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
Self-harm. Self-mutilation. Small words, big stigma. I do it. Adults do it too. Nobody just talks about it. The stigma is so strong it's something I can't tell my psychologist or doctor. I think I should tell but I am too embarrased by it. I am not some 13-year-old kid. I've got a son of that age. I am a woman in my thirties. Mother of three. Succeeded in many things.
I am also a cutter.
What's your trigger? My trigger was anxiety. I was in so deep mental pain that I needed to transform it into physical pain. Some feelings were too much to tolerate. One cut here, one cut there. I was hooked. Endorphine rush. Instant relief.
I've gotten rid of the habbit between my depressive episodes. My anxiety levels are tolerable and I don't have any feelings, whatsoever. I am numb. And that is probably the main reason I am doing it now. I want to feel something. Anything. So I hurt myself. I also feel like my pretty outside is not matching the ugly inside so I have to balance.
Psysical self-harm is one part of the story. There is other ways too. Like skipping meals. I am not eating healthy on purpose. I am skipping breakfast and lunch. I eat dinner and lots of coffee. Other meals I skip because I don't care. Overdosing belongs to same category than neglecting self-care. Taking little extra before going to bed. I like the benzo high. For a moment everything feels tolerable. Dizzy head is better than clear mind. Because I just don't care.
Hey, someone pointed out to me that I've been blogging all about my happiness right now. I realize that this may rub some people the wrong way --- those on here who are struggling and having a hard go of it. I want people to know that I've struggled a LOT in my life, for most of my life. I've had on and off depressive episodes, I've had complete breakdowns and have been hospitalized twice in a psychiatric ward. I've been through many abusive relationships and I've been abused by multiple bosses. I've been unemployed several times -- once for three years. I've been in between jobs, not knowing what I was doing or what I wanted. I've lost jobs. I've lost people in my life. I was bullied as a kid. I've been through SO much, and you know what? I worked HARD to fight through all of it, breaking down many times in the interim, but still fighting through it to make it to the other side. I've been suicidal, sometimes for months on end, and I've even attempted two or three times before in my life. So yes, I can most certainly relate to struggles, and to many people on here who struggle in life.
I did create a public blog last year on how to be happy. And that is a large part of how I turned my own life around. I also learned through therapy how to manage and break through my issues and how to cope. I've been in and out of therapy throughout my whole life. I've gained a lot out of therapy and believe that it's absolutely necessary when dealing with life struggles on top of mental health issues. I've fought my battles, and I've overcome them. I've lost and I've gained. I've dealt with depression, PTSD, major anxiety and voices. I am still on meds.
However, today I am the happiest I've ever been, but that has not arrived without many battle scars and bruises and with a LOT of personal effort and work. It DOES take work to overcome issues. It takes HARD work. And it takes therapy. It's not easy. But I've done it and have been there, and so can anyone who is struggling. I feel I faced more challenges than most average people... not on here, but most average IRL people. Everyone around me IRL was always like, what the hell is going on? You seem to face one challenge and struggle after another after another! My happiness today is also largely because I am finally in a non-abusive relationship for once as well.
Anyways, I just wanted it to be known how much I've actually been through. I most certainly do not mean to throw my happiness in anyone's face. I am just writing about it because I am astounded by how much things HAVE turned around, all for the better, and I hope that it somehow may rub off on people and inspire them to keep fighting the good battle to make it through. Happiness is well worth the fight, I can tell you that.
So I thought if I cannot make myself happy, despite half-hearted recent attempts at exactly this, then why not make others happy. And why not do this with American money.
So I hatched a bold and brilliantly simple plan to relieve, I dunno, Whomever Inc. of their zillion, billion, squllion dollar lottery and donate .... let's see.... absolutely all of it to the People's Revolutionary Army of Puerto Rico.
It's a glitch that such an organisation doesn't quite yet exist but one never knows. They might want fun things like ballot boxes or at least the imprimatur of their own sovereignty to confirm or deny and respond to natural disasters.
Now this will disappoint subscribers to the theory that happiness is strictly the purview of cheap, Canadian meds but Hope is only hopeful. Empathy, however, leaves no stone unturned,
The other glitch is that I didn't buy a ticket. This could be my fault. I think I'm a bit squeamish about gambling when it doesn't involve a. thoroughbreds and b. large chunks of my absent husband's money. Not everything is unrestrained, you know.
Speaking of both those things, the mightiest and supreme-est and bestest ever thoroughbred in all the universes will win her 4th straight Cox Plate on Saturday. It was very kind of Alex to present me with a shimmering cherry red frock to celebrate this awesome occasion.
Must acquaint him with the true extent of his largesse when he finally, ****ing gets home.
Oh well, it was better than listing his most beloved and highly prized car on Ebay just for a laugh. That would not be leaving him alone to do what he needs to do and come home and etc.
Today I felt a very potent and noticeable sense of deep inner peace like I've never experienced. I just felt that AHA moment of WOW, I am really at peace and everything in my life has fallen together. It's the most extraordinary feeling in the world! I feel very content and satisfied. I have only work woes to complain about periodically, and I'd love to win the lottery, quit my job and travel the world, but aside from that, I have zero complaints. It is the most satisfying feeling after years of hell. I think I am floating on air and clouds.... ahhhh..... so delightful.
I frequently ask myself why I even bother to try. No matter what decision I make, it will be wrong. Almost 60 years of evidence points to that inescapable conclusion. I phukk up, repeatedly and endlessly. I had two decisions boomerang on me at work this morning. One right after the other. Both are serious and both place me in trouble.
I took this position 8 years ago based on the experience of the person who was in it before me. It was a piece of cake for her. She rarely had to make decisions and if she did, they didn't result in the kind of grief I'm facing. The workload here has increased exponentially but the bean counters have not increased staffing at all. In fact, I had a position robbed from my unit earlier this year.
At what point does a person bail out and accept the consequences? I owe a massive amount of $$$ to my ex every month, coming out of the divorce 4 years ago. I'm supposed to keep forking over this monthly pot of money until I'm 65. That's 6.5 years away. I can't make it that long. I'm not sure I can make it to the end of the day.
Hey God - Tell me what the hell is going on, Seems like all the good shits gone, It keep on getting harder hanging on.
All the good shits definitely gone. I had a friend over but I didn't enjoy. I felt nothing. The last few days have been slightly better. Or could be worse for I've stopped crying and become numb. Hard to tell yet. I want to cut more too. I want the outside look as ugly and hurt as the inside. Does that make sense? My life is ugly. There is no beauty in sadness or melancholy. There is no beauty or dignity in death.
Hey God, there's nights you know I want to scream, These days you're even hard to believe, I know how busy you must be, but Hey God... Do you ever think about me.
Does He ever think about me? Does He even exist? My struggle is too much for one person. What's the point? Where is my prize? I've suffered 20 years. What if the next 20 years will be the same? What's the point trying if there is no hope of change? I can't see future, I can't see next day.
I don't have real faith in God. Sometimes I wish I did. I wish all my struggle had a purpose. That this pain and hell on Earth serve the purpose. Life is random. Unlikely and random and it gives me great comfort to know there's a way out. No life after, no awareness. Eternity. Nothing after. I can't be certain of each and other. Tricky part is to have enough faith.
I'd get down on my knees, I'm going to try this thing your way.
Do you see me struggling? Do you see me broken? Sometimes my illness threaten to crush me and my pain threatens to suffocate me.
You are the God that parts waters and splits mountins. I know that you can do anything. Give me patience, endurance, perseverance and faith to beat my illness again and again withouth giving up.
Please forgive me the times I try to figure this life out on my own and take my life into my own hands.
God, I need a victory from this battle of my mind that wants to k i l l me. At least hear me and give me some hope. Amen.
Quotes are lyrics from my favorite artist Bon Jovi. Thank you for writing this song.
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.
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.)