Hard to Hide My Crazy

 

Lately I find myself apologizing for my emotions and feelings.  In theory I shouldn't have to do that.

I am who I am and I do come with an amount of crazy.  I am not perfect.  I have tender feelings and am easily hurt.

There is large amounts of baggage that I am trying to work through but it is so hard.

There is so many layers of hurt feelings, mental abuse, trauma, and various other crappy things that lurk under my surface.  

I hate allowing anyone to get close because it has a tendency to surface and then I feel the need to apologize for it.

My insecurities come out and I question everything.  

I hate it.

Sometimes I think I need to come with a warning label,  

At the same time, I should be allowed to be me.  

I think we all come with certain levels of crazy.  We all have gone through shit we don't talk about.  

I do find myself wishing that I didn't feel the need to hide it.  It gets hard sometimes when I'm really tired or I have emotional overload.

My crazy comes out with jazz hands and a kazoo.

It's hard to hide it.

Rainy Days and Mondays

Some days are just hard.

If you read my posts a lot, you already know that and you also know that I write to help deal with my depression as it creeps in and out like an evil character.

I can't control it sometimes and I just have to feel it.  It hurts in a way that I cannot describe it.  There is no pill.  There is no relief.  I just my tools to limp through it.

It had been building up for a time.  I knew it was coming.  I've taken several blows to my psyche.  Failure and physical pain teamed with weather and financial stress was a recipe for an emotional shit storm.

Yesterday, it just came to a head.

One bad day can just tip it into the basket.

Today I woke up in a mood.  Crying and sad, I forced myself to get dressed and head to work.  I had hoped that it would pass as the day went along but no such luck.

When I was walking out to my car, the thoughts came.  The scary thoughts that may cause alarm to anyone if I had spoken them out loud.

"What if I just disappeared?"

"What if I just ended it?"

"No one cares."

"The pain just needs to end."

"I'm always so alone."

You get the idea.

Now, I would never ever hurt myself or end my life but those thoughts do pop in the head.  I'm sure if I didn't understand that depression lies, that I probably would do something to harm myself.

I just have to let the thoughts come so that they can go.

There are times where the fight is difficult.

There are times when I feel that I give more of myself to others than I receive.  It takes a toll on me and it becomes hard to take care of myself first and that I need to give myself to me first.

I always find it interesting that people will mention that I look tired.  I am tired.  Fighting my own demons is exhausting.  I can never say that to them.  I just agree that I am tired and continue on.

At least I acknowledge my struggles and understand them.  I know that it isn't easy for others.

Tomorrow is another day and it is one day closer to getting past this round.

https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

A Beautiful Emotional Mess

I dropped my Coke on the garage floor and stood over it and cried.

I'm a mess emotionally lately.

I haven't been sleeping.  I haven't been eating.

I put on a happy face and fake it to the world but in private, my face is sad.

I feel so alone lately.

I worry that it is only going to get worse.  My son is grown and moved out.  My daughter is a teenager and doing her own thing.

I read some where that loneliness is a faster cause of death than smoking. 

I miss having someone to love and to love me as I deserve.  This time of year is the hardest.  

I tend to feel unlovable and worthless.  I feel that men never want to be the person that I deserve.  I just build a wall around myself and wallow in my self pity.

Hell, I fear commitment.  Every relationship I've had just blew up into ugly.

But I can't just give up.

So I stood over my Coke and cried.

Aftermath

It has been a few days since I had my horrible episode of depression.  I wrote about it here: The Face of Depression

Since writing that entry, I have received several messages from people I didn't expect.  It was nice to hear that I am not alone and that I am truly cared for.  

I didn't write it for attention or for any sincere comments.  I wrote it for others to understand that they do not suffer alone.  I wrote it for those who thought what they were feeling was unusual or weird.  I also wrote it for those who do not understand what it is like to suffer with depression.

I received a call from someone close to me.  They thought that I shouldn't have written it and/or shared it with anyone.  

This was upsetting.

It took some courage to express what I was feeling.  It also helped me out of the black hole.

If what I write saves one person from jumping off the cliff, then I think that it was the right thing to do.

I am feeling a little better as of this writing.  It takes time to heal.

I did call my doctor.  These feelings of self harm have been strong.  We have come to the conclusion that because of being taken off my birth control, it has caused some serious hormonal imbalances.  

The last episode of insanity happened about this same time last month.

No joke.

I damn near lost someone who means the world to me just because my brain decided to malfunction and my voice of reason took a vacation.

I didn't write about it.  I didn't talk about it.  But it happened.  

I am thankful for their understanding and forgiveness.  A true friend is a very valuable treasure.

My doctor and I have decided to monitor my imbalance with no change in medication.  If we don't allow the hormones to find a way to chill on their own, we may need to address it again.

For now, I have a support system in place.  My system includes carrying the suicide hotline number with me at all times.

For now, I have survived another battle but still continue to fight the war.

Suicide Prevention Hotline

800-273-8255

Anger in Grief

I haven't blogged in awhile.

My laptop took a crap and I am using my son's, which isn't the easiest to use.  As I type, the cursor moves around and typos happen.

I also haven't had much to say.  Who wants to hear about my adventures in fondling tomatoes and inspecting bananas?

Anyway....

This time of year is graduation.  It is a happy time for families and students.

As I scrolled through my Facebook feed the other day I came across a photo of my aunt and uncle with their granddaughter.  I teared up suddenly.  My aunt looks so much like my mother.  The same salt and pepper hair, the same shape face.  I starred at the photo.  My cousin's daughter reminds me of my own with long brown hair and a wide smile.  I cried.

My mother died a few years ago from lung cancer.  I never really sobbed over it.  I don't think I grieved like you would imagine what grieving would be like.  It is weird and hard to explain.  I just expected to break down but I never did.

Back to the photo...

I think my tears came from anger.  I am angry at my mom for dying.  It is such a raw and real emotion.  It came from just picturing my own mother and daughter on Kate's graduation day.  This will never happen.

I used to think my mom would be around to share in my children's life events.

I think what angers me the most is that she was so selfish to not see a doctor sooner or to take better care of herself.  She admitted that she hadn't seen a doctor of 17 years prior to the cancer diagnosis.

Maybe is a normal feeling to be angry.

I also think I am thinking more of missing my mother because I have been through some rough times over the last couple of years.  There are times I wish I could just call her.  She had a way of talking you off the ledge and give you a sense that everything will be ok.

Sigh...