Saturday, 12 April 2014

Set Back

I fooled myself. It's my own fault really. ECT made me feel so good. I was happy. I, very very very naively, let myself believe that ECT would act as a cure for me. It's not a cure - it's a treatment. There is no cure for Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder. I am stuck with this sentence for life. The other day I crashed, and I crashed straight into suicidal territory. It's where I go - I go big. The fact that I was able to crash, caused me to crash more. I realized that it's never going to be all better. I will always have this. I will always be battling depression. I didn't want to do it anymore. I didn't want to be a burden on people. This already must be hard enough on my kids and my family. I wanted to end it all. I very nearly did. The sole reason I didn't was Andrea. She doesn't realize how often she saves me. There is a part of me that still believes that my kids would have a better life without me. They, by virtue of being my children, are stuck with me as long as I am alive and not abusing them. Andrea, on the other hand, chooses to be with me, knowing full well what I am and what I have. It is for her that I keep trying.

I feel better now. I'm not as happy as i was a few days back, but that's okay. What I need to do is get some hobbies and activities that fill my personal cup. I need to get some coping mechanisms. I need to learn how to handle my emotions and failures. I am going to sink into depression again. Even now I can still feel it sitting there, waiting, but it doesn't have to be my whole life. I don't have to let it. I just have some learning to do.

Monday, 7 April 2014

Hope

People say it's a barbaric treatment, ECT. You know what, if you think about it - intentionally shocking someone to induce a seizure, it is. It's a violent treatment option. But bipolar and borderline are violent mental illnesses. They may not rock my body physically, but they take everything from me. They ruin me. They ruined me. ECT works for me, it is working for me. I feel hopeful again. I feel rejuvenated, re-energized. I don't know if I feel like the same person I was before, but I am beginning to be okay with that. Andrea and I are able to make goals and hopes for the future, I am actually able to see a future for myself. Life doesn't always have to be suicide and depression. Yes, I still need to learn some coping skills for my emotions, and I am hoping to start the DBT for that, but it's wonderful to be at some sort of baseline. It feels beyond baseline, I feel elated, It almost feels like a high. Is this what happy feels like? I am not expecting the wonderful feelings I have now to last forever, I know they will fade as I get used to my new normal, but I don't want to ever, EVER, take this for granted. I have been in some very deep dark places, and I don't want to ever forget that. I have put my family through hell, and while I am not nor will I ever be cured, I can start to make up for that. Wiggers seemed surprised at how well I was doing, and was impressed that I had responded so well to this, considering they don't normally do it on people so young. Screw age. Meds weren't working, talk therapy didn't work. I was losing everything, and had already lost myself. This is wonderful. 

Saturday, 1 March 2014

the sharp knife of a short life

I have no identity. What little identity I did have was wrapped up in my job. It was what i did, who I was. it was my responsibility. I have no hobbies, no interests, no nothing. I am no individual. The only thing I had was my work - and now I have lost that.

I have completely lost myself. Completely lost it all.

I have no idea how to get through this. No idea how I am supposed to survive, let alone carry my family at the same time. I barely have the energy to get myself through the day let alone parent the children, clean the house, and be a better partner. On top of that, we need to decide what direction our lives are going. How do I make those decisions? I learned the hard way not to make decisions while depressed - enter the wharncliffe house. But right now, decisions HAVE to be made, and I have to be a part of them. How do I make rational decisions when my thoughts aren't even in the slightest bit rational?

I hate everything I have become. everything I am.

Its a struggle. I feel like no one understands. Everyone wants to help, and I want them to help, but I dont know how. I feel beyond help. I feel lost in my own breath.

I feel so bad for Andrea, she has to deal with all of this, all of the everything. Once again, I will never, ever, be able to make this up to her. I worry about ever feeling like her equal when I feel so much below her.

I feel flawed, in every sense of the word.

I have let so many people down. I was supposed to be successful in whatever I decided to do, and I have failed in everything I have tried.

I want dreams, I want hope, I want to live again.

Saturday, 1 February 2014

Resignation

I don't like my body, I don't like my mind, as a result I neglect both of them and treat them very poorly. Ironic, though, for if I would put the time and energy into my mind and body; if I DIDN'T neglect them, they would be healthier and I would probably like them.

I have become stagnant. I have settled. I am what I am. I feel broken, mind and body. I feel that I have tried so many times and so many things and still remain broken that what is the point in continuing to try. Trying leads to failure, always, in this situation anyways. 

I am fat. I am overweight. I am clinically obese. I have about 5 shirts that fit me. 4 of them are men's L or XL and 1 is a women's 2X. I have two pairs of pants - one of them maternity pants with holes. My XL underwear I bought don't fit. I am huge. I am giant. I hate it. I hate every part of it. There is a deep sense of self loathing. There is nothing about my physicality I remotely appreciate. I used to try things to make it better. It never got better. Instead I felt worse, I felt both fat an like a failure. Now, I just feel fat.

My mind is broken. I am bipolar. I process things differently then the average person. I am constantly trying to keep negative thoughts under control and in check. If I'm in a good mood I am hyper aware of any possibility that it could be mania. There is no normal. Everything in my brain is a struggle - daily. No one understands that. It's a very lonely feeling.

I do not like my mind and body. In fact, I hate them with every piece of my being, I do not think I could hate them more. But I have resigned myself to this now. These are my cards in life. At least I no longer feel like a failure. 

Thursday, 2 January 2014

Self Loathing

I was going through my notes on my phone looking for my student loan number, who by the way took $300 from me this morning, and came across a note where I was keeping track of my weight at the beginning of last year. On January 2nd 2012 I weighed 182.8lbs. That means in a year, exactly a year I have gained over 20lbs. To get to my goal weight to lose nearly 100lbs. I saw pictures of me wearing the kids (yes all of them, even the 50lb+ boys) and was horrified at how large I have become. I hate myself and the way I look. I absolutely hate it. There is no dignity or respect in the way I look now, there is only shame. I am embarrassed and ashamed.

Add to that that I got demoted at work, kicked out of school (though that was due to my work not paying my tuition), can't afford the house, have to move, feelings around being an NGP and my life just sucks royal ass right now. If I didn't have the love I do from Andrea and the kids I don't where I would be.

All I want is to be happy. Happy with what I have, working towards better. It seems so simple.

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

Sad Fat Girl - 15

Ug.

I went clothes shopping the other day at the second hand store. I had only two pairs of pants - a pair of maternity ones that Andrea wore when she was pregnant with Roman, and a pair of dress pants (a size 16) that I bought nearly a year ago that now no longer did up, and I had popped a button on. I walked down the pant aisle and looked at the sizes 5 and 7 I wore what seems like lifetimes ago, and turned around to the other side where the 16+ was. I tried on 16's - no go. Tried on 18's - no go. Tried on 20's no go. The only thing left was 24+ and they were all elastic waistband ugly pants - not acceptable for work. I cried - right there. I went to the jeans aisle, and ended up getting a pair that was a brand from the plus size store.

I am giant.

I hate it.

All my shirts are large or extra large. Andrea bought me a jacket and its a men's extra large.

I am disgusting. I am embarrassed to be seen in public, embarrassed to come to work every day, I hate it.

I look back on pictures of the size I used to be, how I used to look, and I am floored. How could I ever let myself get so big. I looked back on an old journal entry where I was hating on myself for being 150lbs...now I would kill to be that weight again.

How have I done this to myself?

Thursday, 10 October 2013

Hitting the ground hard

I hit the ground hard. Like really hard. I was quite depressed. I was suicidal, and making plans. One night while sleeping on the couch I almost got up and got my pills and was going to walk out the door and just end it all. I was failing at work, failing at school, failing at home, failing at life in general. I was not in a good place. I tried to talk to Andrea several times but always just felt more alone anytime I tried.

I know this came at the worst time ever. I know it was her biggest fear that I would get depressed when she needed me most. And I feel awful that I was/am in that place. She felt alone, I felt alone - we were just existing and I was doing a poor job at that.

My work was piling up on my desk because I just couldn't do it. I couldn't make myself. it all seemed so pointless. I felt like I was on the verge of being fired - and am only now clawing my way back up through the mess I created for myself. I stopped going to classes, and as a result missed my mid term. It took coming clean to my professor and the head of the department about my bipolar and depression in order for me to get a second chance at this thing. I can't waste this chance. It all still seems like so much work, and I am still not back to functioning completely. I'm worried about my future.

Every time I enter a depression whether mild or severe it gets harder and harder to rationalize with myself. This isn't something I want to live with for the rest of my life. This isn't something I want to subject others with. It's just going to keep happening, and even if I get a hold on it now it is just going to come back at some point. There is no cure. This is a life long fight and not one that I think I am prepared to fight. Sure, I can fight it now, this time - but what about next time?

I did email Wiggers, and we upped my anti-depressant, and I guess that seems to be helping. I am not suicidal anymore - which I think was the main goal. I still don't see the point of most things though. I still can't feel feelings. I still don't have half the energy of a normal person. I'm still struggling. I'm tired of struggling.

I still weigh 200lbs and am incredibly self conscious. I refuse to buy myself clothes, or be bought clothes, because I am ashamed of my body size. I have two pairs of work pants that fit me - one pair are maternity pants so that feels great. I have a limited number of shirts and I am thanking my lucky stars that its fall, and soon winter, so I can cover myself up with one of the two sweaters that fit me.  I don't like being touched. Maybe if I could get out of my head a bit it wouldn't bother me so much, but I live in my head. I am always aware of how big I am, and I am big. I have no self confidence, which I am sure does not help my depression. *sigh*

Sometimes I feel like a waste of space...a lot of space.