Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Shit

I made it through an evening last night. I had a slight anxiety attack before we started watching something, had to keep myself busy - but dammit I was actually downstairs for a good period of time. I feel proud of myself for such a small accomplishment. When I get to bed I felt so frantic, My entry in my journal is so all over the place, and giant. I was so frantic and I don't know why.

Then we went to bed. Andrea was upset because of the moving - and I felt powerless to do anything because a) I cant do anything, we are moving.. and b) I was in my own personal heartburn hell courtesy of the medication or something. I get it within 10 minutes of swallowing those pills. So that kept her up. And either our room is dry, or something but I get all stuffed up at night lately so I have been snoring - and I know that keeps her up, plus her dealing with squishy at night..she slept awful. Not that I slept better - but its my own fault.

I'm thinking maybe I'll sleep on the couch or something until I get this whole heartburn and snoring thing under control - that way she just has to deal with squish.

Wiggers wants a phone consult with me today - I'm over it - and it hasn't happened yet.

Got into a car accident on my way to work. Sigh. I so emotionally can't handle this. Its yet another thing we have to deal with - and its my fault. All my fault. They don't seem to care, but I can't stop beating myself up over it. And I have to go home and face them later. I fell apart after it happened. Could not stop crying. The cops suggested it must be shock. I just think its everything on top of everything. I just can't hack it. I thought I was getting a handle on things. I've been trying to look at the bright side of things, to be more positive, or something - but it's not working. I know life, like knitting, is not out to get me - it's me doing it - but I don't seem to know how to av
oid these situations. I always seem to get myself into trouble and I don't know how to stop.

Moving stress. Sleeping stress. Vehicle Stress. Money stress.

And then there is thin girl at work, who is essentially the thin version of what I want to be. And I do feel like I'm in high school again. She has two kids and is like a size zero, and wheres the clothes I always wanted to wear. I tried to try today - to not hide - to wear something I wouldn't normally wear to work. Even put make up on - that all went to hell with the crying after my accident.

I feel unusually calm right now - outwardly. Inwardly I feel like I am on the verge of psychologically breaking.

Monday, 28 November 2011

At Home Anxiety

I feel like while I am at work I can control my environment. I can chose when and how I do something, and pretty much know what going to happen. There are no surprises. I can feel the anxiety within me, that is the social anxiety of being away from the comforts of my bed where I feel safest, but I feel able to manage it, Hold it in check. It's like it sits in a little ball in my gut just circling. I know its there, but because I can control so much here it never explodes, never rises. Well - for the most part it never rises.

Then add the change of environment to going home - a transition makes my anxiety worse. And at home, I can't control anything. So I survive for as long as I can, trying to keep my anxiety in check - and then when I could exert some control (IE when the kids go to bed), I have no energy. I cant make the decisions. I can't function. So I retreat to my bedroom, early every night, and write and think, and succumb to the numbing and sleep inducing aspects of my medication hoping that when Andrea comes to bed she isn't so mad as to not cuddle with me, and hoping that tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, I will have enough energy to function in the evening, and the anxiety wont be as bad as it was the day before.

And every day I wake up, and I try. And I feel okay. I know what to expect most mornings, and when I am surprised I can handle it - sometimes. But by about noon, every day, the anxiety about going home begins to grow. I like being at home, I like being with my family. I really like being in my bed - its so safe. But I can't stop the anxiety. And it literally hurts me, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I don't know how to stop the anxiety, and the anxiety feeds me depression, which feeds my anxiety...I just want to stay in bed forever, and it would if not for the overwhelming guilt I feel about it.

Sunday From Hell

Yesterday was right up there with one of the worst days I've had. I sat on my bed with pills in my hand - just wanting to end it. Wanting to stop hurting. I can't handle this anymore. Its too hard, and too long, and taking up so much of my energy that should be going to other avenues of my life.

I feel blah today. I look blah. I want some motivation.

I don't even know the point of this. To update I guess. I wrote Andrea like 8 different letters, and erased them all last night.

It didn't matter.

Nothing I say can make up for the fact that I'm a shitty partner right now.

Friday, 25 November 2011

Anxious

I'm anxious and nervous to hear back from wiggers. I don't know why. I want him to change something. Maybe I'm scared of being out here on my own. Maybe I want to go back until I feel okay to handle it. Maybe I want the zombie drugs so I don't have to feel. Maybe I need the talk support therapy to happen right now in order to help me. I really want him to change or do something. I'm not sure.

Maybe I'm expecting this to be easier than its going to be, maybe this is what it feels like and this is getting better. But the anxiety I feel right now doesn't feel right. The feeling of panic when being physically close to someone doesn't feel right. The urges to self harm don't feel right - but maybe it's all part of the process.

Maybe I really am going crazy...

Something Awry

Back on the meds now. Obviously.

Had motivation at work and was making sales - gone now.

I get panicked..not panicked..Idk..

Something about the stillness of the evenings, or the face to face intimacy with Andrea just...makes my heart start racing. I love kissing her; and I can still feel that overwhelming need to kiss her - but the intimacy, the close contact, the quietness in the evening. It just makes me..so overwhelmingly nervous and scared.

Its easier to be holed up in my room. I write in my journal, draw something quickly. Id like to be painting I think. But I always feel angry while I do it. I take my pills, last night took a tryptophan as well - and then just pass out with no effort of my own.

It feels like an escape.

Maybe I'm expecting to much or looking for the easy way out. Maybe I thought that when I felt better things would just get back to normal. I feel like I'm heading down a downward spiral right now. I feel lost, and not all together here.

But it's the evenings. Andrea doesn't seem happy, and is always worried about me - rightly so - and I always end up screwing things up. She is tired of sitting and knitting. I don't know what else to do.

I need to finish that sweater. It is an emotional burden to me now. Now the knitting of it - the knitting is easy, its the actual garment. I need it and Kahlan's to be done. Its like those two projects are so interlinked to the hospitalization period of my life that I cant help but feel dejected as I knit them.

Maybe Andrea and I can go to the coffee store and knit for a bit - give me some new memories or something. I don't know. I need them done.

I need to feel like me.

I feel like this isn't something that I'm going to get over, but rather need to find a way to manage, to have under control. And I don't know how to do that. Meds? Therapy? Time?

I feel so lost lately. And feeling lost while stressed is not a good combo for me. I'm heading down. Drowning again.

Just because I feel that way doesn't mean I want that closeness to stop, not having it all would be worse.

Sigh

Thursday, 24 November 2011

GingerKid

Ginger kid - a guy at my work, I like this name better than his actual name. Also suffers from bi-polar. I was talking with him this morning and he said from what it seemed that it appeared that my relationships with those closest to me are causing me more stress than the disorder itself is. I can never make the disorder go away, but I can find balance in my relationship.

I wonder if there is a support group for those whose family members or partners have bipolar or some other mental disorder. I think Andrea would benefit from it, and maybe in the long run our relationship would.

On top of taking an ativan before I went home last night, I also took one in the evening - to try and have a good night. I managed some semblance of normal for a while. But I feel so..not watched..but still..I don't know..like I am the cause of the problems in the home. I know I am. I know its been my issues over the last year that have dramatically changed my relationship with Andrea - but when I am feeling relatively normal, it still doesn't make those problems of the last year go away. Things aren't going to snap and get better between us. But I don't know what we do. How do we take advantage of my better-ness? How do we talk about difficult things without worrying that it will send me spiraling again.

Being bad was almost easier, we knew what to expect, now we are trying to create a whole new normal - and I suppose that will take time.

Still don't like how the meds make me feel. I can't wake up. I can't even process what time it is when my kid comes into bed, or when I have to get out of bed. I've been up now for 3 hours, and I'm still stuck in going back to sleep mode.

Prozac seems to make me more artsy. I have felt the need to paint for the past two nights. In the new house I want a place for me to paint that isnt away from everyone. I'd like to be able to paint in the evenings but still be with Andrea, still watch house or Glee. IDK...Balance...more balance.

I hate the way the drugs make me feel!

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

The Other Side

I feel like I am on the other side. Like I've made a breakthrough of sorts. I'm feeling more like myself.

I did take my meds last night - had talked to wiggers all day, and we came up with something for me to try. I don't want to slip back to either of the places I was before.

I had a rough night though. Or evening. It all started because I started hating the way that I look. I've gained 45lbs in 7 months. I am now back to a place I NEVER EVER WANTED to be. Its disgusting, and makes me want to starve myself tbh. Then it continued with a parenting discussion. This time, I was the bad guy - we seem to take turns.

Its hard not baby squish, when she is growing up without me there. Im not there to watch her vocabulary grow, I dont witness all the things mom's normally do. Plus. I have been absent as a parent for the better part of a year. Its no excuse. And I dont do it out of guilt - its about not knowing *how* to parent who she is now. So I have to force myself to accept that my baby isn't a baby anymore. And that's hard to do - even for non depressed moms who see their kids all the time and are present with them.

So I was done. Went upstairs to go to bed. Took my pills. Wrote in my book. Poked holes in my leg because I needed some form of release. And went to sleep in my clothes without having brushed my teeth.

But hey - at least I showered yesterday.

I'm trying to remember that how I felt yesterday, and how I have felt for the majority of the day IS an improvement. And that though its hard to wake up again and I dont feel rested the pills are worth it. I'm trying.

And yet..even when I try, I still feel that its not good enough.

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

Day 2

Still didn't take my meds. Conscious choice last night. Andrea doesn't have it in her to fight one way or the other. I feel awful for her - but this isn't her battle - she is just the victim of my choices.

I feel good still today. I woke up again. Actually woke up and was awake, I felt rested. My dreams have returned to normal. Maybe meds aren't for me. Maybe I was never that bad. Maybe it was a phase or a moment and now it has a passed and the meds keep making it worse. I don't know. Part of me knows I should take them, but what's the motivation when I feel near human without them?

Short term memory still a big problem. It's weird. I don't realize how bad it is until I try to think of something I know I should remember. We sat and knit last night, I can't remember what we watched. I went out to get something from the store - I know I got cookies because I just ate one, but that wasn't why I went - I don't remember what I got. It's very frustrating.

What else am I forgetting?

What part of me is left?

Monday, 21 November 2011

Better Without

I'm having memory loss issues lately. And I hate it. I hate not being able to remember simple things. I don't know whats doing it...either the depression, or the meds, or bi-polar or some combination of something.

I didn't take my meds last night. I dont know why. No real issue. I gave Andrea a nice back rub, and then we just kind of fell asleep. Or at least I think we did - I can't remember what happened after I finished. But I woke up feeling like I had had the best sleep I have ever had. It was glorious - and today I feel wonderful.

At least I think I do. Right now I don't feel motivated to work, and kind of just want to go home. But I feel relatively normal. Its nice to feel normal. Not taking the drugs makes me feel normal. Ken tell me it wont last.

But really, maybe I never needed meds in the first place? Maybe I was just kind of depressed and the meds kept making it worse. I don't really know. All I know is I didn't take them last night I don't feel suicidal or manic today at all.

Friday, 18 November 2011

Unsettled

My insides are quivering...its hard to explain. Its like my internal self is shaking and I don't know why. Wiggers upped my prozac to 20mg yesterday. Maybe its that - I don't know.

I'm hoping he isn't doing the prozac test on me - you know where they give you prozac to see if you have a manic episode - that pretty much gaurantees you are bi-polar. I don't care if I am bi-polar, well I do, but I don't want to be thrown back into a manic state just to find out for sure. Neither myself nor Andrea nor my family can handle another episode. I need to keep it together for a little while.

The internal shaking has no turned external ish (I started writing this and then left for about 5 hours). Is this how normal feels? Am I just happy? I mean, I found out my job might sponsor my schooling - which is awesome. And I haven't been freezing cold all day today. I am hungry but whatevs. Or is this the beginning of mania? Why would I be manic though? My Prozac *just* went up. But my legs are bouncing up and down, not being able to sit still.

I'm sure this is all in my head. This is how happy feels. This is how normal feels. This is how I should feel all the time.

I guess the real test will be if I stay happy or whatever when I go home....

Thursday, 17 November 2011

Cause Fucking Up Takes Practice and I feel Im Well Rehearsed

I made a mistake - but I didn't know it was a mistake at the time. Even now I'm a little bit unsure. I know I hurt her, I know she is upset. I cant blame my mania - but I know that's why it started.

I went manic, and in looking at my history I tend to crave attention from Men while manic - wiggers thinks this kind of explains my sluttiness and what not when I was younger. I went manic, knew that Tom had interest in me, and I exploited that for attention. Nothing more than flirting, I do like the guy - I do consider him a friend, he isn't ugly; but not in 100 years would I ever want to do anything with him. But I flirted with him, and he did back. I thought I had told Andrea about all of it 0- I guess I wasn't clear enough, and in that regard I guess it was dishonest. But it wasn't done on purpose. I thought she liked that all the guys in the warehouse liked me. I thought she liked the fact that though they wanted me, she *had* me. Maybe she did, but I guess she didn't know the extent..Idk. I feel awful because it really was just a game. To be honest, if my mania lasted any longer it may have gone farther, and that thought - even then - scared me. Which is why I told Ken about all of it so he would 'keep watch' at work so to speak. IDK..Nothing and no one is more important than her.

Then there is the smoking thing. Yes I still smoke - when I'm stressed. I thought I had told her that. I've never lied about it. No I didn't tell her every time I had one - am I supposed to? Idk. Maybe I don't know to what degree we tell each other things. I didn't think I was being dishonest. When she asked, I told her. I didn't intentionally change my clothes, wash my hands or anything to try to hide when I had one. I wasn't trying to hide anything.

I feel caught off guard, and I guess she does too. I'm trying not to make this about me because it isn't. She is the one upset. My mania caused the issue with Tom, and I was the one who did it. Its not my fault, but it is my responsibility. I'm now trying to not let my depression consume me with thoughts of our relationship ending, even though I fear that's a strong possibility. I'm trying to remain afloat, to keep control.

I have no idea how I am supposed to go home and not be awkward. She wouldn't even kiss me. I don't blame her. But I have no idea her thought patterns. I'm scared. I always jump to the worst conclusions. I'm trying to remain calm, and not break down and cry - though I've done that already too. I wait. As with every other time I have screwed up with her, I wait. I've screwed up a lot..I didn't realize that until right now...MJ, yelling at the kids, Joel, my drug relapse, taking my anger out on her, tom and the smoking thing...whats going to be too much..Eventually I'm going to push her over the edge. It's really my own doing...and I fall farther down the rabbit hole.

I want us to be men. I want us to fight and punch each other and then be fine. But I know it wont be like that - I have no idea how its going to be, and that fact scares me more than a little bit.

Fail

I had it all planned. I was so excited. I though I could actually do it. I went home early, made muffins, played with the kids. Had dinner - and then something happened after dinner and I crashed. Hard.

I so wanted us to go out for drinks, and to fabricland - it would have been fun. It would have been good for us. Instead, I was balled up in my little emotional cocoon of depression, and I couldn't get out. I feel bad for her. I feel bad for me. I don't know how to stop these things from happening, or how to get out of them when they do.

All I wanted was one anniversary of something that I was happy for. Most holidays are filled with stress, and birthdays don't agree with me - this was my chance to actually have an important day not be filled with bad memories. They day only happens once, why couldn't I hold off.

I feel like a complete failure. I've let myself down. Today started too early, and I am still all drowsy from the meds. Plus its cold in here - How do I stop the bad mood today.

I'm so unbelievably tired of this.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Choices

"You and I decided to try to keep you life as normal as possible with a short hospital stay and back to work again. If that is too much, we could look at a longer stay up to 3 weeks to really give you a recovery period.

I emailed wiggers this morning just to give him an update on how I was feeling. Now that my mania has subsided, I'm back to being depressed. So much for normal eh? But I've been off meds that are supposed regulate the depression for a week now - just started back on them today. So it makes sense that its back. I guess I had been hoping for a reprieve of sorts? IDK..

I can see it draining on Andrea - greatly. I can feel it draining on me. Not feeling good enough. Like I'm not trying hard enough, or am enough. Wiggers and I had discussed me staying longer until I'm more under control. But we need the money my income brings. I don't actually want to be away from everyone. But with a few minor exceptions I feel I'm doing more harm than good by staying.

I don't want to go back either. I don't want to fit in. So what do I do. Am I crazy enough to say I need to go back? Should I check myself back in? Should I give myself another 5 days on Prozac and see if that works? If not, then what. We're moving. Can I wait until after we move?

I don't know what to do. I have no idea where the best place is for me. I just want to get better, and want Andrea to not feel so stressed, or give me those looks she gave me last night. I miss her. I miss her so terribly. I ache for us.

Plus most of my stressors come from home, so how can I deal with them while I'm away. IDK..Im so confused. I so wish this wasn't my life.

Mistakes

Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe I should have stayed in the pysch ward. At least there we weren't fighting. We just missed each other terribly instead. It's easier to miss someone and feel overwhelmingly in love with someone, than it is to feel like you are constantly on edge. I know it's my fault. I take all my anger or anything or on her, or maybe because she knows me better she sees it more and thinks its directed at her.

Either way, tomorrow marks our two year anniversary - I am petrified we will be angry all day.

I miss the way things used to be, and while they don't have to be like that again - I just wish I wasn't so unstable all of the time. Maybe the pysch ward is best...

Monday, 14 November 2011

What I didn't know is I was Killing you

I heard this song three times the day I was held at the psychiatric unit. It's now associated with it. Slightly Fitting. I guess.

I complain
When nothing's even wrong
And you're ashamed
Cause you're not quite that strong


That's when I said I'll need
More than you can offer me
I miss your face as you can tell
I hope my absence makes you well

Cause what I didn't know
Is I was killing you
I said a lot of things that I didn't mean to

But I am older now
And I am sorry too
So I can wait awhile
If it brings me back to you

I am shy
I never speak a word
And you are numb
From all the things you never heard

That's when I said I'll need
More than you can offer me
But now I own an empty space
And I can't fill it with your face

Cause what I didn't know
Is I was killing you
I said a lot of things that I didn't mean to
But I am older now
And I believe in you
So I can wait awhile
If it brings me back to you

Saw wiggers this morning. Was glad to see me better. I didn't confront him about the lie or miscommunication - what good would it have done. He put me on a combination of Prozac and the olanzapine. The former for depression the latter for mania.

When did my life get so regulated with pills.

I also take ativan 2-3 times a day..for a little while - until Im less crazy. So maybe all these pills will help. I need to help myself. I'm hoping that support group can offer me some insight. Wiggers is unsure of that - but it's worth a try.

I dont know how to put me first. In my head it makes PERFECT CLEAR SENSE to try and do all the things I am capable of doing to make sure those I love, who chose to be with me, are happy. I will sacrifice myself for Andrea because she can chose to leave. I will sacrifice myself for my kids; Im a mom and its what you do. I will even sacrifice myself for my acquaintances..

Why am I any more deserving of being happy if I can prevent their unhappiness? Isn't it selfish to see others in anger or sadness if I can do something about it?

Apparently though, everyone suffers when I'm not happy...so If I want them to be happy, I need to be happy..its all so confusing.

Where did I learn that my happiness comes last?

Sunday, 13 November 2011

If I...

If I never told Wiggers about my actions with a belt..
If only I hadn't told Ken that wiggers wanted to see me..
If only I hadn't told Andrea about...
If I hadn't have gone to that appointment on Friday I wouldn't have been issued two Pink Slips which means they can hold me "involuntarily" for 30 days. I am on a weekend pass right now.

I spend my Saturday afternoon/evening going in between feeling elated over being home, to crashing after the kids let my emotional crap out of the bag, and if only I had been able to knit properly..If only..If only..

But two night I spent there - didn't see the kids. Only talked to Andrea, saw her a couple of times too. I painted with the crazies, talked to whoever would listen, knit, and read and tried to survive. I wasn't allowed to keep my knitting or my phone with me. My whereabouts were checked every hour, and meds dished out at the desk..just like at my mom's work. It was a long 48hrs. I've written extensively in my paper journal about my experiences. To sum up though...

I felt out of place, but comfortable. If not for the nagging and aching pain to go home it isnt that bad. But I missed my family - all of them. They were all quite welcoming, and asked a lot of questions - that I still dont like to answer.

For now..I am on that weekend pass. Not discharged yet. I go back monday..who knows what will happen then.

The olanzapine I was switched to only really deals with the mania...but what about the rage, or depression that creep in at times. I guess thats my job...I guess thats what I need to learn to handle.

I HAVE NO SKILLS OR TOOLS to deal with that.

I'm lost - again and still.

Thursday, 10 November 2011

The End is Near

Im so fucking angry. I just broke glass at work because Tom said I could. Breaking glass is fun - cathartic...but not cathartic enough.

Wiggers wants to see me.

In trying to be honest with him I admitted to doing something thats not stupid in my eyes, actually quite smart, but he deemed it dangerous, very dangerous in fact.

Depression made everyone unhappy. Mania is apparently dangerous. And those are the only two I can seem to muster up.

Breaking point draws closer.

Here we Go again



This is what I did last night. 17.7km in just under 3hours. Andrea had gone to bed, and I felt like Craig was watching me. So I walked. There were a lot less healthy options available to me. Came back home, and my body was tired - but my brain was not - but I did manage a few hours of sleep before Remy came into the bed.

I woke up still feeling manic, still kind of crazy - but also with the after affects of being so angry. I also crashed a few times on my walk and cried for a bit.

I miss being happy, purely happy, but my life is what is is.

I broke two of my paintings - they weren't real anymore, they weren't true.

I'm working over time today. Need to do something. Need to stay busy. Dont want the crash that I know is coming.

Woke up without drowsiness and dizziness again today. So awesome. Its a lie though, and I know it.

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Mania

Holy Mania Batman!

About 30 minutes or so after I took an ativan it was like I switched into a manic episode. It continues now. I can't fucking sit still, can't concentrate. My mind is like in 8 different directions. I cant calm the fuck down.

I think I got like 4 hours of sleep last night. I laid there off and on, sleeping - not sleeping, just laying. Not thinking, just not sleeping. It wasn't bad like it used to be - no suicidal thoughts.

Fuck was it nice to wake up this morning and actually be able to wake up. No drowsiness, no dizziness..I just woke up. It was fucking awesome. I didn't wake up cranky or aggravated or down like I normally do. I even had a shower and wore nice clothes, make up and all. I even put a bra on again today. Its amazing to feel alive. SO fucking alive.

I's aware this is mania. I'm aware it isn't going to last. I'm aware I'm going to crash. I'm aware that my illusions of being better than most things aren't true. I'm aware of it all. Thing is - I don't give a fucking shit right now. Its nice to feel happy, and bubbly, and full of energy. Dave even commented on it at work - that I seem so happy. No one ever tells me how happy I look. I miss being happy - and I'm fucking going to soak up all of this until I crash.

I'm entitled to feel good.

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Control

I didn't want to take it. I wanted to pretend to take it. To store them up. No actual plan or anything. Just to rebel, to act out, to have control. The next 6 months of my life are on these pills and I have no control over them. Its hard. Its hard to give up that much control. Control of my happiness, my stability, my mood - all in the hands of Andrea who gives the little white pills. I'm not blaming or mad at Andrea - I've asked her to do this, as has Wiggers, and it needs to be done for my safety. I still don't trust me and my depression or my addiction - its just hard.

I can also get diet pills, if I gain like 5 more pounds, its tempting to just gain the weight so that I can get them and lose the weight that I've gained in the last like 6 months. I miss my smaller clothes. I don't even need to be 110, I just want to fit nicely in my 28's and where the clothes I used to wear. I just want to feel a little bit good about my body and being in the 140's as I am now is just disheartening. Evidently, I'm okay with cheating my weight down.

I'm still craving to find something for me, something that fills my cup. I think that's why I've thrown myself to into cheap reno's for the house - I know its something I can do. I'm excited to make it our own - make it our home.

I waiver on the kids' school. I so want to be involved. I know how cliquey and community private schools are - and they require a lot of effort. I know Andrea doesn't have the energy to do it all, and I want to. But I don't know how to and not feel like crap about myself. In order for our kids to have the best private school education the parents have to be involved, and it will be easier for all involved when we live there - but I don't know how to get over my own insecurities. And there are many; from relationships, to distance, to values, to involvement - I have a tonne.

Now that I'm padded from suicide, I need to start working on my personal issues. Break them down one by one - and I have no idea where to start or how to do it on my own. Its like I'm no longer drowning, but there is no one coming to my rescue - its just me and my life jacket keeping me afloat. Eventually my life jacket will fail or disintegrate. I need to learn how to swim.

Monday, 7 November 2011

Burn and Crash

Yesterday I did what I never thought I'd do. Or at least what I hoped I wouldn't. I had an overpowering need to find my pills. To find the seroquel and ativan and either take them or simply hold the knowledge of where they were. I needed to know. I searched the entire area where I thought they were hidden - feeling more desperate and angry by the second. I didn't find them. I felt more disappointed in myself then words can describe. Disappointed for not finding them, and disappointed for wanting to find them in the first place.

And then this morning I was completely reminded of why it is I hate seroquel. I tried to be slow to get out of bed. I sat on Remy's bed for a while. I took my time - and still when I came downstairs I was so dizzy and nauseous and nearly blacked out. It was tense and shaky and it sucked. I hate what this med does to me. Even now I still feel a little unsteady a little off. Maybe it was so bad this morning because I took it late. Its either I lose an evening because I cant stay awake or I feel like complete shit the next morning. Where is the middle ground?

One of my fears in my really down moments was that when and if I ever felt better than I would realize that I was really fighting for nothing, and that nothing had changed. I have felt better, over all I guess, the last couple of days - but I am left with that feeling of what has changed? Really, nothing has. I still feel like I have nothing. Like nothing is mine. That I'm not working for anything for me. I still wonder what all the fighting is for. What's in it for me? This feeling scares me. I wanted so badly to feel better, and when I do have moments it doesn't seem entirely worth it.

I feel really low today. Really off. Really done. I feel like shit, I look like shit - I even intended to wear a bra today, and makeup just to try to make myself feel a little better about myself. But the shirt didn't look right even with a bra - it looks fantastic on Andrea though, really can't wear it anymore. My cover-up was gone - thanks Remy, so no makeup, and my hair is in a half dishevelled pony tail with a blue spot on my head from the dye. I look and feel like a hot mess and that doesn't help my mood.

I go see wiggers today, and Ill tell him that I *do* feel better. But at what cost? I still don't feel like me. I still feel far away. Still feel padded. But still feel down. IDK...it is an improvement.

Its taking so much effort.

Sunday, 6 November 2011

Something Kinda Normal Fell Apart

Yesterday was apparently a success! I only hid upstairs once, only took one ativan, and only cried 4 times...that's a success for me now. Yay! It's so stupid. This whole thing is so stupid.

Today I woke up, and could not make myself get out of bed. I didn't even feel that tired anymore but I couldn't actually care to get out of bed. So I laid there, hid under my blankets and listened to Andrea parent - and felt more and more guilty as time went on. Even after my extended break I couldn't handle life. The house is in a constant state of chaos and mess and I can't do it. I can't be present with all the kids, can't clean all the messes - yet if I sit and do nothing than all I feel is anger, rage, and eventually overwhelming depression. I almost got there this morning..

And then I cleaned. And I attemped to saw a tire - and I got myself through it - yay, but in doing so I made Andrea cranky or whatever with me. And then we briefly talked about Christmas and I was something and irritated. And its all just stupid.

I just want to quit. I want to run away and be done. I am not even so depressed that I am crying all the time. But...I still do hate myself, even when I try to give myself permission to not. I still dont wan't to leave the bedroom ever. I still wish I could cease to exist and not have to deal with any of this. But I'm still here. Still hiding. Still suriving.

And this is better...

Friday, 4 November 2011

Envy

I look around and I see so many people that have things that I want. Maybe that's why I'm depressed and can't get over it. I am not happy with what I have - so I just keep beating myself up over it. I could be better at some things, I could be thinner, I could be more motivated, I could be, I could be, I could be. I have all of these things that I know I *could be* if only I could make myself do them, try them, or learn them. But I don't - because I lack motivation. The lack of motivation causes me to not do them, which causes me to feel worse, which causes even less motivation. How do I break the cycle?

I have my seroquel in my bag. All of them. It's a nice and scary feeling of control and power.

I sit at work not caring about it, thinking of all the things I'd actually like to do tonight - looking forward to them in a way even...and yet I know, I know, the second I get home (or within 30 minutes) I'm going to be done, I'm not going to be able to handle it - and that will be the end of my evening and I will do none of those things.

I so want to finish the sweater that is now for Remy - even though it doesnt suit her in the slightest, and will not be getting ruffles. I so want to do a work out, thrash my way through it, be sweaty and tired, but feel amazing. I so want to start another sweater for Kahlan, another big project - something not finicky. I so want to sit and watch something and look forward to not working the weekend.

None of those things will happen. I will end up crying, end up contemplating killing myself, and probably go to bed early again. The jury is still out on whether I'll get out of bed tomorrow.

I hate wanting something so badly - but knowing it isn't going to happen.

I'm still waiting on that turning point. I still keep trying again - though its taking more and more effort to do so.

I want to live on Ativan.

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Today - Redux

It takes me until about 2:00p to come out of some sort of fog. The type of feeling where I'm but a small part of myself. Even after the fog clears I still feel slightly unsteady walking, still slightly far away, still not quite all here. Of all the meds though, this one seems to be the most outwardly effective. I don't cry like I used to, I'm not down like I used to be.

But...

That's only external. The suicidal thoughts are still there. They feel less impulsive. More like I am able to actually make a plan and carry it out instead of acting on a whim. The thoughts make more logical sense. I still can't actually write down the ones I had last night - they are too terrible to actually put somewhere where someone, someday, could read them. I know what they are - and that's bad enough.

I feel more normal I guess. In the sense that my negativity and downness is normal - it simply is what it is and this is my life. That is depressing. Maybe I need to fight harder?

I'm scared to go home. I almost want to take a preventative atavan. Just to pre-numb myself, just to enjoy one night without getting stressed or overwhelmed. Enjoy my family - be happy - even if its fake and even if it will wear off. If I had access to them I would take them, but how can I ask Andrea to medicate me when I don't need it. I just want to because I don't want to risk feeling bad. I think that's a legitimate fear.

I actually had a moment last night where I woke up - obviously half asleep and still quite intoxicated from the seroquel - where I rolled over and saw Andrea and got this overwhelming thankful feeling. I was elated, or as elated as one can be in that state that she was there. I remember wanting to reach out and touch her and thank her for being there. I was honestly surprised, and I don't know why, that she was there. It was such a sense of euphoria. I hope I actually did reach out for her, and tell her I was happy she was there.

I need to make this all up to her somehow. Need to make it up to the kids. I guess I need to make it up to myself as well - but I'm at the bottom of my list and that's half the battle.

Scared of Myself

I am scared of myself, and my own thoughts. I am scared of what they mean. I am scared I will never recover from how they make me feel. I am scared I will never get better at all.

Seroquel puts me in a weird far away padded like state. I don't feel connected to my body or my head. I feel internally overwhelmed and externally numb.

I thought the hospital and slow integration would be enough - but I am scared I have just fallen further down the rabbit hole.

She is only happy sometimes. She isn't sure we will ever get our life back.

I am scared.

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

Back at Work

I feel so off and awful today. I want to stay in bed. I am angry. I am cranky. I want to quit my job. I want to quit life.

Craig and Andrea talk about me behind my back. More to the point Craig is afraid to talk to me so he brings all his concerns or whatever to Andrea who then relays them in the nicest way she knows how, to me. So craig will never say anything - and Andrea is forced to. So I end up feeling irritated at the both of them.

On top of that, they have hired two new people at work, and with my work level already suffering because of my depression I feel its only a matter of time before I get fired - so much for that raise. Whats the point?

My insides are all quivery, and things just don't feel right in my body. I can't explain it in a way that makes sense. Maybe that's how seroquel is supposed to make me feel. I still feel feelings though - I've already cried.

To show them, or something - I really dont know what, I used the little knife that I had to ask for permission to use to cut my leg. It was a crappy cut and it took a long time because those fuckers aren't that sharp - and they will never know, but I had to do it. Had to exert some control.

Maybe that's my depression, and it probably is, but idk - I had to do it.

I feel like everyone thinks I'm not capable of anything. And maybe I'm not. Maybe I need someone to tell me what I can and cant do for a little while - but then they need to tell me that instead of just acting that way.

This is all just stupid. I feel less like me than I have in a very long time, I'm not anywhere near as suicidal as I was - or at least not as sadly suicidal as I was, but I don't feel like me at all. And maybe that's why I'm angry. Because the me that exists somewhere is screaming to get out but just cant.

I miss me.

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Things Taken Away

So before I left the hospital my psychiatrist told Andrea to "proof" the house from me. I figured she would take away the scissors I use to cut, but hope that she wouldnt - she did. I know why she did - it makes sense.

I went to go make the kids lunch today and there were no knives. I'm actually not allowed access to utensils to cook my own kids food. I am not mad at her. At all. I know why she did and it. And its smart that she did - becuase I have used each of those knives to cut, and have determined that none of them are sharp enough to slit my wrists - but it still sucks to know that I am not mentally stable enough to even be allowed access to common items needed to prepare my own children food.

Whats worse is Craig knew about it too. In fact they had this whole exchange; the awkward silence of they both knew where they were, and knew that I hadn't yet realized they were missing because of me. I feel both embarrassed for not knowing they were taken away for my sake, and ashamed because they have to be taken away for my sake.

What has my life become? So many things have been taken away from me. I have very little left to lose.

The double dose of seroquel didn't make me drowsy. I felt a little heavy headed - but nothing like I was expecting. I go up to 150mg tonight. Im not worried - I'm just done.