Wanting to Walk Away

I had to go to Urgent Care last week, where their solution was to charge me $200, for a 2-minute consultation with a doctor telling me my symptoms were just a little bit of anxiety (which I was upfront about on the questionnaire anyways) and to take this pill. Oh and have a note for the next day for work as well. The pill is a damn sedative. I can’t function with it, so I can’t take it. The doctor also recommended I go to one of the local Mental Health clinics, that caters to those with “my kinds of problems” to get help. Except there’s actually a problem with that. They’re open during the hours I work. So because I’m still trying to work so I can at least look like a productive member of society I can’t get any kind of help. Because by the time my days off come around, it’s the end of the week and there’s generally not anything available.

On top of those fun issues, it feels like I’ve had a couple of cysts on my ovaries burst. There’s nothing they could do for it even if I were to have gone to a doctor but it’s still pretty painful to deal with on its own. That also doesn’t count in the light-sensitive migraine I’ve had for I don’t know how many days, but I’ve only said something about the last two. To be honest that’s the worst part of all of it. Because I’ve been getting more migraines it means I will ultimately have to change my birth control (aka the one medicine that I’m on that I willingly continue to get because I know my life without it is short and even more painful than it already is.) I’m not looking forward to any of it, but at the same time, something has to give at some point soon.

I want to be positive. I want to get back into baking, cooking, sewing, and coding and just not being a miserable pile of flesh… I’ve come up with recipes I want to try to perfect, I want to have that joy of just creating. But I can’t do that if I work my 40+ hours, take care of the basic things that need to be done and actually do my share of things around the house.

Hence, why sometimes when things get to be too much, I just want to walk away from everything. Leave my life, my friends, my family, my history and my problems, and just ignore it all. I know it’s not a smart choice, but on nights like tonight, it feels like the only one. But instead of doing that, I’ll go take some more medicine that doesn’t help a lot, try to sleep and get up and fight my way through the pain no matter what tomorrow. Because I have to suck it up and deal with it, regardless of how I actually feel.

Here’s hoping sleep comes quickly, and the pain fades just a little.

 

“Just because
you feel lost
doesn’t mean
that you are.
Sometimes you
just have to relax,
breathe deep,
and trust the path
you’re on.”
― Lalah Delia

Nothingness and Emptiness

After working, I’ve been lax in a lot of things. Mostly because the constant fatigue and pain I’m seemingly in keep me from focusing on doing things and keep me from actually doing them. But I keep trying. I’m slow to fix dinners, I’m slow to clean up messes which leads to frustration from my friend and roommate.

I’m even slower in taking care of myself.

I’m still waiting, most likely until April, for insurance to kick in so I can begin to get myself sorted out again. I’ve felt low, my hands shake more than they have in the last couple of years, and well I feel empty. I don’t get joy out of many things at this time. I love to cook, can’t bring myself to do it out of fear for cutting my fingers when my hands shake and because I don’t have the strength or will power to do it. I get some sleep, but it never seems like enough and then I add a little less to it so I can carve out time in the day or night to try to find myself.

But I’ll keep pressing on.  Brighter days have to be ahead, because after so long in the nothingness of my mind… I worry that I’m starting to lose sight of that. I have to find a way to change something in myself so that I don’t keep repeating this awful vicious cycle. I know doctors and medicine will help, I just have to make it long enough that I can see one to get moving forward again.

“People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”

-Carl Jung, Psychology and Alchemy

Things Pile Up

My to-do lists keep on growing. I’m failing at getting everything done, but I get some of the important things done, like take medicine, cook, get things ready for when my work assignment starts. But the smaller ones, things like finding a doctor (who doesn’t charge an arm and a leg while I wait for insurance to start), find things to help take the physical pain I feel in every joint of my body away, and just living, get tossed to the wayside.

By the time I get done doing the important things, I don’t have the energy to do the little things. I know some of those little things don’t seem small. Most people would be panicking not to have a doctor or have all the medications they need to keep living. But I’ve always taken life one day, one problem at a time.

I don’t have a magical answer, no shiny fantastic way to say everything will turn out perfect and just the way you wanted… I can’t say that because I know it’s not realistic. I also know living in a downward spiral constantly isn’t realistic either. Eventually, you hit rock bottom. I’ve hit what I thought was my rock bottom many times… Today though? I honestly feel the lowest I’ve felt in a long time. 90ish days from now, when meds are adjusted appropriately I’ll be fine and on the upswing. Until then? I’m just the selfish bitch who just wishes people would cut me a little slack while my emotions and feelings play hacky-sack with my brain, while the nerve-endings in most of my body feel like they’re on fire.

Tomorrow’s a new day, maybe the pain won’t be so bad and the mental fatigue won’t be so bad either. Even if it is, I have a to-do list to accomplish things off of, regardless of how I feel.

Lists and Calendars

I try my best to stay organized. I write things down in my notebook, add them to my various calendars (both online and physical ones), I almost obsessively try to keep track of everything going on in my life. I write little blurbs about how I felt that day, how my mood and how my depression was, as well as just keep a journal to sort out feelings. I always do pretty well about this at the beginning of the year. I carry my bullet journal and my planner around with me almost everywhere, I have my phone if I don’t have either of those.

But still, by the time Late March/Early April comes around, I almost always abandon it. I think a lot of that has to do with how I feel in the Springtime as well as still grieving and dealing with my own emotions. That time of year is when my life has always seemed to turn upside down. This year though, I’m sticking through it. No matter what, no matter how I feel, I have to keep moving forward. This year will be different.

It’s already different in a few different ways, I’m coping with my mental illnesses. I’m trying to do more than just survive. I know my limitations and I’m not as afraid to ask for help as I once was. And sometimes all it takes is that little shift of perspective. From being so focused on what is wrong, to seeing that I can still do things it just takes me a little longer with some modifications but it still gets done.

There’s still a long way for me to go this year in terms of a lot of things. At 10 days in though, I’m more positive than I have been in so long. Things are looking up, I just can’t let myself get bogged down in the small things that go wrong, because the slightly larger thing is just around the corner.

 

End of the Year

We’re rapidly approaching the end of 2018, and preparing for the beginning of 2019. I’m ready for the new year to start. It’s a symbol of renewal and hope for me. 2018 hasn’t shaped up quite like I had envisioned. I haven’t found another job yet, I haven’t been able to get any kind of medical or mental health care, but all of that is okay. Next week is a completely new start. I’m still in Illinois, but working on plans to move further east. It may not be in 2019, or even 2020, but it’s something to work towards and plan for.

Despite how grim and hopeless I have felt about things the last couple of months, things are getting better. I’m more secure in where I’m living. I’m not afraid that I’m going to be kicked out at moments notice again. I have a very part-time job for most of January, I have another interview next week, and have many other applications out for work that I feel capable of doing. I’m making strides on working on myself. I’m trying not to be as negative about myself, I’m doing my best to accept that people who want to be around me want to do so because they see something I don’t. I am doing little things to help myself with my depression and my anxiety, I’m getting outside and moving around, I’m doing things that I truly enjoy doing. For instance, I baked bread and enjoyed it for the first time in 6 months, and I’m looking forward to doing it again in a couple of days. I am truly enjoying rediscovering some of the things I enjoyed in the past.

Once the new year starts, and I get back from taking care of some things with my mom, I’m intending to go to the gym and work out as well as work. I’m also hoping to get things started for my crafts again so that I can try to earn some money that way as well, and I want to post more about that and what I’m working on once I restart that endeavor. Hopefully, my insurance will come through one way or the other and I can get things going there too.

Ultimately, 2018, while it hasn’t been that great it was okay. I’ve survived another year, my divorce was finalized and I’ve lived in 3 different states. My health and mental health have taken a turn for the worse, but I’m still around and working on things the best I can, and that’s enough for me for now.

Even if 2019 doesn’t live up to my lofty expectations, I will survive and keep moving forward.

Happy New Year.

crazy-nana-585498-unsplash
Photo by Crazy nana on Unsplash

 

When The Pain Becomes Too Much

What do you do when the physical or mental pain you feel becomes too much to handle? Do you cry it out, yell, or scream? Or do you get nervously quiet, just silently watching and waiting?

I know I tend to get very quiet, and very sullen when my physical pain (that a lot of doctors just dismiss) gets high. I know the pain scale from 1-10 is ridiculous. My 5 could be someone else’s 8, or vice-versa. And no matter what, even if there’s no request for pain meds, the first thing they’re trying is the ibuprofen or acetaminophen that I’ve already been taking religiously for days trying to stamp the pain out.

My depression makes my pain worse at times. It’s a physical symptom for a mental problem. I had a therapist that made sure to remind me that the physical symptoms I have shouldn’t be ignored just because I’m trying to take care of things with her. I still needed to go to the doctor (and be ignored) and tell them what was going on and see if there were solutions to make it easier to deal with. Their solutions were all the things I had already been trying for years. So years later, I’m still in the same predicament, with even worse mental health than I had then.

Where does that leave me for now? In a lot of pain, that I can’t get under control. My friend/roommate doesn’t always see that I’m in pain when I get a random hug from them or when I have to go up and down the flight of stairs to take care of things in the basement. No one really sees the tears I cry at night, waiting for sleep to take over so I can ignore pain at least for a few minutes. No one also sees the tears I cry when I wake up, realizing my body is still not cooperating and I have no choice but get up and move. I’m hoping my new insurance will kick in soon, and that I’ll be able to do something…anything to get at least a little of this taken care of. To get my own quality of life to a better state than it is in now.

That little shred of hope is what I cling to tonight, as I sit at my computer crying silently from the pain.

It’s Been A Few Days…

So it’s been about 2 weeks since I’ve actually sat down to write or really reflect on a lot of things. I’m struggling mentally and physically. Mentally my depression and anxiety are at the worst they’ve been in quite a long time, and it doesn’t help that any work I keep trying to get either falls through or just isn’t worth the expense of me doing it. Physically, I’m a wreck. I’m in pain all of the time, I’m fatigued and I have joint pain when there’s no reason for me to.

All of it boils down to, yeah I’m alive but it’s a struggle to continue. I continue to try to find positives, sometimes I do other times I find something I think might be positive for others to just shoot it down. But I try and that’s what counts. So for the next few days, I’m going to keep trying to find the positives and keep moving forward. And hopefully, it’ll be enough for me to begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

 

On the edge

I feel like I’m about to go back into another mental crisis. I get this way any time I spend any length of time around my mom, and it’s going to be a little longer still before I leave. My anxiety ramps up, she makes me worried about things that I have no business being worried about. My depression rears it’s head, making me more withdrawn, more down and just not wanting to do anything that I should or need to be doing.

Then on top of this, she makes lists of things I’m supposed to do for her. And not basic everyday things, because I’m already doing those, but things like getting every piece of bedding in the entire place washed, clean cupboards out and find somewhere to get rid of things at, make extra food to freeze for when I do finally get to leave- with the promise of if I don’t then she just doesn’t know if or what she’ll actually eat then. This is why I hate the guilt I feel, and the resentment I feel towards her. These are perfectly normal things for an elderly parent to ask of their child…. except for the fact that she’s not that elderly, or that sickly at this point… and it’s just she wants me to go back to taking care of her and everything else for her like I have so many other times.

My mental health will not let me do that. I am finally at a point in my life where I have to put myself and my well-being first. And I’m trying. She just doesn’t help or let me do the things I should be doing as a damn 30something-year-old adult. If I’m in town, she gets upset and hurt if I go spend time with the couple of friends I have around still, or if I go do something by myself that has no benefit for her.

I know me ranting all of this makes me sound like a selfish, petulant child, but it’s not my job to take care of her like this. Yes, she’s my mother. But she abused me mentally, verbally, and physically growing up. She still tries to get into my head and is verbally abusive still, even though I have taken steps to protect myself. I just have to wait this out, then I can go back to just messaging and occasional phone calls with trips here every once in a while instead of so often. I need that peace and serenity back in my life.

At least the next couple of days I get to do some Christmas decorating for the building she lives in. That’s something I like to do and can tune others out while I do it.

Thanksgiving

As I sit here with my mom, a turkey cooking in the oven, and all the sides ready to go in the oven soon, I’m left to reflect. Reflect on the last few years, reflect on times spent with family and friends and left to reflect on how my attitude and issues have weighed on myself and others. Yes, despite the almost constant state of depression and anxiety I’ve been in recently, there are still things to be thankful for.

I’m thankful for my friends. The very few of them that I do have and can count on. They bring me happiness, keep me grounded and let me know that it’s okay to be down, as long as we pick ourselves back up. There have been some ups and downs with all of them this last year, most significantly my best friend. I’m thankful for his patience, his kindness, and that we’ve both come out of a pretty dark place with a better understanding of each other and our friendship than we’ve had in a while.

My family, while mostly small and not people I put myself around frequently, I know there are some of them I can count on. When my mom got sick a couple of months ago, there were a few who reached out and few who helped. I’m grateful that they could when I could not get away to help.

There are so many other small things that I’m thankful for- rainy days, snow, the comfort of being in a warm house, not starving and mostly the ability to get my health- both mental and physical, back to some semblance of normal. I may never be what I once was, but I can get healthy, take care of the issues I have, and nurture the strength I have inside.

I hope everyone has a good Thanksgiving and start to the holiday season.