BOO! Being ghosted….

The worst part of being a single person is ghosting. I’m sure women ghost but I haven’t even attempted. The worst part is being ghosted by someone who is a “friend”. It is like a double stab. You know me! You know why I’m crazy! You have heard me complain!

You said we have never really given ourselves a chance. You say that I am the one that pulls away. I call bull. You are the one who has pulled away since the last time we saw each other.

Mental warfare is stupid. It hurts me most of all. I makes me wonder if you have a soul, a heart, a conscious or if you just like the milk and tolerate the cow.

This time it won’t be me…..I’m not chasing you and I’m not ignoring you. But if you are not willing to reach out then I’m not going to start conversation after starting it all this week. You know how I feel. You know what this type of behavior does to me. You are the one being a dick. And I’m going for a run with my power songs so there.

Human Error

All of my meds are on auto refill because I cannot adult. Which works great except for human error like the one who picked up the refill and then put it in the medicine cabinet on the wrong shelf and never saw it and thought the pharmacy messed up and spent a week without one medicine. You would think with everything else I’m on that one 20 mg pill would not be missed but it was and possible is extremely necessary. The worst part is you cannot apologize for everything you may have messed up because of the mental health stigma. Sorry I was so crazy I forgot I had a medication and was with out it for a week doesn’t go over well at work. It is easier to just blame it on stress.

Miss me?

Well it has been awhile since I have posted. I’m sure people wondered what happened. Things got worse, things got better, things are spiraling and I felt compelled to write again.

This is my safe space. My anonymous hole in the Internet wall of the world wide web where I can air my thoughts and give myself comfort knowing I put it out there. My support circle of real people has shrunk and is practically non-existent because they don’t know how to support me. They don’t know what to say, they want me to tell them how to support me. But I can’t. If I knew what I needed or how to let go I would be free and not feeling so heavy.

Of course what do you say to someone when they finally tell you the pain has been so bad they started cutting so the outside would match the inside. No mom knows what to say to that. At least mine doesn’t. Most friends don’t know either.

I got a dog to help but today it is rainy so I can do a post work walk. I’ve gained weight. I got a new job. I have been getting sick pretty much with the changes of every season and with my state that is like 12 seasons since the state routinely try to have all the typical 4 seasons in one month.

I am a mess of a person. I hold on to everything. I am crying at the drop of anything and I don’t want to eat. I just want to sleep but thanks to the healthcare system I still have 30 days before I can get help.

Are you there…..?

Faith. It is abstract and complex. Like hope. Can you have one with out the other? Where do you start when you seem to have lost hope? How do you have faith with no hope for what will come?

2021 was a complex year. Some things improved, somethings never changed. I know I have become more angry over what the leaders of my part of the world are doing. They are only interested in self preservation which makes since but If we all act like this what kind of world do we have?

When do you admit defeat that the world is doomed and no matter how hard you try or desire, change will not happen?

50 Shades, darker yet never freed

Alone, I’m alone. I don’t handle this well. There was hope. then it was dashed. Rekindled slightly but the bottom line is that he doesn’t need me. At least Christian Grey actually loved Ana. He just want a sub to make cry. Problem is we do this dance all the time. The bigger problem is I stupidly love you or I pathetically hang on so that I can feel something. what can I do?

Deep Thoughts

Last night was a bit rough. I spiraled down but managed to stop it a bit. My therapist have always said that I have to get past the hurt and the pain and the angry of the divorce before I can let new love in. But after a week of being alone with my thoughts on spring break, I realized something in my spiral. I can’t let go….I’m afraid to let go….letting go means being ok with myself and the coparenting relationship. It is like admitting that he can function as a father and take care of my baby (who gets older everyday and is less breakable at 13 yrs than 13 months).

What I am most scared of is that if I become ok with that ideal then I have nothing left. I get up everyday because I can’t bear the thought of killing myself and forcing my child to live with his father. But if I surrender to letting go, what do I have to hold onto? What motivation do I have to continue on a path that is empty, a void, because there is nothing there. I have endured so much that I have no light left. I am an empty shell.

But to play devil’s advocate, I should “by letting go” be riding myself of the pain that makes me hurt so much inside that cutting seems like a release. Olivia O’ Brien’s “Empty” and Weezer’s “Ain’t Got Nobody” speak to something in me.

I am a mess.

being right….bittersweet

Ah being right should be some what satisfying. But then again when the being right means that you are not chosen, well ya feel slightly defeated. And you want to just go crazy and you know that if you do it won’t solve anything and it probably is why you couldn’t be chosen. so thought rattle thru your brain, and you default to the old routine of not pretty enough, not smart enough, not thin enough, not confident enough, not funny enough….it really kinda sucks to be stuck. but getting unstuck seems to hard and unknown and unfamiliar.

Can you heal when you don’t have the strength?

Climbing towards……what?

I just finished the Angry Therapist’s Single on Purpose. It’s been helpful, but also confusing. Which I suppose is the hard part. If working on yourself was easy, mental illness would have a quick fix. Instead it is hard.

Things I have been able to do is try to get back to things that make be feel good. I have moved more this week and enjoyed my workouts. I even went for a run today. I have been playing Spotify instead of the TV. I made a huge list of things to do over Spring Break (this week will be hard, my son is not with me and it is COVID still and I’m not fully vaccinated and not super comfy with being out and about).

I have been trying to get past what I “think” I should be doing because of social opinions. Part of that has lead to tears and pain. I’ve been trying to get out of my head, but that is f@#king hard as it is the bane of my mental illness.

Where will this week go? How can I define things that I have not experienced? The Angry Therapist talks about redefining love…but I suppose I need to first define who I am. sigh…..can I rebuild and climb towards defining me? it’s gonna be work…..the alternative is being empty, depressed, void of life. untrue to who I am…..

WHO AM I?

life as it is now

Yesterday started well. Then as most memorials go, it ended on a sad note. I had trouble going to sleep. I felt like I over talked. I shared too much. We were remembering our friend who in May committed suicide admit the Covid 19 isolation and left behind a wife, two young kids and so many friends. We talked about all of our fun memories, our hurts and joys. One friend shared how he had considered suicide and then I shared about how I feel sometimes and I when it was time to start going to bed, all I could think was that I over shared, that it was out of line for me to share, and that it wasn’t helpful.

I identify a lot with my friend who committed suicide. When my world is crashing all around, I often think he is brave. He is at peace. His pain is gone. New pain for those left behind is there but his pain is gone. That inner pain I know too well. It is overwhelming. It is a dark slide that you can’t seem to climb up.

Hopeless. Hopelessness. where we are now.

Alone in the Dark

I’m here alone in the dark typing this and wondering how I will sleep. I called my mother. Why? I do not know. I don’t think I will ever learn. Perhaps I call because I feel that is what you should do – call your mother for comfort. And then I end up a bawling, screaming mess who typically just hangs up. My mother doesn’t understand. She will NEVER understand and I truly believe now, she doesn’t want to understand. She has never been able to love me there way I want to be loved. She doesn’t love me the way I love my son. don’t even get me started on my father.

I have so much pain right now. I took two pills in hopes it will quiet my mind and take my focus off the pain. But all I can think about is how much my head hurts, my heart hurts and how much they have been hurting. I wish the pain I feel on the inside would appear on the outside. I was going to get the kitchen knife but I came here to the laptop instead. now I have to make sure I remember to tell my psychiatrist that I thought about cutting again.

The cards are always stacked against me. I try so hard to look at the positive but I teach (preschool at that) so I get paid less than 2,100 a month. half of that goes to rent, another $110 goes to electricity and heat, another $130 is internet and phone, another $200 is banked for for future expenses (car insurance, personal property tax, life insurance) $50 to retirement, $190 for car payment. That leaves about $400 and that has to go to CC debt. Hence why I have been selling plasma quite regularly due to needing $ for food, gas, Rx, Dr copays, etc. I don’t get paid well to do what I enjoy. But to not do what I enjoy would make me even more miserable than I already am. I would be in a new circle of hell if I did a job just for the money.

I really want to try neurofeedback therapy but that is not covered by insurance……big surprise because why take care of the brains of our human race. I suppose it is insurance’s twisted survival of the fittest. If we don’t cover things that the big pharmicudical companies contribute to then we can clean out a lot of the population. The worst part is that the one thing that keeps me alive is ripped from me 50% of the time because of the courts and I also have to allow him time to play with friends and grandparents. voila I get left alone again.

Once I was ok, and now I’m downing in failure again. Of course today I had to be in the same room as my ex for orthodontics consult. Cue the PTSD, racing heart, about to puke, can’t focus. edgy. Then add on the expense of the wires etc, really the orthodontist should be pleased I didn’t puke when they told us our portion of the expenses.

I just need another whole income, not a bits and pieces income like my Beachbody, plasma donation, and babysitting is.