What we do matters.
They are real souls, the 10 people who are watching DF, who are so scared of the stigma, imprisoned at 'home' to such a degree, or hurting so deeply.....10 are watching at any given moment for every 1 who dared to even sign up anonymously.
If you read this, you probably have encouraged at least one person anonymously, with nothing to gain, just out of love. And for every 1, there were really 10, check out 'Activity/All Users' to see for yourself.
How terrible is a disease that 10 are afraid to admit it for every 1 who does.....How valuable is even one note of encouragement, 1 genuine hug. Multiply your hugs by 10........You're changing outcomes of life, you really are
Ken and I had an amazing weekend together. We hung out, just the two of us, having fun. We did some extracurricular activities both Friday and Sat night and watched the live Phish shows from home. What a blast! We needed some fun after a weekend of dealing with his elderly parents. It was great to cut loose. We also had just seen Phish earlier in the week in Albany, NY. I think our show was the best one so far. It was pretty amazing!!! I am floating from a nice weekend of blissful fun.
I won't think about what's coming up next week at work. Right now I just want to fully enjoy the moment.
I no longer write my main blog. I no longer eat regularly. I no longer do my assignment my psychologist gives me. We are trying to overcome my delusional fears but I no longer care. Everything is pointless. I am still going work but I don't know how long. What's the point working with people when I no longer want to have any human contact. I don't want to see my family or friends. I don't care about them anymore.
I am hurting. I am cutting again too but I'm not physically hurting. I do it for few minutes endorphine rush that gives my brain a break from anxiety. Benzodiazepines do the trick too but I am saving them. Just for the case I need an escape.
This week has been hard. I can't really remember but I remember it's been hard. I barely remember what day it is. It's probably because kids have a fall break from school this week and my husband hasn't been working all week. My depression isn't that bad yet but eventually my brain will shut down again.
My husband brought up some relationship issues and I have to find strength to answer him. I asked for a time-out before answering. He wrote me a long message about how he doesn't know anymore what I want from him if anything and therefore he can't see future with me. I don't know how to tell him. My illness controls me and I've lost myself. I am no capable of marriage or relationship. I have nothing to give. He doesn't see our future but I don't see any future. I don't see my life to continue. I can't see my kids growing up. I see nothing. I wish he found somebody else to share our life with. I know my kids love me so much but I am not a good care-taker. They deserve better.
I am only learning how devastating this illness is. When I got a bipolar disorder diagnosis a year ago I thought finally things would get better. Finally I had diagnosis that made sense and right medication to improve a quality of my life. I thought I had already faced the worst during these 20 years of illness. But the worst is ahead. I have found a combination of medication that prevents highs but now I've learned that it doesn't prevent depression. It happens again and again no matter what and now it seems that nothing happening in my life seems to contribute to it. It seems to be random brain chemistry.
I am tired. I seem to have four severe episodes in one year. That seems to be the cycle now. That is just crazy. I was in a hospital for severe depression few months ago. Depression turned into hypomania overnight while I was in hospital. And then hypomania turned back to depression. I need a break from this. I need to heal and feel normal for at least few months.
Why all this struggle when there is no prize?
I no longer can do this. Can't do this life.
In the 21st century, it's hard to believe we still have coffins.
They're not very sustainable and they look ridiculously unfair on the already mournful people that have to lug them around. And the final rinse of the religious centrifuge seems like yesterday's pomp.
What was ever the point anyway? Preservation? Then why not vacuum-sealed like the meat thrifty people throw into the back of their freezer? Or be cast in a big slab of epoxy? And be like a coffee table down there in the underworld.
The Egyptians did set the bar very high and who knows how standards slipped so far.
I should make it clear I'm not plotting my own funeral.
Nope, I wasn't ...aren't...in the tidiest of emotional spaces so I disappeared into the rose garden to give them some love and attention. I did none of that because they were in stunning, spring bloom and look absolutely gorgeous. So i just breathed it in. I thought, when I die, no wooden box for me. I think I would like to be wrapped in silk, be otherwise naked, and cocooned in a tightly bound wicker of climbing roses.
The pall bearers might need really thick gloves. Or draw straws.
Nevermind, the dead don't care.
Somehow I've managed to lose a couple of weeks. Crazy, I know. I don't know where they slipped off to, and now it's too late to use them. Like expired coupons. I would like to be able to keep a journal every day, and failing that, at least three times a week. And yet here we are with the first thing in two weeks.
I feel like it's been a rough two weeks, though. We did our first 'Photo Walk' and got to see my dad. My dad had knee surgery. My step sister had surgery for breast cancer. My oldest had her second child, we helped get the house ready for that. My boss and co-worker went on vacay the same week, so it's been just me and the part-timer. It sort of makes me mad, though, that my boss went on vacay this week. She actually changed her plans. Initially she was going to be back the day my co-worker went on her vacay - which my co-worker goes on vacay the same time every year. Then the last week of September my boss changed her plans to be gone this whole week, knowing my co-worker would be gone and knowing we had a program this week, too. Thankfully the program ended up cancelled for unrelated reasons. What makes me mad is that my boss did this, yet would not let me take a day off before our local charity group (that works closely with the library I work at) had their annual book sale last month. She was going to be there that day, and my co-worker and the part-timer. So there was really no need to deny me a day off I requested. So I feel like that is 'double standards' in action. Our bosses' boss wanted me to tell her about these types of incidents, so I am debating doing that.
I've realized the last couple of days how really burned out I am. I've thought it was just physical exhaustion, but it's deeper than that. I am so burned out. I really don't care anymore. I'm the only one paying bills, so I keep going in to work. But I really don't want to be there anymore.
I am the problem.
I am a bad wife
I am a bad housewife.
(Wait a minute.)
I work too.
I know my job isn't that important in your opinion.
I like to think that
I make a difference
I know you say your job is so stressful
I believe you.
I dont need you to tell me based on premise and statistics and
I welcome you talking about it
I know you need to let it out
I know you need to but
I don't deserve you negating my own stress like
I am not special enough to feel
I am the problem
I am the reason we have issues and
I am not allowed to have issues
I admit...I haven't been 100% compliant with my medication this past month or so. It was completely inadvertent.
I get really sick to my stomach if I take Zoloft without food, and I'm just not hungry for a few hours in the morning. Even with an alert on my phone every morning, I have to put it off until I've eaten, and by then I usually forget until it's too late in the day.
I must note: this is my first experience with antidepressants, and I've been on them since February. Only in the past month or so I've started missing doses 3-4 times a week.
Anyway, I never "noticed" the difference those pills made when it was happening, but out of nowhere a few months ago, I realized my mood was on the rise. But recently, I've been truly awful. My motor functions have been slowed down; I've been tired throughout the days; I've been overly sad and unmotivated, and felt deeply heavy in every way.
We eventually thought it might have had something to do with my non-compliance, so I've had my boyfriend help to ensure that I take my pills everyday, regularly.
It's been almost a week of daily doses and I find myself wanting to crawl out of my skin. I can't sit still without fidgeting. I have trouble falling asleep again. I'm clumsy and jittery, and my mind is going a thousand miles a minute with bizarre anxiety.
I feel like I'm starting all over again.
I hoped that I might be able to start tapering off sooner than later, but I don't think that's an option at this point. It's just ****ing depressing.
As the title says, and not that anyone cares to read all this to the end. But anyway, this will be my last post on this forum, as a form of my own closure.
I had been here for 8 years, from the age I was 23 before I got married, to when I got married at 26 and as I go through the rough patches of marriage to now I am 31.
I came here cos I was suicidal from the stress and pressures of being in the top school of my country, from failing and ended up going to one of the worst schools of my country, from being molested by my ex-colleague in his own house and he whom I had looked at as a father figure, from rushing into marriage with my first bf that I met when I was 26 out of fear that no one else will like me anyway, from the regret and the signing of the divorce papers and going for marriage counselling, from living and still living with my mother-in-law, from the difficulties of getting impregnated, and the struggles still continue.
The past few weeks I have been scrolling around the forums looking for people I can help. There are already many people here who are already very helpful. And some posts I see, I feel like I wanna help. I really do. I typed out a long paragraph and deleted a few words and repeated that a few times for a few posts but I never posted.
I just don't know how to help. And it kinda hurts. Cos I can't really help them see if they don't see it themselves. That this life is full of suffering. Life is essentially an endless series of problems. The solution to one problem is merely the creation of another. Things go wrong, people upset us, accidents happen. These things make us feel like sh*t.
And I have lived through so much to learn to just stop caring about the things that happened, to stop comparing myself with others, to just accept myself as who I am.
But, I just don't know how to explain it to the people here. If only we can enjoy life like forever without suffering. If only. But life does not work that way. We can't filter life and just take the good without the bad. We are a sum of our experience. Including the s*it that happens.
But I can't tell you to snap out of it, because that's not how depression works. It takes a toll on us and we need to grief and swim in it and struggle in it and almost drown in it, because when we are drowning, that's when our hands do their utmost best to grab anything and everything around them for help. You need to fall so far so deep deep down to that point in which you yourself snap and tell yourself that you are done with all this happening to you, and you are going to take responsibility for your life and do everything in your power to change, including forgiving yourself and your past whether you like them or not.
And if by luck, you get the right help, you get out, but don't imagine it's that easy. And if you're unlucky, you keep swimming around in it until you get lucky. But don't stop swimming. Never. Cos life is one problem after another.
No you don't stop crying either. Because when you stop crying you're no longer living. The key is to keep searching for the ways to have our emotions under control to be able to survive and be happy from solving the never-ending problems in life. Don’t hope for a life without problems. There’s no such thing. Instead, hope for a life full of good problems. The desire for more positive experience is itself a negative experience. And, paradoxically, the acceptance of one’s negative experience is itself a positive experience.
So how do I explain all this to everyone? That I got lucky. That I got my emotions under control because I recently have found and I have understand the meaning of life. That I know that every suffering I receive is good. I can't explain it. And of course, this I have to say because it's the main thing that helped me recover from my depression. I found my God, my Creator. And everything else does not matter. It does not. It's really a liberating feeling to just leave it all to Him. To know that everything I receive, I receive it from Him because I can't get anything myself. To know that I have done my very best and I leave the rest to Him. To know that the water I drink in front of me is from Him. To know that the Mother-In-Law shouting came from Him. To know that there is no point to continue a conversation with a toxic person because He understands me and that is sufficient for me. So I live my life for Him, I belong to Him, and everything I do, I do my best as much as He allows me to.
And I can't explain that to the people here. And that's it. Accept it. One of the important skills in life is to accept things that I cannot change. Accept it I will.
But there's so many many great people here and great ideas from the people here, and I really wish they can see it.
Thank you to whoever who reads this and to everyone here who has helped me with my depression, and may we all recover from this painful disease.
And I'll end with a quote from Neil deGrasse Tyson:
"The atoms of your body, are traceable to the stars that manufactured them, in the core of the thermonuclear fusion, inside the cores of stars. And these stars exploded, scattered these elements across the galaxy into the next generation gas clouds, that then collapsed to form star systems, with ingredients that can now make planets, with planets that now have ingredients that can now make life.
We are alive in this universe because our atoms are traceable to the universe itself. The universe is alive within us.
You are special not because you are different from the universe.
You are special because you are the same as the universe."
During past couple of months I've been healing from both, depression and hypomania. It hasn't been an easy path to recovery. I have suffered from many symptoms on my way. It's been a struggle and now I have to admit I am back to square one. I have fallen ill with depression again if I ever really got over it at the first place.
I've been talking about my symptoms like being tired all the time without realising I am actually ill. I've been blaming things like autumn and shorter days. That is just bullshit. All I needed to do is look around and see it but I haven't been ready to see clearly.
I am depressed.
I've lost pretty much every progress I've made this far on my journey to recovery. I had to re-build all my routines. I learned to eat and sleep again. I learned to take care of myself and revived my social life. I re-gained my concentration again so I was able to read and write again. Now I've pretty much lost all.
Now I can see it was devious depression making it's way in my head and body. I keep asking myself how is this possible? It's been only few months since I was in a hospital. But this is the truth. There's a good day every now and then but good days are getting rare.
I am tired of life. I can manage working part time but I don't manage home life. It's all becoming too overwhelming. Piece by piece depression is taking over my life. I've still got my will to live so it's not quite there yet. But it probably will be. I'll give it three weeks.
My life had been going downhill since the end of my childhood, as it became more and more difficult to deny that I did not belong in my family or my social environment. But the climax of the tragedy, the thick of the throes occurred when I was 17. It is a story about a series of events which took place due to a pathetic, weak, insecure, empty, stupid young man's lack of common sense, self respect, or expected maturity. It is a story that I've repeated many times to strangers on the internet, for which I have often been invalidated, shamed, and mocked for. It derailed my life and is the source of my deep-seated shame. It is a story that many would consider of no consequence, or in layman's terms, "not that bad".
But to me it was, and still is, devastating.
When I was in high school, I was more awkward, desperate to be accepted, and stupid than many of my peers. I did and said countless many dumb things, which caused me to be somewhat socially rejected and the object of teasing. As a result I was very lonely, which, mixed in with my exceptional stupidity, was a dangerous factor.
One day a girl moved to our school. We were in the dying months of our junior year, our penultimate year. The year until that point had not been all that bad. In fact, I felt myself making progress in life. I had the best grades I'd ever earned in school, looking at straight A's across the board, an interest in fitness, a good reading habit, and the makings of a man worth being.
One day I received a note, written with poor penmanship in a difficult to read pink ink on a crumpled lined paper. The note was a proposal for a relationship from the new girl. She'd only been here for a couple months. Alone and fearing that my lack of romantic experience would label me as less of a man, I decided to accept the proposal. Very few days go by when I do not wish I could go back to this very moment and undo the grave error I had made.
Word got out and I soon began to garner attention in the hallways. Heads shaking, teeth kissing, sounds and murmurs of disapproval and derision at my expense. I received warnings from friends, anonymous text messages telling me what an idiot I was, even jeers on the street.
I soon learned that in the couple of months that the girl had been attending our school, she had earned quite the reputation for herself. She was extremely promiscuous, and involved with a bad crowd.
I have to take many pauses because I feel so ashamed of myself, remembering details I thought I'd forgotten.
I learned some from others, and some from her. I told her that I didn't care what had happened before she met me. But I did care, I was only trying to sound mature and accepting. I was trying to be different from the others. Little did I know, they were right. And how desperately I wish I had heeded their warnings.
She repeatedly tried to pressure me into sex. I had no experience and I was very self conscious. I was too young, immature, and unprepared. She used every manipulative tactic she could: telling me that I was a bad boyfriend, and even using her friend's cellphone to impersonate her friend telling me that she'd end the relationship if I did not sleep with her soon. I'd reject her, until one day I didn't. In the old, unused, dusty basement of my high school, I unfortunately lost my virginity to the worst, sexually insecure, parasitic, toxic, genuinely disgusting people I have ever met. But I was nervous, unprepared, and unwilling. Much to her dismay and disappointment, I could not perform.
A couple of weeks later I found myself in a physical altercation with a guy who had been showing a great deal of interest in her and often harassed me. I later found out she had been providing him sexual favours. In the moment I got angry, tensions rose, and a teacher stepped in to calm things down. I left the room and went for a walk. I then realized that I had forgotten my bag. I returned to find much of the previous crowd of people gone. I was later informed that she had told everyone present about my poor performance, which included people I was close to, and the people who had bullied me. I felt a crushing amount of shame writing these past couple paragraphs. I have never had the chance to tell anyone in proper detail.
So things between her and I had ended. It was summer vacation and I passed the summer feeling deep sorrow over what I had suffered. The new school year began and things picked up where they'd left off. I was in contact with her again, and I could not tell you why. She gave me a half-assed apology and I am disgusted with myself to say that it was enough for me.
This was an important time for me. It was time to apply for college, and my grades should have been my main priority. Unfortunately, because of my preoccupation with her, I under-performed in academics as well.
We were together again from around Halloween to New Years. She told me she had been seeing her ex while we had been apart. I later learned that he had impregnated her, and his brother had as well.
She began trying to pressure me into sex again. This time I did not give in so easily. It all came to be too much for me, and I ended the relationship for good that January. During the entire ordeal I was constantly hounded by classmates, asking me what I was doing with someone like her. The only support I had was a guy who lived in my neighbourhood. And surely enough, after I had left her, she then offered him a similar proposal and he accepted. He turned on me, and for reasons I do not understand, he was not subject the abuse from her, or from peers, that I had been.
She had constantly lied to me. She had repeatedly cheated on me. She had talked behind my back, calling me "soft" and other insults. I learned that she was kicked out of her old school for drug addiction and sex in the school basement. I learned that she had been impregnated twice during her spell at our institution, and had a child with her biological brother at the age of 12; a child which is around 11 years old today and living with adoptive parents. I learned that she had been prostituting herself during our relationship, and had been involved with a gang. Her mother has HIV, her adoptive parents divorced because of her, and due to the damage she has inflicted to her body in the form of miscarriages, abortions, narcotics, and STDs, she is likely no longer to conceive biological children (thank goodness).
Not a day has gone by in the last 6 years that I have not been reminded of and deeply regretted these events with such deep shame strong enough to drive me to near suicide. I did not end up getting into the college I wanted. I lost the respect of the majority of my peers. I lost what little respect I had in myself. My memories of high school will be forever tainted by her abuse, lies, humiliation, and what she has taken from me. I turn my face whenever I see someone in public who knew of what happened, as I am far too ashamed to look them in the eye.
She is the worst of scum, the bottom of the barrel, the crusted feces caking the bottom of the social totem pole. She does not deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of us, let alone burden humanity with another moment of her repulsive existence.
So I sit here at the age of 23, psychologically scarred, sexually insecure, severely depressed, viciously self-loathing, crippled by shame and plagued by unrelenting regret. I hate myself for all the poor choices I have made throughout my short time so far on Earth, and these events have played a major role in why I often wish I was dead, or feel that I am so deserving of punishment. It has ruined my life, and soiled me. No decent woman deserves to end up with someone who has been sullied as I have. I cannot forgive myself, nay, I will not forgive myself. I had many warnings, many chances to snap back to my senses, but I ignored my better judgement and refused to tend to my true priorities. I have done this to myself. I cannot tell anyone because they would not understand, as it had not happened to them.
My university education has gone to waste due to my poor start and lack of momentum. Now I cannot pursue a field I desire, because of the domino effect she caused in my life. I am haunted by a fierce depression, I cannot envision a future for myself. I have made my bed, and now I must sleep in it. I will spend the rest of my life paying for the poor choices I made at the age of 17.
Just back from visiting his parents in Florida, which honestly was a little hard since they're elderly and not well, but we still had a great time. We returned home to find a package containing our wedding rings! We bought them ahead of time, but now we have them. We tried them on and they're both really nice! Now we just need to figure out a wedding!!! We still don't know how we're going to pay for the wedding. It's going to be very small! LOL. Just immediate family. But it will be fun!!! And then we'll have a big party with our friends after... anyways, I'm sure I've already written about that. I'm just excited our rings arrived much earlier than expected!!! Here's us in Florida! 😃
Kids have this week off from school. Little autumn break before darkest months. Weather has been exceptional for few days now. I am glad I took the kids to the Seafortress. Something was must-do. I don't want them to see the way I really am.
We had great time and spending a day enjoying nature and surroundings gave me a break from anxiety. There is a but though. Why do I always feel guilty enjoying something? It happens every time. It's like I don't deserve it.
Anyways, my mind is too overwhelmed. My kids exhaust me and they are not even small anymore. My brain capacity is limited and I am not able to write so I'll share some photos instead. Enjoy!
I think me, myself and I need to spend some quality time locked together in grim reflection. Oh well, it's been a few days. If nothing else and if history is a guide that also makes us a few days overdue. Seated together at the dresser, we can do some really fun shit like looking into the Mirror of Madness and peer, plaintively, once again at the yawning, foggy chasm the divides what we want to say from what we do say. Oh, us.
Maybe it was just growing anxiety. Maybe I could have just said that.
Instead, I told him that if he dies I am going to come over there and revive him for just long enough to do it myself. And that is the (only) forum-friendly bit. Holy hell, I even asked Ruby, out loud, if pandas could eat people.
Not his fault. I encouraged him to go because I saw how willing he was and how much it took to re-organise his ... interests, let's say ... so I could live my vocational dream. I saw with rare clarity that he needed to get a century or two away from the phone and the very demanding world he lived in and everything else and just clear his head. And come home cleansed. Because that is what he does for me. Everyday.
So when he and his ________, ________, _______ mates decided to spend seven weeks on a slighly skewed, reverse Mongol horde type tour from Moscow to Cambodia or Burma or some ****ing where I was genuinely all in. He can't comprehend half of what I love either so why should I complain. I even wriggled the promise of a jade bracelet out of him if he promised to not go stepping on any landmines.
Just as an aside, his uber-ethical, paleolithic mate with the beard to prove it questioned my willingness to exploit cheap overseas labour and I told him not to judge me in his cheap Chinese t-shirt. Thus, they were all satisfied I was cool with it.
Until they left.
Now I ain't.
I want him to come home.
"My name is Ted and one day I'll dead dead. Yo, Yo" he sang down the phone. That would ordinarily put me in a good place, not least because I love-love-love that song. And he knows it.
And I can't call him back
A blog from the Scientific American imagined a world in which people had a different worldview.
What if everyone adopted the Hindu, Buddhist concept of universal Oneness. The idea that everyone and everything is one. All physical matter, consciousness, and realities, merged as one collective entity.
As an agnostic, I am tempted to dismiss this concept, as it has the distinct stench of religion.
But many religions, especially Abrahamic ones, vehemently reject a concept that lumped their god with any mortal being, but Hinduism agrees with just that: That we are all god and god is all of us.
And as the old saying goes, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend". Any perspective rejected by popular faiths piques my interest, and this is an idea supported by logic and reductionist reasoning.
If you remove pieces from a car, starting with the engine, the tires, doors, how long before it stops being a car? It is difficult to tell, suggesting that a "car" is simply a concept attached to a cluster of matter resembling a certain form. At its base, the car is made of metal, rubber, glass, fiber, and gasoline. Those pieces are made of atoms, which are made up of subatomic particles, a rabbit hole that eventually, according to quantum physics, ends in quarks. But everything else is made of quarks, you and I, the synapses which form your consciousness, your laptop/phone/tablet, the earth and all matter in the universe. Black holes are simply the lack of matter, like the silence between the notes of a piano piece, which are just as much of a part of the music as the sounds are. So the universe becomes one. A sea of quarks that vibrate in different ways to form different things.
If the world believed in oneness, we would break down walls and see each other as an extension of ourselves. When we hold a pen, our brain thinks of the pen as another finger. Imagine if we thought of other humans as an extension of ourselves, of the Earth as our flesh and blood, of the universe as our own consciousness infinitely and precisely. We live vicariously through everything, and everything lives inside of us. We take care of each other as we would take care of those we love, we take care of our planet as we would our own abode, we define ourselves as "everything" instead of "mother, father, brother, sister, child, employee, citizen, man, woman, winner, loser, rich, poor", or even "me". What a world that would be.
Yesterday was really...something. I had to traipse all over town looking for prescription cat food for my two felines, both of whom have urinary tract issues. My daughter was along for the ride too. At one point, we were negotiating a traffic circle when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye...it was some guy on a motorcycle doing 30+ MPH as he rounded the curve. I nailed the accelerator to get out of his way. Scared the hell out of me. Once on the straightaway, he caught up to me and started to pass on a 2 lane road. He got beside me on the driver's side and was yelling all kinds of obscenities at me. Then he would ride in front of me and lay on the brakes, forcing me to stop suddenly (with cars coming up on my rear bumper). I was trying to avoid him by taking alternate streets but he kept it up. He was screaming and motioning at me to pull over. Another car tried to get between him and I but he would roar right around them too.
I kept right on going because A. my daughter was with me and B. I didn't know if he was packing heat or not. This went on for 15 minutes! He'd pull in front, grab his brakes, swing over as to hit my vehicle's door, and then pass me again. I finally ditched him by pulling into a busy parking lot at an electronics store. He didn't follow me in there because of all the potential witnesses, I suppose. The guy was absolutely psychotic. He was younger and BIG. I'm older and was driving my rusty old minivan. Why he saw me as a threat, I just don't know.
I was able to avoid a collision in the traffic circle by getting the fook out of his way. And he goes off on me. Gah! Took an hour for my heart to stop racing. 😮
This job is well.... there's pluses and minuses like any job I suppose. There's good people. I love my boss. They have win.e and be.er hour every other Thursday, summer Fridays where we get to leave early on Fri (half day), and the culture is warm, supportive and inviting. The CEO loves me and I'm doing a great job so far -- all positives right?
BUT........ I have to do these freaking long as.s reports each month for every client -- they're seven pages long each. Then I have to do a client presentation for each client, reviewing the reports, answering questions and reviewing strategy. After reporting week and client meetings, there's really only two weeks of the month to actually work on client projects. Today I failed at my client presentation -- I fumbled and was obviously nervous. I am not used to giving presentations and have ptsd. Well, it basically sucked for me, and I am now missing my former cushy work from him job where I was just editing web pages, just recently. Now that was nice and easy, but only part time and hardly enough money.
So I am making a huge amount more in salary, which is nice too, but is it really worth it?!?
I've only been there three months or so. I am already thinking maybe I will move on after a year..... another downside? I have yet to learn anything new!
I just do not know. Today was brutal, AND I've had no sleep. I am going to Florida this weekend then to NY so I will be rejuvenated (I hope) from the trips!
That's all for now.
I had a little back to reality moment today. A panic attack caused by my daughter knocking mightily the front door after school. They usually use their keys or the door remains unlocked whenever someone is home. Today she knocked and I triggered. Sounds ridiculous, I know. Unfortunately that's me. I am terrified of people knocking my door and endless list of other things. A great reminder how f**ked up my mind is. Dear Universe, thank you very much for a reminder.
I got to thinking when you are chronically ill, how do you know when you are well? How do you know when you are mentally stable? My moods are stable thanks to lithium and antipsychotics but am I well now? And what about panic disorder? Does it sync with my bipolar or is it separate? I feel okay. There are no highs and lows but definitely panic attacks and social anxiety. I sleep too much and I can only work part time. This is the best health I've been in years. Is this all I get? Will it ever get better than this?
Being mentally ill all and the rest of my life really is some hard core stuff. Not for everybody but I've made it this far against the odds. I have to get well over and over again without a promise of a better tomorrow. I am managing my moods now. It gives me a feeling of stability. It's a fallacious thought. I have no control over other problems.
I've been suffering from shorter days and now I am afraid I am facing a new challenge. I work only 60% but it's taking 100% of my brain capacity. I've worked only five shifts since I got back. I get through my shifts very well but at home everything feels too much. I've lost my concentration and therefore writing is not a pleasure but a stuggle. Every blog post or whatever is becoming harder and harder to carry out. I wonder if I tried to compensate working only 60% with writing 40%. Why do I need to give 100% of me when I am clearly not up to that?
There's no going back to my old life. I won't survive that life anymore. I've reached a point where there is only one way to go. Meeting reality.
(By the way, the panic attack was a real deal today. It left my body so exhausted that I fell asleep and burnt a cassarole in the oven.)
Ugh, I can't sleep. My fiancee is peacefully asleep and I am wide awake. I have a big client presentation tomorrow, and I am extremely nervous. I had no idea when I got into this job that I would have to present in front of a room full of people -- my worst nightmare. I am sure it will get easier in time, but right now it scares the heck out of me. I suffer from anxiety and PTSD and talking in front of groups of people can make me physically shake.
What if they ask me something I can't answer? Or what if I fumble and show my anxiety? What if don't sound as knowledgeable as I should be? These are the fears in my head... not even real thoughts, but they're there.
I'm a senior in my role now. I know I know my stuff for the most part, but there's a lot I fudge my way through, especially around the technical side.
Well, I suppose I've made it this far in my career -- hopefully I can overcome this fear and be successful presenting. The one good thing? I know more about my field than my clients -- so if I can keep that in mind as I go into tomorrow, perhaps it will help.
Now I just need to be able to sleep. I took an Advil PM... I hope it kicks in soon -- the last thing I need is to be tired on top of anxious.
It really brings me down to know that I've completely derailed any chance at continuing my education. I wasn't ready for university, I was pushed into it by societal and familial pressures. I didn't have the maturity necessary, I was depressed, my grades dropped, I made no plans for my future.
My grades are far too low to pursue any Master's, I don't reach the minimum to apply. My degree is worthless, my family have put me down countless times for my situation and I feel like a failure. I had been thinking and decided that I wanted to pursue some sort of social work, to spend my time helping people. Unfortunately I have found a suitable career path far too late; those doors have closed on me. I wish I had taken more time to decide what I wanted to do, before I destroyed my academic record and wasted time and money going down a dead-end path. I am angry at my parents for their pressuring me, and I hate myself for being too stupid, weak, and immature to make my own decisions.
Now I am in a spot where I cannot move forward. My only option is to completely restart my entire post-secondary education, which is a difficult path to begin pursuing itself, while taking on more debt and using up more time. Job prospects are scarce, and I feel awful.
I cannot speak to anyone about it, no one would understand, most would minimize my problems by citing my age, or some nonsense about how I "can do anything I want", opportunity, blah blah.
Stemming off my last blog entry, I ran into an extremely toxic person on a different forum. Her poison seeped into me for a full day, I was enraged about her rude, vicious and obnoxious behavior towards me, and it was a GREAT reminder for me that I am avoiding these types of people like the plague. She even wrote a poem about me, which I had to report. It has yet to be removed, but I am sure it will be soon.
Toxic people are awful people. At the heart of it, they're miserable --- however, a lot of people are miserable, yet don't take it out on other people. Toxic people make everyone else miserable too. They spread their poison onto others. EW. I want to slap them and call them haters. They are the haters in life. They hate other people because at the root of it is envy, inferiority and insecurity. It's disgusting behavior though, and it makes me seriously ill.
I've taken deliberate steps to eliminate such people from my life, including toxic ex boyfriends. Don't need 'em!!!!
End of rant.
My depression has lifted and I've improved greatly over the past few months. I got my family off my back, took another step towards my independence, and took back control of my life. I took steps out of my comfort zone and my body image has improved.
Unfortunately I still deal with the shame I carry from my past experiences. I am still very much ashamed of the awful joke of a 'relationship' I was in several years ago. I am still afflicted by the sting of public humiliation I suffered, the subsequent psychological damage of the abuse, and the strong sentiments of my unworthiness of romantic affection in the future. I feel that after what I had subjected myself to, the low standards I accepted, I do not deserve a good woman.
What kind of decent woman would want a tainted individual like me? All I bring to the table is insecurity, lack of confidence, an aversion to intimacy, inexperience, and the risk of public embarrassment by association with me (I fear that potential partners will learn about my past from someone else).
I have made countless poor choices over the course of my life so far, and I refuse to believe that others have made choices as bad as mine. I am not in the norm, nor am I in good company. I have fallen several rungs down the ladder, and I was never very high up to begin with. At most, others my age may drink a bit too much, stay in a slightly verbally abuse relationship a bit too long, spend a bit too much outside of their means, or neglect their health to some small degree. But very few make the consistently foolish decisions that I've made.
Despite my reduced time spent ruminating, I still feel very much inferior to others my age, and I cannot compare to them at all. I am not much to behold, nor am I someone I'd have aspired to be. I believe this will be my lived experience: spending the rest of my life paying penance for my sins in my youth.
The wind is howling through the trees and my ears. I smell it like a bee smells the Lavender, and I am afraid it will take me away like seeds of the Dandelion.
Only the seeds land on infertile soil.
They die as my inner hurricane rushes through, breathing its hate into all of my thoughts.
No control. Just chaos.
That voice constantly tells me things, as the memories gust through common sense. The things no one would understand.
But I do.
And I act accordingly. Hurting, hurting. Wilting. Dying.
Fly Dorothy, fly.