I've been thinking about an ended relationship lately. It was a relationship I ended, that I had good reasons to end, and that I still think should lay dead in the dirt. What I didn't really expect was the sense of loss I would have.
If you are a somewhat regular reader of my blog here, you may remember the many references to my best friend, or "platonic life partner (PHP)" as I often referred to her. That person is no longer in my life. I won't go into any details here, because some people may know her, and my reasons for ending the friendship are my own. What I will say is that I burnt that bridge; I blew the damn thing to smithereens and watched as the embers burned to ash. I wasn't particularly nice about it. I wanted it to burn.
I knew that this friendship needed to end, and I knew that if I was kind when severing ties there would be a fairly sure chance that I would find myself in the friendship again. So I made it hurt; not for me, but for her. I said some good things, and all of what I said had good intentions somewhere behind them, but I knew some ways of saying things that were sure to ignite red hot anger and maybe even hatred. When you are close to someone for a long time, you learn what actions and words will ignite certain feelings, and during the friendship you work to be sure that you aren't using this power for evil. Since I saw the friendship as over, I decided that I needed to use whatever means necessary to keep myself safe from a friendship relapse. And I don't regret it; at least, not all of it. I wish I hadn't needed to be mean and that the friendship hadn't dissolved to where it had, and I don't necessarily like that I am someone who intentionally tried to hurt someone else.
It's been roughly five months since that all happened. I now feel the loss. I miss her two children like crazy, and I wonder if they ever think of me. I think of holding them as babies, playing with them, reading to them, hugging them, and laughing with them. I even miss the times I helped to discipline them or support her while she was dealing with problem behaviors. I wonder how they are doing, who they are around, how are they being influenced to act and behave, who is influencing them? It's a by-product of the ended friendship that I will not know more of these children that have a special place in my heart, reserved only for them.
I also miss the dogs. Dog #1 was amazing beyond words, and loved me without question. Dog #2 had such potential, needed so much love, and in her puppy way tried to be all that dog #1 is.
So that is where I am at right now. I've never really had to deal with the loss of a person that I willingly turned away from, and I have to admit that I miss things connected with that person more than the person herself. The things that made me leave are still there, still valid, and barring an almost complete change in the other person, my decision remains the right one . Someday, hopefully, the bad memories will fade and I will remember more of the good, and I will be able to forgive so that I can hold no ill-feelings in myself.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Monday, December 26, 2011
Glimpsing Some Light
I survived my first Christmas away from my family.
Even writing that sentence fills me with amazement. That definitely is not what I had envisioned happening, and certainly not as a single woman. Ah, but therein lies the key; I was not really single this Christmas. As always, my Savior was with me. Also, despite my destitute lack of ability to give gifts, I was able to recieve in abundace with humbleness. I am lucky to live with the friends I do, people who care enough about me to love me despite my depressing, oppositional, and at times completely senseless behavior.
I think that it is hard to see myself as loveable most of the time. I really am quite a needy person. I need to hear that I am loved or missed quite often before I will allow myself to believe what seems to me an impossibility. I have a hard time interpreting actions towards me as signs of love and kindness, and will often interpret them as pity or people merely "putting up with me". If I were to sit and really give it a thought, I would most likely come up with a longer list of people who care for me than I would think possible. I should probably actually do that, as it would also serve to remind me of the need to tell other people that I care about them and miss them, too. I could be an awfully mushy person if I let myself.
Well, if you get an email, facebook message, letter, note, postcard, text, phone call, or some sort of communication from me, feel special. It means that I have stepped out of myself for a moment to actually communicate the feelings I keep inside. I do have quite a few stamps and ample time while recovering from my back being a jerk, plus I am learning how to make fun things with yarn. This could be awesome.
Even writing that sentence fills me with amazement. That definitely is not what I had envisioned happening, and certainly not as a single woman. Ah, but therein lies the key; I was not really single this Christmas. As always, my Savior was with me. Also, despite my destitute lack of ability to give gifts, I was able to recieve in abundace with humbleness. I am lucky to live with the friends I do, people who care enough about me to love me despite my depressing, oppositional, and at times completely senseless behavior.
I think that it is hard to see myself as loveable most of the time. I really am quite a needy person. I need to hear that I am loved or missed quite often before I will allow myself to believe what seems to me an impossibility. I have a hard time interpreting actions towards me as signs of love and kindness, and will often interpret them as pity or people merely "putting up with me". If I were to sit and really give it a thought, I would most likely come up with a longer list of people who care for me than I would think possible. I should probably actually do that, as it would also serve to remind me of the need to tell other people that I care about them and miss them, too. I could be an awfully mushy person if I let myself.
Well, if you get an email, facebook message, letter, note, postcard, text, phone call, or some sort of communication from me, feel special. It means that I have stepped out of myself for a moment to actually communicate the feelings I keep inside. I do have quite a few stamps and ample time while recovering from my back being a jerk, plus I am learning how to make fun things with yarn. This could be awesome.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Prayer. Oh, Prayer.
The Bible says to pray without ceasing and to pray with complete faith that your prayer will be answered, but I don't think I'm all that sure about how that goes. I have a really hard time concentrating when I'm praying by myself, especially when I'm alone. Sometimes it's actually better in a crowded room of people, but I feel like either way there's a lot of doubt involved in my praying.
I'm not sure how to really explain my prayer situations, but I'll try to anyway. Picture me sitting in my room, usually on my bed, somtimes sitting on the floor or kneeling. I've at least put my phone on silent and at a distance from me, so I won't pick it up if it happens to move. Sometimes I just shut the sound and vibrate off so that there is nothing to hear. I try to get rid of any books, noise, annoying smells, or images so that I can focus on the task at hand. Sometimes I turn off the lights, sometimes I turn them all on. I then start to talk to God using my head instead of my voice. Then I hear a car go by, or a cat meow, a dog bark, the wind whistle, sirens, someone in the other room, someone in another apartment, doors closing and opening, and absolutely any sound that can possibly be heard by the human ear. That's when my mind starts to follow these sounds and drifts off into bunny trails of thought while I'm "talking" to God.
Now, if I can catch myself quick enough, I will usually try to pray out loud, but I end up tripping on my words and feeling like God and I are having a really weird coffee date, especially if I'm in my pajamas laying in bed. The prayer usually ends shortly after I open my mouth, thus ending my tries at praying without ceasing.
It's always been nice at church when the pastor gives the congregation that time for...I can't remember the specific wording...I guess it would be "silent contemplation and prayer". I love these times. I feel like I can just pray away in my head, and even if I hear the annoying noises or smell the annoying smells, I just make them a part of my prayer. However, if you've ever been to church and the pastor has given this time, you know that it lasts less than 5 minutes; this short of a time span has never been adequate for me to finish searching my soul to contemplate and pray. I usually end with a quick. "We'll pick this up later. Love you," before re-joining everyone in a group prayer.
Above all of this is the doubt. Somtimes while I am praying, and almost always after I am finished, I am immediately swarmed with doubt. Did I ask for the right thing? Did I ask enough? Did I ask too much? Was I trying to inforce my own will upon God? Should I ask for that? Did I say thanks enough? Maybe I should have said thank you for more things that I asked for? This is really just scratching the surface of the self questioning that happens, and it seems to be the complete opposite of what the bible calls for. I think what I want would feel a lot like this looks:
I'm not sure how to really explain my prayer situations, but I'll try to anyway. Picture me sitting in my room, usually on my bed, somtimes sitting on the floor or kneeling. I've at least put my phone on silent and at a distance from me, so I won't pick it up if it happens to move. Sometimes I just shut the sound and vibrate off so that there is nothing to hear. I try to get rid of any books, noise, annoying smells, or images so that I can focus on the task at hand. Sometimes I turn off the lights, sometimes I turn them all on. I then start to talk to God using my head instead of my voice. Then I hear a car go by, or a cat meow, a dog bark, the wind whistle, sirens, someone in the other room, someone in another apartment, doors closing and opening, and absolutely any sound that can possibly be heard by the human ear. That's when my mind starts to follow these sounds and drifts off into bunny trails of thought while I'm "talking" to God.
Now, if I can catch myself quick enough, I will usually try to pray out loud, but I end up tripping on my words and feeling like God and I are having a really weird coffee date, especially if I'm in my pajamas laying in bed. The prayer usually ends shortly after I open my mouth, thus ending my tries at praying without ceasing.
It's always been nice at church when the pastor gives the congregation that time for...I can't remember the specific wording...I guess it would be "silent contemplation and prayer". I love these times. I feel like I can just pray away in my head, and even if I hear the annoying noises or smell the annoying smells, I just make them a part of my prayer. However, if you've ever been to church and the pastor has given this time, you know that it lasts less than 5 minutes; this short of a time span has never been adequate for me to finish searching my soul to contemplate and pray. I usually end with a quick. "We'll pick this up later. Love you," before re-joining everyone in a group prayer.
Above all of this is the doubt. Somtimes while I am praying, and almost always after I am finished, I am immediately swarmed with doubt. Did I ask for the right thing? Did I ask enough? Did I ask too much? Was I trying to inforce my own will upon God? Should I ask for that? Did I say thanks enough? Maybe I should have said thank you for more things that I asked for? This is really just scratching the surface of the self questioning that happens, and it seems to be the complete opposite of what the bible calls for. I think what I want would feel a lot like this looks:
So if you read this, and you have any advice whatsoever on the topic, I beg of you to comment. If you know me, send me a message. Anything. Oh, and if you happen to know if there's any way of being sure that you are hearing God and not your own personal desires, that would be super cool. I seem to have forgotten things I thought I knew.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Sometimes Going Forward Requires Taking a Step Back
If I have any wisdom to dispense to anyone, it is the following:
1. Pretending to be happy is absolutely exhausting. If you aren't happy, don't try to fake it, things will only get hurt. Rather, you need to be honest about what you are feeling and search everywhere you can for someone who is willing and able to listen to you and/or help you.
2. If you are depressed - so depressed that you can't get out of bed and do the simplest acts, like bathing yourself - don't think it can't get any worse. It can. I would recommend reminding yourself that it can get worse. Don't imaging specific scenarios or tell yourself that there are other people out there who have it worse off than you; that will get you to obsess about the negative possibilities or feel tremendous guilt over not being involved in social justice issues. Those things don't matter. Getting out of bed matters. Why? Because it can get worse, and it will if you stay in bed.
3. If you have hit that moment where killing yourself sounds like the best idea possible, when you are even imagining killing yourself just to stay calm, dont' actually try to kill yourself. I really want this one to be clear; it ties in with #2 up there. If you try to kill yourself and do not succeed (and lets face it, you're depressed to the point of irrational thinking, so your chances of success in this venture are actually quite lower than you realize) you will find that things are far worse than you ever could have imagined.
You see, the people you already alienated by listening to the negative voice in your head saying, "No one likes me. Poor me," actually do like you, or at least did when you weren't stewing in your own mental anguish, and they're going to be pretty pissed off that you tried to kill yourself. I know this seems far fetched, but they will be hurt and angry with you. The real downside of this is that you are going to need your family and friends more than you ever have before, because you have fallen off a pretty high cliff and are now trying to find a foothold in roaring rapids. There is no way you will get better by yourself, but you are going to have to grip a wet and slippery rock so you can drag your sorry ass out of the water long enough to wave for help with a white flag of surrender. In order to get the help you need, you are going to have to find some way to show people that you want to live and that you have a sincere wish to change. Then you are going to have to wait for them to believe it.
Why am I sharing all of this? Because I'm still dealing with the fallout of trying to kill myself (obviously I was depressed to the point of irrational thinking, so by chances of success in that venture were actually quite lower than I realized, and I failed). I went to the hospital, made choices based on emotions and what I thought other people wanted me to do, and moved away from my support system (which I had, they were just burnt out and tired). Not only that, I then proceeded to dump the entirety of my crazy onto just two people...which is not a kind thing to do. After trying to be happy in just about every wrong way, I see that I need my friends and family like never before.
So now I seem to have come almost full circle. I can't really do much because my physical health has deteriorated (thanks for slipping again, discs in my back - and also to you fibromyalgia for being the worst you ever have been) and I am so very lonely. All I can think of are hugs from my family, going to church with my sisters, and drinking some Bud Light amongst the best group I ever worked with. I'm coming home, but I don't know when. I still don't have money, and I don't necessarily have a place to live once I get home, yet that would seem to be the place I need to be. Hopefully I can figure this one out soon, and also stop crying every day so I can be a bit more productive.
Oh, and:
4. If your dad has doubts about a life altering decision you are making, listen to him. Good dads are right 99.9999999999999999% of the time, but they can't always swoop in and save you if you make the wrong choice.
1. Pretending to be happy is absolutely exhausting. If you aren't happy, don't try to fake it, things will only get hurt. Rather, you need to be honest about what you are feeling and search everywhere you can for someone who is willing and able to listen to you and/or help you.
2. If you are depressed - so depressed that you can't get out of bed and do the simplest acts, like bathing yourself - don't think it can't get any worse. It can. I would recommend reminding yourself that it can get worse. Don't imaging specific scenarios or tell yourself that there are other people out there who have it worse off than you; that will get you to obsess about the negative possibilities or feel tremendous guilt over not being involved in social justice issues. Those things don't matter. Getting out of bed matters. Why? Because it can get worse, and it will if you stay in bed.
3. If you have hit that moment where killing yourself sounds like the best idea possible, when you are even imagining killing yourself just to stay calm, dont' actually try to kill yourself. I really want this one to be clear; it ties in with #2 up there. If you try to kill yourself and do not succeed (and lets face it, you're depressed to the point of irrational thinking, so your chances of success in this venture are actually quite lower than you realize) you will find that things are far worse than you ever could have imagined.
You see, the people you already alienated by listening to the negative voice in your head saying, "No one likes me. Poor me," actually do like you, or at least did when you weren't stewing in your own mental anguish, and they're going to be pretty pissed off that you tried to kill yourself. I know this seems far fetched, but they will be hurt and angry with you. The real downside of this is that you are going to need your family and friends more than you ever have before, because you have fallen off a pretty high cliff and are now trying to find a foothold in roaring rapids. There is no way you will get better by yourself, but you are going to have to grip a wet and slippery rock so you can drag your sorry ass out of the water long enough to wave for help with a white flag of surrender. In order to get the help you need, you are going to have to find some way to show people that you want to live and that you have a sincere wish to change. Then you are going to have to wait for them to believe it.
Why am I sharing all of this? Because I'm still dealing with the fallout of trying to kill myself (obviously I was depressed to the point of irrational thinking, so by chances of success in that venture were actually quite lower than I realized, and I failed). I went to the hospital, made choices based on emotions and what I thought other people wanted me to do, and moved away from my support system (which I had, they were just burnt out and tired). Not only that, I then proceeded to dump the entirety of my crazy onto just two people...which is not a kind thing to do. After trying to be happy in just about every wrong way, I see that I need my friends and family like never before.
So now I seem to have come almost full circle. I can't really do much because my physical health has deteriorated (thanks for slipping again, discs in my back - and also to you fibromyalgia for being the worst you ever have been) and I am so very lonely. All I can think of are hugs from my family, going to church with my sisters, and drinking some Bud Light amongst the best group I ever worked with. I'm coming home, but I don't know when. I still don't have money, and I don't necessarily have a place to live once I get home, yet that would seem to be the place I need to be. Hopefully I can figure this one out soon, and also stop crying every day so I can be a bit more productive.
Oh, and:
4. If your dad has doubts about a life altering decision you are making, listen to him. Good dads are right 99.9999999999999999% of the time, but they can't always swoop in and save you if you make the wrong choice.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
A Change of Self
I have changed. I thought about going to the last blog post I made, back in the last week of August, so that I could see just how much I had changed, but I decided to get on with writing instead.
It is interesting to note what I see as changes in myself. I can't say that I am happy with each change. I did not expect myself to change in certain ways, and it comes as a surprise to me that I have let things slip through my charachter or personality the way that I have.
I'm not talking as much. Don't get me wrong on this one; I wasn't talking that much when I was back in Nebraska, and I spent most of my time alone watching television. What's different is that I am not talking when I get the chance to talk. I feel that I used to be a bit more free with my words, even if that wasn't always a good thing. Now it seems that I am afraid to speak. I have gone from being a woman who shares her mind and emotions, to a woman who spends her time thinking over how to react appropriately to the emotions of others. I don't believe it's bad to think of the emotions of others, but it has become a single preoccupation of mine. Every look, silence, word, action is heavy with meaning - and it all seems to mean that I have done something inappropriate, hurt someone, or inconvenienced someone. I didn't care quite as much about that before; I was a sort of dominating presence that influenced her needs and wants onto the people around her. I am now dominated far more frequently.
I have also hidden away a part of myself. My spirituality and religion is now at the quietest point it has been since my teen years. It isn't as if I do not acknowledge this part of myself, but that I worry over offending someone else by expressing this part of myself. Most times I find it irritating and the rest of the time I feel highly disappointed in myself. I have to get this back.
I wish there was a way to lay the blame for this on something tangible and present, but it seems to come from the absence of things. Without my family, I no longer feel strong in my identity as a leader; I am no longer the eldest, but the newest. Without a church family I feel adrift and uncertain, lost in a sea of emotion that threatens to make me forget the things I am rationally and logically sure of. Without a community of friends I feel lonely. Without a best friend I feel incomplete.
I suppose that I will need to find out how I will define myself when set apart from all that is familiar and comfortable. Therapy starts next week. Let the ride begin again.
It is interesting to note what I see as changes in myself. I can't say that I am happy with each change. I did not expect myself to change in certain ways, and it comes as a surprise to me that I have let things slip through my charachter or personality the way that I have.
I'm not talking as much. Don't get me wrong on this one; I wasn't talking that much when I was back in Nebraska, and I spent most of my time alone watching television. What's different is that I am not talking when I get the chance to talk. I feel that I used to be a bit more free with my words, even if that wasn't always a good thing. Now it seems that I am afraid to speak. I have gone from being a woman who shares her mind and emotions, to a woman who spends her time thinking over how to react appropriately to the emotions of others. I don't believe it's bad to think of the emotions of others, but it has become a single preoccupation of mine. Every look, silence, word, action is heavy with meaning - and it all seems to mean that I have done something inappropriate, hurt someone, or inconvenienced someone. I didn't care quite as much about that before; I was a sort of dominating presence that influenced her needs and wants onto the people around her. I am now dominated far more frequently.
I have also hidden away a part of myself. My spirituality and religion is now at the quietest point it has been since my teen years. It isn't as if I do not acknowledge this part of myself, but that I worry over offending someone else by expressing this part of myself. Most times I find it irritating and the rest of the time I feel highly disappointed in myself. I have to get this back.
I wish there was a way to lay the blame for this on something tangible and present, but it seems to come from the absence of things. Without my family, I no longer feel strong in my identity as a leader; I am no longer the eldest, but the newest. Without a church family I feel adrift and uncertain, lost in a sea of emotion that threatens to make me forget the things I am rationally and logically sure of. Without a community of friends I feel lonely. Without a best friend I feel incomplete.
I suppose that I will need to find out how I will define myself when set apart from all that is familiar and comfortable. Therapy starts next week. Let the ride begin again.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Jumping off cliffs is good for the soul.
"And this is how I choose to live, as if I'm jumping off a cliff
Knowing that You'll save me, knowing that you'll save me
And after all the stupid things I did, there's nothing left there to forgive
Because You already forgave me, yeah You already forgave me"
That right there is a line from the Relient K song "Death and Taxes." I love Relient K. It seems that one of their albums fits right in with my life at any given time. They get me.
I was thinking about fearlessness today. There is a good reason for this; I went head to head with about a trillion spiders to clean the basement at my Grandmother's house. Now I am by no means afraid of spiders - while living with my mom and younger sisters as a teenager I was the designated killer of anything creepy crawly - but by the time I had vacuumed up my billionth egg sack, I was getting a little paranoid that some huge mama spider was going to magically appear and bite my head off. Yet, I persevered, and my Grandma's basement looks as homey and inviting as it did when I was little.
It's the little victories like the one above that are keeping me going right now. I stand prepared to take a huge leap of faith in my life, and so far my courage hasn't failed me. So far.
I think the hardest thing about leaving will be the separation from my dad and youngest sister. My dad commented on Sunday, in a quiet and sullen way, "I don't want you to go." Talk about having your heart wrenched out and poked with tiny sticks. Dad doesn't share how he's feeling often, but apparently he has even been telling my Grandma that he's already starting to miss me. I can tell that he's trying to stay strong for me, which only makes me love him more. It means a lot that my father is willing to help me do something good for myself at the expense of his own comfort.
My little sister is showing her love in a different way. She clings to me when we are with each other, and demands several hugs before I am allowed to leave her presence. She doesn't want me to leave - unless I take her with me. Someday she'll know that it was primarily for fear of missing out on huge chunks of her growing up that I have stayed here as long as I have. I don't know what it's like to leave a child, but I imagine my feelings about leaving her are very near to the feeling of having to leave one's own child behind.
Despite all of this, I know that I am on the right path. Leaving now is what I need to do in order to restore my sanity, regrow the piece of my heart that was torn away over the past couple of years, and get back to what I know I can be. When I was in the hospital, everyone said it was time to "be selfish" and take care of myself instead of trying to fix/control those around me. Good advice, but hard for someone who looks at selfishness as if it is the worst sin a human could commit. This would be where the fearlessness comes in. In trying something new and different from the way I've always done it, I am throwing caution to the wind and saying that I can forge ahead into the great unknown. There is no room for fear where I am headed; in fact if fear pops up it's ugly head in my way, I'll kill it with the knowledge that I have a safety net. His name is Jesus.
So like the song says, this is how I choose to live. I am making a conscious decision to jump off the cliff that is the dead end my mind brought me to, and trust that I will be saved as I fall. (Side note: That image is totally used in the book "The Silver Chair" when Eustace and Jill have a moment on a clifftop and Aslan helps them to fall to Narnia. C.S. Lewis is awesome)
That's all I have for tonight. More on the morrow.
Knowing that You'll save me, knowing that you'll save me
And after all the stupid things I did, there's nothing left there to forgive
Because You already forgave me, yeah You already forgave me"
That right there is a line from the Relient K song "Death and Taxes." I love Relient K. It seems that one of their albums fits right in with my life at any given time. They get me.
I was thinking about fearlessness today. There is a good reason for this; I went head to head with about a trillion spiders to clean the basement at my Grandmother's house. Now I am by no means afraid of spiders - while living with my mom and younger sisters as a teenager I was the designated killer of anything creepy crawly - but by the time I had vacuumed up my billionth egg sack, I was getting a little paranoid that some huge mama spider was going to magically appear and bite my head off. Yet, I persevered, and my Grandma's basement looks as homey and inviting as it did when I was little.
It's the little victories like the one above that are keeping me going right now. I stand prepared to take a huge leap of faith in my life, and so far my courage hasn't failed me. So far.
I think the hardest thing about leaving will be the separation from my dad and youngest sister. My dad commented on Sunday, in a quiet and sullen way, "I don't want you to go." Talk about having your heart wrenched out and poked with tiny sticks. Dad doesn't share how he's feeling often, but apparently he has even been telling my Grandma that he's already starting to miss me. I can tell that he's trying to stay strong for me, which only makes me love him more. It means a lot that my father is willing to help me do something good for myself at the expense of his own comfort.
My little sister is showing her love in a different way. She clings to me when we are with each other, and demands several hugs before I am allowed to leave her presence. She doesn't want me to leave - unless I take her with me. Someday she'll know that it was primarily for fear of missing out on huge chunks of her growing up that I have stayed here as long as I have. I don't know what it's like to leave a child, but I imagine my feelings about leaving her are very near to the feeling of having to leave one's own child behind.
Despite all of this, I know that I am on the right path. Leaving now is what I need to do in order to restore my sanity, regrow the piece of my heart that was torn away over the past couple of years, and get back to what I know I can be. When I was in the hospital, everyone said it was time to "be selfish" and take care of myself instead of trying to fix/control those around me. Good advice, but hard for someone who looks at selfishness as if it is the worst sin a human could commit. This would be where the fearlessness comes in. In trying something new and different from the way I've always done it, I am throwing caution to the wind and saying that I can forge ahead into the great unknown. There is no room for fear where I am headed; in fact if fear pops up it's ugly head in my way, I'll kill it with the knowledge that I have a safety net. His name is Jesus.
So like the song says, this is how I choose to live. I am making a conscious decision to jump off the cliff that is the dead end my mind brought me to, and trust that I will be saved as I fall. (Side note: That image is totally used in the book "The Silver Chair" when Eustace and Jill have a moment on a clifftop and Aslan helps them to fall to Narnia. C.S. Lewis is awesome)
That's all I have for tonight. More on the morrow.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
So communication is supposed to go two ways?
Well, the waiting is over and the action of getting everything taken care of for the move is upon me. My biggest packing worry is finding another piece of luggage, which should be relatively easy, and washing my clothes before the final day packing. Other than that, I've been thinking a lot of the relationships that will be changing.
I've never been very good at keeping communication going with friendships and family, but I like to think I've been slowly and steadily getting better over the years. I call people back more often, I try to keep in touch through various forms of media, and I even text people back within about a day. These are fantastic strides in my effort to think of other people, which I hope can keep going when the bulk of my friends and family are quite a few states away.
One thing I've had to face recently is the reality of how I've made people feel by unintentionally ignoring them. See, I've found in a couple friendships that I've been putting in a lot more effort than the other person. It can look a lot of different ways; mostly it's little things, like me being the only one making phone calls or plans. Sure the other person will return my calls (sometimes), and they might call to make a change to the plans, but for the most part I'm the one doing the reaching out. To add a little salt to the wound, they'll usually comment on some funny Facebook post or send a trivial text message right as I've decided I'll just give up altogether.
I've said goodbye to one of these friendships, and it felt good to say that I wasn't going to be putting effort into something that wasn't really appreciated and definitely not reciprocated. It made me wonder if maybe some of the blame lay with me. I could have chosen to extend my energy towards those people who were waiting with acceptance and giving hearts, but instead I chose to waste it on people who didn't care as much for me as I thought they did. It makes me feel more than a bit guilty as I sit here and think of relationships lost because I was the one that seemed not to care.
I've decided that from now on, I'm going to try showing as much love as I can to those people who've shown love to me. I'll become a letter writing, emailing, phone calling machine - one that hopefully receives letters, emails, and phone calls as well as putting them out there. I think it will be a good start in getting back to the me that had a big heart and was able to love "even the least of these." I expect that after a time my learned cynicism towards most of mankind will fade away, and I'll be able to replace it with a hefty dose of mercy and grace for my fellow man. And this is just one part of the growing and learning that I hope and believe will happen when I find my way out of this rut and get down to the real business of living.
Now if only I can figure out how to communicate with tact...I'll be golden. Oh, and that friend that you just thought of who you haven't attempted to contact, give them a call - it'll make you feel good.
I've never been very good at keeping communication going with friendships and family, but I like to think I've been slowly and steadily getting better over the years. I call people back more often, I try to keep in touch through various forms of media, and I even text people back within about a day. These are fantastic strides in my effort to think of other people, which I hope can keep going when the bulk of my friends and family are quite a few states away.
One thing I've had to face recently is the reality of how I've made people feel by unintentionally ignoring them. See, I've found in a couple friendships that I've been putting in a lot more effort than the other person. It can look a lot of different ways; mostly it's little things, like me being the only one making phone calls or plans. Sure the other person will return my calls (sometimes), and they might call to make a change to the plans, but for the most part I'm the one doing the reaching out. To add a little salt to the wound, they'll usually comment on some funny Facebook post or send a trivial text message right as I've decided I'll just give up altogether.
I've said goodbye to one of these friendships, and it felt good to say that I wasn't going to be putting effort into something that wasn't really appreciated and definitely not reciprocated. It made me wonder if maybe some of the blame lay with me. I could have chosen to extend my energy towards those people who were waiting with acceptance and giving hearts, but instead I chose to waste it on people who didn't care as much for me as I thought they did. It makes me feel more than a bit guilty as I sit here and think of relationships lost because I was the one that seemed not to care.
I've decided that from now on, I'm going to try showing as much love as I can to those people who've shown love to me. I'll become a letter writing, emailing, phone calling machine - one that hopefully receives letters, emails, and phone calls as well as putting them out there. I think it will be a good start in getting back to the me that had a big heart and was able to love "even the least of these." I expect that after a time my learned cynicism towards most of mankind will fade away, and I'll be able to replace it with a hefty dose of mercy and grace for my fellow man. And this is just one part of the growing and learning that I hope and believe will happen when I find my way out of this rut and get down to the real business of living.
Now if only I can figure out how to communicate with tact...I'll be golden. Oh, and that friend that you just thought of who you haven't attempted to contact, give them a call - it'll make you feel good.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Waaaaaaaaaaait
I am not, by nature, a very patient person. I do not cope well with things taking longer than I think they should. This manifests itself many different ways in my day to day life; I get cranky in traffic, I curse people with my mind in lines, I leave projects unfinished, and I generally lose stamina for a task that seems to extend beyond fathomable limits.
Just now, I am somewhere in the middle of a wait. I had fully planned on being West coast bound by now, or at least have a ticket purchased for my move. Instead, I am waiting for a bed to sell so that I can afford said ticket. In the meantime there are plenty of things to get me frustrated and close to the complete explosion of my head, neck, and collarbone area - which I imagine would be a horribly time-consuming mess for someone else to have to clean up.
You see, when left to my own designs, I begin to doubt myself. I doubt decisions I make (or made), my ability to complete the task at hand, my judgement of circumstances, whether or not I have followed God or my own stubborn will, etc. The more time I am given to mull over doubt, the more I give myself over to it. Whether valid or not, I will latch on to small things and take them as signs of a mistake coming...a mistake of my own making which will have consequences unbearably dreary to deal with.
I sometimes wonder if the Lord will ever simply tire of my continued disagreement with His set time for things and just let me get on with having everything my own way. Then I remember that I am a beloved creation for whom God wants nothing but the best, and will indeed settle with nothing more than the best, that I can become. I realize that awful and awesome truth that I must yield my way to his, that I must bend my will lest the world break me.
So it's really quite harder than it looks, this waiting. Doing nothing has never cost me so much. But I must remember that there is an end; there is always an end. Eventually patience, persistence, and perseverance give way to their reward, whether it's what I've expected or not... and I have a feeling that during this current trial a great deal of trust will be required as well.
Just now, I am somewhere in the middle of a wait. I had fully planned on being West coast bound by now, or at least have a ticket purchased for my move. Instead, I am waiting for a bed to sell so that I can afford said ticket. In the meantime there are plenty of things to get me frustrated and close to the complete explosion of my head, neck, and collarbone area - which I imagine would be a horribly time-consuming mess for someone else to have to clean up.
You see, when left to my own designs, I begin to doubt myself. I doubt decisions I make (or made), my ability to complete the task at hand, my judgement of circumstances, whether or not I have followed God or my own stubborn will, etc. The more time I am given to mull over doubt, the more I give myself over to it. Whether valid or not, I will latch on to small things and take them as signs of a mistake coming...a mistake of my own making which will have consequences unbearably dreary to deal with.
I sometimes wonder if the Lord will ever simply tire of my continued disagreement with His set time for things and just let me get on with having everything my own way. Then I remember that I am a beloved creation for whom God wants nothing but the best, and will indeed settle with nothing more than the best, that I can become. I realize that awful and awesome truth that I must yield my way to his, that I must bend my will lest the world break me.
So it's really quite harder than it looks, this waiting. Doing nothing has never cost me so much. But I must remember that there is an end; there is always an end. Eventually patience, persistence, and perseverance give way to their reward, whether it's what I've expected or not... and I have a feeling that during this current trial a great deal of trust will be required as well.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Tossing and Turning
Tonight I cant sleep, because you are on my mind - so I'm going to write this as if I am writing to you. I'm going to say all the things that keep me awake and hit me in the middle of the day. May it give me peace.
I don't know if you know how I feel for you. I've never actually come out and explained it. I love you; mostly as a friend, but there are those feelings of Eros involved. I have felt this way a long time, even during times when I wouldn't see you for a while. I wouldn't think of you, then BAM, you were there and every feeling flooded right up to the surface.
You make me happy. Time spent with you is time that is happy for me. I can hope it's happy for you; I don't know for sure but I think it mostly is. This happiness had for a time led me to sort of make an idol of you; something I'm glad I figured out and prayed away. However, even when you're not an idol, you're presence in my day to day life (or lack of it) is keenly felt throughout the day.
I think the big problem is that I am unable to attract you physically, and perhaps a bit emotionally. The fact that I am (by worldly standards) a plain, obese woman is not in my favor. I could list a lot of physical faults, but I try to love them rather than dwell on them. Mentally, I am aware that I am a mess right now, and the getting better is slow going. Yet here's the deal. I get to be loved. I get to be adored. I get to be beautiful. I get to be pursued.
I feel that we have a connection, and it's frustrating that the lack of attraction or the awkward weirdness of some past situations is keeping me from...well, from claiming you as my own. I have never trusted attraction, because it's led me astray far too many times. A connection felt by both would be what people refer to as "in love". Because there are not two way romantic feelings, what I feel now that isn't covered by the love of friendship could be called the waiting reception of Eros - or something along that vein.
All of it aside, because of my love, I really want to see you happy. I would do almost anything to make that happen, including stepping aside so that another woman can have the place I wish so dearly to hold. That makes me feel good about my love, like there's a lack of total selfishness to it.
I'm leaving soon, and it sucks that that also means leaving where you are. I've probably already been clingy, and I'm sure that it's more than obvious from my actions how I feel. But it's good to get the feelings out in the open, rather than toss and turn at night or wander off into daydreams. More people should be honest about their emotions towards others. Maybe not in blog form, but in whatever way fits the situation and time.
And now that I come to my finish, I realize that maybe I didn't write this just for you. Maybe I also wrote it for the other people in my life who feel lonely-who feel the need to be adored, strong, loved, or beautiful-but are for whatever reason not the recipients of such favors. My heart goes out to those as I post this up and go to a much deserved sleep.
I don't know if you know how I feel for you. I've never actually come out and explained it. I love you; mostly as a friend, but there are those feelings of Eros involved. I have felt this way a long time, even during times when I wouldn't see you for a while. I wouldn't think of you, then BAM, you were there and every feeling flooded right up to the surface.
You make me happy. Time spent with you is time that is happy for me. I can hope it's happy for you; I don't know for sure but I think it mostly is. This happiness had for a time led me to sort of make an idol of you; something I'm glad I figured out and prayed away. However, even when you're not an idol, you're presence in my day to day life (or lack of it) is keenly felt throughout the day.
I think the big problem is that I am unable to attract you physically, and perhaps a bit emotionally. The fact that I am (by worldly standards) a plain, obese woman is not in my favor. I could list a lot of physical faults, but I try to love them rather than dwell on them. Mentally, I am aware that I am a mess right now, and the getting better is slow going. Yet here's the deal. I get to be loved. I get to be adored. I get to be beautiful. I get to be pursued.
I feel that we have a connection, and it's frustrating that the lack of attraction or the awkward weirdness of some past situations is keeping me from...well, from claiming you as my own. I have never trusted attraction, because it's led me astray far too many times. A connection felt by both would be what people refer to as "in love". Because there are not two way romantic feelings, what I feel now that isn't covered by the love of friendship could be called the waiting reception of Eros - or something along that vein.
All of it aside, because of my love, I really want to see you happy. I would do almost anything to make that happen, including stepping aside so that another woman can have the place I wish so dearly to hold. That makes me feel good about my love, like there's a lack of total selfishness to it.
I'm leaving soon, and it sucks that that also means leaving where you are. I've probably already been clingy, and I'm sure that it's more than obvious from my actions how I feel. But it's good to get the feelings out in the open, rather than toss and turn at night or wander off into daydreams. More people should be honest about their emotions towards others. Maybe not in blog form, but in whatever way fits the situation and time.
And now that I come to my finish, I realize that maybe I didn't write this just for you. Maybe I also wrote it for the other people in my life who feel lonely-who feel the need to be adored, strong, loved, or beautiful-but are for whatever reason not the recipients of such favors. My heart goes out to those as I post this up and go to a much deserved sleep.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Sometimes it's best to not succeed.
On July 23, 2011, I tried to kill myself. Seeing as I am still alive, it is obvious that I did not succeed in my endeavor. I got about halfway through the pills that I was taking, freaked out, woke my sister, and called 911. After having my stomach pumped at 1:00 am (which I don't recommend, because it is the farthest thing from an enjoyable experience I can think of) I sat in a hospital room falling in and out of sleep until being transferred to a Mental Health Treatment Center.
I could go on and on about the experiences I had there, relive some of the lows and exhalt in the highs, but that is for another time. Right now, I just feel glad to be alive. Ironically, the number of pills I had planned on taking would not have killed me, but it doesn't change the fact that I wanted my life on this world to end. I was not thinking rationally, but there was some logic in the arguments I had laid in front of myself during the previous month. Yes, this was a plan that had been in readiness for that long, just waiting for the right time. Now I can't believe that I wanted to throw my life away.
Things haven't miraculously changed. I'm still depressed, still anxious, and still have the same problems that I had before. The lonliness of feeling unloved still rears its ugly head, and in my self-conciousness I question whether people are sincere in their kind words to me. Yet I feel hope now. I have made plans for my life that I was afraid to before. I am leaving a situation that I need to get out of. I am setting out to blaze my own trail under the loving support of my favorite couple (you know who you are :) ) and it holds the possibility of things beyond what I could make happen on my own.
So two hours after my discharge, I say that I am going to live my life...and live it abundantly. I'm glad I failed at killing myself.
I'll be on here more later with more musings and details, as well as outcomes of things I have yet to face. Also, in two weeks, I plan to be in a different state...so things are going to be interesting.
I could go on and on about the experiences I had there, relive some of the lows and exhalt in the highs, but that is for another time. Right now, I just feel glad to be alive. Ironically, the number of pills I had planned on taking would not have killed me, but it doesn't change the fact that I wanted my life on this world to end. I was not thinking rationally, but there was some logic in the arguments I had laid in front of myself during the previous month. Yes, this was a plan that had been in readiness for that long, just waiting for the right time. Now I can't believe that I wanted to throw my life away.
Things haven't miraculously changed. I'm still depressed, still anxious, and still have the same problems that I had before. The lonliness of feeling unloved still rears its ugly head, and in my self-conciousness I question whether people are sincere in their kind words to me. Yet I feel hope now. I have made plans for my life that I was afraid to before. I am leaving a situation that I need to get out of. I am setting out to blaze my own trail under the loving support of my favorite couple (you know who you are :) ) and it holds the possibility of things beyond what I could make happen on my own.
So two hours after my discharge, I say that I am going to live my life...and live it abundantly. I'm glad I failed at killing myself.
I'll be on here more later with more musings and details, as well as outcomes of things I have yet to face. Also, in two weeks, I plan to be in a different state...so things are going to be interesting.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Little Starts
Yesterday sucked. I would like to come up with a better adjective for it, but suck is the best word that comes to mind. I was in deep depression mode, forgot to take my meds, had to drive to my dad's to borrow yet more money from him for an unforeseen expense (which wasted more of the gasoline quickly diminishing in my car's gas tank), missed dinner, then ate a lot grocery store sushi which really wasn't good at all. There were a few more things that added to the suck of a day, but I think I will keep a bit of it to myself.
So today I wanted to be productive. I put on my old flowy skirt with the bleach stain, which makes me feel pretty while I clean, and decided to pick up the apartment. I started by sitting in the recliner for a couple hours. Every time I got up things just seemed to overwhelm me so I would sit back down. I felt depressed because the house is a pit, but I didn't have any motivation to do anything. Then my sister had a meltdown about the paper she had to hand in at school today and I almost completely gave up on doing anything.
It was at this moment that I had the most genius plan of the century! I decided to do one small job, then sit down in the chair again. So I went over my sister's paper while she was off taking a test, and thanks to the fact that writing is pretty much the only thing I am better than her at academically I was able to tell her how to make it longer. Then I sat down. My next small project was to change out the bag in the trash can, then I sat down. After this I picked up all the trash and dishes in the living room, then sat down. I could go on, but I'm getting sick of writing "then sat down."
By the end of the day I had picked up in the living room, vacuumed, put away clean dishes, clean dirty pans, and load up the dishwasher. For me, this is quite the productive day at home. And it made me feel a bit better; being in a clean room feels a lot happier than being in a cluttered dirty room. I'm thinking of starting on my room tomorrow. There's a lot to do in there, but I think I can use my genius idea in that area as well. I'm supposed to have a safe place in the house where I can go when things are in negative vibe mode, and my room isn't exactly up to par right now. I also should get out of the house at some point, but we'll see how that goes. I'm a bit more content staying at home when it's clean and welcoming. Who knows, maybe I'll even be able to have company soon.
So today I wanted to be productive. I put on my old flowy skirt with the bleach stain, which makes me feel pretty while I clean, and decided to pick up the apartment. I started by sitting in the recliner for a couple hours. Every time I got up things just seemed to overwhelm me so I would sit back down. I felt depressed because the house is a pit, but I didn't have any motivation to do anything. Then my sister had a meltdown about the paper she had to hand in at school today and I almost completely gave up on doing anything.
It was at this moment that I had the most genius plan of the century! I decided to do one small job, then sit down in the chair again. So I went over my sister's paper while she was off taking a test, and thanks to the fact that writing is pretty much the only thing I am better than her at academically I was able to tell her how to make it longer. Then I sat down. My next small project was to change out the bag in the trash can, then I sat down. After this I picked up all the trash and dishes in the living room, then sat down. I could go on, but I'm getting sick of writing "then sat down."
By the end of the day I had picked up in the living room, vacuumed, put away clean dishes, clean dirty pans, and load up the dishwasher. For me, this is quite the productive day at home. And it made me feel a bit better; being in a clean room feels a lot happier than being in a cluttered dirty room. I'm thinking of starting on my room tomorrow. There's a lot to do in there, but I think I can use my genius idea in that area as well. I'm supposed to have a safe place in the house where I can go when things are in negative vibe mode, and my room isn't exactly up to par right now. I also should get out of the house at some point, but we'll see how that goes. I'm a bit more content staying at home when it's clean and welcoming. Who knows, maybe I'll even be able to have company soon.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Sex leads to dancing...
Whenever the topic of sex comes up in a conversation, I always think of the phrase "sex leads to dancing." It's meant to be a funny change up of something that had been said at the Christian college I attended, which was "dancing leads to sex." I don't really believe either statement, but it's a way to break the ice as we go into this subject.
First off, I am technically a virgin. I have never had sexual intercourse with a man. I've fooled around and regretted it, but that was 9 years ago and there's been nothing since. My virginity is something I have spent time being proud of, but now just gives me a lot to think about. Sex and I have had an up and down relationship.
When I was younger I was afraid of sex. First off, it didn't sound very fun when it was first explained to me. I was young so this was the normal reaction. However, by the age of 10, I hated sex. Sex broke up my parents and was therefore something very bad. I was informed that this was not the case all the time, just when the two people aren't married.
With that past, it was easy for me to jump on the "True Love Waits" bandwagon as a teenager. My dad bought me a promise ring, and I vowed that I would not have sex until I was married. This was not only done for my parents, but because it also seemed to be what God wanted me to do. I read in my bible about marriage, and it seemed that God was all for having sex with just one person.
It was easy for me to stick to this during most of my teens because there was no one that wanted to have sex with me and I wasn't really looking for it. Then I met a British guy over the internet, was in a relationship with him, and had oral sex with him when we were together. He had also wanted to save sex for marriage, but when tempted with it we caved quite easily. After breaking up and feeling guilty for what I did, he said that I had taken his virginity and made it OK for him to sleep with his next girlfriend. That guilt lasted for about two years and was extremely hard to get rid of.
After that relationship I was even more passionate about waiting until I was married to a man before we sexed each other up. It didn't matter if he was a virgin or not, just that we were "pure" until the exchanging of rings in front of friends and family. I promoted this to others, especially the girls in the youth group I helped to lead, and was not secretive about the experience I had in the past. It made it easier for other girls and women to talk with me about their own issues with sex, which I thought was pretty cool.
Yet now, the older I get, the more I wonder if it is worth it. I haven't been in a relationship with a man since I was 19, nor have I had any men interested in dating me. I sometimes wonder if this is due to my openness about waiting for marriage for sex; I can see where it would be kind of a turn off. My friends are sexually active, and I've even met Christians my age that love Jesus yet have had multiple sexual partners.
And it's not only that. I want to have sex. The fear of it I had when I was younger no longer remains. The women of my church that were open with me and willing to talk with me about sexual relationships helped me to get past that. I now feel that I am ready for a romantic relationship that involves physical affection. I'm not just ready, but I think about it a lot. When I say I want to have sex...I really mean it. A lot.
It all leads me to wonder if I should still be as worried about waiting for sex. I mean, is it worth it? Am I missing out on a wonderful life experience just because of some promise I made to God and my dad when I was 14? I don't know.
What I do know is that I still want to do what God wants me to - to follow His will. I think that at this age and period of my life, I'm willing to put my virginity on the back burner and pray that God guides me to where I need to be. I feel that God should be in every part of my life - even sex - so he should be in on the decision. I would hope that I find someone willing to discuss sex and pray about it. It's yet another unknown for the future, but it's one that is definitely on my mind a lot. I must say that I would really like to experience a man wanting to date me so I can at least get some kissing and snuggling...just to make the wait a bit easier.
First off, I am technically a virgin. I have never had sexual intercourse with a man. I've fooled around and regretted it, but that was 9 years ago and there's been nothing since. My virginity is something I have spent time being proud of, but now just gives me a lot to think about. Sex and I have had an up and down relationship.
When I was younger I was afraid of sex. First off, it didn't sound very fun when it was first explained to me. I was young so this was the normal reaction. However, by the age of 10, I hated sex. Sex broke up my parents and was therefore something very bad. I was informed that this was not the case all the time, just when the two people aren't married.
With that past, it was easy for me to jump on the "True Love Waits" bandwagon as a teenager. My dad bought me a promise ring, and I vowed that I would not have sex until I was married. This was not only done for my parents, but because it also seemed to be what God wanted me to do. I read in my bible about marriage, and it seemed that God was all for having sex with just one person.
It was easy for me to stick to this during most of my teens because there was no one that wanted to have sex with me and I wasn't really looking for it. Then I met a British guy over the internet, was in a relationship with him, and had oral sex with him when we were together. He had also wanted to save sex for marriage, but when tempted with it we caved quite easily. After breaking up and feeling guilty for what I did, he said that I had taken his virginity and made it OK for him to sleep with his next girlfriend. That guilt lasted for about two years and was extremely hard to get rid of.
After that relationship I was even more passionate about waiting until I was married to a man before we sexed each other up. It didn't matter if he was a virgin or not, just that we were "pure" until the exchanging of rings in front of friends and family. I promoted this to others, especially the girls in the youth group I helped to lead, and was not secretive about the experience I had in the past. It made it easier for other girls and women to talk with me about their own issues with sex, which I thought was pretty cool.
Yet now, the older I get, the more I wonder if it is worth it. I haven't been in a relationship with a man since I was 19, nor have I had any men interested in dating me. I sometimes wonder if this is due to my openness about waiting for marriage for sex; I can see where it would be kind of a turn off. My friends are sexually active, and I've even met Christians my age that love Jesus yet have had multiple sexual partners.
And it's not only that. I want to have sex. The fear of it I had when I was younger no longer remains. The women of my church that were open with me and willing to talk with me about sexual relationships helped me to get past that. I now feel that I am ready for a romantic relationship that involves physical affection. I'm not just ready, but I think about it a lot. When I say I want to have sex...I really mean it. A lot.
It all leads me to wonder if I should still be as worried about waiting for sex. I mean, is it worth it? Am I missing out on a wonderful life experience just because of some promise I made to God and my dad when I was 14? I don't know.
What I do know is that I still want to do what God wants me to - to follow His will. I think that at this age and period of my life, I'm willing to put my virginity on the back burner and pray that God guides me to where I need to be. I feel that God should be in every part of my life - even sex - so he should be in on the decision. I would hope that I find someone willing to discuss sex and pray about it. It's yet another unknown for the future, but it's one that is definitely on my mind a lot. I must say that I would really like to experience a man wanting to date me so I can at least get some kissing and snuggling...just to make the wait a bit easier.
Friday, May 13, 2011
The Storm
I am in a rare state of peace right now, which has brought with it some positive energy. I am writing this while lying on the floor in front of my open patio doors while a storm drives through outside. It’s probably not the best place to have an electronic device, but I wanted to write about what I am feeling right now.
The first thing I notice is the smell, which is pungent and earthy, and somehow reminds me of new beginnings. The thunder isn’t very loud, but almost like a low soothing growl – if a growl can be called soothing. The sound of the rain is for once drowning out the sound of the nearby interstate traffic, so I feel as if I am in my own little world. The lightning flashes to give glimpses of the sky while the wind brings the smells into the apartment. The trees outside seem to stretch out and accept the nourishing rain. With all of this I can close my eyes and feel at peace in the moment that is happening. I feel close to God.
I haven’t had these feelings for a while, so there’s also a sense of nostalgia to it all. I feel like anything is possible; all the negative is driven away with the wind and drowned in the rain. And even though I feel as if I am in my own little world, at the same time I feel connected.
The storm is moving off now, but the feelings are lingering behind, trailing as softly as the mist that rose from the heavy rains as they pelted the ground. And I realize there can be peace in a storm.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Isolating = No good
I had my first interview for some actual aid today. There is nothing more humbling than talking with a person about what you don't have, who has been paying your bills for you, and what is happening with the bills you can't afford to pay. I am going to call it practice for my upcoming interview for disability.
Having left the apartment today after being inside since Friday, I realize how much I was depending on day treatment to keep me stable. There's something about spending a long period of time away from people, and the everyday interactions that most take for granted; it puts you in a mental state that is hard to get out of. I cannot even begin to describe how much of nothing that I've been doing. In my defense, I was really sick and my fibromyalgia was in full swing, but how can a human being truly experience life in a messy apartment away from the world?
I sometimes think about Emily Dickenson. People think she is really cool and amazing, and her poems really are awesome, but she lived through letters and poetry while being a shut-in. I don't think I could do that. As much as my depression makes me want to hide away from the world around me, I want to be around people.
I have this desire in me to be around people paired with the inability to make it happen on the consistent basis that I want to. Such is life.
Right now, I think I just need to stay positive and try to get my bills paid. I can do this...and I'll keep writing as i go.
Having left the apartment today after being inside since Friday, I realize how much I was depending on day treatment to keep me stable. There's something about spending a long period of time away from people, and the everyday interactions that most take for granted; it puts you in a mental state that is hard to get out of. I cannot even begin to describe how much of nothing that I've been doing. In my defense, I was really sick and my fibromyalgia was in full swing, but how can a human being truly experience life in a messy apartment away from the world?
I sometimes think about Emily Dickenson. People think she is really cool and amazing, and her poems really are awesome, but she lived through letters and poetry while being a shut-in. I don't think I could do that. As much as my depression makes me want to hide away from the world around me, I want to be around people.
I have this desire in me to be around people paired with the inability to make it happen on the consistent basis that I want to. Such is life.
Right now, I think I just need to stay positive and try to get my bills paid. I can do this...and I'll keep writing as i go.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Sick Days
I am finally starting to get over being sick. My fever is gone, as least, so now I'm just trying to get the fibromyalgia under control by trying to get up and do a few simple things. I don't find it hard to take it slow, because I am kind of slow, but also my breathing isn't 100% yet so I get short of breath pretty easy.
I think the worse thing about being sick as an adult is the loneliness. My sisters had to work, and of course yesterday when I was doing really bad, everyone was celebrating Mothers Day. There were friends I could have had over, but our house is quite dirty and I didn't want to add embarrassment to sickness. In the end, my dad and sister got me some soup (Mrs Grass is the best when you're sick) and some orange juice. The soup was just the thing, and all I had to eat yesterday.
Another thing is that there is nothing on television. It was truly annoying. I tried to read, but my headache stopped that after about a paragraph. I listened to some music while I was trying to lower my fever with a lukewarm bath. Also, spending about an hour thinking about why it's called lukewarm instead of warm was somewhat fun. I would have called people, but the few people who had talked to me on the phone said they couldn't understand what I was saying. Apparently the coughing had me sounding like an old hag, which sounds just fine to me.
So that was my weekend. I'm hoping next weekend will be better.
I think the worse thing about being sick as an adult is the loneliness. My sisters had to work, and of course yesterday when I was doing really bad, everyone was celebrating Mothers Day. There were friends I could have had over, but our house is quite dirty and I didn't want to add embarrassment to sickness. In the end, my dad and sister got me some soup (Mrs Grass is the best when you're sick) and some orange juice. The soup was just the thing, and all I had to eat yesterday.
Another thing is that there is nothing on television. It was truly annoying. I tried to read, but my headache stopped that after about a paragraph. I listened to some music while I was trying to lower my fever with a lukewarm bath. Also, spending about an hour thinking about why it's called lukewarm instead of warm was somewhat fun. I would have called people, but the few people who had talked to me on the phone said they couldn't understand what I was saying. Apparently the coughing had me sounding like an old hag, which sounds just fine to me.
So that was my weekend. I'm hoping next weekend will be better.
Friday, May 6, 2011
A Bad Day
Today was a bad day. I have decided that instead of talking about what happened, I will give you all a peek at what goes through the head of someone with depression. After all, I started this blog so I could share what my mental illness is like...so here we go. This is what my brain tells me throughout the day.
"Fucking dumbass! I pushed the snooze button on your alarm too many times. How many fucking times do I have to do this shit before I know it makes me late for things that are fucking important."
"I feel like shit and I need to go home, and now they are probably going to discharge my ass from day treatment. Good job me, you're just a big fucking winner. Way to fail again."
"Great. The doctor is running late. What the fuck am I supposed to do to get out of this one? Should I leave? I can't even think straight. Fucking idiot. Way to leave a pair of kids at school. Hope you didn't enjoy that friendship you fucking nimrod."
"And now you got discharged from your day treatment...unsuccessfully. Great job loser. Do you ever finish anything? I mean really, try to think of one thing you finished.......and you can't because you're a loser."
"Dad is mad at me again because he has to pay for my meds the doc gave me. He wants me to get a job. Of course. Because I'm fucking lazy and can't do shit for myself. I should just stay in this fucking bed until I die. God please just let me die while I'm asleep, then all would be solved. Of course, there goes finishing anything again. Loser, loser, loser. And now you're alone, like you will be your whole life because people don't want to be around a fucking downer. I should call a friend but then they will think I'm a fucking nut job because I'm crying."
"I want food. Junk food. And a cigarette. I want to shove my face, then have a cigarette even though I'm sick. I just really don't care."
Eventually the negative thoughts stopped, mostly because I actually used my coping skills. That's what goes through my head though. Even though it was a bad day, I have had much worse, so the talk has been even worse.
I don't want any comments that say "I'm sorry you feel that way", or "You aren't a loser," because I already know that. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I know that at least 99% of the negative things that go through my head are lies. I didn't know what to write today, and I thought this would fit into my theme of showing what my recovery in mental illness is like.
"Fucking dumbass! I pushed the snooze button on your alarm too many times. How many fucking times do I have to do this shit before I know it makes me late for things that are fucking important."
"I feel like shit and I need to go home, and now they are probably going to discharge my ass from day treatment. Good job me, you're just a big fucking winner. Way to fail again."
"Great. The doctor is running late. What the fuck am I supposed to do to get out of this one? Should I leave? I can't even think straight. Fucking idiot. Way to leave a pair of kids at school. Hope you didn't enjoy that friendship you fucking nimrod."
"And now you got discharged from your day treatment...unsuccessfully. Great job loser. Do you ever finish anything? I mean really, try to think of one thing you finished.......and you can't because you're a loser."
"Dad is mad at me again because he has to pay for my meds the doc gave me. He wants me to get a job. Of course. Because I'm fucking lazy and can't do shit for myself. I should just stay in this fucking bed until I die. God please just let me die while I'm asleep, then all would be solved. Of course, there goes finishing anything again. Loser, loser, loser. And now you're alone, like you will be your whole life because people don't want to be around a fucking downer. I should call a friend but then they will think I'm a fucking nut job because I'm crying."
"I want food. Junk food. And a cigarette. I want to shove my face, then have a cigarette even though I'm sick. I just really don't care."
Eventually the negative thoughts stopped, mostly because I actually used my coping skills. That's what goes through my head though. Even though it was a bad day, I have had much worse, so the talk has been even worse.
I don't want any comments that say "I'm sorry you feel that way", or "You aren't a loser," because I already know that. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I know that at least 99% of the negative things that go through my head are lies. I didn't know what to write today, and I thought this would fit into my theme of showing what my recovery in mental illness is like.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Church searching
Today is a day that I hate Fibromyalgia. If you're wondering what that is, look it up; all I will say is that it means constant pain and fatigue for me. To battle the pain today I decided to take a warm bath, which of course includes listening to music and reading a book.
I've been re-reading "Blue Like Jazz" by Donald Miller, and while bathing read the chapters "Confession" and "Church". It's amazing what you can miss the first, and perhaps even second, time reading a book. I found that especially "Church" was applicable to my current situation with trying out a new church and leaving what I've known behind. Sometimes you have to go where you feel the Spirit guiding you.
I grew up in a Berean church, which is a pretty small denomination that I am told has similarities with the Mennonites. My church was pretty conservative, but unless I was being rebellious and depressed, the teaching was good and biblically based.
I've never really thought that there were bad denominations, just ones that I didn't like (which are mostly charismatic churches that have the speaking in tongues and such). My family is made up of a lot of denominations. Dad's parents are Catholic, Mom's parents were Lutheran, aunts and uncles are Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Evangelical Free, and a bible church that is unaffiliated with a denomination. I also have relatives that are atheist, agnostic, and whatever in between.
I thought my church was the right one for me, but it turns out that it may not be. I want to be able to serve once more in a community, not just in a church. This is what has left me looking for a new church home. The church I attended on Sunday with a friend seemed that it may give me more of an opportunity to serve and also have a sense of community, and it was Lutheran, which I am sure would have made Grandma P happy. I haven't heard a sermon there, so I am not sure if I will make it my church home, but it definitely deserves a second look.
I've been re-reading "Blue Like Jazz" by Donald Miller, and while bathing read the chapters "Confession" and "Church". It's amazing what you can miss the first, and perhaps even second, time reading a book. I found that especially "Church" was applicable to my current situation with trying out a new church and leaving what I've known behind. Sometimes you have to go where you feel the Spirit guiding you.
I grew up in a Berean church, which is a pretty small denomination that I am told has similarities with the Mennonites. My church was pretty conservative, but unless I was being rebellious and depressed, the teaching was good and biblically based.
I've never really thought that there were bad denominations, just ones that I didn't like (which are mostly charismatic churches that have the speaking in tongues and such). My family is made up of a lot of denominations. Dad's parents are Catholic, Mom's parents were Lutheran, aunts and uncles are Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Evangelical Free, and a bible church that is unaffiliated with a denomination. I also have relatives that are atheist, agnostic, and whatever in between.
I thought my church was the right one for me, but it turns out that it may not be. I want to be able to serve once more in a community, not just in a church. This is what has left me looking for a new church home. The church I attended on Sunday with a friend seemed that it may give me more of an opportunity to serve and also have a sense of community, and it was Lutheran, which I am sure would have made Grandma P happy. I haven't heard a sermon there, so I am not sure if I will make it my church home, but it definitely deserves a second look.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Needing is one thing...
I have been sick for two days, which means I haven't been to my day treatment. Luckily, I haven't been very anxious or depressed, just feeling that my sinuses want to blow up my face. I bought cold meds, but I'm going to have to take it back to the store because I can't take it with my meds. Such is life.
I did meet with my peer support person today though; a peer supporter being sort of like the mental illness version of an AA sponsor. He's very nice, but I'm not sure if I'm OK with a man doing my peer support. We'll see how that goes. We got quite a bit done on my Wellness Recovery Action Plan (or WRAP).
One weird part of WRAP is that I have to talk with my support system about their willingness to be a part of my suppors system, and also what are warning signs before I go into a relapse with my depression and anxiety. This makes me feel a bit weird. I don't know why though, because if someone I was friendly with came up to me and was all, "Hey so I want you to be part of my support system so that I can call you to talk or hangout when I feel like I'm losing my mind," I'd be all over it. But that's me, not other people. I always feel weird when it is I that needs to do the needing and the asking. Luckily there are a few people that are already cool with it, so it's not a huge list...but it's still intimidating.
I was going to write more, but I just sneezed on my computer and now need to go clean it off.
I did meet with my peer support person today though; a peer supporter being sort of like the mental illness version of an AA sponsor. He's very nice, but I'm not sure if I'm OK with a man doing my peer support. We'll see how that goes. We got quite a bit done on my Wellness Recovery Action Plan (or WRAP).
One weird part of WRAP is that I have to talk with my support system about their willingness to be a part of my suppors system, and also what are warning signs before I go into a relapse with my depression and anxiety. This makes me feel a bit weird. I don't know why though, because if someone I was friendly with came up to me and was all, "Hey so I want you to be part of my support system so that I can call you to talk or hangout when I feel like I'm losing my mind," I'd be all over it. But that's me, not other people. I always feel weird when it is I that needs to do the needing and the asking. Luckily there are a few people that are already cool with it, so it's not a huge list...but it's still intimidating.
I was going to write more, but I just sneezed on my computer and now need to go clean it off.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Uncertainty
Today has been an anxiety ridden day for me; luckily there have been no panic attacks. It had a bit to do with world events, and a lot to do with my current situation in life.
First off, I'll let out my feeling about the world news event of Osama bin Ladin being killed. I found out via Facebook about this at about 3am today, so that was a weird middle of the night experience. Of course, with any big event that happens in the world, I get my irrational end of the world fear. Other than that, I don't really feel much. I mean, I'm glad our troops are safe, but I think it's weird to celebrate that someone was killed. What he did was terrible, and he certainly spread his distorted doctrine to a lot of people, but I can't really be happy that he's dead. I do feel a bit of relief though.
On to my situation, I still don't know what direction my life is going right now. I can tell you what I am doing tomorrow, but can't say what I'll be doing next week. I find that it's harder for me to take things one day at a time than I would've ever thought. I keep wanting to get things fixed now so that I can get on with life, not realizing that getting things fixed is my life right now. All this came from a short visit with my therapist, so I'm still wrapping my head around some of the concepts. I'm glad I got through today.
As for tomorrow, I hope it will bring good things. I hope that I can make it to day treatment again, which will probably depend on if this sinus pressure and runny nose is leading to a cold or not. We'll see how my immune system handles things.
First off, I'll let out my feeling about the world news event of Osama bin Ladin being killed. I found out via Facebook about this at about 3am today, so that was a weird middle of the night experience. Of course, with any big event that happens in the world, I get my irrational end of the world fear. Other than that, I don't really feel much. I mean, I'm glad our troops are safe, but I think it's weird to celebrate that someone was killed. What he did was terrible, and he certainly spread his distorted doctrine to a lot of people, but I can't really be happy that he's dead. I do feel a bit of relief though.
On to my situation, I still don't know what direction my life is going right now. I can tell you what I am doing tomorrow, but can't say what I'll be doing next week. I find that it's harder for me to take things one day at a time than I would've ever thought. I keep wanting to get things fixed now so that I can get on with life, not realizing that getting things fixed is my life right now. All this came from a short visit with my therapist, so I'm still wrapping my head around some of the concepts. I'm glad I got through today.
As for tomorrow, I hope it will bring good things. I hope that I can make it to day treatment again, which will probably depend on if this sinus pressure and runny nose is leading to a cold or not. We'll see how my immune system handles things.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Good weekend
I am glad to say that I had a very full weekend! I started with watching a child on Friday night, which was fun even though she didn't want me to read Harry Potter to her (she said she didn't like it!). Things went uphill from there. On Saturday I went to a get together for people I used to work with at a bar, and despite the crowd I did not have a panic attack. Then today I went to church, had friends over, and went to the platonic life partner's place for some great lasagna.
There is something to this being social thing. My therapist type people have been saying that it's something I should do, but I've just kind of not wanted to get out of my pity party of one. But there really is something to it. When I think about all the times that my depression was worse than normal, they were times when I was alone a lot. You would think that with my sparkling intellect I would have figured this out sooner.
Now that I have seen this, and also have the confidence to know that people do enjoy my presence, the difficult part will be picking up my phone and connecting with others. Also, I should probably keep my apartment clean so that I can have people over during this time of little money in my pocket. I think it will be worth it if I can pull it off, while remembering that I can have a pity party every once in a while because I am not perfect.
There is something to this being social thing. My therapist type people have been saying that it's something I should do, but I've just kind of not wanted to get out of my pity party of one. But there really is something to it. When I think about all the times that my depression was worse than normal, they were times when I was alone a lot. You would think that with my sparkling intellect I would have figured this out sooner.
Now that I have seen this, and also have the confidence to know that people do enjoy my presence, the difficult part will be picking up my phone and connecting with others. Also, I should probably keep my apartment clean so that I can have people over during this time of little money in my pocket. I think it will be worth it if I can pull it off, while remembering that I can have a pity party every once in a while because I am not perfect.
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