Today isnt a good day and I question my own judgement in writing this here, but I swore that I would live my life out loud, where people could see that others go through maybe what they're going through....and so here we are...

About ten minutes ago, I posted this to Facebook...soon it will go onto my other site:

I want to apologize in advance that I may be scarce in the coming weeks/months. I have some mental and physical health problems that I need to take care of and really focus on. This may mean me taking more time for myself so that I can get well enough to tackle life head on again. I've been trying to juggle so much that I'm not giving my best to anything and the guilt and stress of that are adding to everything and are taking their toll. I know that I owe things to people and I will get them done. I just can't say when. All I can do is apologize and hope that you can understand that right now I need some time away from things that aren't directly helping me get better.

 I promise all of you that I will get better and I will come back stronger. I'm not disappearing but taking a step back. Call me, text me, email me, message me...it all helps but please understand that right now my focus is on fixing myself and my world. I love you all very, very much. That will never change. I just want to be okay and that's going to take some work.

I wrote that last night and waited about ten hours before posting it. I had hoped that sleep would change how I felt, but it didn't. I feel as if I'm falling apart and nobody sees me anymore. Oh sure, the rational part of my brain knows that isn't true, but as so often is the case with the things I suffer with, the rational side isn't completely in charge.  Instead, I find myself in this place that I don't understand and I don't like. For 90% of Valentines Day, I was okay. It was just another day and then suddenly a post was made by a friend of mine and I got angry. I got angry that he's with someone and I'm not...and yes, a bit that when he was single, he didn't notice me. Please, don't mistake this for jealousy. It could easily be seen that way and it's not. It's not just certain people being in relationships. It happens when a friend had a story published in an anthology and I saw him give a ton of credit for it to someone else even though I was his cheerleader and his editor. It happens when someone tells me I have no idea what I'm talking about even though I've been doing something for years. It's just that right now, I'm having these knee jerk reactions...I'm reacting and it's taking every last bit of energy that I have not to lash out. I'm living in a constant state of stress...my chest feels as if it's ice cold and burning at the same time all the time. I'm breaking apart and though I know there are others struggling too, all I seem to be able to see is everyone else's joy...new babies, new relationships, happy relationships, etc. More and more I feel like an outsider and it allows my fears to get a stronger grip.

Things that I thought I had gotten past...like my family and their pure jackassedness ...are popping up and instead of walking away and shaking my head, I'm struggling with the desire to just tell them precisely how I feel about how they're behaving now and in the past. My blood pressure is up, my body is one stress reaction after another...
 
How many of us have seen this image on places like Facebook? I'm sure a lot of us. I saw it again last night and it hit me...I'm not getting better. I had been getting better, but something shifted and now I'm getting bitter. When I feel as if nobody sees me or nobody appreciates what I do, I'm getting angry. I'm getting frustrated. I just want to throw my hands up in the air and walk away from everything. I want to say "fuck off" to everyone and just live a life of seclusion where I can be alone...except, I'd be alone with my anger and everything else. It wouldn't help. 

There's so much more to this....how I've become afraid of the outside world, why I hoard people even those who have been nasty to me, how I don't feel as if I'm worth spending $35 on....and I know that I'll write those and maybe a few of you will read them and maybe it will resonate with one or two of you and somehow help. If it helps even one person, it makes the fight a little more worth it. 



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I never wanted to go back and yet here I am. It's been about six weeks since everything seemed to fall apart and in those six weeks, I've slowly been trying to piece my world...myself...back together again and all it took was a couple of pictures and I'm on the floor, curled up, crying all over again.

PTSD can be a bitch like that. All it takes is one little thing and suddenly you're reliving everything all over again. I thought I was getting better. Sure, there were rough moments, but I'd kept going. I'd fought. Even in the worst of it, he told me that I would get back up again and go on kicking ass like I always did.

I'd been trying to condition myself for things that might come...things that might hurt...things that might trigger, but I didn't expect them to come the way they did. I didn't prepare myself. I have this cold spot. It's right in the middle of my chest. If you touch it, the skin is actually colder there. It's as if seeing what I did sent an ice arrow right through me and it's so cold that it burns. It'd been weeks since that had happened. I was stronger. I was ready to move on.

Now, it's as if everything just happened. I want to hide. I cry. I sob. I pant trying to stop myself from hyperventilating. My skin feels like there's something crawling and I have to fight not to scratch. Every single awful thing keeps running through my head like a movie reel. I stare at my screen...at pictures of friends...and I whisper help me, someone please help me. Take me from this hell...but they can't hear me. I'm alone in this awful place.

Why do I write this? I write this to save myself. Maybe if I share this with the world then maybe there's a chance I can survive this. Maybe I can tap more into the anger that's deep inside of me...anger at myself for giving anyone this kind of control in my life and anger with him for letting his cowardice lead to cruelty. The fact that it's in there means there's hope. I'm not totally lost to this. Maybe if I share this, someone else will realize that they're not alone when it happens to them.

So what's next for me? I don't rightly know. More and more I'm starting to think that therapy is something I should seek. There's also the voice of someone I love in my head telling me to fight, not to hide...I don't know what I'm going to do. Hiding keeps me safe from the world and the scary things in it. Nobody can hurt me if I don't open myself up to them.  I feel as if I don't really have anyone that I can talk to about this. The platitudes don't help a lot though the thought behind them is appreciated. Those who try to intellectualize this just make it worse. My support network has gone eerily quiet, even when I've tried to reach out. I don't judge. I know life gets busy and that there's not always the time for things like this.

For today, I'll make some lunch...and wish that I weren't always the one reaching out to those I love...and maybe let the cat have her way in her desires to sit on me.



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I should probably apologize for falling off the face of the Earth, but all I'm going to say is that the past few months took on a life of their own and everything came to a head last Tuesday.

I'm not going to get into a lot of details here because on some level, they just don't matter. What matters is the end result.

As most of you know, I deal with a multitude of mental issues every day...bipolar 2, ptsd, anxiety, ocd...and most of the time, I manage. This time, I didn't. In the midst of a depressive cycle, the man that I had fallen in love with decided that he wanted to pursue a relationship with someone else. It was too much. I've been fighting my own demons for months and I was emotionally exhausted. I had nothing left.

So, last Wednesday, while driving into town to do homework with the kids, my brain wouldn't stop ticking. It wouldn't stop thinking about everything and suddenly, I had this moment of clarity..the kind where everything seems to fall into place. I didn't want to live anymore. I wanted to die. This wasn't just one of those passing thoughts. It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in my head. There's no reason for me to be on this planet. I could die and life would go on for everyone else and it would be okay. Everyone had someone. They didn't need me.

I did homework with Ben. I tried to spend time with Roger. I tried not to cry. The one person who I had trusted more than anyone on this planet reached out to me and I told him. Even though just seeing his name caused me physical pain, I told him. He reached out to others who tried to contact me. I ignored them all. I didn't want to be talked out of this. The decision felt right.

When it was time to leave the school, I sat in my car saying goodbye to my children, to those that I love. I sat there crying for a while, the pain raw and consuming. Then, I started my car and headed out of town. As each car passed me, I prayed that it would hit me and I would die. I scouted places where if I drove my car off fast enough, it might roll or hit a tree or cause enough damage that I wouldn't live. As I got closer to home, a truck stopped a ways up in front of me and for a few moments, my foot didn't reach for the brake. I thought if I ran into him, it might kill me and I almost didn't hit the brake. In the end, I did...simply because I wanted to come home and finalize some things...then, the next night, I would do it. Some would say this was me looking for a way out, but it wasn't. I wanted to die. I just didn't want to leave more chaos behind me than was going to happen anyway.

In the end, I made it home alive and since I'm here writing this, you can guess I didn't go out the next day and off myself. Some tiny thing shifted and while every day has had its battles, I'm still here. Still, I'm tired and I'm fragile. Sometimes I'm living minute by minute, not day by day. Mantras that worked in the past are now contorted by what has happened. My brain changes you are loved to you are alone. The battle with myself is one of the hardest that I've fought.

Is there a moral to this story or even a point? If there is, I'd say that it's a simple one. Take care of those you love. Don't accept I'm fine as a response to how are you? Get details. Care enough to listen. Be there for one another and if nothing else, hold someone's hand so that they don't feel as if they're alone as they struggle simply to survive.



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It started out as an ordinary day for Esther Comely-Cox, if you consider simultaneously totaling your car, smashing a Ho Ho in your face and meeting a handsome doctor ordinary.

Estranged from her family over her sister's mental illness and death, Esther can't help but feel alone. And when Esther hears the voice of her twin sister who committed suicide seven years ago, she begins to question her own sanity, leading her to wonder if anything is what it seems. Searching for answers, Esther must confront her past while looking towards a new future—one in which she is finally accepted.

Through humor and heartbreak, Esther learns that blood does not mean family, that absence does not make the heart grow fonder and that silence can speak volumes.

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It's rare that I rate a book 5 out of 5, but if I had to pick a number for this book, it would be a 6. Why? I would say because it touched on so many aspects of my life and did it in a way that I felt as if I knew the characters in the book. I am very much estranged from my family, not for the same reasons as Esther, but for reasons not so far off. There were times, in the book, where something would happen and I just wanted to hug her and tell her that not everyone thought like that. I too deal with mental illness and know how it can affect those around you. Esther is a super hero as far as I'm concerned. Don't wait to stumble upon this book. Go out and get it. If for no other reason than it might just change your world.



I received a copy of this book for the purpose of this review.  All thoughts, comments and opinions are my own.

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I've spent the past 30 hours wanting to write here, even needing to write here but not knowing what to say. I always find that to be such a sad irony; the girl who has a writer's soul not knowing what to write. I guess let's start with what the doctor said...

I broke it down for some friends like this:

1. It turns out that I'm brilliant. IQ testing, for what it's worth, put me at smarter than 90% of the people on the planet.
2. I have PTSD that mostly likely began when I was about 3 and has continued untreated well into adulthood. The other "traumas" that I have gone through have only made it worse and in part most likely led to...
3. What is most likely Bipolar II disorder. The testing that I did wasn't geared towards that but it did come up as a possibility and after discussing my symptoms that the testing didn't go over, he's pretty convinced.

So...now what? Now, I wait to hear back from my primary care doctor to see if they'll write me a prescription for a lithium based medication. I also have to call and set up a therapy schedule with a therapist who specializes in trauma therapy for women and children.

On paper, that's where I am right now. Inside my head, I'm so far from there. The stress and anxiety of yesterday has led to exhaustion and depression today. Add into that what one friend calls the "female chemical factory" that's going on inside of my body and I'm left wondering what the point of it all is.

I'd love to be able to say don't worry, I'll be fine, but the reality is..or at least the reality inside of my own head...I don't know. I don't know if I will ever be "fine" again. I look around and I see people smiling and laughing and so much of the time, it feels as if I don't even recognize those emotions. I put on a brilliant show, but deep down, I'm not sure what happy even is.

There are times..maybe too many times..that I sit and think about how I wish nobody really cared about me because then I could just vanish. Somehow, I could just cease to exist on this planet and the world would be such a better place. The oddest part? When I have those thoughts, I'm disconnected from them. There's no deep emotional well that they're coming from. If I were to say it out loud, it would be said in that same bored tone like, "Yeah, I should take the garbage out."

So I would love to say don't worry...because I'll be okay, but instead it's don't worry, you'll be okay. Who knows, maybe I will be too. After all, this is only 2/3 of my world...the rest of it is nothing like this...

For now though, I'm going to leave you with two posts..written by someone who has said and illustrated it so much better than I can right now. She's been there, so she understands...please go and read these and leave her your support.

Adventures in Depression Part I and Adventures in Depression Part II



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Tomorrow is the day where I find out if I'm officially crazy. I've said it before and I guess I'm going to say it again...I don't know which idea is scarier..the one where he looks at me and says there's nothing wrong with you or the one where he looks at me and says yeah, you were right. You have entire subscriptions to issues. I've spent so many years fighting this and I'm so tired. I'm so dang tired and scared.

I'm tired of the days where I wake up and my brain just doesn't work right. It's so hard to explain. It's like I'm in a room and one minute, it's open and light and airy. The next minute, it's filled with dense fog and suddenly there are walls that I can't see and I keep smacking into them. If I try to push past it, I get terrible headaches.

I'm tired of the days where everything seems to be okay but then suddenly I'm caught up in this whirlwind of fear and anxiety and all I can do is sit and rock while I cry, whispering please can't someone help me? Those are the days where I feel so incredibly alone. I feel as if nobody on the planet has the time to just sit and spend a bit of time talking to me. Those are the days when I want to throw myself at the feet of some and beg them to just hug me and tell me that it's going to be okay because okay is the last thing that I can see.

I'm even tired of the up days. The up days where everything is remarkably clear and I can focus and my brain works at super sonic speeds and I get a thousand things done. I'm happy and cheerful and optimistic and nothing can bring me down. They also leave me exhausted, both mentally and physically. Plus, I can't maintain those levels and when I crash, I crash hard.

I'm tired of living life on this rollercoaster where there are times when I don't feel as if I have any control. I'm tired of the "side effects" of living a life this way. I need answers and tomorrow, I will get answers. It's been close to two weeks since I sat in that room and took a battery of tests. Before I took the tests, the psychologist told me that he thinks part of my problem is that I'm too smart and that I'm not using my brain to its potential so it gets bored and bored brains are bad things. He wasn't surprised that I found myself doing editing since it requires a high level of intelligence and attention to detail. Then, I took the tests and I left feeling like an idiot. It's not surprising. The tests are meant to challenge your brain and mine hasn't been properly challenged in a long time. It's like using muscles that haven't been used in years..they moan and groan and struggle.

Tomorrow, I get answers and I'm scared. Deep down I know that it will all be okay but on those upper levels, I'm scared and I just want someone to hug me, to hold me and to tell me that it's all going to be okay.




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