes me, I guess.

I am at work. Haven't missed any time. I am trying to manage. Don't want to repeat this vicious cycle.

I am a hamster in the wheel of depression....and a fat one at that.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

At an Impasse

I bought another pack of cigarettes even though I threw away the other pack I had last week. I've had a few of them and am sick of smoking them. I hate the smell of them, hate the way I smell after smoking them and while smoking them wonder what the hell I'm doing. I just had a cigarette at lunch and am back at my desk wanting to throw the pack away. Why do I keep doing this? I guess it boils down to cravings and felt I had to have a cigarette and bought a pack. I just realized while typing this. I lack discipline. This is why it's good to blog. You sometimes realize things about yourself while seeing it typed out or visitors to your blog realize it for you.

I wasn't hungry today at all and got lunch anyway. I had a salad because I thought I would probably get hungry by the afternoon and then would be stuck. I should have not eaten a darn thing. Now I am so full I feel sick and once again realize that I lack discipline.

I am getting bigger and bigger and bigger. My clothes are restricting while I refuse to buy larger ones. I look like a whale shark. I feel like a stuffed pig. Just give me an apple to stick in my mouth and call it a day. It will suit my physique just perfectly.

Two days ago I mowed the front and back yard. My muscles are still complaining from it. This morning I could hardly get out of bed and walk because my muscles were screaming with pain. That is how out of shape I am....I can't even cut the grass.

My knees hurt while walking and I get out of breath. I am getting hot all of the time because of the stores of fat all over my body. I feel like I breathe heavily while sitting because my lungs don't have enough room to expand with all the fat cells squashing them down. Even my eyelids are fat.

While typing this I got a granola bar out and am munching it. I'm full! I don't need it! But yet I do. The more I talk about my weight the more I want to eat. I just want to eat until I'm so full I pop and this shit is finally over.

It's funny really because I normally don't eat a lot at all. I'm not one of those comfort food eaters. I don't eat candies, chips or cookies. I don't eat granola bars. It's just lately I am so focused on my weight that I feel like an alien to myself and for some reason want to eat. It reminds me of my days of bulimia. When I was a teenager I would eat loads of food and vomit it up so that I could eat more. I would eat 10 bowls of cereal, throw up and eat 10 more, throw up, eat 10 more, etc. until all of the cereal in the house would be gone. I was skinny then. The only difference now is that I'm not making myself throw up. I want to, but I don't let myself get into the cycle because it was so difficult to stop before. Yet, I am sorta in that cycle, really.

I am going to weigh myself. It's been a while. There are scales in the building. Be right back....

I am back, huffing, puffing and wheezing because I actually walked. Went to the scales and found that I'm 253.2 pounds, which is 114.9 kilos or 18.09 stone for the Brits out there. The scales are located beside the vending machines and I stopped and purchased some peanut M&M's and a peanut butter Moon Pie. I never eat that shit, but today I will. Why not? I thought I was 260, and I'm actually seven pounds less than that, so by all means I need to eat! Even though I feel like I could vomit, I'm going to pack this shit in anyway.

Wow, while typing I'm getting really angry. Curious. I usually don't get angry. I am the depressed, emo type who just cries. Not now...I could smack the shit out of something at the moment.

You know, at least it's food I guess. If I was a drug user, I think tonight you would find me a lot like DJ AM who just died with 8 OxyContin not even all the way dissolved in his stomach, the ninth one still in his mouth, not even swallowed, laying on a bag of weed with a crack pipe beside him. At least he was skinny. Maybe I need to switch to drugs. What would my drug of choice be? I hate feeling out of control of my body, so which one would it be...hmmmm....

This peanut butter Moon Pie tastes like shit, but I'm going to eat it anyway. I should wash it down with a Mountain Dew or milkshake if I had one.

OK, just finished the Moon Pie and on to the M&M's! I'm not a big chocolate eater. I like dark chocolate, but don't eat a lot of it. M&M's I only eat them if going to the movies.

What the fuck am I doing?

Now the wimp is coming back and I want to cry. I'm no longer angry. I am lost. I don't know who I am. I am barely chewing the M&M's...just swallowing them to get it over with. I want to go to bed. I don't want to go to bed. I want to die. I don't want to die. I want to be a thousand pounds and not be able to get out of my house without a forklift breaking down a wall and getting me. I want to be skinny.

I want and want and want and want while increasingly becoming more empty inside. Nothing can fill this emotional chasm.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Alone at the Beach

Still at the beach. I love Hilton Head Island, SC. It is very beautiful, not too touristy and the beach is so natural. High-rise buildings and tall signs/billboards are not allowed. All store signs must be low to the ground and in earth colors. We are staying in a condo on the beach and the dunes are gorgeous. So far we have seen deer, rabbits and other critters in between our condo and the beach living in the dunes and the beach itself is covered in sand dollars, small blue crabs scuttling around and starfish. Porpoises were frolicking in the surf as well as my favorite pelicans scooping the water hoping for a good catch. The weather has been truly amazing.

My best friend left to go back home with her family. It was a tight fit with everyone. Basically it was ten people in a place set up for six. There were so many children sleeping in the living room/kitchen area that you couldn't make coffee or even get to the sink in the morning until everyone woke up. My best friend got out of the psychiatric hospital this past Friday and seeing her here at the beach was wonderful. She is doing better now than she has in a long time. She commented last night while we floated in the pool that she feels more relaxed than she has in years. I'm very happy for her....and relieved. I'm worried that when she gets home she will become overwhelmed with reality and I won't be there to help her. I told her husband to remind her that there has been great progress and to take it one step at a time.

My husband is at home. Every day he says that he will drive out here, but has not. Every day there has been some type of phone drama with him and frankly I am tired. Last night I cried a lot and this afternoon I cried again because I couldn't get in touch with him and I was scared he ended it all. He's been talking about it for days, if not weeks, and when I called the neighbor who said that the car was there and he wouldn't answer the door, I just knew it was the end. I was frantic with worry and he finally called. His phone was in the bedroom vibrating while he was in the living room not hearing it. I just broke down in tears and told him that he frightened me. He promised to call if he was going to do it, though this doesn't set my mind at ease. I, of all people, know that a decision like that can be impulsively made and I don't put much stock into thinking he would pick up the phone first.

Since my friends left I was on the beach alone. My daughter is here with my nephew from France, his friend from France along with my best friends daughter who is my daughters friend. They bounced between the pool, beach and condo during the day while I hung out under an umbrella on the sand. My mind continually went through everything on my mind and it was difficult to think about much else. I looked around and noticed that not many people were by themselves at the beach. It felt quite lonely to see other families spending time together while my husband sits at home. I wonder if I am married sometimes.

I feel quite down tonight. I am in bed by myself while my husband is miles and miles away. This isn't how it is supposed to be.

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.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

It Never Ends

Here I am again writing about depression. Its vicious grip is back with its scaly hands bound around my throat. It's hanging on for dear life while I'm hanging on for dear death.

I went to get lunch today and stared around the restaurant curious how many people there wanted to die at that moment. Am I the only one thinking about death? Am I the only one wanting to be gone?

Suicide is on my brain once again. When will it end?

Tuesday night a guy I graduated high school with was killed in an automobile accident. Why do I wish it were me?

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Suicidal Ideation

I have 40 Ambien in the drawer beside my bed. It's there for no reason. I don't take many Ambien lately anyway unless I am having problems sleeping. So it just sits there unless I need it. I never think about it unless it's time to fill the prescription again before it runs out, so lately the amount of Ambien increases every month.

Until this morning.

Why would I think about that bottle this morning?

I was laying in bed feeling bad from the cold crud stuff I have and hating the fact that I had to get up and get ready to go to work. I just needed one more day to recuperate. I laid in bed and was so sad thinking about how I had to work. I wished that I could stay in bed and take care of myself. Then my mind went further and started thinking about how tired I am of getting up each morning to attend this event called life. I am tired of it all.

Am I depressed thinking this?

Not at all. I don't feel depressed.

I'm just tired.

So, I thought out just downing the bottle. Then I remembered that I needed to write letters to my daughter and husband. Maybe my parents as well.

I had pretty much decided to do it and then realized that my daughter would be the one to find me, so instead I got up out of bed, got ready and went to work.

I am now back home and am tired. Physically I feel more sick with cold grunge I've had and my head feels like it's going to pop off.

Isn't it strange to have these thoughts when I'm not going through a depressive episode? What the hell is my problem?

I can't imagine another 40 years of this shit.

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.

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.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Some Things Never Change

Warning. If you are in a bad place, don't read this now. It may not help you a bit and if anything may make you feel worse. I don't want to trigger anyone.

I made it into work today. I didn't get there until around 11:00am, but at least I was there. When finally able to get myself out of the bed my internal dialogue went something like the following:

  • I don't want to go to work.
  • I can't face people today.
  • I can't interact.
  • I won't be able to focus.
  • What the hell am I doing?
  • Who am I kidding?
  • I am a loser.
  • Thank God the world doesn't depend on me to get things done or we would be extinct.
  • What an arrogant thing to think!
  • The economy is in shambles and I can't get out of bed? I could lose my job for gawd's sake and here I am not able to go because of what? BECAUSE I AM A LOSER!
  • Do I really have depression or am I just a loser who is lazy as hell?
  • I am a loser and am lazy as hell.
  • I want to die.
  • I want to just end this shit.
  • I have no will to live any more or will to do ANYTHING!
  • Wait...I have no will? What happened to it? What happened to my determination?
  • What happened to me?
  • I just want to die and end this.
I had these thoughts as I brushed my teeth, washed my face, put on my clothes, etc. The talk never stopped and the voice in my head never took a breath. It was incessant and made me even more miserable.

I got into my car, drove to work and trudged inside. Did I get a lick of work done? Absolutely not. I was a sitting corpse with a rotting soul only wanting to be cremated, turned to ashes and disappear in the breeze.

I couldn't focus though I tried. It became very frustrating because focus was next to nothing and I felt even more of a loser.

I did realize a few things today while rotting in my chair:
  • I have no support system. I really cannot count on my husband or parents to be there emotionally for me in times like this. If anything, because my husband has treated me so poorly in the past while I've had a bad downward spiral into depression I never want to tell him the depths of my despair. I make excuses to make living with him during the dark time not as difficult. I can't talk with my Mom because she goes silent. She doesn't know what to say and both my husband and Mom become very worried to the point that it is of no benefit to me at all. In fact, it is a hindrance. Seriously, all I wish for during that time is acceptance and love. I wish someone would just hug me. They don't have to understand me, but acceptance would be most beneficial. The only support system I can say I have is my dog, HoneyBunny. She lays by me the entire time and never wavers in her love. She never leaves.
  • I really have lost my determination in life. I have no clue where it went or how to get it back.
  • I am seriously sick right now and need to check in with a doctor. I can't afford it with my crap medical insurance (mostly crap when it concerns mental health) and the cheapest counselor I've found is $110 an hour! Just going once a week would be $440 and going even once a month wouldn't be enough to help emotionally in the beginning at least.
  • I really don't know if I can deal with this for the rest of my life. I've said this before, but I realized the depth of this even more today.
  • I really do want to die because I just want to end the pain. If it weren't for my daughter, I would have been dead long ago. My mind has thoughts like, "Well, it would hurt her at first, but she will get better with time", "I can write her a letter and though she won't understand as much now, she will as an adult". It is called rationalization. I realize this. Once again, I wish I could see a counselor.
  • I have tried so hard to be a good mom and am so worried that my daughter will remember her teen years as the time she realized her Mom has depression. I am worried that she will end up in a counselor's office one day as an adult talking about me and how I ruined her life. I then realize that it will most definitely happen if I do myself in.
I am crying now. I don't know what to do. I am so behind in my schoolwork, my Christmas tree isn't up yet, and for goodness sake, I just need a break from all thinking and feeling.

I just want to sleep.

The following song came out in 1987 when I was 16 years old. The Smiths sang it and the song name is "Asleep". At times like these I still listen to it. Some things never change...just like this damn depression.




Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
I'm tired and I
I want to go to bed

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
And then leave me alone
Don't try to wake me in the morning
'Cause I will be gone
Don't feel bad for me
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart
I will feel so glad to go

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
I don't want to wake up
On my own anymore

Sing to me
Sing to me
I don't want to wake up
On my own anymore

Don't feel bad for me
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart
I really want to go

There is another world
There is a better world
Well, there must be
Well, there must be
Well, there must be
Well, there must be
Well ...

Bye bye
Bye bye
Bye ...

Sunday, December 7, 2008

The Claws are Ever Tighter and I Cannot Get Rid of Them

-Image by Mahesh Haridevan

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, November 17, 2008

Old Poems

I found quite a few old poems that I wrote years ago. I posted my poems on an old website I created way before blogging ever started. It's interesting to me how though years pass, thoughts and feelings can remain. I'll post some of these old poems over time as I feel like it.

Here is one to start it off:


Depression

The feeling lives in my soul like maggots feasting on meat. The feeling of being miserable is so much a part of me....

Sometimes depression engulfs me and I feel as if I've been swallowed by a black hole. I'm totally lost - there's no light and I'm exhausted from the quick journey into it.

I no longer cry out for help. I used to, and as a result, got further to the center of that void. The center is called Death and I think it would give me peace. I have tried to journey there, however the survivor who lives in the cold, lonely corner of my soul would free itself from the chains and remind me she's there. Then, like a beacon, she'd point me back through the Hell until, with her help, I would crawl out of that hole.

I thank God for her. I just hope one day I can make her proud. Maybe then she can live in a nice, warm, lit room in the middle of my soul and celebrate because we both lived through it all.

Note (wrote this note when I was 29...I am now 37 and feel the same):
I cannot remember what age I was when I wrote this poem. I think I was 19 and living in Scotland at the time. What I find most surprising is though I am nearly 30, I still feel the exact, same way in certain moments of my life. Time doesn't change everything.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Death on the Brain

Am I the only person who thinks about suicide on a daily basis? I can be walking down the street and something happen and my mind whispers, "I want to kill myself". I think about death a lot and if it weren't for my daughter I'm sure my life would have ended ages ago.

Is there some neuroprocessor in my brain that is fixated on death? I don't consciously think of death. I don't dream of death. My waking mind does though for no apparent reason and I'm frankly tired of it.

I've realized that these fantasies of death and suicide occur because I just want the pain to stop. That's all it boils down to. I just want it to end.

I can't imagine being like this for the next 50 years or more. I say "or more" because my paternal great-grandmother died one month prior to her 111 birthday. Surely, I can't imagine living that long like this.

Do you think about death or suicide much or do I represent the minority in this?

Saturday, October 25, 2008

How EMDR Therapy Affected Me

Over time I have been diagnosed with Major Depression, Dysthymia, Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD) and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Because of this I have spent time in a hospital where I learned really good coping mechanisms, took meds and most importantly was introduced to "Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing", otherwise known as "EMDR".

To explain what it is a bit more, I took the following from an EMDR therapy website:

Patients who have suffered for years from anxiety or distressing memories, nightmares, insomnia, abuse or other traumatic events can now gain relief from a revolutionary new therapy called EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization Reprocessing).

Research shows that EMDR is rapid, safe and effective. EMDR does not involve the use of drugs or hypnosis. It is a simple, non-invasive patient-therapist collaboration in which healing can happen effectively.

This powerful short-term therapy is highly effective for a wide range of disorders including chronic pain, phobias, depression, panic attacks, eating disorders and poor self-image, stress, worry, stage fright, performance anxiety, recovery from sexual abuse and traumatic incidents.

Many patients who have made slow progress in the past, or who have not benefited from more traditional therapies say that with EMDR they have finally found something that works for them!

EMDR truly works. While in the hospital I was introduced to this new type of therapy and was amazed at how it helped me. I wrote the following about it (two years ago) in order for others to understand a bit more about it, how it helped me and also encourage anyone that may benefit from this type of therapy. Please note that some things discussed below can "trigger" others who have been sexually abused, so if you think that it will bother you, please don't read this post any further.

My Experience with EMDR

I was sexually abused from the age of two onwards. I had never really dealt with what happened and was able to hide the events and the emotions that stemmed from the events deep away in my soul. I walked around for 34 years acting as if it never happened. My coping mechanism was to forget about it, however sometimes the past would rise to the surface and obliterate me.

When I thought about past events, I would actually feel physical sensations such as extreme fatigue, weakness and my body would actually feel numb. My emotions would retreat to a faraway place and my mind would even feel numb and sluggish. I would yawn a lot and wanted to go to bed and sleep. That was one of my problems when I experienced what I call my “downward spiral”. I would sleep. A lot. I could sleep for days and not wake up except to go to the bathroom. I didn’t eat, read a book or do anything but sleep in a deep and dark slumber.

When I was younger, it did not affect my job because I would be able to go to work and then immediately go to bed when I got home and sleep until the next morning (or through the weekend until the next Monday morning). For some reason, as I got older, I wasn’t able to do that anymore and the downward spiral started to affect not just me, but my family and job. I couldn’t get out of the bed no matter how hard I tried. When I was awake in the bed I would very logically think about how I would kill myself without hurting my family (well, it seemed logical at the time). I missed days from work and felt horribly guilty about it. I felt like a failure. My downward spirals would last longer and longer until finally it lasted for three months. I almost lost my job at work and due to my counselor I finally made the choice to check into a psychiatric hospital. My counselor wanted me to make the choice instead of committing me herself and though it scared me to death, I agreed. That singular choice had a profound effect on me and changed my life for the better.

While in the hospital, I met with a counselor named Libby to do EMDR. I did not know what to expect and was a little worried about this “EMDR thing” I kept hearing about. Libby had told me that it could really help a lot in trying to deal with past issues that were troubling me so greatly.

As I sat in her office, she told me that EMDR might be foreign and strange to me. She explained that she would wave her hand in front of my face from left to right and back again like a fan. She said I would need to concentrate on her hand because moving my eyes left to right while watching her hand would induce the same type of reaction in my brain that REM sleep induces. It sounded quite weird, but I was ready to try anything.

She said for me to think of a place that I felt most safe. Ironically, I visually saw my bed. I never realized until then that I felt my bed was the safest place for me. No wonder it was so difficult to get out of it during my downward spirals! She told me to imagine myself there and to realize that I was truly safe and nothing could hurt me while going through EMDR.

After explaining the process, she took out a questionnaire and asked me to either remember the most traumatic event in my life or my first memory. Since I was new to EMDR, I did not want to dive right off the cliff by going over the most traumatic experience, so instead I decided to go over my first memory. Libby asked what would be best when remembering this event – to visualize it like it was on a movie screen or on a television. She explained that she didn’t want me to be there, but to try and imagine it taking place where I could see it, but not actually be a part of it. I told her a TV would work great because I have always thought that we are people walking around with TV’s in our mind that is better than any TV invented. This is why books are so wonderful because we can explore places by reading words and the TV in our mind translates the words into vivid imagery.

My first memory of life is being in the bed with a babysitter’s son. His name was Joel. I was two years old and he was approximately 18. If ever I thought about this memory, I would always see his eyes, his body and what he did to me. He was touching me and then pushed my head down on him so that I would perform oral sex on him. I would never see myself in this memory, only Joel and what he did.

Libby asked how I felt about this memory. I started yawning and told her how very tired I was and that I wanted to go to bed. I told her the memory made me feel like a weak person and that I even felt the weakness physically. She pushed further and asked what I thought about myself when I thought about this event and I told her that I felt like a failure, that I felt it was all I was good for and that I felt defenseless. She told me to say these words to myself over and over in my mind and then she started to wave her hand back and forth and told me to think about the event with the TV in my mind. The TV cut on and all I could do was watch.

Having a memory is like the TV in your mind cutting on and playing the event whether you want to view it or not. Other than sleeping or self-medicating with drugs or alcohol, it is difficult to tear yourself away from the “show” even if tearing yourself away would be the best alternative. Of course there are healthy ways to cut the TV off and though I never did drugs or alcohol, I always slept and there was no benefit in that action other than being able to forget about it for a while, only for it to loom back like a disease in my soul.

As Libby waved her hand back and forth, my mind seemed to take me visually through the event, except there was a major shift in the memory. The camera angle had changed! I did not see Joel anymore. For the first time, I saw myself...little me. I actually saw that I had on a diaper with nothing else. My hair was long down my back and I could even feel it tickling my back.

Wait a minute…it wasn’t my fault! I was so little! I was just a baby! I couldn’t even hold my bladder, hence the diapers and to think that my whole life I have walked around thinking that I could have prevented this event from occurring. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t even know that what he was doing was wrong. I was only two years old. I dealt with the event at two as a true innocent, however my entire life I viewed the event through the eyes of an adult and never had given grace to myself.

After telling Libby how I could see myself for the first time in this memory, she then asked me how I would like to feel about this memory. I told her that I wanted to feel and remember that it wasn’t my fault, that I am not defenseless and I can choose to defend myself. I am not powerless. She asked that I say these words over and over in my mind as she waved her hand back and forth again. As I said these words to myself, I saw my two-year old self. I saw my innocence and finally I gave grace to that little girl.

After the session, I could not believe that I no longer felt tired. I wasn’t yawning anymore and my body did not feel weak and numb. I felt lighter and more free. A heavy load had been taken off my shoulders and even now, weeks later, when I remember this event, I only see myself. I don’t see Joel and the anger no longer envelopes my soul. My anger is gone and I only feel love for that little girl.

Thank you, Libby!

I urge everyone who has traumatic events that still haunt them to try EMDR. It is not hocus-pocus and definitely works. I had EMDR treatment over two years ago and can still think about my first memory without the horrible emotions that used to be attached to it. It is no longer traumatic and I am ever so grateful for this therapy.

Have you tried EMDR? If so, what was your experience like?

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Sing Me to Sleep

I am typing this from my cellphone, so the spelling and grammar won't be the best.

When I was 13 years old my favorite song was a song by "The Smiths" called "Sing Me to Sleep". For some reason the song has been sliding through my mind like an oiled serpent these past few days. Verses such as:

"Sing me to sleep. Sing me to sleep. I'm tired and I want to go to bed. Sing to me...Sing to me...And then leave me alone. Don't try to wake me in the morning 'cause I will be gone. Don't feel bad for me. I want you to know that deep in the cell of my heart I will feel so glad to go. There is another world. There is a better world. Aaahhh there must be....aaaahhhh there must be."

The jaws of depression are ever wider as they beckon me to the darkness and sleep that I crave.

I realize that my period visiting is causing a lot of this hormonal upheaval. I've been in so much physical pain as well. It is so very debilitating and I can't stand much more.

If this is life as we know it, I don't want to be included.

I'm in so much pain with no way out and I hate myself so very much.

Will it ever end or do I need to end it?

John, you asked what my values are. I have pondered this question over and over to no avail. All I know right now is that I want this all-encompassing pain to go away. I want to stop being afraid. I want the demons to be set free...they must be so very bored with me...I want to stop thinking about me. It's so selfish to do and accomplishes nothing.

I've had values my whole life and I have stuck by them such as being good to others, self-sacrifice, hard work, raising a peaceful and confident and sweet child. working hard for a good marriage, working hard to get somewhere in life and bettering yourself, no stealing or lying is permissible. Be real...stand strong...help others and never judge.

I want to be strong yet feel so weak.

When I have lucid moments of wanting Dr. Phil to knock on my front door, I feel so weak because it's times like this when I am fully aware of my desperation.

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.

Monday, February 4, 2008

OMG, I Can't Stand This!

I am at work today. Thank God. It was very difficult to get in today. I am very tired and very down. I hate for people to see me like this. I am trying my best to look "OK" around people. It's difficult to so smile and put on the "the face" when you feel like this. I really hate acting. I barely have the energy to act like everything is fine.

I have to write test definitions based on business rules for the new system we are creating. All I can say is OMG...I have no concentration for this today. The bad thing is that everything is on a stopwatch. Every minute is tracked down to the second. When you lack concentration like I do today you become scared that you will burn hours.

I have a huge headache as well.

Wow, I'm certainly complaining. I just realized that. I apologize.

It's just so difficult to be here.

Yesterday morning I woke up and the first thought that went through my head was "Don't wake up, don't wake up, go back to sleep". I went back to sleep and didn't wake up until 2:00pm. I couldn't do that today.

This morning while driving I saw a car hit me, a train hit me and a truck hit me. Of course it was all in my mind. The scary thing is that I wasn't consciously thinking that I wanted to get hit. It was like the thought would go through my mind unwarranted, I would see it happen in my mind, and then I would think about what I just saw. I would then think, "Too bad it didn't happen".

I'm back on my meds. Thank you everyone for your kind comments on the last post. Ya'll help me more than you know.

I hope the meds kick in soon. Maybe that is the big problem right now. We shall see.

Tonight I have the statistics mid-term. With the way I feel, this should be a doozy.

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!!!!
That's really all I can write right now. I don't know what else to say. I am very upset even writing about it and need to stop.

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.

 
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