Spare change, anyone?

So I’m not that great with change and I don’t seem to do well when things don’t go as expected..  Half my time is spent trying to cope with my life turning out differently than I’d hoped, whether it’s an emotional component or a physical component, I come face-to-face every day with my alternate life and how differently it is than what I’d always wanted it to be..  Sometimes I question my own sanity, having to constantly ask for a rational mind to think through my reasoning for me so I don’t do something stupid or I don’t have a meltdown because I was being overly sensitive..  It’s exhausting..  Every second of every day my mind questions things, questioning what any rational person takes as a compliment or as encouragement..  It’s not that I question the sincerity, because I believe that’s there one hundred percent, it’s that I question how I could be worthy of such affection or devotion or level of care.. I’m always asking myself why a person spent time with me, did they do it at the behest of someone else?  Were they encouraged to do so because it was known how fragile a state I was in and that another person’s company would make me feel better?  That doesn’t actually happen and people don’t actually do that, but that’s how my brain works, never being able to process that a person would genuinely want to spend time with me of their own volition and as their own choice.. I’m always telling myself I’m not worthy, of anything, and I’m always believing..  It’s impossible to turn off those inner thoughts and that inner monologue, and they’re impossible to ignore..  It saps any hope I might’ve had in me right out; I’m of the thought that I’m unworthy of people’s time and affection and if that’s how my brain just works (chemistry, hormones, and all), then how can I possibly expect anything to change?

I’ve looked into alternative treatments, ones that a person with medication resistant mental illness would have as last options, and those aren’t possibilities either..  Theyre insanely expensive, but even beyond that, the odds of them being effective aren’t that great, and some could have serious and permanent side effects..  As if autobiographical memory loss wasn’t enough of a problem for me already, it’d be stupid to try a treatment with a strong likelihood of making that memory loss worse, and one that’s not got great chances of even working anyways!  It just seems foolish to me to try to scramble and find $15,000-$25,000 or more for these treatments (and that’s if I try just one!) that don’t even have a very good chance of being effective..  And those costs are just for initial treatment, that doesn’t include any additional treatment that might need to be done..  Plus, I’d probably still have to remain on some medication anyways, which would be part of the point of doing these alternative treatments in the first place..  It’s just ridiculous..

What’s also ridiculous is that I sometimes feel of a very sound mind and sometimes I don’t trust myself with my thoughts or judgement any further than I could throw myself!  But I can’t always distinguish which times I’m actually being reasonable and which times I’m not..  That’s why I need an outside source of guidance for my actions, I feel like I just can’t trust myself, and that’s a shitty place to be..

It’s especially difficult when I don’t have the wanted amount of time spent with my rule stick (my mother) to feel like I have enough outside influence in my decision making..  I hate to rely on her for so much, she’s got so many responsibilities already, she doesn’t need me hanging off her arm, constantly asking for her advice..  Not that she minds doing it, I don’t think she does, at all; but I feel guilty for taking that time and attention away from something or someone else more important than me who would need her more..

It’s just really difficult, like, all the time..  I used to be such an independent person, able to think for myself, make decisions on my own, and live happily with those choices..  Now I feel like I’ve been crippled, by mental illness, to the point where I’m a parasite..  I’m living off of others’ energy and sapping their life force right out of them..  I don’t know how to stop, I don’t know if I can stop..  And I feel like the longer time goes on, the older I get and more mentally unstable I get, the less chance there is for recovery..  I just feel utterly hopeless..  I know, in my heart of hearts, I’ll never have the strength or clarity of mind to be any sort of independent ever again and that bums me the hell out..  I don’t want to be that kind of burden on anyone for the rest of my life..  One day this is all going to just be too much for me and I’m gonna do the right thing by unburdening the world..  But for right now I’ll suffer through, in anything but silence..  My complaints are deafening, I’m sure, and I’m sorry for those of you who choose to listen..  I don’t understand why..  But I thank you for caring all the same..  It means more than you could ever know to think that even one person out there has concern and love for me, I just can’t comprehend it..

Reality check time..

So it seems I have a chronic problem, one among many, but I tend to underestimate how much people care about me..  And I guess it goes beyond that to the point where I underestimate the fact that people care about me at all..  It is beyond my comprehension that a person would want to invest time, energy, and love into a waste of space like me..  And I’m not saying that to be dramatic, I just don’t get it..  For whatever reason, be it mental illness or years upon years of debasing self-talk, I don’t feel worthy of people’s affection..  I always feel like my presence is putting someone off or is an inconvenience in some way..  I feel guilty for asking people to go out of their way specifically for me..

I don’t think I’ve ever felt like my “needs” were more important than or should be put above someone else’s..  I’m not trying to make myself look good and say I’m selfless, I’m saying I’m unimportant..  I’m more of an aside or afterthought type person than a number one..  I don’t deserve to be anybody’s number one concern..

I know I’m always reiterating how I feel like people aren’t destined for anything in particular and then in the next sentence I’ll, basically, say that I’m “destined” to be unwed, unloved, and alone..  It’s how I always am, I guess; holding people up to standards or rules that are different than the ones I hold myself up against..  Saying people aren’t bound by “destiny”, but that I am..  It doesn’t make sense..  The standards I hold myself to are different than those I hold others to..  They are afforded mistakes and failures, while I am not; and when I make a mistake I’m the dumbest person alive..  That’s what I tell myself, that’s my thought process and how my mind works..  It’s not just words, it’s a belief – I am the dumbest or ugliest or most awkward or whatever..  In my mind and in my heart it’s true..


I’ve been told I have a way with words, or something to that effect, but I’m not so sure..  Once-upon-a-time I wanted to be a writer (think C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkien), but I grew up and realized dreams don’t come true, real life happens instead..  I wouldn’t have the mental acuity or clarity of mind to even be able to get through college courses, so how would I even learn how to write? There’s more than passion involved in “making dreams come true”..  Besides, only a handful of people ever achieve what they would describe as their dream or purpose..  I don’t have the smarts or follow-through..  I don’t feel like I’d be able to stay in it for the long haul, not that the desire wouldn’t be there, but that the reality of my actual capabilities would become glaringly obvious, if they weren’t in the first place, and I’d not have the perseverance to stick it out, especially since I know that everything I’d write would be a big flop anyways, even if I did somehow get through additional schooling and writing and refining and then to the point of submission for publication..

And yes, I’ve given it some thought..  I think about a lot of things..  Deep things, dark things..  I think of what might have been, if there are any what-could-be’s..  It always comes back around to me not having much hope for a bright future..  People are always saying things like “life is what you make it” or the whole lemons to lemonade crap, and I’d say that generally that’s possible for people, but I’m not most people, I’m not anybody else or like anybody else..  I guess that might be the sort of double standard thing I’ve got going on, but I just don’t see myself capable of doing anything with my life or of even pursuing my once passion, because the only thing I can be passionate about right now is survival..  That’s what life is for me, day in and day out..  I focus on minute to minute survival..  Do I sometimes feel like I’m too much of a burden to those around me?  Hell yeah, a lot of the time actually..  Do I feel they’re wasting time concerning themselves with me?  Sometimes..  I’m not worth it, I don’t have enough redeeming qualities to make up for their energy put into me..  I question how they could possibly get anything positive out of spending time with me when I’m always so negative and depressed..  I feel like I’m always complaining, or I’m perceived to always be complaining..  I see myself as a jaded, unloveable person, who has been naive in allowing any hope in her heart at all..  There’s no room for it there, it only leads to heartbreak, devastation, and disappointment..

So, life sucks, but …

… well, is there a but?  For most people I’m sure there is a but, or a lot of buts..  For me, admittedly, it’s difficult to see “the good things” in life..  Beyond being thankful for being alive and for basic human needs I am extremely, insanely, beyond words thankful for my family!  There’s no question that without them I wouldn’t be here, as in alive..  I may not always feel close to them, but I’m closer to my family than anybody else..  They’re my link between me and the outside world..  I cannot even begin to describe how much I love them or how much they mean to me..  I can only hope that I mean the same to them, all of them, as they mean to me..

I don’t think a moment goes by where I’m not loathing myself, who I am..  I hate that I can’t make connections with people or that I’m awkward and say stupid, out of place things..  I feel so inferior, in every way, to pretty much everybody, but especially when measured against my family..  They’re dedicated, hard workers that always persevere and have the strength to get through with an optimistic outlook..  I feel like people think all I’m capable of doing is wallowing in self-pity because life is hard and didn’t turn out the way I had always imagined..  I feel like I’m gonna be looked at like I’m always “complaining” instead of trying to make the world understand life from my perspective..  I was once told, by a “psychiatrist”, that I “play the victim”..  Insinuating that I like to feel horrible all the time, that I want people to feel sorry for me and to do everything for me, that I somehow enjoy the twisted thoughts that go through my head and the staggeringly depressing emotions that flood my veins..  I was describing to her the psychosis I was experiencing that made me feel unsafe in my own home and she, very coldly, told me that my fears might be warranted, that I might actually have reason to be afraid..  She floored me and made me feel so vulnerable and scared..  With that statement she validated my feelings of being unsafe, like she was saying that the dark presence I almost always felt in the room was really there and that I should be afraid..  She obviously didn’t care about the damage she did with those few words, but she made me think my psychosis was very real and she made me question the validity of my mental illness..  I don’t even remember her name or what she looked like, but I’ll never forget her words, the pain she caused me..  I often hear those words ringing in my head, questioning how much of what is wrong with me is mental illness and how much is my own deficiency..

If you were to ask me to come up with five things I like about myself I wouldn’t be able to name them..  If you were to ask me to name three I don’t think I’d find that many..  I’m told that it’s all about fighting the negative thoughts and controlling the inner dialog, but when, since you’ve been conscious enough to remember, you feel that you don’t measure up it’s difficult to battle and not succumb..  I know that it’s my own unrealistic standards that I’ve imposed upon myself that I fail to live up to, but that doesn’t matter, rational thinking often goes flying out the window..  I often wonder if I’m subconsciously manipulative, selfishly trying to work things out in my favor..  Am I only ever concerned with my own needs and not those of the ones around me?  Am I self-absorbed?  Am I a selfish person who only sees my own struggles and fails to comprehend and understand the difficulties my family is going through?

I’m an inward thinker, but does that make me a selfish person?  I’m not outgoing, I’m not bubbly, I’m a deep thinker who likes to analyze things, maybe even overanalyze..  I want a deep connection with someone, a mutual understanding of who we are, but I am afraid of “putting myself out there”..  Everyone fears rejection, that doesn’t make me unique..  Everyone gets nervous, that doesn’t make me unique..  Everyone has been burned, that doesn’t make me unique either..  Here’s my thing, I have a debilitating anxiety disorder that makes me cripplingly afraid of experiencing those things again..  I wonder what would be the point of even trying..  I’m not necessarily one who believes in predetermination, but I do believe some people are just meant to be alone, never finding their “soul mate”, never making a life changing connection with someone, never getting married; and that’s me..  I used to pray, beg, plead for “the one”..  I did that for 15+ years, hoping for a guy to enter my life that I could share my life with..  And never an answered prayer; definitely not a yes, not a no, and not even a “not right now”, just nothing..  I don’t know how many nights I literally (foolishly) sobbed myself to sleep asking for an answer..  I still, to this day, have received no answer..  Which leads me more to question this :

Does God concern Himself with the daily workings, the daily lives of people?  Sure, He sacrificed His Son to save us, but are we such small, minute beings that He has too many other things to worry about?  Is our daily life on such a small scale that He doesn’t bother with it anymore?  Does He answer prayers?  If so, in what way(s)?  Is anything predestined or is everything a free-for-all?  We have free will to make our own choices, so why should we think that anything is already decided for our lives beforehand?  That wouldn’t give us free will anymore..  Why should we think that there’s a certain way things are supposed to turn out so we better make sure we make the right choices and follow the script?

Along the same vein, is it possible for people to change who they are?  Like, fundamentally, at their core..  I think most people can make just about any change they want if they “try hard enough”..  But what about people whose body chemistry is screwed up?  What about those whose hormones are out of whack?  What if there are people who deal with both?  How are they supposed to change “who they are” or how are they even supposed to know who they are?  What if there’s someone (say me, for example) whose body chemistry and hormones have always been incapable of being properly regulated?  Someone who almost feels like a different person every day, sometimes several times a day..  I often feel like I don’t even know myself, so how is anyone else supposed to?

I know, woe is me!, but I feel hopeless, helpless..  My body, which is deteriorating quicker than it should, is giving up on me, it’s rebelling against me..  I’m 34 and I’ve got arthritis in several spots on my body, I’m practically bald already, I’m tired and weak all the time (probably the fibromyalgia)..  I am, and have always been, hard to treat (any ailment, physical or mental), because my body is resistant to medication..  I often have to take a higher dose than most people or than is recommended on the box to get any relief..  Sometimes I wonder why I even bother?  If I’m doing so poorly then what’s the point?  How do I find happiness while dealing with all this, and that’s not even taking into consideration the stresses put on me because of what those around me deal with..  Knowing their pain, their sadness, their discomfort, and discontent and not being able to do anything is so difficult..  It makes me feel like I’m worthless..  Not only do I not have purpose in life, but I can’t make life any easier for those around me..  I feel like I don’t ever even do anything to make any one of them happier..  My body screams at me when I try to do anything even remotely physical, just walking up and down the stairs I feel (and HEAR!) the grinding of my knees..  My back hurts just from bending over a couple times or trying to carry a few loads of laundry or help empty the van after grocery shopping..  It’s not like an “oh that’s a little achy”, it’s like “holy crap, my back is seizing up and I can’t breathe!”  I guess this is more of my complaining and woe is me crap..  I dunno..  I often feel like my whole existence is pointless..  My family cares and they love me, I know this, but how do I positively impact their lives?  Do I at all?

Does God care if I’m still alive on Earth?  I don’t have purpose or, as I’ve posited before, is my purpose to suffer?  Am I one of those people who will always wrestle with my inner “demons”, so to speak..  Will I ever do anything meaningful?  Can I?  Am I capable, physically/ mentally, of doing anything but wallowing in my own misery?  Do I bring down those who try to help me and lift me up?  Surely any relationship with me is exhausting..  I must be a difficult person to connect with and be around..

It’s just that life sucks and is there a “but” …

Is there reason?

Do you ever feel like you’re failing to live up to God’s expectations or plans for you, for your life?  Maybe like you’re being punished for failing to fulfill your purpose..  Or even for failing to discover your purpose!  Maybe my purpose is to suffer, live in agony; that’s some people’s lot in life, right, their purpose even..  Maybe they go on to become someone who gets out of the muck and mire and serve a bigger purpose; to help people in some way, to fulfill a need, to serve the greater good..  I don’t think everyone is “destined” to do big things, or maybe even ‘one’ thing..  Yes, end of thought, no buts..  It’d be amazing if I had purpose in life, if I had a reason for being, for suffering..

I was doing so well – the new mix of meds was working so good, I felt great!  Then a sudden plummet, like the floor dropped out from underneath me..  I’m moody, sensitive, probably mean when I feel attacked or made to feel stupid..  I’m beginning to slide back into the part of me that feels like nobody really cares about me or thinks about me or feels anything for me..  Not that people want me out of their life, but that they just don’t care, they don’t even give me a second thought, except when I’m pissing and moaning and throwing a hissy fit like a toddler..  Then I’ll get the attention I so desperately desire, right?  It’s like I’m fishing for words of encouragement or for people to contradict me and say they really do care..  It all feels so hollow, like they feel obligated to soothe the fussing baby; just pat her gently on the back until she goes back to sleep, until her next big blow up when everybody rushes to her side to give her back her pacifier, to just shut her up..

I’m so thankful that my life isn’t worse, but why do I have to be in mental and emotional torment all the time?!  I get these little rays of hope, false moments of joy and peace..  I try so hard to guard against stupid, naive hope in things that just cannot be for me..  Nothing lasts, eventually the moments of peace come to an end, in a horrible burning pile of shit..  I just can’t live without torment, without debilitating sadness, without paralyzing anxiety, without crippling worry and fear..  That’s just not the life I’m destined to have..  I’m, evidently, going to suffer all my life..  I know what you’re thinking; everyone suffers, everyone experiences those feelings!  Yes, but do they keep you from living life?  Do they prevent you from having relationships?  Do they physically, PHYSICALLY, make it impossible for normal things to happen in your life?  And beyond that, do they stop you from being understood?  No, everyone has a friend similar to them, someone that they can relate to..  I am misunderstood, all the time..  I open my mouth and I’m looked at like I’m some freak of nature..  Maybe I am..

I reach out to people, multiple times on multiple occasions, and get nothing back, I’m literally ignored..  That fucking hurts!  Why can’t they be bothered to take five minutes out of their day to genuinely care about me?  Am I really that worthless?  If you’re even bothering to read this, which I seriously doubt, you ought to know who you are; and I want you to know how deeply you truly hurt me..  It’s a wound that will never fully heal, even if attempts to repair it are made..  I’m sorry you aren’t capable of giving a shit..

I’ve got such a terrible headache and a stomachache..  I’ve been crying, I’ve been opening up my soul, the inner parts of me that I don’t really want people to see… I get nothing..  I understand nothing..  Why am I even here?  Do I have more of a purpose than to be someone who can’t think of trying to face tomorrow when today I’ve felt so empty?  If I’m supposed to be called to do something specific, don’t you think that by age 34 I’d have an inkling of what that might be?  I’m called to languish..  That’s my lot..

Learn To Be Lonely…

That’s the title of a song by Andrew Lloyd Webber and it’s one of my favorites; well, used to be..  I used to feel such a deep physical ache in my chest when I would listen to this song because I could identify with the sadness, emptiness, and loneliness described in it..  I felt so alone, misunderstood, and hopeless..  I can’t do much about being misunderstood, but I don’t feel alone or as hopeless any more..  I’ve realized my family is there for me more than I thought..  I’m still quite skeptical of the idea of hope, feeling that I’ll end up being disappointed because nothing turns out the way I hope, or pray, that it would..  Maybe it could be said I lack the necessary faith for things to come to fruition, I don’t know..

This is stupid, but I used to want to sing, as something more than the occasional church solo..  But I wasn’t any good and I was definitely fooling myself to ever think I was..  I also used to LOVE to write, even more than singing, but I sucked at that, too..  I still have the desire to write, but I feel like, “why bother?  I’m no good at it and it’d serve no purpose to write just for me..”  I’m not smart enough to get into or get through college to get any sort of training to write, never mind the finances involved!

Anyways, it’s stupid to even think about it, totally pointless..  But the purpose of this post wasn’t supposed to be depressing me with the truth, I was writing to say that though I used to feel like that song could describe me, I no longer feel that way..  I’m not alone and I know that now..  And I’m neutral about hope, so that’s an improvement!  I don’t deserve the parents I have or anything else in my life, but I feel very fortunate to have them and I’m very thankful..  I’m sure I don’t say “thank you” enough and I’ll try to do better, but I’m sure there’s room for improvement for us all..

Speaking of saying thank you more often : thank you to those who actually take the time out of their day to read my blog and to make room in their hearts to care for me..  It means more than I can say..  I don’t know why you do it, but I’m thankful you do..

a positive take away…

And if you don’t mind

I’d like to live the lie

That I will survive



This is a line from a song that kind of sums up how I feel about my life right now..  I’m actively doing things to try to improve my physical health, I’m always working to improve my mental health, so we’ll see if any of it actually makes any difference at all or not..  I feel like it’s a losing battle, though; there’s too much damage done already and I’m constantly fighting symptoms and side effects..

But I’m gonna stop pissing and moaning..  Let’s focus on the good things in my life – since December of last year I’ve lost over 85 lbs, I’m finding renewed encouragement and inspiration from reading the Bible, I’m actually finding some energy to walk outside with mom (which isn’t easy considering I have a vitamin D deficiency and am dealing with folate anemia), my overall mood has improved lately (for whatever reason)..  I’m really trying to make some positive changes..  I’m just leery about this good status ending the same way that all the others have – in a major spiral downward, back into the depths..  I’ve been feeling so good that I don’t want to jinx myself and I don’t want to hope that it will last long term without the realization, in the back of my head, that it’s probably going to change eventually, like it always does..

I’ve been reading Psalms and finding it a good read..  I can relate to some of the emotions behind the writings and it’s been good to read those thoughts from someone else’s perspective..  And the inspiration I’ve been finding has been helpful, too..  I’m finding a renewed fervor to seek God out and build a stronger relationship with Him again..  I really missed that..  I didn’t always realize I missed it or needed it, but I do now and I’m trying; I figure that, for now, is good enough..

I’m always thankful for my family, without them I wouldn’t still be here..  I’m a very blessed individual and I just hope and pray that I can see the purpose for my sufferings, if there is one, and learn from it..  I’m not one who believes everything happens for a reason, that’s childish; sometimes shitty things happen for no reason at all, sometimes great things happen for no reason at all..  There’s not always a rhyme or reason behind the circumstances we find ourselves in..  I’m not a person who believes there’s a “one” for people that you’re destined to be with..  Love is a conscious choice and it takes conscious effort and work to foster a relationship that develops into something with good in it..  It’s a two-way street, 100% from both parties, to make it work..

But I digress..  Hehe..  I’ll end with this – I’m beyond grateful for what I have and who I have in my life..  I probably don’t always show it or express it, but I know it could be worse, I’ve been there, and come out on the other side..  I’m not sure how I feel about the saying that says : “that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”, but I do know I’m a stronger individual now than I’ve ever been before..  Maybe it’s because of my circumstances, maybe it’s because of who I have in my life, I don’t know; i am strong and I will persevere..  Thank you, Dad, for reminding me of my strength..

Life and Death..

I have been getting treatment for my back for years; some treatments working, some causing intolerable side effects..  One week ago I had an appt with my back dr and he prescribed an opioid patch for me to try..  They have a pharmacy on-site and filled the prescription for me that day, so I put a patch on as soon as I got home..  That night I slept for more than 12hrs straight, which is unheard of for me, because I usually have the opposite issue..  Thursday I was drowsy, napped in the afternoon, and then went to bed early again..  Woke myself up early Friday morning to shop with my mom and sister, but I felt off and drowsy..  After lunch mom ran into the store real quick to grab a couple things, but before she got out of the car I had said I wasn’t going in because I felt very sleepy..  My sister stayed in the car with me, but none of us realized yet that anything was wrong..  I barely roused enough to hit the unlock button to let mom back in the van and I fell back “asleep” on the five minute drive home..  I couldn’t get out of the car without stumbling..  I couldn’t keep my eyes open and I was so confused about what was going on..  I stumbled up the stairs and into the house..  I shuffled around the house with my eyes opened only a crack and I managed to get upstairs where I changed my clothes and got in bed..  But I didn’t even lay down, I was still so confused and completely out of it, my eyes barely open..  I started texting my mom that I felt like something is wrong, by this time what I could see I was seeing double and my speech was slurred..  I remember telling her I was afraid to fall asleep because I didn’t think I’d wake back up..  I felt something was so wrong that I truly was ready to say goodbye to her because I felt myself passing out and I just knew I wouldn’t wake up..  She called the dr’s answering service and eventually gets through to a nurse who said to remove the patch I had put on just a couple days before..  Evidently mom came up and told me to take off the patch, but I was just grasping, not able to locate the patch..  Mom immediately removed the patch and said it was time to head to the ER..  Like the last several hours, the next few hours were mostly a blur..  I remember bits and pieces of getting to the hospital and getting halfway undressed and hooked up to machines..  At some point an IV is started..  Nurses, techs, phlebotomists, doctors and all sorts of other people were in and out of the room drawing blood, taking information, and doing other things to me..  I don’t remember much of it until the end, but I do remember saying to my mom again that I was afraid to fall asleep..  She assured me it was okay and being at the hospital I felt I was in the best place I could be..  All of their tests (which they were doing to check for an overdose, accidental or otherwise) indicated there had been no such overdose..  So after my head cleared some and I was able to fully open my eyes and talk without a slur, I was released from the hospital..  I followed up with my back dr, to him there was nothing to indicate it was an interaction between two or more meds as opposed to a severe drug allergy; either way, it doesn’t matter..  I know to never use that patch again, we’ll probably steer away from opioids from here on out, and we’ll use other methods to treat my back issues..

But the biggest thing to me, out of all that, was facing what I thought was my impending death..  I was so afraid, I did not want to slip into the “other side”..  I’ve been wrestling with that ever since..  It’s been stressing me out, tearing my stomach apart, making me more exhausted than usual..  I cannot emphasize enough how frightened I was and how sure I was that I was about to die..  I was in such an altered state that nothing passed through my mind – no thoughts or memories, no truth to hold on to that would carry me or give me hope, nothing..  And all I felt was fear..  I just hope to God it’s not like that when I do finally die.. I selfishly hope I’m not alone, I hope I’m comforted, and I hope I’m never a burden..  I hope my life has given some meaning to someone else’s, that I’ve blessed someone else’s life by my existence..  I often feel that’s all it is, an existence rather than a life that has any meaning..  Why can’t I find meaning?  I feel like I’m insulting my family, my parents, by floundering; that I should feel I have some worth because of how much they’ve always loved me, because of how much they taught me God loves me..  I’m just really struggling; why would the Creator of all things care about me?  I’m so insignificant in comparison to everything else..

My life, from here on out..

So, here’s the deal ..  over the years I’ve come to realizations that change me, change the way I view myself and the world around me..  Recently I’ve voiced a realization that has been working in my mind for years..  Some might view it as depressing, but it is my reality and I accept it fully..

My mental illnesses are very hard to treat; they are resistant to long-term medicinal treatment..  They will work for a while and then will just sort of stop..  But the heavy duty meds are taking a toll on my body, wreaking havoc on all systems..  I’ve lost 60 lbs since last December, but it’s because a change in meds took me off of a few drugs that really packed on the weight..  I’m still very heavy, I know that, but a lot of it had to do with medications I was taking..  Anyways, the point is that it’s only a matter of time before I see more severe effects on my body – kidney and liver problems..  I already have severe memory issues and have had them for years..  Ever since I started taking depakote I’ve had problems remembering things; I’ve even forgotten a lot about my childhood and teenage years and even the years I was taking toxic doses of said med I’ve forgotten a lot about..  (I no longer take depakote)  I’ve realized that it’s only a matter of time before things really start to go south..  And I’m as okay with that as a person can be..

This is going to sound so morbid, but I hope that my mom outlives me..  I depend on her for so much that I just can’t do for myself and I’d be so lost without her..  I couldn’t survive without her, literally..  No slight to anyone else, but nobody could take her place..  For a very long time I’ve felt that I would eventually die by suicide, and I still believe that..  It won’t happen any time soon, but it’ll happen someday..  And I’ve known that I’d always be alone – without a partner/ husband..  No matter how much I might want that in my life, it’s just not going to happen..  I’ve accepted that and I’m trying to move on from it..

And I don’t want to end with a sad or depressed mood; I’m trying to rebuild my relationship with God and I’m trying to just forget about my physical pain, my mental anguish, and find a little bit of happiness in the moments with my family and the few friends I have..  I know life here in this realm is limited..  I trust and believe that a better existence awaits me on the other side, so until that moment when I just can’t take any more or the moment when I no longer fear death, I’m trying to make the best of my life and enjoy what I can..

Thank God for family, I’d be so much worse off without them..  I love you dearly and I’m sorry you have to put up with me and my sicknesses..  Your love and support means so much to me..  please don’t ever give up on me..

Is there reason?


So, today I’m feeling about as confident as I ever feel, which isn’t saying much..  Believe me, you don’t wanna know the self-deprecating thoughts that go through this head of mine..  As the saying goes, you’re your own harshest critic – definitely true of me..  I’ve “verbally” abused myself since I can remember being self-aware..  May be a ridiculous thought, that I could verbally abuse myself somehow, but it’s true..  Every day, almost every second of every day, abusive thoughts about myself flow through my head..  “Oh, you’re so stupid,” “you’re disgusting and nobody will ever learn to love you,” “you’re crazy, you’re jaded, and you’re damaged goods..”  There’s a lyric to the song I’m listening to now that just stuck out to me – “I wanna believe there’s beauty here.”


I’m always so physically drained dealing with the numerous medical ailments that plague me – IBS, fibromyalgia, diagnosed back issues, migraines, asthma, allergies, and other “minor” issues..  My body is exhausted and that contributes to making my mind exhausted..  Some days I just don’t have the strength or will to get out of bed..


I put pressure on myself to strive to live up to what I think others expect out of me..  I’m always so concerned with how my actions affect others that my own well-being is put second, always..  I’m not condoning selfishness, at all, but there comes a time when you have to put yourself first and just take care of yourself, not worrying about how it might affect other people..  I’m always so afraid that I’ll bother people or will be inconveniencing them somehow..  I have no self-confidence or self-esteem..  I question my own value to others..  If I mean so little to myself then how can I expect anyone else to give a shit about me?  Why should they?  I’m projecting the thought that there are no redeeming qualities to me and I have no redeeming value whatsoever..  How could I expect to attract someone with that bitter “nectar”?


I need to learn to value and love myself; I need to accept myself, warts and all..  I feel like I fail at so much, I fail those that do care about me..  Why can’t I see my own worth?  By not loving and accepting myself I’m disgracing my parents..  They should be as ashamed as I am..  Sometimes I like to believe I’m strong..  If I were really strong I’d persevere, I’d get out of bed every morning, I’d feel confident in my own skin, I’d value myself, I’d be able to endure the constant bodily pains without pissing and moaning about them..  If I were truly strong I’d never doubt myself, I’d stop apologizing when I don’t need to, I’d be able to see the way to make some good come out of every situation, I’d be capable of opening up and being truly vulnerable in front of people without fear of rejection..


I feel rash and irresponsible, rushing into making decisions (however small they might be), and I feel naive – so naive..  I fear I’ll never do anything or be anyone..  I’ve dreamt of and hoped for so much – how stupid..  Just when I begin to hope for more, I’m always brought down a peg by the reality of life..  And how far from what I’d once dreamed my life would be has it turned out to be!  Things I once thought I couldn’t live without I’ve grown to resent..


I’ve had to make some hard decisions in my life, ones I don’t regret, but I sometimes wish my life had turned out differently..  Some people believe everything happens for a reason..  How foolish that is!  Life is random; and life is what you make it, so they say..  I guess I just haven’t made much of my life..


My heart is heavy and my soul is troubled, my mind full of too many thoughts to compute all at once..  It feels good to unload, even if no one listens..  I know I can’t hope for any sort of acceptance or companionship until I truly learn to love myself and to see what others say they see in me..  It feels ridiculous to me to hope for some purpose in life; hope is for children..  And I’m not a child..



Update :

So here it is, what’s “wrong” with me :
Bipolar Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder with panic attacks, and Borderline Personality Disorder..

Living with these diagnoses is beyond difficult and, honestly, more than once I’ve felt like just giving up the fight.. Only with much love, guidance, and encouragement I am able to persevere..

Here are just some of the symptoms or ways that these illnesses present themselves :
Extreme (and sometimes rapid) mood swings; being overly sensitive to people’s words and actions; restlessness and pronounced insomnia; periods of deep, sometimes suicidal depression; hopelessness; misplaced guilt and low self-esteem; memory loss and brain fog; even hearing voices..

I have been receiving psychiatric care for years and have even been hospitalized, I’ve had years of counseling and therapy – all in hopes of “getting better”.. Years of misdiagnoses and treatment for the wrong illnesses, along with being heavily over-medicated have taken their toll on me mentally and physically.. I had taken toxic levels of medications for long periods of time, trusting the Drs knew what they were doing; instead, I was just continually being prescribed higher doses and instructed to add yet another medication.. The already too long list of meds was constantly being changed around completely, not following common sense protocol of allowing me time to adjust to meds or only changing one at a time so as to properly document changes taking place.. And the quality of therapy I was receiving was ludicrous; I often went just to be able to vent and talk out my emotions more so than I was actually getting any real help.. The facility I was receiving care from was constantly switching psychiatrists, constantly; and I saw three separate therapists, not counting the intern they tried to get me to see (the one who knew less about counseling than I did!).. Needless to say, I’ve been mistreated by doctors more than anyone should, but I didn’t know any better at the time.. You can trust the advice of your Dr, right? Plus, being on disability, there were only so many places I could go that took Medicaid, so I was severely limited on options anyways, I didn’t have much choice in where to go for psychiatric help..

I’m getting much better psychiatric treatment than I have ever gotten and I am doing so much better! But it’s also true that I’ve lost all interest in things I used to enjoy with fervor and I have failed to find the strength, or hope, to have a passion in or for anything anymore.. I struggle with feeling like so much of my life is a pathetic excuse for existence, because I find it hard to have deep, emotional connection with people.. I’m a misunderstood individual who, daily, has to muster up the strength to get out of bed and face the world.. People just don’t get me, so I’m afraid to make myself at all vulnerable.. I have many flaws, and while I understand that that fact doesn’t make me unique, I fear it makes me unrelatable.. I seek outside approval all the time and I’m sick of making myself feel like I’m not good enough, like I’m not worth anything.. I’m sick of feeling like I need to hide my true self because I won’t be accepted.. I’m loved, I know this.. I desire understanding above all; acceptance, second..

I’m putting myself out there in hopes of helping you to “get” me; I want you to know me, to see me.. I’m weird, quirky, kind, smart (sometimes anyways!), and understanding… and many more things; I’d love for you to know them all! I appreciate the support I get from you guys and I want you to know that I don’t take that for granted.. I love you and I hope you know that..