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Tilt A Whirl

9 Jan

Some days I think I have everything under control. I go to work, come home, do some laundry and dishes and get supper prepped. I then pick up the kids from school and start them on their chores and talk to them about their day. I feel like all is running smoothly. Then I have days like this.

Days like this happen more than the in control days. It seems like in control days happen rarely! I am constantly second guessing myself for everything, even when it comes to making supper. I am soooooooo over this shit, you have no idea! It feels like I am on a tilt a whirl ride. The constant motion, dizziness, lack of control, but then sometimes you have control on how fast you spin, but then you spin yourself too hard and end up feeling sick, then you just want the ride to end and get off, but you look over and see your kids or your friends having fun with what is going on and you don’t want to seem like a wuss, so you ride it out, pretending to have fun when you really want to have control and get off. ugh. Now I remember why I hate that ride! Now I know why life shakes me to the core!

Every day I think of how I am feeling, and every day I wonder if my feelings are reasonable or just something that I over process and end up making shit up in my head. Like, do I really have a headache? Or am I talking myself into it? Ha ha….I know it sounds really strange to you, for me to question a simple thing like a headache, but there is alot that goes with even having a headache…..my children are very loud while at home in their own environment and if I have a headache, I have to keep telling them to quiet down, or, I have to move to another room, which never works anyways because they follow wherever I am. So, now I have these feelings of being overreactive because I tell them to constantly keep it down. I am now, of course, a bad mother. My thoughts lead me into being a terrible person who just tells her kids to be quiet and can’t even take a moment to play with them. Yes, Yes, I know, my craziness runs deep! And I apologize to my husband all the time for being crazy!

At some point it has to stop though, right? It has to.

I want to lay in my bed. I want to binge watch netflix shows and colour in my colouring book and do sudoku puzzles. On the other hand, I want to organize the closet and sort out all of the craft supplies for my kids. I want to do crafts with them. I want to start making christmas gifts for next christmas. I want to go back to the gym. So, I end up on the computer looking up craft ideas to do with the kids and end up blogging. I refrain from the bed, even though my foot is throbbing and I could go for a nap! I don’t want to feel guilty for doing nothing. I watched movies pretty much all day with the kids yesterday. I made breakfast, lunch, supper and I did some laundry and dishes, but I really didn’t do much at all. I had a sinus headache, but still…..an awesome mom could have done more.

I sometimes hate to think what my husband really thinks. I work anywhere from 12-20 hours in a week, which is perfect for me right now…..being……um…….fragile? I guess that word works, but since owning a business and working for 50-80 hours per week for the last 10 years, I don’t want to work alot, I don’t want alot of responsibility. Anyways, how does he think? Does he think I am lazy and that I just fake my feelings and illnesses? Does he think I don’t do enough around the house? Or, are these just my anxieties and questions to myself? Do I project my feelings about myself onto others and in turn think that they think that way about me? Ha ha….hard to follow sentence? I hope you understand what I mean!

I want to visit with others, I want to see a little bit of who I used to be, galavanting all over and enjoying time with my friends and family. I want to. But I don’t. My brain is my enemy sometimes! My anxiety is my jail, and I don’t know when this sentence will be over. When I go to visit someone, the selfishness of my anxiety kicks in and I think only of how the other person is better than I. How, my friend, who has known me for years, might think that I am a sad excuse of what I used to be. How I am bigger and more rotund than I used to be, and that I am emotionally less stable than I used to be. I wonder the whole time, I wonder and I worry and when the visit is over, I am exhausted, relieved and still worried. I then worry whether I said anything stupid, or offensive, or if I was too loud or invasive. I feel like I cannot ever be myself. Like being myself is not good enough for anyone…..ever. I know, this sounds super extreme, but this is anxiety and depression in the most honest form I have to share.

For those of you who don’t have anxiety and depression, just think of a time when you were a little anxious or worried. Now, times that by ten, and include it in every thought you have for every day of your life. Now, if that doesn’t fuck up your thinking, I don’t know what will. Sometimes it is hard to see the truth in it’s truest form because all of the other shit in my brain is clouding my vision. This might be…ha ha….this is why I don’t really know who I am, it is why I don’t know how my emotions play out in front of others. I have tried to hide these feelings for years and I did, very successfully. It is impossible now. My children know what anxiety is. And this too, has me second guessing the true ability of my parenting. Should they know? Should I have told them? Is this going to mess them up when they are older or make them more sensitive to others? Is this going to cause an anxiety disorder in them? Do they already have anxiety? Is is my fault? ugh!

These feelings need to shut up! I often wonder how Joe Blow goes around without worrying about everything at every moment. I would like to feel that. I would like to just feel the cold or the hot without worrying about every little thing that could go wrong. Just to feel the sun beat down on my face and listen to the birds and feel the warmth, look over and see my kids playing and having fun, while I lay down and read a book, or do some gardening. (this is a summer dream of course!) I have days that I could do this, but I always end up thinking about things like, I am being lazy and should actually do something productive, or I should really get in there and actually play with my children instead of watching them. It’s a piped dream, I will have to yet again, try and fail, try and fail, and try again until I succeed at keeping a healthy body and mind. Things went to shit near Christmas time, but I need to pick up my saggy butt drawers and get on with it already. One baby step at a time I guess, but I will hit more bumps in the road every single day. I have no idea if there is such a thing as recovery for anxiety, but I wish there was.

To another day.

 

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Hatred; The true struggle

19 Nov

I thought I had it good! I closed the business and thought, hey, I am going to be a stay at home mom. I am going to organize the house, make the kids breakfast every day, do all the housework, make all the dinners and take the kids everywhere they need to go. Well….its not that easy at all first of all, second, I had to really look into how our finances are! Not a good sitchyaysion! Behind payments on some things have to be made, outrageous utility bills needed to be payed, and I don’t have an income. Great. I can tell you that this Christmas is going to be pretty damn slim. So, I keep on, like I have to. I make out a budget for us and go to get a job. The first place I went, I went in without a resume to see just by chance that they needed someone. They hired me on the spot, and I was to go in the next day for an orientation. Well, looking through the pages the manager gave me, I saw that the busy time is on Saturday and Sundays. I had to do some figures, and I knew that this wouldn’t be worth it. I would start at minimum wage, which is something like $11.45 per hour and I would need child care for every shift she put me on Saturday and Sunday. Child care is $10 or more per hour for 2 children. I am damned if I am going to go to work for $1.45 per hour. Just ridiculous.

So, that was a bust. I start from before and really think about staying home. Then I start writing my life story. Not fun because of the memories I have to endure and relive. I got to the part about my early days at the babysitters. This is tough. It’s rough and hard to put down every single word. I have to phrase it like I am writing a story, not like I am writing for you. I have to word it differently, I can’t just write what is in my head at that particular moment. I should try, come to think of it. But, anyway, while I was writing about my early years at Janie’s, more memories came to me. The ones that have been repressed for ummmm…. say, 34 years. Wow….they hit me hard. Pardon my French, but it really fucking sucks. The feelings I have, I don’t even know how to manage them. I felt my face getting hotter, I know I was flushed. Alone, with a typewriter and paper, and I was blushing. I remembered some really nasty shit that he did and the way he hid it just makes my skin crawl. Ugh…. I feel nauseous. He would prey on me when I was playing in the basement, or watching tv in the basement. He could hear if someone was coming. Ugh, I want to vomit. What a piece of shit. I am riddled with rage, embarrassment, guilt and shame already, but now I have an unwavering feeling of utter hatred and disgust. I want to protect that little girl. I want to beat the shit out of the asshole who tried this with her before he got the chance. Who the hell did he think he was? Taking someone’s innocence like that, making  her into someone completely different without a second thought. And then I think, didn’t anyone see? Didn’t anyone notice something? Anything at all? Did my behaviour change? I know that I must have followed Janie around more after that. I remember not wanting to go downstairs when Mark was home. I remember, when he came home, I ran upstairs. Oh man, I just remembered some other things. Him, coaxing me down the stairs, and Janie had no idea. She would tell Mark to keep an eye on me when she was upstairs. Oh God. Here it is folks, a mental cap has been opened. I thought it was bad when I first remembered some of the memories….this. is. much. much. much. worse. These memories are lethal. I am so queasy right now. I keep thinking that the memories have to end somewhere, but they just keep going. I never ever ever wanted to be alone with him. A little girl, innocently watching Sesame Street and playing with her little chocolate baby doll (as Janie called it) and then, in looms the darkness, the face of evil plastered with an endearing face and a fake smile. The used car salesman who sells nothing but crap. Trust me. Come sit with me. Here, give me your hand….ugh…..its much much worse than that, but I will spare you.

I know he was a victim, I learned that earlier this year. It might seem bad of me, but I do not care one iota. I was a victim too. I didn’t do that shit to anybody. It really screwed with my head. I was petrified when I had my first baby. I thought, oh man, I hope I never do that, I won’t do that. I was so scared of myself, it was terrible. I never ever have had thoughts of that before. I was scared to bathe my son. I didn’t want to touch him in case it wasn’t right, or appropriate. I know, I am just a loving mother who wants the best for my kids and to love them, I shouldn’t be a first time mother and have these fears. I blame this all on Mark. He did this to me. I was scared. I know who I am and I know I would never ever touch anyone like that. I knew who I was then too…..but it scared the shit out of me that history would repeat itself, maybe because I have watched enough episodes of SVU to know that most molesters are what they are because it was done to them.

I hate him. My day went to shit because of him. I want him gone, out of my life. Out of my memories. He ruined perfectly good memories of me with his mother. I love her. She was a wonderful care giver, and he ruined everything. He made me scared when I was little, he made me scared of loving anyone, really, and opening myself to my husband. He made me scared of real love and intimacy. He made me scared to touch my baby, even to change his diaper and bathe him. He scared me when I had to talk to him daily while his mother was in the hospital, I didn’t want to talk to him. He is a snake in the grass. He has two faces. He hides his true self. He couldn’t even admit to me that he did anything wrong. He has never told me sorry for what he has done. And I doubt he ever will. He does not make me scared anymore, but I am scared of myself and all of the hateful feelings I have towards him and his oily self. I don’t want to hate him because I love his mother.

I love her and I don’t want her hurt. But, I hate him so much. I know she loves him and always will. I know she will always protect him, and I just can’t seem to face that.

Whew, now all of that, that is my true struggle. Day to day life sucks when you are broke, but it sucks so much harder when dealing with these freaking memories, and when storing all of this hatred.

 

What Now?

6 Jun

fed upIt’s been a rough go lately. I mean, real rough.

I was going to therapy, and apparently I have more issues than just the sexual assault that has had a big effect on me and has made a giant mark on the anxiety issue that I have. Anxiety and depression is an evil that has been spread throughout my family tree, and I do not want it to go any further. Good luck huh?

Well, I have been on some anti-depressants for a while now and they were working for a while. The doc had to increase my dose and then I started feeling the old feelings again. Then, I developed a rash that has invaded my legs and arms. Not only did the medication make me gain weight which I can’t seem to shake, it has made me even more depressed with the rash and weight issue. meds

So, where do I go from here? 20-30 pounds heavier, agitated, rashy, hot and uncomfortable….. what else? Apparently alcohol therapy hasn’t been working either! Ha Ha!!!

So, I went to the doctor, who….really, could care less! I have a rash, he asks if I have fleas and scabies! Really? I look those up….the rash looks nothing like scabies and I know its not fleas. He wants to send me to a dermatologist, which he says, will take me anywhere from one and half to two years to get into….yeah….thanks. So, I ask him if there is some sort of cream I can get to clear it up….cream? you want the cream? Okay! He says and writes me a prescription. Seriously????? What the @#% is that? Am I just a cheque for him? He asks no questions and acts so non chalant about it all, I want to scream.

So, now, through encouragement of my very close friend and ally in anxiety; Nicole, I have gotten a referral to a psychiatrist. Enough of this bullshit. I really need to talk to someone who knows the mental health field and can discern what is wrong and properly diagnose me. No more guessing.

I am a little relieved to have that coming, to know I will be able to talk to someone, and get proper medication for me, and not have allergic reactions.I still have to deal with this very annoying day to day stuff.

I look at pictures of my children that are sitting on my desk and I think that they deserve perfect
so much better. I feel bad that I have to go through this with them here to witness. I wonder what kind of effect it will have on them in the future. Are they going to be more understanding? Are they going to develop the same thing? Can I prevent it?

I love them, I tell them everyday. I hug them and play with them and laugh with them, I am doing the best job that I can, but I still feel like they deserve better. Maybe that is just being a mother. It is very hard to distinguish a normal feeling to a paranoid and anxious feeling when you have GAD. Not until you talk to others, can you really desipher whether you are having a “normal” reaction or not.

I might just have to wean myself off of these drugs and wait until I see the psychiatrist to get new medications. Until then, I will be back where I started. I don’t know if that will help, but anything is better than the way I feel now. It’s like the meds have only created weight gain and rashes and the good normal feeling that I once had when I first started taking them is gone.

What to do? What Next? now what

I don’t wanna!

23 Feb

So, it is clear that things that happen in life, always effect the person you are and who you are going to be. Outlooks on life and others are greatly effected by what we have gone through earlier in life.

My life has had a lot of twists and turns, ups and downs and I am just now starting to deal with the things that have brought me to the person that I am now. I am having a pretty difficult time at this. I have support. I have a very understanding and loving husband who stands by me in the days that I just want to stay in bed and not face the world. He is there to just be with me. He does not want anything from me. He does not give me his opinion on what is the best thing for me, or the best way to deal with things, he just hugs me and lets me deal. If I need something, I will tell him and he knows this.

Lately I have been thinking way too much, which has increased my anxiety level. I want to stay inside, reading my books, doing my suduko puzzles, drinking wine and cuddling with my kids. I don’t do this….. every day! Ha Ha!!! Seriously, if I could do anything I wanted right now, I would just be sleeping. I would be in my bed.

I don’t want to deal. I don’t want to think about the horrible things that I have  been through. I don’t want to think about my dad dying, my mom being injured and taken away from me. I don’t want to think about what Mark did to me, or how my uncle beat up my cousin when I was little. I don’t want to think about the image that is etched in my brain from my car accident, my cousin’s face in the windsheild. I don’t want to feel the pain that comes back with each memory.

Even though not everything that has happened in my young life was bad, there was lots of good. Lots of love and I am not denying that, but the bad things do stay there, lingering, hunching in shadows just waiting for something to trigger their memory. I feel that the great people who have helped shaped us from the beginning have a great deal to do with how we cope. How we survive against some odds. How we love and forgive and live.

Right now, I know that I am safe. I know that I am loved, but I don’t want to deal with anything! I don’t want to remember the bad and when I do, I just want to fall down and cry. These things happened long ago,  I should have dealt with them long ago. I did not. It’s biting me in the ass now.

I don’t wanna!

I need the strength to keep going, to pull myself out of the pit that I was slowly falling into. My anxiety has started to creep back. My jaw is tight and I hold my breath. Less and less sleep.

If there were a magical elixir to stop this spiral, I would take it. I do not like this feeling. And when I say what I feel, there is always recourse. Why can’t I feel this way? Why do I have to say things in a different way? Why do I have to not say it at all? Why not? I am a human, I have feelings and words, and there is nothing appropriate about molestation, there is nothing appropriate about death and despair and anxiety and abandonment and depression. Why do I have to be appropriate when talking about all of the terrible things that a little girl had to go through? Why do I have to think about what others might think about the things that I fell victim to?

I don’t want to keep things in anymore. I don’t want to deal with them, but I have to in order to heal. I am almost 40 and I did not choose to have the things that I have gone through to happen when I was a child, and I did not choose to have all of the residual feelings to come back on me now. So what, I am not as tough as other people. So what, I am not comparing myself and my pain to anyone elses. You want me to suck it up and get over it? It’s not that easy. You think I talk to much about things that should be private? Too bad, that is not me.

People worry too much about the effect that someone else’s pain has on them directly. Why? I feel the pain. I have the memories. They are mine. I will do with them what I wish, and right now, I am laying them all out there for all to see. I am threadbare and cold. I need a warm blanket and a hug, not judgement.

So, I don’t wanna. I really don’t.

I am hurt. That is it. That is the end of the story.

Get Outta My Mind!

23 Jul

For all of the trials, ups and downs, etc. that comes with having kids…..the anxiety never leaves me! I worry. Plain and simple. I worry about….. EVERYTHING! Especially with my children. The most precious things that I have in my life, in my posession. If they are not with me I worry even more. I know it sounds excessive, but even when they are with my parents, I worry. I worry about accidents happening usually, and I know it is because I was in a terrible car accident when I was 8 and could have died. This, has made me anxious. I go into hyperventilation when I cannot put on my seatbelt. I will not move the vehicle if everyone is not buckled up. It is so bad, that I worry about which route I take somewhere, like, what are the odds that the road I am taking is going to have a horrible accident? Crazy, I know.

So, my parents took my children on a little vacation. Not far, Niagara Falls, and Great Wolf Lodge. I know they are going to have a ton of fun! It is the longest that they have both been away from me, and it is taking a lot to be in constant worry state. It feels good to have some peace and quiet, but it does not last long when I start thinking. So, I have to keep busy and occupied. We took the kids to my parents house on Sunday, and when my hubby and I were about to leave, we hug and kiss the kids, my youngest (5) was fine, “bye mom”, as he rides his little bike around the driveway. My oldest is a different story:crying-baby-300x300  crying, I mean  tears flowing down his face and it broke my heart. He didn’t want to let me go. He kept saying “I don’t want you to go”. Ugh, It was rough. I have a hard time letting go in the first place, let alone the fact that he is giving me even more concern! He is in the end of the driveway crying and waving as we are leaving. In my crazy brain, I start thinking that this is his super sense premonition. He is telling me in a way that something bad is going to happen. This feeling never leaves me when something like this happens. It makes me very uneasy. I try to get out of the house so early in the morning that the kids don’t even see me leave. This way I won’t deal with any crying that will unbalance my feelings for the day and make me very anxious.

I tend to soak up everyone’s feelings that they are radiating around them. This really and truly sucks….to be blunt. People have thought that I was a mind reader. I feel feelings. If you picture a speaker, and those cartoon lines that are sound waves,aura this is how feelings radiate around a person, and I can see them and feel them better than most people. This is very uncomfortable at times, or it can be fun. It is always something! ha ha! I always feel like I have to be “on” when I am visiting with anyone, except for my immediate family. Sometimes I am super comfortable. Most times I am not. It’s funny that I haven’t thought about this until now, but I am always being who I think the other person/people need me to be. This can be anything from a mother figure, a best friend, a business person, etc. This is tiring. I am along this trip of life, trying to find me and be comfortable in my own skin, yet I am still bending and twisting into other forms. Which brings to me a question, am I truly myself in all of these instances? I think maybe I am, I just amplify some aspects of myself to make others comfortable. Maybe this is why I have made it so easy in the past to be taken advantage of. Bingo! There is some self actualization right there!

I know for sure I am always anxious. Worry will never leave me. But I have to work on the morphing myself to please others bit. I know that nobody asks me to do this, I do it of my own free will… not realizing. How do I stop?

My husband is the one that makes me very anxious as well. He is my roots when I am floating, but he also has an anger issue, not with anyone but himself though. Pain, can throw him for a loop and make him angry, this is the worst feeling for me. Feeling his anger is really really terrible for me.anger I don’t anger easily, and feeling his anger rise in such a short time, is very off putting for me. I go to the place where I think it is my fault, even though he is not projecting his anger on to me. I hope I am clear describing all of this. My husband is not violent whatsoever and has respect for me, he is great,  his anger is always directed towards himself. Just to be clear!

My neighbour, who is my very close friend, is painting her bedroom, and this is making her different. I was helping her paint, and I could feel her frayed nerves. This made me very uneasy and I had to tell her to calm down because I was feeling her feelings. I ended up going to her house when she was at work and completing most of the rest of the job. I not only wanted to help her out, painting calms me, but I wanted her to stop feeling so frazzled. This might sound a little selfish, but it wasn’t done with that intent. I guess I don’t realize why I do these things until I think about it afterwards. Plus, I like being a good friend. It makes me happy to make others happy…..uh oh, there is another self realization right there. I like to make people happy, because it reflects onto my feelings.

Oops! Ha Ha!Empathy-