Tag Archives: cement

restless

I can’t pay attention to anything today. I’m not interested in anything (even Criminal Minds ::gasp!::).

My panic hit high early on in the morning. I started feeling trapped, but nothing felt like something I could do. I was frantically pacing, but only in my head (if you were to look at me though, you would have had no idea how incredibly anxious I was). I finally convinced myself to go out to the book store. I grabbed a coffee, but didn’t sit there long enough to finish it. I then tried shopping at least for necessities, but I got very bored very fast. I didn’t want to be anywhere. I rushed through the grocery store and missed picking up just about everything…

I got home, but then was bored super-fast. I didn’t want to go out, but I didn’t want to be in the house either. Needed to finish TL’s painting (well, needed to frame it properly). Ran out to grab some more stuff, but I don’t have the patience to finish it properly. I was hoping to get the piece to TL tomorrow, but it’s not looking good at this moment…

Still can’t pay attention to anything. My head is starting to hurt. I still don’t want to pay attention to anything. Haven’t been able to follow this CM episode. I’m pretty sure I’m not doing well with this blog post.

Tomorrow’s going to be a full day. I see TL in early afternoon, help my friend pack more, then head over to the journal class. I hope tomorrow’s more settled than today. I hope my anxiety isn’t as high… and I hope I can figure out what the heck to do with TL’s painting. I want to frame it properly and give it to her, but I’m not sure it will be done in time. I definitely want it out of the house. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to give it to her earlier today. I don’t know why I didn’t want to give it to her, but I suddenly thought it was very stupid. I was guessing she would hate it. I still think she will hate it, or refuse it. I’m not sure why, but I do… :/

My head is such a mess, and mom keeps asking how I’m doing. I don’t know how to tell her the extent of the mess (or anyone really). I’m not sure I want to tell anyone the extent of it. It’s hard to describe when I don’t even fully know what’s going on or how bad it is. I just know my head feels like a mixture of cement and cotton, and I’m really tired.

This episode is almost over. Think I’m calling it an early night. Earliest night in the past month…

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Remembering to breathe

Trying to not let the tension in the air get to me.  It’s difficult.  I forgot how negative of an environment this was… she’s always angry at something,  and the bad energy rubs off on everyone. Just have to remember to breathe.  It’s temporary and it will all be for the better.  There is a huge adjustment.  It doesn’t help that the wife is struggling with this change. Just keep breathing…


goodbyes suck.

she was so nice.  by nice I mean kind.  she gave me a belated card.  I will not let that go.  she got teary when we started, when we addressed this being our last session… I bumbled on through topics, avoiding talking about anything meaningful for very long…  I touched lightly on the fears that have pushed back into my head.  I flitted around the stress of not having the money to move.  I did not voice the memories that have floated up.  I did not acknowledge the thoughts that skimmed across the surface of my mind.  I refused to go too deep into those waters because I knew I only had an hour left in person with her for quite some time.  I wanted to say all this, but it got tangled on my tongue and never made it to my lips.

she refuted the irrational fears I managed to speak.  she reassured me that I will not be forgotten.  she offered a spot to come back to… then she asked a difficult question: what will you do there without therapy?  my brain drew a blank.  I smiled coyly and answered: breathe… then I giggled nervously.  she offered that I could call her if I needed.  I joked that I would be calling her every hour if I did decide to call my dad to help us get down there…  she smiled, then shook her head: “how is that a good idea?” (referring to calling my dad)  I had no answer other than: “at least we would get down there”  she then reminded me that getting down there would be of no use if I proceeded to fall apart after the drive… ok.  so calling dad and sacrificing my sanity is not a good option.  “it’s an okay last resort, but why would you pick that option if you had others to choose from?”  I don’t really feel like there are other options.

at the end of the session, I awkwardly tried to stand, but my body felt glued to the chair.  I was willing myself to shift my weight to my feet, but I was having a very difficult time convincing my muscles to move.  I was trying hard not to cry.  finally I managed to stand, then came the battle to move my feet to the door… I flailed around mentally, and found some random topics to get myself distracted enough to shuffle along.  just then, she touched my arm and gave me a hug.  it took every fiber of my being to not burst out in tears at that moment.  someone actually cares and I believe she is genuine… and she has no other reason my brain can come up with for “having” to care, she just does.  she can’t retire in the time I am gone… she has to be around to come back to.  she didn’t run when she saw my worst.  she believed (without any real evidence) that there was a real person somewhere deep down inside of that mess that presented at her office.  she believed in me when I didn’t think anyone would, and she trusted me to make my own calls to keep myself safe (despite the fact that I didn’t always manage to do so, she kept giving me the benefit of the doubt that this time, I will reach out).  she didn’t try to convince me that I was one diagnosis or another.  and she was ok with different approaches to therapy and treatment when the traditional therapy wasn’t doing the trick.   please still be here when i get back…

now I have to contact that new therapist.  only I don’t have insurance for a month after getting there.  it’s hard to find someone who will do a sliding scale and bill me for later…

my heart is just a little broken over this “extended vacation”


It’s all coming back to me now…

All the insecurities and fears that i had managed to put in neat little boxes in the back of my mental closet have found their escape routes and made it to the forefront of my brain.  Loss is hard, and there are a ton coming up right now with this move. I woke up with an immense headache.  I’m secretly hoping we win at least some of the money from this powerball drawing, at least enough to get us safely to our destination…

But first there are goodbyes… this one will be really hard… I’m sitting waiting for my therapy appointment. I have a lot of crap around having to change therapists… this time will be no different 😦


Thankful

I am thankful for everyone and everything in my life: my wife, friends, family, critters; that i have a roof over my head and a car to drive; that I can wake up and walk… freely.  That i have the ability to make money and struggle to support myself and my family… the ability to up and move to help make life better. They make it meaningful and loving. They make me see the good in life…

I am also thankful for the things I don’t have in my life: the constant, looming cloud that was present for so many years; the people that have left and taught me many valuable lessons… the screaming taunts of my addictions.  These are things that have been so prominent in the past, but today they are short struggles that can be more easily overcome…

While I still believe that people should have the freedom to end their lives when they wish, I am glad mine did not end when I tried…  life is still difficult at times, but there is so much happiness also…  if you read this love, thank you for sticking by me and not giving up. You are truely a wonderful person, and I’m so glad we met… ♥


building walls

i can feel them going up. my brain is getting fuzzy and heavy. i know i’m trying to protect myself from the blackness… i’m not consciously doing it, but it’s a gut-level reaction that has kept me going all these years. when I did give in and fight the urge, it resulted in almost 2 years of steady hospitalizations and incredible pain that few can imagine.

my brain literally feels heavy and wet. yes. i can feel it in my head. or at least, that’s what I imagine it to feel like. it’s heavy and drowning, but the walls are going up. like wet cement, it’s not an ache, but a weight. it’s the walls going up. i don’t really know how else to explain it. today has been spent being extremely tired and drained. I slept through most of it, but not as an escape, simply for the reason that I could not keep my eyes open. i was TIRED. It’s not the depression, it the anti-depression – that which keeps me on the light side of things. it hides the thick, comfortable blackness from sight. it keeps me together. it’s the dissociation manifesting in a physical sensation.

and it’s gone now… the gate’s down. I’ve lost what my point was for this post, and i don’t know what else to write. sorry.