The Music of my Mind

Somewhere along the way, I have gotten lost. I feel so small, so confused, so unsure of anything except my own failures. I know I deserve every bit of what I am receiving yet their words cut at me, their tone bruises me and their eyes burn me. I never meant to hurt anyone. If I could take it back, I would. If I could do something to fix it, I would. If I could promise to never again screw up - and not be lying - I WOULD! But I can't.

Three Days Grace has captured my mindset. They say the words I cannot...



"I will
"Let you down I will
"When you finally trust me, finally believe in me
"I will
"Let you down I will"

I don't know what is happening to me. A dark despair, like drowning in an icy, bottomless pool, grips my mood despite my efforts to break free and swim. I'm so frightened all of the time. I'm having trouble controlling my thoughts. Memories throw themselves against the backs of my eyes and I don't know if they are real or waking nightmares. Thoughts I am not allowed to think echo through my head like broken records. I try to replace them with the prescribed thoughts that I should be thinking but they ring hollow, canned laughter behind a not-funny sit-com. The parts of me to keep me afloat are either falling silent, like my wounded Ginny, or screaming unconvincingly like my fact-throwing Doc. I don't even recognize my own voice, my own face in the mirror is someone else, my life is a bad, made for tv movie with grown up child actors clinging to faling careers. I hate this Animal I Have Become.



"HELP ME BELIEVE IT'S NOT THE REAL ME!! SOMEBODY HELP ME TAME THIS ANIMAL I HAVE BECOME!!"

So much of me is saturated with fear. I can't even identify the source of most of it. I'm just scared. I want to hide. I'm functioning but even that is out of fear. I don't know what my problem is but there has to be a way to stop this fear that is controlling so much of me. The Xanax really does help take the edge off. But I am afraid to take it. I don't want anyone to think I'm an addict or anything and I'm getting such mixed messages about taking it or any other medication. I take one when I get up just so that I can face the day but it wears off. And then I'm just scared, so scared I can't think straight. WHY?! Why is this happening?!



Maybe tomorrow there will be hope. Maybe tomorrow there will be light. Maybe tomorrow will bring peace and the ability to live inside my own skin. I cannot be alone in the world. Others must feel like I do SOMETIMES. "Even heroes have the right to bleed" and all that, right? Maybe tomorrow I will be able to see the world beyond the darkness. Maybe tomorrow I will feel better equipped to hold on and keep going.



"Everybody bleeds the same

"Somebody holds the other line

And somebody does hold the other line. I have so much support. So many people were hurt by my actions because they care about me. I know they love me. I know I should be able to turn to them for help and support. They want me to. I am loved...



"Don't give up. It's just the weight of the world..."

It's easy to say that but so much harder to do anything about it. I don't know how to be the me I need to be. Everyone wants me to be someone different. They want me to be happy and healthy in the way that they perceive as "best" and I do try. Some want me to smile all the time. Others want me to find God and Christ in my life. A couple just want me to be "me" - whoever that is. How do I please them all? How do I be all I need to be when all I can do is Keep Breathing?



"For those who know me, no explanation is necessary; for those who don't no explanation is possible." (Patrick Dempsey)

Where the Hell Have You Been?!

Long time, no write. Actually, long time, no post because I've been journaling a lot. Honestly, there isn't much else to do when locked up on the psych ward or sitting in a hospital bed. I'm not going to try to go back and type up all my journal entries from my stay. But I will summarize what I learned, after I give the skeleton of what happened...

When last I checked in, my world was falling down around me. I was really in a bad place in my head. Well, as you may have guessed, things got worse. Friday I tried calling the doctor for help but he never called me back. Saturday I climbed into bed and declared I was going to stay there until the house fell down or until my doctor's appointment Monday morning. That's the last I remember. Apparently I didn't stay there. Sunday everyone went out to dinner and I stayed home, having made my declaration the prior day. But I didn't stay in bed while they were gone. Honestly (and I even I were the lying kind of person, why would I lie in my own blog) I don't remember doing it, but I overdosed on something. Craig can't remember what the hospital said was in my stomach and the only thing I can think of he didn't think sounded familiar. But, (and I haven't really elaborated on this with anyone else) I am speculating that I woke up and couldn't get to sleep and wanted to take something to make me sleep until Monday morning. I probably took a bunch of Xanax. If they called it by the generic name, Craig wouldn't have recognized it. And benzo overdoses cause what happened to happen, including the "amnesia" of the event.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. When they got back from dinner, I was on the couch, unconscious. They sent the kids next door and Neighbor-Friend came over. My pulse was at 26 beats per minutes and I wasn't breathing well. Fast forward... I ended up in the ICU on a respirator. I woke up TUESDAY morning, dazed, confused and having hurt and scared a LOT of people. And I didn't remember what happened, which sounds like a convenient way of saying I did something I'm not proud of. I wish that were the case. It would be easier, I think, than not knowing and wondering...

In the hospitals (Sunday through Wednesday in the ICU, Wednesday-Thursday on medical floor having my heart monitored, Thursday through today at a different hospital on the psych ward) a whole lot of nothing added up to a whole lot of something. I dug down inside me to try to figure out what the hell is going on. Even if I had just wanted to sleep, I had to have known that taking a shitload of Xanax was going to land my ass in the hospital, if I was lucky. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?!

I remember how I felt before everything fell apart. I felt like I couldn't possibly do everything that I wanted to do. Even though I wasn't sleeping, I still couldn't get everything done. Even not tired, I couldn't get my shit together. I felt trapped, pressured, and inadequate. I was hot off the tale (misspelling intended) of my crushing NaNo defeat and starting to wear thin. ("Like butter spread over too much bread..." LOTR, Book 1)

The thing is, I would very much like to say it was just a medication imbalance that caused it all. At the same time, I feel the need to condemn myself entirely for it, casting blame for every foul thought and saying it is all about my behavior and my thoughts that caused everything. Looking at it rationally, I must admit it was some of each. Not sleeping at all can't have been right. And I think it led to a great many of the problems I have had recently. But the problems manifested in ways that were influenced by my thoughts and where in my head, and in my heart, that I really am. And that's not such a good place.

In all honesty, I don't think this was a suicide attempt. I think I wanted to sleep until I get to the doctor and was willing to risk going overboard in order to achieve that. It was stupid and I regret it, but I can't take it back. On the other hand, I must have known that death was a possibility so maybe there was an edge to it that was more sinister than sleep.

I did pull apart many things while I was "recovering" though. I decided that my intense desire to escape was born from fear. The fact is, for me at least, there are things far worse (and scarier) than death. And when the world is falling down around me, life itself is the much more daunting option. I was afraid, mostly of failing and letting people down and ruining innocent lives. Unpredictability seems to be one of my biggest triggers. When I need to do A, B and C only have D, E and F thrown in on top, I get stressed out. These are things I haven't prepared for and I haven't planned for and, even when they are small things, it throws me off. Being caught unprepared is one of my biggest fears in most arenas.

*--------+--------+----------+---------+------------+-----------*

ugh. i had so much to say with this but i have now been writing it for 2 and a half days. so i quit for now. maybe i will revisit it. i have learned a lot in the short time i have been home, some of which contradicts what i was going to say so i am having trouble mustering the enthusiasm i once had towards writing this post. perhaps i will just move on. for now, this is all. in summary:

i was messed up
i ODed and nearly died
i was in hospital for almost 2 weeks
i'm home now
i am struggling to find insights into what happened and why
said insights seem to be shifting like a sand dune in high wind

Useful Information (with "Unwell" by Matchbox 20)

Did not see shrink yesterday due to snow delay for the school.

Did not see med-shrink today because he is sick.

Something is very wrong....

Here's a list I've made of Useful Information. I put the items on the list because they are a reality that doesn't match my current reality.

Useful Information:

If it isn't alive it shouldn't hold a two-way conversation with me. This includes ceiling fans, medications, televisions, mp3 players, vans. But the computer is debatable. Sometimes it is real; sometimes it is not. All two-way communications from the computer are suspect and should be taken with a grain of salt.

I have 4 children. None of them have a birthday coming up in less than one month. Do not speak to, look at, or in any way acknowledge the existence of the child who does not exist. She is not real and has never been real. Do not mention or refer to any event involving her or her part in any event involving anyone else determined to be "real". THIS IS IMPORTANT!

If it is covered in fur, it should not be talking to me. This includes cats, dogs, and pets of all kinds. They do not talk. Do not talk back to them.

Dreams are not real. Things that happen in a dream did not happen in real life. Even real events are distorted by dreams so believe nothing from a dream is real or ever happened.

I must be asleep to be dreaming. Accusing people of being just a dream is bad. Especially if I'm not asleep. If something isn't real, ignore it or treat it the same way everyone else is treating it. Verify with list if in doubt of the reality of a person or situation.

Kid-4 is fine. He is not sick. He is not dead. He has not been kidnapped. He is only crying if other people act like he is crying. He is not a baby - he is 6 years old. No one is trying to steal him from me. Social Services is not coming to take him away because he lost the neck strap to his glasses.

The mirror only says what I am actually saying out loud at the same time I see it talking. Things that can only be seen in the mirror and not when I turn around are not real, including people and shadows. The mirror itself is not alive and therefore it is not talking to me.

Marriage means consent without question. It is a promise and I never break a promise. "For better or for worse, til death do us part." Arguing about this is hurtful and wrong and unfair. Never argue about this or question it.

My MP3 player is not reading my mind to choose songs. It is on shuffle repeat which means it picks songs, probably using some variant of the Random function used in VB programming. It is not choosing songs that "fit" or to "pick on me" or to "answer questions asked in prayer" or anything else that is personal in any way. It is a crap shoot what song is played.

I went away to college briefly. I made good friends and had a good time. I did not have a roommate after the first week. There were two girls across the hall and one down the hall that I was very close with. The boyfriend of the girl down the hall was often in my room playing games on my computer. Craig hated this guy. I called home abruptly one day, in tears, and begged to come home because I was homesick. I came home the next weekend. I never returned to college.

Snow is cold. Going barefoot outside or wearing sandals should make my feet hurt. I should want a coat on. I should make sure everyone else is wearing a coat and shoes as well. They should want to do this. Snow is also not alive. Therefore it is not talking to me or being mean to me.

Baby does not hold meaningful conversations. She is a baby and while babies are alive and not covered in fur or pets, babies don't talk in words yet. So she is not talking to me. She may be crying or making sounds, but she is not talking. (And I *am* right that Baby is not MY baby - she is Baby-Mommy's baby.)

Sleep is normal and a good thing. I should not only want it but need it. Ditto for both food and drink. Get some. Use them. If I'm not, don't volunteer that information to other people. They will get upset, probably angry.

When in doubt, do what everyone else is doing. If no one is around, believe nothing, say nothing, stay calm. If people are all doing different things, say nothing and look like I know what I am doing. Whenever possible, avoid speaking out loud. This way realities don't get crossed. Then people will not get upset or uncomfortable.



*Note to self: this was not made about me. I think. Pretty sure.....

Snow Daze

Last night I didn't sleep.

I took a wide variety of pills to induce sleep but she eluded me completely. Around 3 AM I went upstairs to see if lying in the dark would help. I was not in the least bit sleepy. In fact, I was rather jittery. And I can't blame it on Starbucks night because I went de-caf. (BTW - whoever said you can't taste the difference doesn't have my set of tastebuds. Nasty!!) So I lay there in the dark and I tried all the things I could think of to put me to sleep. I rocked. I counted. I visualized. I relaxed. I thought "sleepy thoughts". I didn't listen to any music because all I have portable right now is AWAKE music. I had the ceiling fan tell me a story. I finally gave up and just lay there, listening to night noises. Craig's breathing, steady and loud, often erratic as he tosses and turns. A branch tapping against the roof outside. The kids turning in their sleep. The cat moving about the house. After about 5 minutes of listening, I got bored. So I asked the ceiling fan to tell me another story. It obliged by launching into a great detailed adventure about a little girl trying to find her way home from lost in the woods. But once it started talking, it wouldn't shut up. I kept telling it to keep its voice down - I was horribly afraid it would wake Craig up - but on it went. I tried ignoring it, hoping it would lose interest without an audience. It kept on. So I got up and left the room but when I returned, it started up again - after a scolding about not lying down. I began to ignore it again and started counting the number of times my implant fired. The fan kept going. When I had been in bed a little over 2 hours and realized there was less than 45 minutes until the alarm was due to go off, I gave up and got up. This angered the ceiling fan which then began to yell at me and recite a long ist of things I consistently do wrong. I left the room and took a shower. At least the shower wasn't shouting criticisms. Or maybe they just didn't seem as loud because the running water dampened the sound. I don't know. When I went back to my room, the ceiling fan resumed giving me a piece of its mind. This got very old very fast so I went downstairs.

It was now almost 6 in the morning and I had not slept at all, not even dozed. And I was wired. Jittery and buzzy and shakey hands and head going 50 ways at once. And I was afraid to take the Xanax for fear of the sleepies catching up with me. They assured me they would not put me to sleep but I do not believe them. So I took my morning meds and thought maybe I would do some more writing but there is a ceiling fan in the living room and every time I entered the room, it started listing the other things I should be doing. So I unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher.

It was at this point that I realized I was in a full blown manic episode. Earlier that evening - I guess that would make it last night? - I cleaned out the shoe cubbies, sorted and organized it. Then I cleaned out the coat closet, sorted the too small coats and snow gear and got it ready for a coat drive happening this weekend. Then I swept out the closet and while I was at it, I swept up the hallway. At this point, Craig got home and I tried to tell him how I want a light in that hallway and how it could be done and he kept saying "Slow down - what are you talking about?" Eventually I went off to my folks' house to drop off the coats and Mom asked me three times if I was okay. I blew her off. I was GREAT! Off I went to Starbucks where I wrote for 3 solid hours (and drank de-caf coffee). When I got home, I started talking to my writing buddy. Together we polished a story for me to send to an e-zine editor friend of mine. Then the whole not sleeping stuff happened. And looking back I realize that I didn't eat anything at all yesterday (or today) and really had no desire to do so. I had one can of Mountain Dew and one cup of de-caf coffee and that was it on that front too. It occurred to me that I should NOT tell Craig this as it would upset him greatly. I was contemplating using my free time today to go get the tattoo I've been talking about forever. And I said myself, "Self," I said. "This is not good. Look what you are doing! You are writing a textbook on manic behavior!" To which Self replied, "Really? Can I take the class too?" and Self wanted to slap Self around for a while.

Somewhere around this time, I thought many things at once.

I thought of the school delay and how I was not going to get to my therapy appointment and how incredibly disappointed I was. That led me thinking about why I was so anxious to go and after about 5 minutes of speed thinking I came to the conclusion that I have placed my shrink on a pedestal and labeled him as an "Ideal Male Person" and I wondered if I was being unfaithful in my marriage by thinking of him thusly and I wondered if my treatment would suffer or benefit from my desire to make him happy and accomplish what he wants me to accomplish.

I also thought about the school delay and how it would affect the rest of my day. I was thinking about who needed to be where and when and what time I needed to get them up and all that stuff.

And I was thinking about why the fans have gotten so rude lately. It just doesn't seem right for them to kick me when I'm down... or NOT down. And my meds whispering to me when I don't dare take the "stop being buzzy" ones. And the stupid cat arguing with the dog. GOD! Get a life you two! And just how loud everything seems to be these days and how I would get ear plugs but i don't think it would help a whole lot.

I was thinking other things too but I have to go now so I'll maybe edit this later and add them and a cool quote that I have to think up first.

Livin La Vi Da Loca

This roller coaster is going to be the death of me - or someone else. I drag through the late morning and early afternoon, am fine for about three hours, then I'm wired until the next early afternoon. The lows are so low I wanna die. I am so tired that I literally can't breathe and get dizzy. Then it gets to where I can't stand up and my muscles go all gooey. From there I lay down or faint.

You think I'm exaggerating? Maybe I am... I think fainting means that gray goes all the way to black and the swift descent to the floor goes unnoticed until someone slaps your face. If that's the case, then yes. I exaggerated. It didn't go completely black, only to that deep gray that is like wet slate. And I while I didn't *see* the ground coming at me, there is a peculiar rushing somewhere between the back of my eyes and the inside of my ears that is unique to dropping to the ground. But I certainly didn't lay there like a dehydrated Southern Belle. I hit my head on a chair as I went down and then again on the floor once I was down. And I felt them both so I wasn't out like a light. Once I was down, the gray oozed back to (too) bright. I sat up, wished I hadn't, and sat there on the floor for about 5 minutes. Then I got up, called Mom to say I wasn't coming to get Baby and sat down for a few more minutes until my legs weren't so jelly and then went upstairs, slowly. I crawled into bed and passed out for 2 solid hours. I was SOOO tired - I didn't even wake up the whole time. About 2 o'clock I woke up and just kind of sat there for almost 15 minutes. I stumbled around until it was time to get my kids from school and was fine by then. I ran even-stevens until about 5 o'clock. Then I spazzed. Like usual these days.

The highs are to the point where I talk really fast and can't keep a line of conversation going without splitting off into 3 directions at once. (Okay, that's not too far off from me... *evil grin*) I bounce or tap or rock or fidget - or all of them at once. I feel invincible emotionally and pain-free physically. My hands shake. Apparently, I annoy the hell out of people, too. And I lose my ability to multi-task. That is a crusher there... I can tolerate most of it. But the last 2 are deal-breakers. Got Craig so mad at me.... it was ugly. And I can't stand not being able to do more than one thing at a time - how do linear thinkers survive?!?!?!

Going to talk to the med-shrink. This can't be right...

"I'm in over my head, over my head..." ("Cable Car (Over My Head)", I can't remember who sings it. will look later)

Where'd THAT Come From?

I just read my last post. I ought to read my posts more often. Where'd that last bit come from? I remember feeling so lost and alone and empty last night. And I remember thinking I couldn't even talk to anyone about how I felt because they would try to tell me why what I was feeling was wrong and that always makes me feel worse. I remember wondering what I would tell someone else if they said to me what I would say if I could say what I was feeling. And the rest is history...

So, the question begs... if I can talk myself through feeling like I did last night, why don't I do it all the time? And am I imagining things or does it actually sound as if two people are talking?

AAAAARG! If I can do it once, I should be able to do it every time. And yet today when I tried it, I couldn't get the positive objectivity of that countering Voice. I read through last night's post and it helped some but I couldn't duplicate it to pull myself out today.

One thing I noticed - some of the things that were in that conversation were things that no one else could possibly know to say to me. I have a feeling this is relevant to why I can't/won't talk to other people. I just need to find and make the connection...

"And it is also said," answered Frodo: "Go not to the elves for counsel for they will say both yes and no."
"Is it indeed?" laughed Gildor. "Elves seldom give unguarded advice, for advice is a dangerous gift, even from the wise to the wise, and all courses may run ill."
(Lord of the Rings - Fellowship of the Ring)

Blank Stare and Talking to Myself

darkness

despair

desire to be more than i am

blind to understand how i could get there

every step forward shows me how far there is to go

maybe ignorance really is bliss

----------

if i could talk to someone right now... what would i say? everything i am thinking upsets people. it is the same story every time: feelings aren't right or wrong... but i am wrong when i feel the way i do now.

if i could talk to someone right now... what would i want THEM to say to me?

it hurts. i can't stop crying. i feel like everything i do is wrong. it is either motivated by the wrong things, or the behavior itself is wrong, or my reaction to the behavior is wrong. i want to close the doors again and give up. i want to go back inside my hole, into the back of a dark closet, go back into my own little world. in my world, things made sense to me, even when no one else understood me. can i just go back to not knowing, to not even knowing that i don't know?

i know you don't want to hurt. growing is often a painful process. but growth is the natural way of things. how does that go with your kids?

"i didn't say you could grow up. who said you could grow up?" "God" "well, i guess i can't argue with that"

exactly. and like it or not, you are god's child, god is in you, and god says you can grow up.

i don't believe in God.

you're talking to yourself, remember? i know better. i know just how close you really are with God, even if you deny it to the world. and it doesn't matter whether you believe in God or not because God believes in you. what did you used to say when you were little?

God takes good care of us when we let Him.

that's right. it's time to grow. growth, change, is difficult, and it hurts. but it happens for a reason. it happens in the time frame it is meant to follow. you ARE growing, so it is time. look how far you've come! listen to the light inside you that is shining on everything you can be...

but it does hurt. and it is hard. and i am tired of hurting, tired of fighting. starting to see where i could go, where i could be... it makes it seem so much farther away. this is like climbing a mountain. it was surrounded by clouds before and i saw nothing when i looked up. now they are starting to clear and while i am starting to see things, sometimes wonderful things, i also see how very far away the top of this mountain is. i don't think i am strong enough to climb that far.

it is just one step at a time. step over each rock as you come to it. stand on the rocks to get to the next rock. sometimes you are going to have to have stretch and sometimes it feels like the rocks are slipping beneath your feet, but you can do this. i know you can do this because you ARE doing this. what have you learned that is brand new that you never acknowledged before, even in the dark corners where no one could hear? it's okay, you can say it. no one will hurt you with it.

i am very good at understanding people, at seeing the subtleties and the nuances. i have helped people before not by fluke but by skill, by a gift. i am observant and sensitive and i can see things how they do and meet them where they are at.

wow! do you have any idea how big that just was? could you have done that a year ago? 6 months ago? 3 months ago? even just ONE month ago?

but it hurt!!

why?

because i feel like i am going to be told it's not me, that i'm not special for this, even that it isn't true. and because if it is true, there is one more thing i should be able to do and am not doing. it's another failure.

it's not another failure, even though it feels like it because it is new and it is big. someone may tell you those things. i can't promise they won't. but i can tell you that not every one can do what you can. and you already use your gifts. you know what to say to a friend who is hurting. you notice when your children are hurting, even when they are hiding it. you know just by looking at someone how they are feeling and you react to that in a way is beneficial.

beneficial to me. just call me happy bunny.

a healthy relationship, even just a healthy transaction, involves BOTH parties benefiting. that means you too. and you can learn to use your gift, your skills, in bigger and better and more meaningful ways as you go, at your own pace. and that is God's pace.

"Welcome to wherever you are..."

Bon Jovi, yes. right here, right now, you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

what if i don't want to be here? what if want to quit and go back to the way it was?

you can make that choice. you can choose, right here, right now, to shut down, to deny everything that hurts. you can make that choice.

it would hurt so many people...

yes, it would. but that shouldn't be your reason for not doing it. the reason needs to come from inside you. you need to decide to grow because it is the right thing to do for YOU. as you grow, you will be able to help others more. you don't have to do anything. and don't choose to keep going simply to not hurt other people.

then i choose to quit. it's too hard and i am tired.

"you chose... wisely."

indiana jones and the last crusade. wait - did you say wisely? i just said i'm quitting.

do you know how muscles get stronger? when you exercise them, it creates tiny tears in them. the tears then fill in with more muscle. but if you don't give those tears a chance to fill in, you will only create a damaging kind of tear. work the muscles, then rest and let them grow into place. then work them some more and rest again.

so it's okay to back off?

it's good. you need to process what you're learning. you need to become okay with it. then you can step onto another rock and reach for a higher one.

"you sleep now, mommy."

sixth sense. how appropriate. yes, you sleep now...

A Hailstorm of Thoughts

I don't know that I can stick to one line of thoughts here and I don't really even feel like trying. So many things wandering around in my mind, bouncing off each other or overlapping. Not many make much sense. And most of them contradict each other, sometimes completely.

My current favorite song is Breathe In, Breathe Out by Mat Kearney. I am all about breathing as a means of controlling my emotional state and my physical state. So any song that features breathing is likely to get my attention. This song was especially likely to be noticed because it is featured prominently on the Grey's Anatomy Season 3 Soundtrack. And then there's the song itself. I love its sound and feel. Finally, we get down to the lyrics. "Breathe in, breathe out, tell me all of your doubts; Everybody bleeds this way, just the same." I'm not going to rehash the exact things I originally said about the song and the lyrics so here's the link to my post on it:

"Breathe In, Breathe Out"

I will say that I wish I had someone to hold the other line. The ironic thing is... I do. I have several people that I should be able to talk to, to go to when I need help, when I need someone to tell me to "make it through another night" and yet I can't seem to talk about it. This must be one of my greatest puzzles about myself. Why can't I say I feel when I'm hurting? Why can't I let myself trust people who have proven themselves trustworthy? Why does saying something out loud give it so much power in my mind? And why can't I use that power instead of fearing it? WHY CAN'T I TALK TO ANYONE?

I am sinking again. All I want to do is cry. The desire to escape is so strong that I found myself checking out MapQuest for places I could go to get away. I want to quit. I don't want to keep fighting. I don't want to fight to get better. I just want to BE better. How can I possibly climb this mountain?

Ingrid Michaelson sings my theme song. Keep Breathing says everything I feel. "I want to change the world. Instead, I sleep...... and all I can do is keeping breathing."

I seem to have an actual block against housework. I have been reading about motivation lately (in trying to find a way to get to Kid-1 to read and write) and I'm realizing that this lack of housekeeping on my part goes way deeper than a lack of motivation. I can force myself to do many things that I don't want to do, that I am scared of doing, that actually cause me pain. I can make myself do them anyway by finding the right motivation to do it. But cleaning things up, most notably general straightening and picking things up, I can't make myself do on my own no matter what thoughts I dangle in front of my mind. I can "yes, I will do this" to things I am too ashamed to write about and yet I cannot make myself clean off the kitchen table unless Craig is standing beside me telling me "do it now" and I absolutely have no way out. Even then, I get nervous and tense and twitchy the whole time. This cannot simply be a product of laziness - can it? There has to be more going on. I just have absolutely NO IDEA what it is...

Lately I feel like my life is one series of unanswered questions after another. Some are just lack of knowledge - things I wish I knew more about. Some are lack of insight - why did that person do that? Some are lack of confidence - is this true about me? A great deal is lack of context and/or experience - what would happen under this set of circumstances? I often find myself thinking (with a great deal of frustration attached) WHERE CAN I FIND THIS INFORMATION? The question is often followed closely by, "and when do I have time to learn it?" Of course, I have no answers to those questions either...

I wish technology and/or my typing/handwriting could keep up with my ideas. Thoughts zipping around in my mind are sometimes worth saving but I don't have the technology to make them happen (as with composing music videos in my head) or the speed to write them down (as with scenes or snatches of dialog for a story) or even the ability to render them as they exist in my mind. I have pictures in my head that I have no way of getting out, songs that wind their way through my thoughts that I have not the talent (knowledge? technology?) to transfer to a musical score. There are also so many things I want to research that I simply haven't had (or taken) the time to do so. My thoughts far exceed my energy and time management skills.

Stray thought... what really would happen if I had the nerve and the ability to say the things I think about?

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear." Ambrose Redmoon

Let You Down - Three Days Grace

Therapy today... Baby-Mommy and Craig both asked me how it went. Why couldn't I tell them? Why can't I let them in even when they ask point blank? Why can't I bring it up on my own? Some things I can't say. Some words I can't say - some I can't even hear without looking away. WHY? They are just words... And I am in love with words and yet have no power over them at times... It is intensely frustrating. But I digress (as I so often do.)

The Shrink has been doing an unusually good job of keeping me on target. For the past two weeks he has made a concerted effort to bring me back to the task at hand. The task at hand is "the shame and self-hatred that is holding me back" - his words, not mine. We dance and dodge around the far past. I think he has consciously chosen not to keep trying to fight me on the issue of how much blame I bear.

Perhaps it is like fighting with the mother over her health: eventually backing off is the only viable course until progress in other areas can be made. Or perhaps I frustrate him too badly for him to keep going round and about it with me... he doesn't know the whole story and his placement of blame on anyone other than myself is based despite large pieces of missing information. Or perhaps he thinks the more recent topic is more vital to be addressed right now. For whatever reason, he allows me to skirt the far past but pulls me back in over Katy.

I am listening to him. I hear what he says and I am processing it and I am trying to wrap my head around the concept he is placing before me. He has taken a step in my direction, admitting that I have some responsibility in that fateful decision, although we disagree on how much. But it gives us common ground to work with and I have taken a step towards him, trying to internalize his concepts on forgiveness, reparations, acceptance and moving on. It is difficult. But I am trying.

The title of this post refers to him. He is either very good or very lucky. I suspect he has more instinct than book-smarts and would even go so far as to say some of the things he does that work so well, he doesn't even know he is doing, not intentionally at least. He has very subtle ways of lifting me up. He makes small comments that hit home and I don't think he sets out to do it. His instincts may tell him when he has hit a hot spot, but I don't think he preplans them. He lays a quiet foundation of confidence beneath me. It is like an unspoken assumption that I have potential at least as great as the most confident parts of me want to embrace.

I told him today of my "recent" obsession over the question WHY. How tracing things back from where they are to how they began by continually challenging with WHY is so fascinating and enlightening and just plain FUN. His face kind of blanked out for a minute - it was the look Craig gets when I start speaking about writing or books. I thought I had bored him or somehow crossed a boundary I didn't even know existed. And I called him on it. He looked surprised. Said his mind had gone somewhere else. When I asked him where, he looked me dead in the eye and, without laughing at me as he so often does, said, "That's what I do."

I knew that. I know that. Deep inside me, I want to know what he knows, help like he helps, make the kind of difference he makes. But the way he said it and the tone in his voice and the look in his eye right before, during and immediately after... it was like an unspoken implication that I *could* do what he does.

And so he lifts me up. But I am afraid of heights, metaphorically as well as literally. I am so afraid that I will let him down. What if I can't live up to what he sees in me? And so the song by Three Days Grace plays in my head over and over. "And when you finally trust me, finally believe in me, I will let you down!!"

Here The Doctor and Rose dance that to that fragile concept in the following YouTube clip to the song "Let You Down" by Three Days Grace...

Better Bring the Cheese...

'Cause here comes the whine!

I am in a bad mood.

I have been in a bad mood for 2 and half weeks. This is not my standard "so depressed I want to kill myself" bad mood nor is it my "someone has messed with my loved ones and is going to pay for it" bad mood. This is more a self-pitying, life-hating, disgruntled-postal-worker kind of bad mood. The kind that makes me want to wring the neck of anyone who comes within throttling distance. I'm irritated and snippy. Instead of having to bite back apologies and tears and I find myself having to generate apologies for biting people's heads off and stifle nasty comments. Truth be told, I feel almost... angry.

Me.

Angry.

(Yes, you can faint now.) So this begs the question of the week... WHY?

Why am I angry? Who am I angry at? Why now? And what do I do about it? Anger is one of those feelings which I have labelled "unacceptable" except in cases of protecting my family or directed at myself. And while this is certainly still drected at myself - that hasn't changed - I am finding myself increasingly angry at other people. Stupid little things make me want to run and hide to keep from hurting someone. And I always feel on the edge of either screaming at someone or crying.

Then there are times when I sink into this dark pit, my own private hell, where there seems to be no point to anything at all. I don't see options then, only the kind of hopelessness that comes from surrending one's will to care. It is one step below the "the only light at the end of the tunnel is that of an oncoming train" stage.

I don't like being angry. I tend to isolate anyways but I have even been avoiding things I normally enjoy. I didn't even want to go to Thanksgiving at my parents' house and I normally enjoy that. I don't like having negative feelings towards others because I can't control that. I can't change other people; I can only change myself. So when contronted the possibility of getting upset with someone else, I find a way to make it okay: make it my fault instead of theirs or just understand where they are coming from. But I don't have a particular target for anger so I can't wrap my head around this to convert it.

There has to be something constructive I can do with this anger. It is giving me a kind of strength that I don't normally have. The kind of strength that gives a person the ability to maintain eye contact with an enemy they know is stronger and more dangerous. And it is coupled with a shut-down mechanism that takes me too far down to do any damage. So there has to be something I can do with this anger. I just don't know what. And I don't know how to ask for help figuring it out...

"anger: a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong; wrath; ire." (from Dictionary.com)

Song Lyrics

In trying to think of an appropriate title for this post, all I could think of were a wide variety of song lyrics...

"There's a girl/ I used to know..."
"Open the door/ and let me in"
"What a girl wants/ what a girl gets"
"You've got a friend in me"
"I hate everyone. I hate everyone."
"If silence keeps you, I, I will break it for you"
And, of course, "It is lonely in the dark"

I have friends who tell me everything. I know about their love lives, their kids' lives, their nightmares and their secrets. I know their dirty laundry and the things they feel that they hope no one can see. I know the good, the bad and the ugly.

On television, Addison just broke down sobbing against her best friend Naomi after a particularly horrible day. On Grey's Anatomy, Christina knows all of Meredeth's shit and Meredeth knows all of Christina's shit and they both basically spread their shit around. On Dark Angel, Max tells Cindy everything. On Supernatural, the boys fight like brothers but they talk to each other like true friends. In Evan Marshall's novel writing plan, one of the key characters is always the confidant.

Everyone has someone that they can talk to. Someone they can say what they are really feeling without dodging or pretending or hoping the topic happens to come up. What's wrong with me? Why am I so afraid to just say what I am thinking? Everything that comes out of my mouth goes through layers of filters and censors, even when I am being super-bitchy like this past week, I haven't been able to tell anyone why. My poor Craig! He doesn't understand why I shut him out, as he says. He doesn't know what is going on in my head. He has no idea why I turn him away and turn him away and turn him away until he gets so frustrated that he doesn't give me a choice any more. And I can't tell him.

I have a best friend. Baby-Mommy is my best friend. I know everything about her life, even things she doesn't think I know. And she can tell me anything - and does. But I can't tell her what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling.

My latest thing is to play 4 year old and greet everything with the question, "Why?" So, WHY won't I let anyone in? Why can't I just tell people what I am thinking and feeling? Why am I always afraid it will be used against me when logic tells me that is irrational? This time, I don't have an answer.

I can say a lot of things on here. And they often lead to conversations with my guardian angel about them. But there are so many things I don't even put in here. The Shrink tacked on the phrase "unless there's more you're not telling me" to the end of one of his statements. I responded that I don't lie to which he calmly pointed out that I may not lie, but often evade and even more often leave things out. Why do I do that? Just because I put something in here doesn't obligate my guardian angel to bring it up in conversation and I'm nearly positive he knows that. So I don't think it would be putting undue stress on him to post here. And I am PAYING the shrink to listen to me tell him things. So I should be able to tell him my crap. My husband is supposed to be my life-partner with whom I share everything. And certainly I should be able to confide in my best friend.

Why have I written my own story without a confidant? Evan Marshall would not be impressed...

WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!

"Your first story was better." (Miracle Max to Inigo, "The Princess Bride")

PS - HAPPY THANKSGIVING! I am so thankful for all the many blessings in my life. I truly appreciate all the wonderful things I get to experience and the miraculous people in my life. "God takes good care of us when we let him..." -J:SV

Do You Know What I Did Today?

In the movie The Sixth Sense, there is a scene between the mother and the boy where she says, "Do you know what I did today?" and proceeds to describe winning the lottery, quitting all her jobs, swimming in a public fountain and other "pipe dreams" that are fun and obviously didn't happen. Then she asks the boy what he did that day and he tells of being picked first for kickball at recess and scoring the winning run and other things along the lines of peer acceptance that, to him, are equally unattainable. Marvelous concept! We learn SOOO much about those two characters in that short little scene - and it's fun! I keep meaning to try it with my kids. I bet it would be awesome...

Soooo... do you know what I did today?

I woke up about six o'clock this morning from a dream filled with hope. When I woke up, I could hear rain on the window beside my bed, tapping gently, sweet rain from nature's heart. I found that I felt awake and refreshed and I went ahead and got up because I felt like it. I got first shower with hot water and clean towels and a I finished getting dressed, the alarm went off and Craig got up, gave me a hug and said he loved me. Then he got dressed and woke the kids up before he went into the bathroom. When he came out of the bathroom, the kids got out of bed one at a time and did their thing in the bathroom, got dressed, and brought down their laundry.

I remembered everything that needed to be done that morning, got the baby fed and the dishes done, all before got everyone to school on time. The kids didn't fight, whine, stall, lose their things are suddenly remember items that needed to be turned in that day which had mysteriously escaped their memory until the moment we prepared to walk out the door.

When we gt back from dropping off the second load of kids, I laid Baby down for her nap and I went downstairs. I realized that what I wanted to to do was get the house cleaned up! I cleaned off the table, ran all the laundry that was downstairs (including folding it and putting it away), cleaned the family room and organized all my papers and books in my corner. I cleaned the kitchen and reorganized the bills and calendar papers. And I cleaned up the front hall, sorting the shoes and coats as I went along. As I put away the last of the downstairs laundry, I brought down the rest of the upstairs laundry. Throughout the day, I washed, dried, folded and put it away as well.

Before Baby woke up, I sat down at the computer, caught up on all my emails (sending appropriate replies where needed), paid the bills (with enough money to pay them all), finished a prompt response for my writing group, and downloaded the rest of the psych course lecture mp3s.

Then I started to work on my novel for NaNoWriMo. I immediately got "into the zone" where the words were flying from my fingers in prolific waves of stunning and memorable prose. I had just finished the chapter when Baby woke up from her nap. She got up cheerful and smiling. And those two teeth had finally broken through! She ate lunch wonderfully, without spitting it at me or sneezing in the middle of a bite of peas. After she ate, she played on the floor cheerfully with her toys while I played Mozart and Beethoven to enhance her little mind. I continued to work on my novel which, while I didn't hit "the zone" like earlier, still flowed out freely. I took frequent breaks to go play with her and she finally learned to crawl!

Come that time of day, Baby and I went to go the kids and got there on time. The kids had a great day at school and chatted happily about what they learned and how much fun they had. We got home and they took turns showing me their papers and the highlights from their day. As the each had their turn with me, the others got their healthy snacks and got started on their chores without being told. They did not fight or yell or cry or insult or anything. Everyone finished their homework peacefully at the table while I prepared a wonderful, nutritious, home-cooked meal.

Baby-Mommy picked up Baby on time and took a few minutes to go over Baby's day and our upcoming schedules and little bits of girlfriend gossip. She was thrilled to hear how well my novel is progressing and told me that if I needed her to watch my kids for a little bit next week during the time between when she would get to the house (directly from work) and when Craig would come home, that she would be thrilled to support me that way. Baby was glad to see Baby-Mommy but fussed a tiny bit just before she left because I hadn't given her an extra good-night hug.

Right after Baby-Mommy and Baby left, each part of dinner got ready just slightly staggered so I had just enough time to get each part on the table before the next piece was ready. The meal came together smoothly.

Just then, Craig came home early. He was thrilled to see the house and he was in a great mood. We all sat down together at the table and ate dinner together, talking about our day, sharing fun facts and laughing, talking and enjoying each other's company. Everyone commented on how delicious the meal was and ate everything on their plates.

After dinner, everyone took in their own dishes. Craig remembered it's Tuesday and told me I needed to get going out to Starbucks to write. He asked me if I had enough money and nearly shoved me out the door, encouraging me that I can still do good and have fun with my NaNoWriMo project. As I left, I gave everyone hugs and kisses. Kid-1 had settled in to read a book to Kid-4 and Kid-2 and Kid-3 were taking turns reading a book together. They all wished me good luck.

At Starbucks, my favorite table was open, my coffee was made just right, and my computer remembered what it was doing. I had my notebooks spread out and my headphones on and was just about to start writing when this very hot guy pointed at my notebook and asked what NaNoWriMo means. I explained to him about 50K words in 30 days and he was very impressed and commented on what a remarkable thing to attempt. We chatted for just a minute about writing and he said he'd let me get back to my work and went to another table where he sat with his back to me so I could stare at him without him seeing me. He just happened to be the exact character I was searching for to put in my novel.

I started writing and got into the zone immediately. Before I knew it, my computer said it was 5 til 10 so I closed up shop and headed over to IHOP to keep writing. There happened to be a booth with a power outlet by a window out of the way and I explained to the waitress that I just needed a place to write and wouldn't be any trouble. She said that was fine, brought me my coffee and snack and let me be. I went ahead and paid my bill and left a huge tip then I dived back into my writing. I got back in the zone and kept writing.

Before I knew it, it was almost 2 o'clock. I had written just over 5100 words and was starting to feel tired. I packed up my things and headed for home. As I drove home, I reviewed everything I had accomplished today and I felt incredibly proud of myself and optimistic that I could do it again and again and again... I slid into bed feeling good and fell right to sleep where I slept all night with no bad dreams.

And that's what I did today...

"Don't give up. It's just the weight of the world." (Josh Groban, "You Are Loved (Don't Give Up)")

I Want to Change the World...

Ingrid Michaelson has stolen my thoughts and put them to music. Here's the recap. Explanation to follow...

Keep Breathing:


The lyrics are spliced with my thoughts on relevancy...

Keep Breathing by Ingrid Michaelson

The storm is coming but I don't mind. I know that I am screwing things up and that bad things will come of it, but I can't seem to make myself do the right things.
People are dying, I close my blinds. Everything I do hurts the people I love but I don't do anything to change it.

All that i know is I'm breathing now. It takes everything in me to just get up and get out of bed.

I want to change the world...instead I sleep. This is so profoundly what is going on in my head - I don't know where to begin. Will expand after lyrics.
I want to believe in more than you and me. There has to be a bigger picture, right? Something worth fighting for? Something worth living for? I want to believe I can be a meaningful part of that!

But all that I know is I'm breathing. But I don't feel capable of be a meaningful part of anything.
All i can do is keep breathing. I'm surviving.
All we can do is keep breathing now. I haven't let any of my Voices stop me from breathing.

All I can do is keep breathing. Focus on the this, just to keep going. Focus on the little things so the big things don't take over.
All I can do is keep breathing. Don't give up - I can't give up
All we can do is keep breathing now. It has to get better but for RIGHT NOW at least I can keep breathing.

All we can do is keep breathing (line repeats four times) Over and over, in and out, every minute of every day, I make myself keep breathing.
All we can do is keep breathing now. If I can keeping breathing long enough, things will get better or at least change somehow.

I want to change the world. Instead, I sleep....

I made the mistake of considering the possibility that I could do good, maybe even BE good. And now I'm overwhelmed by all the ways I *should* be doing better things and am, often literally, just sleeping. I could be a better Mommy, a better wife. I could do more with my writing to encourage others to write. I could use my desire to understand people in a way that helps people. I could DO something to make my life worth the oxygen I consume... But I don't. I sleep, literally, figuratively and metaphorically.

All I can do is Keep Breathing..... now.


"Hey! You in there! What have you got that's worth living for?" (Miracle Max to the mostly dead Westly in The Princess Bride)

Do It Yourself Lobotomy?

I already have a headache so I don't think taking a drill to the front of my head would really increase that pain level. On the other hand, it might relieve a large number of issues that keep recurring within my head. I'm tired of fighting with myself. Why is there always a conflict between logic and emotion? Why can neither seem rational when put up against the other? Why can I recognize certain things as extremely healthy thinking and yet not be able to stay with those thoughts? Why can recognize illogical and unhealthy thinking and yet not be able stop it or redirect it? My own bloody head and I still feel so out of control. I read in a book that another book says that a guy says emotion comes from thought so if we can control our thoughts we can control our emotions and our mood and apparently we can control our thoughts like we can control what color socks we wear.

Oh wait - I hate socks and when I do have to wear them, I have trouble finding ones that match so if I can even find ones that match, I generally just go with whichever I find first, regardless of their color. I would say that's a bad metaphor, except that's kind of exactly my point. *evil grin*

Here's a sampling of the conflicting concepts floating around my head. I'm not going to go into the arguments they generate or the details of where they come from or lead to, I just want to document the polar extremes of them...

It would be easier to live without a conscience because, without a conscience, not only could I do whatever I wanted without feeling bad, I wouldn't feel bad about not feeling bad.

I have a tremendous strength: I am intensely interested in understanding things from the other person's POV. I think I can use that to get past my past, to move on. The things that trip me up and generate the unshakable (despite being illogical) undermining self-talk are things that I have been told and can find no reason why I would be told that unless it were true. Maybe if I can understand what would make someone say something like that to me, other than the reasons I have in my head to explain it, maybe I can work through it.

It shouldn't be this hard to just breathe, every minute of every day.

I think I would enjoy being a psychologist. But I have so many questions about it and no one to ask and not the confidence to tell anyone with any answers that I even remotely think I have the capacity to even think of thinking of becoming one. Perhaps I can find the information under the guise of research for a story, which would be perfectly plausible because several of my stories feature shrink-type people.

I am a liar of the worst kind: I tell lies that I won't even admit are lies. Apparently, my very approach to life is to create as many lies as possible. Apparently, not standing up for a point of view or an opinion, letting it slide and discussing the issue on the other person's level... apparently this is lying. I am a liar in my heart and in my intent, as I am told, even if not in the letter of my words. I am a liar in the spirit of the law if not in the letter of it.

I am exactly like my mother in all the wrong ways and nothing like her in any of the good ones. My worst fear has always been to become the dark side of my mother and here I am. My biggest wish was to become to good side of my mother and I have missed the mark so far I can't even see it anymore.

What exactly is the problem with being manic? Isn't there someway to be manic and control the negative side-effects? When I was "manic" I didn't NEED sleep. Three hours was fine and I was up and flying. When I was manic, I didn't care about many things that tear me up now. When I was manic, I could stand my ground and even advance forward. When I was manic, I could understand each of my Voices so much clearer, more distinctly, more separately, and recognize them for who they are, what their roles are in my head. When I was manic, I didn't have to pretend to laugh. When I was manic, I had ideas coming out of me so fast I couldn't write them down quick enough. Yes, I had bugs crawling on my skin, and I skipped town without telling anyone anything, and I burned the hell out of myself and not only didn't notice, I didn't give a flying... fart. And I forgot to pay the bills. But I had energy!! I had LIFE!!

I think I am only mentally ill because I choose to be. I choose my thoughts, or so I've read. I choose my actions, as I have been told. I should be able to just be better. It is only because nothing has triggered my tipping point to make me get off my fat lazy ass and change my ways. It is weakness and choice that is causing my symptoms. I need to snap out of this. I need to suck it up and do it anyway. I need to grow up.

My entire life is fiction. Nothing I say is the truth and nothing I have lived through really happened. It's all just one big story, with me as the "poor unfortunate soul" in the center trying to get attention in all the wrong ways.

I could do it. I could get better. I could let myself think the good things. I could consider the possibilities. I could grow and evolve and heal.

I could do it. I could take every pill in every bottle and go to sleep and this time I wouldn't wake up and have to live with the results. I'd be gone and whatever mess is left behind would no longer be my problem. I could do it.

I love my children more than I love myself. I would kill to protect them where I wouldn't raise a hand in my own defense. I want to be the kind of Mommy they deserve. I want to do the right things at the right time in the right way. And I'm not.

"I want to change the world. Instead I sleep." from Ingrid Michaelson's song "Keep Breathing" in which I swear she had picked my brain and spilled it out to music. "All I can do is keep breathing..."

What would happen if I quit? If I just stopped trying. I could go away and never bother coming back and not leave anyone in charge. Just stare at the ceiling and never have to see it. Never speak again... never think again... never fight again...

Why am I so fascinated and drawn to actors, okay, hot actors? I get sucked into their characters, pulled in to their eyes and their storylines. Then I have to know more. I have to know how much of the actor is in the character and the other way around? Who is the actor and how does he become the character? What kind of person does it take to become so many different kinds of people, live them, breathe them, feel them, think them... then not be them and move on? Patrick Dempsey is hot. And McDreamy is the kind of guy no woman actually thinks exists anymore. But when you dig deeper - Patrick Dempsey and Derek Shepard aren't that different. And the mystery fades. (Even though the butt and eyes and smile and integrity are still HOT!!) Jensen Ackles is hot. And Alec is dark, broody, self-involved, cocky, and HOT! And Dean is cocky and self-assured and more troubled than he cares to show and more sensitive than he'd ever admit. I haven't seen him on the other shows. And I can't quite get a read on Jensen Ackles. Alec and Dean are like shades of each other. Is this just Jensen with a storyline? No fun... Johnny Depp has the potential to be HOT. Captain Jack Sparrow has irresistible charm but Willy Wonka kinda makes me vomit a little in the back of my throat. Gilbert Grape is deep and carries the weight of the world but Edward Scissorhands is just scared and lonely. And then there are the interviews with Johnny Depp. He is all of them and none of them and he is fascinating beyond belief! I get so involved with these characters and what makes them tick until I dig so deep I run into the actors and then I have to keep digging until I understand what makes them who they are. Perhaps I shall give up this anonymous life as a SAHM from the Midwest and become a celebrity stalker... ;-)

Why, when all I want is to be invisible and left alone, do I fantasize about being noticed by the people who never notice people like me? I would die of embarrassment if a celebrity spoke to me. I almost cracked when I got a call from a politician on the campaign trail... I don't ever want to be seen, let alone by someone important, someone who has a million people to see. And yet I secretly wonder what if I was noticed by someone like that? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!??!

I want to change the world... instead, I sleep.

All these thoughts and more bounce and roll around in my head, sometimes taking turns, sometimes colliding all at once. Sometimes they play off each other, one triggering the next or defending the last. I'm tired of thinking. I'm tired of thinking the wrong things. I'm tired of thinking and not getting anywhere. I don't want to think any more. I want a lobotomy... I hear the brain transplants haven't made it out of clinical trials yet.

"I want to change the world. Instead I sleep....... All I can do is keeping breathing." ("Keep Breathing", Ingrid Michaelson)

When Good News is Bad News and Bad News is Good News

Took Kid-3 to the pediatric urologist today down at Riley's Children's Hospital. I've been so freaked out about this test and doing everything in my power to now let him know how scared I am. Apparently it worked as he was not at all nervous - he was just bored, bored, bored!! And the test went very smoothly. It was actually really cool to watch - the xray of the contrast in the bladder and everything. It was, from a technical perspective, really cool. The results were of interest as well.

The good news is, Kid-3's bladder is actually pretty okay. It's obviously been having some issues but from the urologist's standpoint, all his plumbing is present and working.

The bad news is it appears the issue is more complicated than retraining the bladder muscles or something similar. His stools just aren't moving right, despite medication and diet, and that is screwing with the waterworks. So we get to trot off to a different specialist, a pediatric gastro-neurologist. And we may have a lead on the underlying problem.

It turns out my perfect baby boy actually has a minor structural birth defect. It's called spinal bifida occult. It means that the spinal column way down at the bottom of the spine has an area where it didn't fully close. There is a small gap where there should be a small ridge. And it *might* mean that some nerves are exposed or a fatty mass has developed at the site and infringing on the nerves. That could be causing the bowel problems. First thing to do is get an MRI to find out just how extensive this spinal bifida occult thing is and whether or not the nerves might be affected by it. We'll go from there with the new specialist...

spinal bifida...

that's one of those horror potentials the OB warns you about when you are pregnant. A worst case scenario of things that could go wrong. The Spinal column doesn't close and all the nerves and stuff that should be inside of it have no place to be. It can be a lethal birth defect, or 100% disabling, or a major problem... but no one ever said it could be really small and undetected until age 8 and then because of a different issue.

It sounds so scary to say that my son has a form of spinal bifida. But really, it isn't as bad as it sounds. And perhaps i we can define the problem, we can fix or minimize it.

Part of me is saying, "DID I DO THIS? DID I CAUSE THIS IN HIM BECAUSE OF SOMETHING I DID WHILE PREGNANT?"

Part of me is saying, "Thank you, God, for helping us move one step closer to finding a solution to this complication and for showing me how much I have to be thankful for in the faintest shadow of what could have been but is not."

I am actively choosing to thank God.

Silence Reflection

In silence there is protection, safety and anonymity. In deflection, there is reflection, a chance to observe, apply and imitate. By reaching out to lift up another, the opportunity presents to be lifted up alongside them.

I want to know about other people. I want to watch the way they move and notice the little things that mean so much but no one else bothers to pay attention to. I want to hear them talk, listen to the things they say with their words and the things they say with everything else. I want to understand their thoughts, trace them back to their origins, and maybe watch them evolve to a better place. I want to know where they've been, where they are and where they're going. And I want to know why...

I can take everything I learn about people and apply it to everything I know about myself. I can take insights from their lives and illuminate my own. I can watch their progress and learn how to create my own. I can see their mistakes and all the things that surround them, understand why things happened with, for or to them and examine my own mistakes. For everyone is a mirror. They reflect back to me that which is inside me and I can reflect back to them that which they already possess.

This morning the shrink stumbled and fell right into success. I have an extremely difficult time thinking he creates some of these situations with intent, although I am certain he is guided by instinct and confident that he is causing no harm in his accidental successes.

This morning I realized that he has awoken something entirely new (or else very long forgotten) deep inside me, so deep that it lies in that place I am afraid to look at. I realized that I am starting to think in terms of potential - my own potential. As in, maybe I have some potential for good in me. It frightens me to think something so intensely positive about myself - I keep waiting for it to be beaten out of me. But the spark has lit an ember and I am almost willing to entertain the notion of roasting s'mores over a thriving bonfire.

"Hate me today. Hate me tomorrow. Hate me for all the things I never did for you." ("Hate Me" by Blue October)

Music Speaks My Minds

Sometimes I think that my mp3 player creeps inside my head and plays the songs that my heart needs to hear or my brain is already thinking. I think I could have an entire therapy session where I speak in nothing but quotes from movies, books and songs. It would go something like this:

Shrink: How are you feeling today?
Me: "I had a bad day."
Shrink: I'It happens.
Me: "All I can do is keep breathing."
Shrink: Well, breathing is good. It's a good place to start.
Me: "I want to change the world!"
Shrink: We all change the world by our very presence. We influence others and they influence us.
Me: "I hate everyone."
Shrink: It takes a lot of energy to hold on to that intensity of emotion.
Me: "Instead I sleep."
Shrink: Is there perhaps a better way to approach this?
Me: "I think it's about forgiveness..."
Shrink: I think you're right. Now, forgiving them - or yourself?
Me: "Who I am hates who I've been."
Shrink: What can we do to fix that?
Me: "Hate me today. Hate me tomorrow..."
Shrink: That sounds a bit counter-productive. Is there another option?
Me: "Don't worry. Be happy?"
Shrink: Very idealistic but how can we get there?
Me: "Breathe in and breathe out."
Shrink: Helpful, what else?
Me: "Don't give up?"
Shrink: I like the sound of that one. Maybe it would help to address the anger, face it, and let it go. Think of one person specifically you are angry with. What would you say to that person if you could?
Me: "Most of all - I hate, I HATE you!"
Shrink: Very strong and assertive. Which person did you pick?
Me: "This animal I have become."
Shrink: So your anger is actually directed at yourself?
Me: "I hate everyone."
Shrink: I take it you are actually referring to everyone inside your head? Why the intense anger at yourself?
Me: "I would have stayed up all night had I known how to save a life."
Shrink: And you didn't save that life so now you hate yourself to such a violent extreme?
Me: "That's one thing I won't touch again."
Shrink: But you are touching by holding it against yourself to the point of hurting yourself over it.
Me: "I'm not crazy. I'm just a little unwell."
Shrink: I didn't say you were crazy; I said you are holding on to your past mistakes and hurting yourself with them over and over. You don't have to do that. You can release this now, forgive yourself and let yourself move on.
Me: "Who says you can't go home?"
Shrink: The past is not home.
Me: "This house is not a home."
Shrink: The past is memory, history, undeniable but unchangeable.
Me: "All I can do is keep breathing."
Shrink: And forgive yourself so you can move on.
Me: "I'll drive so f*cking far away that I never cross your mind."
Shrink: You've been trying to outrun this for years. Is it working for you?
Me: "It's just the weight of the world."
Shrink: It doesn't have to be that heavy.
Me: "It's a small world..."
Shrink: It's a decision. It's over. Time to make new choices about right now.
Me: "It's now or never?"
Shrink: Something like that...
Me: "I'll tell myself I'm Novocaine."
Shrink: Back to the extremes, but it doesn't have to be like that either. You made a choice and you regret the choice but you can't go back. You can't fix this by holding onto to the pain of it.
Me: "It's never too late."
Shrink: It's too late to change the past but you can choose a better future. Will you work with me to let this go?
Me: "I will let you down. Trust me: I will let you down."
Shrink: We'll start small and go from there. This week, try not to hurt yourself, okay?
Me: "Pain - can't get enough."
Shrink: But as you've said before, it doesn't help anything. So what can you do to keep from hurting yourself?
Me: "I'm sending a letter to God."
Shrink: Really? What are you going to say?
Me: "Please, God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away from here."
Shrink: The running away again. Anything else?
Me: "The rest is still unwritten."
Shrink: Okay, what other coping techniques could you use?
Me: "Keep breathing."
Shrink: Good idea. How about we think of some good thoughts to hold onto. What is it your kids are always telling you?
Me: "You are loved."
Shrink: That's right. And what can you tell those self-harm urges?
Me: "You have no power over me."
Shrink: Exactly! And to cheer yourself up?
Me: "Get stoned!!"
Shrink: Ha Ha. Try again...
Me: "Give a little whistle?"
Shrink: Better. Now how do you feel?
Me: "In over my head."
Shrink: You can do this. I have confidence in you. I see that we are out of time so I guess we should...
Me: "Move along?"
Shrink: I wouldn't have put it that way, but okay. See you next week?
Me: "I wanna stay home..."
Shrink: But you'll be here anyway, right?
Me: "As you wish..."

See? And that's just the stuff I got around to writing down. I could keep going but I'm bored and supposed to be doing NaNo so I'll leave it at that. And yes, I can tell you where each line comes from if you want. LOL

Oh, and no copyright infringement intended, everyone owns their own songs and all that legal stuff... ;-)

Quote for my frame of mind: "Even heroes have the right to bleed" ("Superman" by Five for Fighting)

"Just be yourself, and don't go chewing on the bones at supper!"

I am so tired of fighting. It shouldn't be this hard just to breathe. It shouldn't take this much mental effort just to stay alive every single day. I can't live up to the expectations on me, from myself or from others. I want to be all things to all people but they ask contradicting things of me and what should I think and do then? One person says I should assert myself and fight for what I want; another equally important person says I have to be a specific way to be healthy. And then throw in the guidance from my Guardian Angel and my shrink and my psychiatrist (many times all conflicting with each other.)

Often I am told to "be myself" but this strikes me a lot like the, question "How are you?" MOST of the time it's asked, it is simply a greeting. People don't actually want to know about the migraine or the fight with the kids or the overdue bills that can't be paid. And I'm finding out that when people tell me I should just "be myself" what they mean is that *I* should be a relatively content, moderately-successful, positive person with happy anecdotes to tell and a range of socially acceptable interests and hobbies. That is who *I* should be and, since I am therefore that person, I should "be myself."

What if I'm NOT that kind of person? What if "myself" means I am a pessimist by nature, selfish by habit and lazy at heart? I'm not successful and I'm not peppy and I have to rehearse happy anecdotes to recite. I have hobbies but nothing anyone else is interested in listening to me babble about. And my thoughts are anywhere but where people want them to be. So - what if "being myself" means not being a very nice person?

I have learned through the years the fine art of being a chameleon. I can "be" whoever I need to be depending on who I am around and what those people are expecting of me. If I'm around a Bible-thumper, I know enough to smile and nod in all the right places and pipe in a supportive statement here and there. If I'm around a Pagan, I know enough to understand the differences between Pagan and Wiccan and the concepts each follow. (I don't know all the gods or their specialties but I can usually bluff my way around that or just flat out ask.) It is the same with just about any religion. I don't have to agree with them and I almost never expand on MY actual religious beliefs, but I can hold a conversation that is meaningful and productive regardless of who I am talking to.

The same applies to behavior. Behavior in different circumstances can be learned. When I am in one place, I behave one way and another place another place gets another behavior. I conform to what those around me are doing. "When in Rome..." is practically my mantra. New situations scare me because I haven't had a chance to practice the expected behavior and have to try to learn it on the fly.

I practice conscious, active, non-judgement. No matter who I am talking to and how good or bad their actions have come across, I consciously work to understand where they are coming from. There are only a few things I absolutely cannot comprehend where someone is coming from. It doesn't mean I have to agree with or condone their behavior, but I can arrange myself accordingly so as not come across as condemning or judgmental.

I frequently end up in situations where I am doing things I don't care for and sometimes doing things that I actively think are wrong. I do have my limits and generally follow the guidelines that I will not cross any line where crossing it means someone else is going to get hurt. Sometimes that means doing things better than I would normally want and sometimes that means putting myself in compromising and upsetting situations. But no one else ends up hurting because of something *I* did.

I have confided this approach to life that I have to a couple of people and have met with resistance each time. They say I should "be myself" instead of changing my behavioral values to suit those around me. But what if "myself" IS changing my values to suit those around me? They say to be myself but only if that means being how they think I should be in which case - aren't I changing my values to suit their expectations just like I do in every other situation?

And what's so wrong with adapting anyways?! I do it so people don't get hurt and that, in turn, means *I* don't get hurt. I'm tired of hurting. I've tried "assertive" and assertive causes conflict and conflict causes pain. I don't like pain. So why do I have to do "assertive" in the first place?

I want to give up fighting the people who are telling me to fight. I want to just do what they want they want me to do. But I keep getting conflicting instructions. In the past I've always handled this by following the instructions of the person I'm around. But now I'm being specifically told that doing that is wrong.

"Be myself"

There is a line in the movie "Ever After" where Danielle says, "I hope they like me!" and the woman (servant/nanny/mother-type figure) says, "Just be yourself, be that little angel I know is in there somewhere... and don't go chewing on the bones at supper!" So she tells her to be herself, but only the right part of herself.

Everything I do, I do for someone else to some degree or other. The closest I come to doing something for me alone is write and even that is often done to please other people or to uphold what is seen as my role. Left to myself, to do what *I* truly want, I'd be dead. But like answering truthfully to the question, "How are you?" that is not the right answer. What a paradox... everyone telling me to be myself then telling me who I am is wrong.

Is it lying to think one thing and say another? To present oneself as one way when one feels completely different? Perhaps I am the biggest liar of everyone, even in my determined claim that I do not lie. But that is a subject for another post...

"I want to save the world; instead, I sleep....... all I can do is keep breathing. All I can do is keep breathing. All I can do is keep breathing....... now." (excerpts from "Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michaelson.

NaNoWriMo not so easy...

So I'm trying to do NaNoWriMo, as I said before. I thought I had a good premise down and was ready to roll with it - right up until it came time to write it. Then I realized that I had no idea what I was doing. I knew facts on a page. But there was no life in the story. I didn't feel the characters or know them at all. I could tell you what needed to happen in a given scene but not see and hear it play out.

To quote my daughter, "I don't roll like that!"

I tried wrapping my head around the story but there was no instinct in it. I tried forcing the answers but it didn't make anything click. Okay, no problem, don't panic, still lots of time.... Switched tactics and went for the backstory of one of my in-progress novels that I know very well. But I couldn't bring myself to NaNo it - it needs more time and care than NaNo can give. I gave it a try but it make me nervous. So I went back to Joe's Diner and gave it another whirl. Spit out another 700 words but it was still crap. So I back-tracked and thought I'd start a totally different story but couldn't come up with anything despite several "interesting" suggestions from Kid-2, my darling writer-in-training who is my polar opposite in writing styles. (I can't "write bright" to save my soul and she doesn't comprehend any story idea that isn't happy and perky! LOL) so I went back for yet a third attempt at the Diner. No dice.

By this time it is getting late on Sunday, November 4th. I should have close to 7,000 words by that time and I had 1200 - in 4 different story attempts. I was getting deperate. I couldn't FEEL it. I couldn't find what some part of me knew I SHOULD be writing. Something is out there, something I *should* be writing - I could FEEL it but not grab onto it. It was infuriating! I feel so strongly about doing NaNo this year and yet it had completely eluded me.

Then I thought - what if I tell MY story? (Actually Mary thought it but that's another story. LOL) Well, that sent me into a panicking tail-spin because a spark ignited at the idea and I didn't really want to have the idea in the first place. The more the idea battered at my desperate mind, the more I thought maybe I could make it work. I could change things, add some take away others, change names and places and jobs and houses. And I didn't necessarily EVER have to show it to anyone. When you sub your final novel for authentication to NaNo - you have to scramble it. And I am doing NaNo not for publication but for the rush of being in the zone and to say I DID IT!! So I don't care if no one ever reads it - I just want to say I DID IT!

So... I think I'm going for it. I'm changing a lot of what happened. Some of it I just can't look at too close. Some of it needs some spicing up and/or toning down to be more realistic. (Weird, isn't it, when RL is too unrealistic to be put down as is into fiction?! LOL) Some of it I'm changing just to prove that I am in control of the story and not the other way around. I'm hoping by doing this NaNo style, I can get it out quick, fast and without dwelling too long on any one thing. I may end up tipping myself over the edge but it's like Mary keeps reminding... fiction is a safer way to tell the truth. Made up stories can't hurt you. Uh... me.

So... I'm off to write. I don't know if it'll work, but I'm going to try!

"Don't tell me I don't have time! I'm a Time-Lord!" (Doctor Who)

"What Have You Got That's Worth Living For?"

That is what Miracle Max asks the mostly dead Man in Black (aka Wesley the poor and perfect farmboy, aka The Dread Pirate Roberts) in The Princess Bride.

"What's your dream? Ev'rybody come to Hollywood got a dream. What's your dream?" asks the guy on the street at the beginning and the end of Pretty Woman.

"You're no nice guy, Larry!" (to Larry Underwood from many people in SK's The Stand.

"It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Everyone knows that one.

And of course, arguably the most notorious contemplation of all: "To be, or not to be: that is the question:/ Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer/ The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,/ Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,/ And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;/ No more; and by a sleep to say we end/ The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks/ That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation/ Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;" (Hamlet 3/1)

So here's my own: Is it better to live for others than to not live at all?

Maybe it's just because I'm so damned tired and my head hurts so damned much but right now none of this seems worth it. The only reason I'm still living is because of the damage that would be caused if I intentionally stopped. I know that's not how it's supposed to be but it is the best I can do right now. And I am sure from everyone else's point of view, that my being alive for whatever reason it takes, is better than the alternative.

"What have you got that's worth living for?"

Everyone else. Not because they make me feel happy or because I get satisfaction knowing that I am making a difference in their lives, but because I don't want to be the ultimate screw-up and ruin lives their lives forever by donating all future oxygen consumption to a worthier cause.

The only thing that I remember from my initial round of hospital visits in late 2001 - early 2002 is the one leader-type guy asking the question: "If this is as a good as it gets, is it enough?" I still have no idea why he asked that or where he was going with it or how it was supposed to help a group of mentally disturbed psych ward patients, but his question haunts me because the immediate, resounding answer then is still the immediate, resounding answer now: NO!!

The first time I heard someone call suicide the ultimate act of selfishness, it baffled me. How could this person (and apparently everyone in the room) not see that suicide is sometimes for the good of everyone around the suicidal person? I have always thought the world would be a better place without me in it. The people around me could be happier, more free, less stressed, less burdened, and generally better off. I cause so much pain in others that it's hard to see how my death could be a selfish act when it would deliver them from that pain.

Another time that someone in the psych ward setting had a profound impact on me was when I was trying to explain to my case manager the depth of the guilt I feel at lending a reverse Midas touch to everything around me. She looked at me and she said, "Do you really think you have that much power to have made any difference at all in most of those situations?" Wow, that was a shock. She's right - I didn't mess those things up; I'm too insignificant to have even the smallest impact on them.

But the thing that had the biggest impact on my decision to stay was from my last hospital stay. One of the psych nurses told me that the suicide of a parent would permanently destroy a child and they would never be able to heal from it. So basically, I'm screwed on that front. Actually, my kids are screwed. They have to live with me and the failure that I am, or be destroyed by me.

How I wish I was dead. And I can't talk to anyone about it because all they can think about is how to keep me from killing myself. I'm not going to. I hate every thing about myself and am acutely aware of the damage I cause just by existing, but I brought those kids into the world and I won't destroy their souls by killing myself. But I think about it all the time. It would be so easy to just slip away, to let go and move away from this pain, both the pain inside me and the pain I create. And ultimately, I wouldn't be around to see their pain from my action. I would just be gone, into peaceful nothingness. I want that!! And it is out of my reach. I have to keep on breathing, every moment of every day, in silence to protect those I love.

"Somebody save me from this nightmare; I can't control myself!" (Animal I Have Become, Three Days Grace)

NANOWRIMO HERE I COME!!

The title of this year's NaNo novel is Joe's Diner: Baby Steps

I really want to do this. I want to write this story and I want to write it well. Okay, I'll settle for just writing it! LOL So why have I been stalling all day? I had kids this morning and the 2 hour delay and then I still have this bloody headache so I laid down on the couch for a few minutes (read hour and a half) while Baby napped. Of course then there was more Baby stuff to do and I finall sat down to write and my web browser was up and I ended up surfing for a little while. Realizing what I was doing, I kicked myself in my virtual ass and started to write. 308 words in, I went off to do more Baby stuff and find some more headache stuff. I came back to the computer and happened to notice I still had a YouTube window open. Well... I cn't resist a good YouTube window and spent another half an hour drooling over Jensen Ackles clips and wondering desparately why I can't see a person behind his acting. Who is this guy that he has his acting face on all the time? I have seen a few pictures of him that are definately a person and not an actor but rare and they are brief snapshops. WHO IS THIS GUY??!

Oh wait... I'm supposed to be writing. WWWAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!

Alright, back to the diner...

"Come on in for a cuppa Joe!" (sign in the window of Joe's Diner)

In the Land of Eternal Headaches...

Again with this bloody headache! I don't know what to do for it. Every day I dose it up with as much stuff as I can take and it might sometimes think about easing off for a few hours but it never stays gone. It's like a tension migraine: the too tight scalp combined with the sledge-hammer throb in the right temple. I've been chewing on promezathine like candy to keep from vomiting and it mostly works - mostly. I'm so tired of the constant pain though. I am to the point where I can barely function through them. I had all the best intentions of shutting off processing and just doing what needs to be done and while I have partly succeeded, I have not done so with areas that matter. I have shut out the poor-me and turned off the don't-think-about-this-because-it-hurts parts but I can't get past this headache and if I try to get up and do anything, I end up throwing up.

I remember there was a time when my head didn't hurt all the time but even though it hasn't been that long, I can't remember what it feels like to be headache free. I have called and made an appointment with the neurologist but the appointment isn't until November 12th (which is actually VERY quick for this guy!!) so what do I do in the meantime? I have hit it with everything in my arsenal and I am out of heavy-hitters, actually, I am out of all narcotic pain medication of any kind. WAH! I want to go to bed and stay there!!

(was going to include the lyrics to or a clip of the song Pain by Three Days Grace until I went back and listened again and it's more about preferring to feel pain than nothing at all - kind of the opposite of of what I'm looking for right now...)

Reality Check

Okay, so doom and gloom isn't the answer and happy happy happy makes people nervous. So it's all about portraying a balance. I think I have a game plan.

Step One: STOP FEELING Since I haven't been able to convince myself to believe the good and stop dwelling on the bad, it's time to turn off that switch altogether. I know how to relax into things that don't feel good. I know how to count away the scary things. I know how to breathe away the panic attacks. It's time to put everything together and stop feeling. Shift the focus from trying to fight the bad or feel the good and onto the specific activities that will show I am OKAY.

Step Two: MAKE LISTS of everything. Plan out the thoughts and the activities and prepare the responses to the questions. Prep for the possibilities that don't come up often but might. Line up back up to create a seamless transition between auto-pilot and disaster recovery so that even the worst won't phase me. Write down the things I need to do and when and how to do them then just follow the list.

Step Three: PULL BACK If something comes up that I don't know how to handle, just pull back a little and transfer to auto-pilot. Don't fight anyone on anything. Just do what is being asked. If the thoughts and feelings try to out, pull away from them just enough to not let them hurt me.

Step Four: STEPFORD ACCOMPLISHED If I can short-circuit the thought-feeling connection, I can do whatever I need to do. I will be able to be who and what people need me to be and I don't have to hurt any more. It is the ultimate "fake it til you make it" and I can make this work...

This really is the best way to go. I can't keep going the way things are and this plan will work. I've already established that I am only still here because I can't hurt people by leaving so it's time to put my money where my mouth is. Live for those people I am trying to protect... it's going to be okay!