It’s been about a week since I have posted. I can only say that I have been avoiding writing anything down for fear of disturbing the fragile peace I am wadding in. I can’t even say wadding in it, I have my toes in the edge of the surf of peace. In therapy yesterday I admitted that I wasn’t writing because I am afraid to not only disturb said peace, but that I won’t find the comfort and relief I normally feel after my fingers have finished flying over the keys. I now realize that sometimes you have to do things, even when you don’t want to in an effort to get back to normal. I have admitted out loud to the internet, to a select small group of people the true depth of my mental illness, and the appointment is scheduled with the psychiatrist to get additional help, but I can’t shake the feeling that I am not being real, honest or authentic because I am choosing not to tell everyone in my family. I can’t explain how maddening it is to struggle with myself on this. I thrive in an honest environment, but to be this honest, raw and open is just not something I can do yet, I fear more than the words I will speak.

Today is a even day, even Steven. I feel level, not up or down, just a steady hand. I am making myself do things, moves and counter moves, to make sure that I don’t fall off the edge of this and end up in the dark again. Like I went and got my hair cut last night, but it’s so short I have to get up in the morning, style it, and put on some makeup so I don’t look hideous. And wearing a sweatshirt instead of a blouse won’t work with this hair, so I am going to try to fashion show at night to find things that are comfortable and cool looking. Hanging it all up so I don’t have the excuse of nothings clean and grabbing my armor(hooded sweatshirt). I am leaving my makeup on the counter, so I don’t have to look for it in the morning. Little things, trying to keep the momentum.

I wonder how many people who read this blog feel like I do. I assume some do because I have followers, or maybe you just like the words I am writing down. Either way I appreciate you in ways I could never express. Good luck today. You are doing great, even when you don’t feel great.

small victory

So today I woke as I usually do, hurried and running late. But I got ready to leave the house and realized that the dread that has been sitting in my chest for the last few months has dissipated. Yay, small victory. I am hoping its the medication that I was switched to has finally started to work. Or maybe its that the worst of this has passed, but either way, today there is hope again for a better tomorrow.

Sometimes I wish that what I wrote was funny, that people got joy from reading my posts, but I think I will happily accept hope instead. So here’s to hoping you find some peace today, I am going to enjoy today with a nugget of hesitance, but I will try all the same.

My History

I realized the other day what a tremendous actor I am. I have spent years pretending to be fine, faking that I am fine and succeeding for most of my life. People around me have questioned when my struggle with depression began, wanting to help me by focusing the blame on incidents or situations rather then the chemical imbalance and my lack of ability to handle stress. It’s an understandable notion as I tried for a lot of years to be “okay”. In the last 3 years approximately I have been on my journey to peace and it has caused a lot of friction, conversations and fights within my family. So today’s post is dedicated to my history, not the minutia of my life, but the milestones  of discovery that have lead me to therapy, medication and sometimes lead me deeper down the rabbit hole.

According to my Mom and Grandma I was always a sensitive child, easily hurt and super protective of my little sister. I have memories of that. I have memories of crying when I thought my stuffed animals feelings were hurt, or wishing I was stronger so I didn’t feel so scared. That was when I was very young. Don’t get me wrong, I had an awesome childhood and my memories of that time are filled with warmth, and fun and I was not aware then that there was anything off, I thought everyone apologized to objects, dolls and toys when they got left behind.

When I went to junior high I made my first “true” friends. These were the first bonds with people outside my family that I thought were deep and important. There were soaring highs and deep lows. I “fell in love” with a boy and he dumped me for my best friend, I didn’t react well. Within 3 months of that incident I had written a suicide letter and intended to end my life. I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong, I mean seriously, I “loved” him, but in reality he was a 14 year old boy and I was a 13 year old girl. But that desire to be loved by someone who didn’t “have too” love me was tremendous and very desirable.

I went to counseling for awhile and didn’t get much out of it, except that my parents loved me dearly and were scared for me. Over the next few years, as in throughout high school there were many moments that I contemplated taking my life, when I was floundering in school, or failing in relationships with people and I felt my worth was nothing. Usually my family saved me, they didn’t know it, because I didn’t say it out loud but somehow they always did something to register in my mind that I had value.  After high school I let my relationships with my best friends slip away, it was easier then pretending to be fine anymore. I threw myself into work and college life taking jobs that allowed me to be anyone I wanted. I chose to shorten my name and I was fun, I was a party girl and people loved to be around me. I still cried at night, but I kept that to myself. It was a great few years of enjoying life, all the stress I had happen to me was gone when I stepped out the back door at work.

Eventually I grew ambitious, and took jobs with more responsibility but usually within about a year I had started to mishandle the job, and I would see it as failure. I would spiral after each self sabotage. Around this time I met my husband, and there were many nights I scared him half to death with my panic attacks and crying fits. But it took me sabotaging my friendships, pushing my husband to his breaking point and having my family comment on the changes they saw in me to seek help.

The moral of all of this I guess is that you never know. People who have known me for years still say they don’t get it. Believe me I don’t get it either. I look at my family and think why can’t I be more like them. Try to remember to be kind to others, and yourself. Try truth as well, because secrets don’t help, in fact they will hinder your recovery, I should know.

There you have it, my history in a nut shell, which serves no purpose other than to let you know that there is a past, I didn’t wake up one day and discover I was chemically imbalanced. Nor will I wake tomorrow and be just like everyone else. This is a long road I travel.

Ain’t no shame in this game

I keep stepping outside of my box. For so long I convinced myself that I will have a bad time if I go out and do things I did when I was younger. I was to scared, too tired, to sad to be around people. Oh what I have missed. I am trying not to live in this regret I feel, but I do regret, and I am sad because I missed so much by not reaching out and asking for help sooner. I have damaged relationships, caused rifts and missed out on some kick butt times.

Last night we had a company outing, we went to an outdoor country concert. I am not a huge country fan, but Jacob and I had a good time. We had a good dinner, had a couple of drinks, and we came home tired and entertained. Last weekend I ventured to a drive-in theatre and spent some memorable hours with my friends and the kids. I even went to a bar last week and listened to a band. See these are all things I would not have done a few months ago.

Jacob would try, he would push and coax and beg to get me to do things. To call my friends, to get out of the house and do things that were fun, not just work or my volunteer stuff. I was so bogged down in my issues I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. I just can’t believe all I have missed.  The key now is to make sure I don’t over tax myself trying to make up for lost time. I can’t get those days back; I can only go forward from here. I can only try to repair the damage I have done, and hope that the relationships that are saved are better and solid for having gone through this.

So I guess I do have regrets, and the biggest one is thinking I would be weak if I asked for help. I needed the help; I need the medications and the unbiased ear that I speak to weekly. I also need my people to be aware of what is going on with me, and know that I am trying very hard and fighting for a new life for myself.  There is no shame in honesty, no shame in seeking a professionals help, no shame in needing to be balanced out by a little bit of medication. What I see in the mirror right now is a woman, who’s happier and more stable. I can’t believe that’s what I see.

7 days and counting

I have been taking the Adderall for 7 days now.

Here’s what I have discovered about it so far.

 I really have no appetite after I take it. Around 2-3 pm my stomach starts growling but my desire to eat is not there. Might not be a bad thing, I don’t know yet. I have to eat something right before taking it and I am trying to make sure it is loaded with protein.

 If I have a project, like cleaning or something that keeps me moving I don’t notice the hyper caffeine feeling, but if I am sitting at my desk I can tell I am on something.

 After 6 days of working hard, doing major projects and being very effective I crashed last night. I got home, made some dinner, ate a bit then decided to take a bath. I fell asleep in the tub. I know, not smart, thankfully I woke up, stumbled out of the tub and climbed into bed. That was at 7:30 pm. I slept until 8am, the time I am supposed to be at work. I don’t feel rested though. I think that might be the meds.

 The first few days I woke up very happy, and ready to go. The last 2 I have woke up sleepy and not happy. I get happy through out the day, and I would say overall I feel better. I am thinking I may need an adjustment to the dosage.

 I lose my train of thought a bit easier. I think it’s because my mind is racing right now. I am trying to get the words out so fast I forget how to say easy things. I have a pretty expansive vocabulary and I am having trouble grabbing onto simple phrases.

 Some of the positives are, of course my productivity. My house is in great shape right now and it’s only going to get better.  Overall I feel better, in that I am happier, more satisfied and my reaction to things seems more relaxed. I am a huge control freak and I found myself saying the other day while cleaning, “if it doesn’t get done, oh well”. Jacob looked at me totally shocked. I even paused and thought it was a bit weird, but not in a bad way. I can’t control everything.

My communication with people seems to have improved, in that I am making myself more available. I am reaching out and touching base with the people in my life, I am trying to be present. 

 I think this is a good experience for me so far, and my feeling good is the ultimate goal.

Day 3 & 4

I woke up Saturday morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Made the hubs and I some breakfast, took my meds and sat down to make my list. I decided to do some serious house work this weekend and I am a list maker. After about 5 minutes of list making I dug in and let me tell you what, Adderall + Mere = Productive. I cleaned parts of my house that I haven’t touched since we moved in. I was focused and not scattered. I started a project and completed it before moving on to the next. I got more done in 5 hours on Saturday than I have in 8 hour days in recent memory. Then some of my friends came over and we watched the Hunger Games and played some dominos. Oh yeah and I made 5 dzn pizza rolls from scratch and a cake in that time frame.

Sunday was much the same, Jacob took me out to breakfast and after fueling up I decided to tackle my bedroom. If you know me at all then you know my bedroom is a disaster area, and as far as history goes it takes me no less than 6 hours to find the floor and that is with numerous stops to look at things I have lost and found. I was über focused and Jacob was gone with his god-son so I was able to do so much. I cleaned walls, re-arranged all of the furniture, hung my new curtains, took my closet apart and put it back together. Moved probably 8 loads of laundry down stairs, and I washed all of my bedding. I can’t wait to paint, but I am going to steam clean my carpet first.

My dogs weren’t happy; they don’t like all the changes that are going on in our home right now. But I need to get a grip on my house. I am hoping to set myself up for maintenance not deep cleaning like I did this weekend. I think I have a few more intense days like I have just had to get my house in fighting shape for an appraisal this fall. I am hoping to refinance and make things easier on my husband and me and on our wallets. I know it will take some hard work, a bit of money but with me and my new focus I don’t see that being a problem.  I am looking forward to getting home today to tackle the mountain of laundry that I have in the basement. Here’s to another productive evening.

Day 2

Day 2. I ate breakfast this morning before taking my Adderall, waited until I got to work. It doesn’t seem as intense this morning, but I can tell I am on something. I am trying to remember to take deep breaths and to drink my water.

            I did some research yesterday, looked at forums and chats, and things of that nature from people who have ADD & ADHD to see what their various reactions to medication were. Lots of helpful hints, and encouragement, this is going to be a challenge though. To wait it out and see how I do when the medication starts to level out in my system.

            I didn’t eat yesterday, I mean I munched a bit at work but no breakfast, no lunch. By the time I got home I was peckish. But by 6pm I was starving, the medication was starting to wear off and I was starting to feel normal. I ate slowly, knowing it would be easy to cram it all in and have a sore stomach. I felt better after eating, but still wasn’t feeling 100% by 7pm.

I went out last night, to see one of my friends, my sister-in-law came with me. I haven’t put makeup on and gone out on a week night in a long time. I mean, I go out to meetings, and volunteer events but to go out and sit in a bar and have a drink and listen to some small band. I can’t tell you the last time I did that during the week. We hung out for a couple of hours. Had a good time and came home. I went to bed at like 1am, and woke up at 7, no problem. That is weird.

This is a weird journey, and I know that ultimately it will still be me at the end of it but in the last 3 months I am become this person that I really like. I am doing things, still usually for others, but some of them are for me, purely for the joy of being young and able. I am still walking on egg shells with some people, but I am learning some tools to not let the hurt get in. I will always be sensitive and emotional, but hopefully in the future I can pick and chose those who I let wound me, by protecting myself a bit, maybe not being so open with those who seek to harm my progress. Luckily I don’t know many of them. Luck for me I have a very supportive group of people who want to see me smile, and hate to see me cry.

I probably won’t post this weekend, I have a lot of plans. Fun plans, plans to be with people, which is another thing I haven’t wanted to do in a long time.

Here’s to weird journeys, and bright futures.