Having a mental illness sucks. Being depressed, not being motivated or able to even do the most basic things, being overly emotional, forgetting everything that someone has said to you.
It must be really hard to be a friend or more to someone with a mental illness. Plans get cancelled at the last minute because the person is having a bad day and cannot get out of bed. Maybe, yelling starts over the smallest thing.
Therapy assignments begin to stress the person out which for me,, causes me to want to hide.
I feel bad for my husband at times. The trouble keeping always second guessing about saying what is on my mind. The issues with food. Feeling isolated even when he is trying his best to help.
The people who love us are special. They can look beyond all of flaws and see someone that they care about. Positive aspects, that for me, I do not see. Being on the other side must be difficult, yet I am so glad that there are those who have the strength to be there.
When my therapist asked me how I felt yesterday I replied that I felt unreal and out of my body. It is like I am just watching things go on around me.
Maybe I feel like I do not have a say in what goes on. Life just happens. Visits with the kids, feeding the pets, and so on. It is like I am on auto pilot and cannot find myself anywhere.
I am losing so much time anymore. I do not watch TV series because I cannot remember them. I can read the same book over and over and not remember what it is about. I tune out all the time and do not even realize it because this coping mechanism has become such a large part of my life.
My therapist suggested a service dog may be a good idea in the future. One that could detect when I dissociate and be able to get me back to the present. The cost is just prohibitive at this point.
Another day has started that I honestly will not remember. The cats need to be fed in a few hours and then I am not sure what will happen.
So many changes over the past few days that have made life a little less stressful and have resulted in me having less flashbacks.
The first change was the family room. I realized that I had laid it out exactly like my childhood home. I had my children help me to rearrange the room and am so happy with the results. I am more comfortable and feel like I am not so confined.
Next, I exchanged furniture that reminded me of my childhood with my daughter’s more modern furniture. She wanted the piece so it worked out for everyone. Last night I actually slept for the first time in a while. Maybe the change is really going to help.
Going through repeated trauma impacts daily life. A few less reminders is always a good thing. This way I can live without the stress that comes along with it. I was proud of myself for asking for something that I needed. Normally, I would not say anything and just live with things the way that they are done.
Coping skills. I have tried to use them over the past few days. I have journaled, breathed, used distraction, talked to a friend, and even left the situation to try to calm down. Nothing has worked. I am still as angry as I was before I did all of those things and now it is another day.
I am scared that I am going to hurt myself. I know I am so close because I feel like I am going to go every which way and I cannot hold myself together.
I should not feel like this. I have a great husband and my kids are here for their summer visit, yet here I am mad and angry as ever. Just wanting to be alone and try to get myself together.
Later, I am going to try to do some art work and see if that helps. I have already taken a PRN. Right now I feel hopeless that this is going to change. I feel lost as to what to do!
President trump needs to take a class or two on mental illnesses. First they are brain based. Next, not everyone who has a mental health diagnosis has ever been violent. Third, most likely there are people on his staff that have a diagnosed mental illness.
His big idea is to build more institutions. That is not a solution to the problem.
There are those who do not have insurance. After being boarded for days in the ER, they finally get a bed. They have been found to be a danger to themselves or others. The unit works with them to find the right combination of medications that will relieve their symptoms. Then they are discharged with very little in the way of a plan to keep up with the medications.
Those with insurance, are still boarded if they go to the ER and are involuntarily admitted. Even then, they are only allowed to stay on a unit until the risk of being a danger passes. It does not matter if the patient feels as if they are ready to be discharged or not.
Facilities do not matter. We need to begin to treat those with a mental health issue the same as if they had a physical health issue. Provide adequate treatment and medications.
Most of the fairy tales that I have read or have seen start out with once upon a time. After that the trajectories are different , yet similar.
There is the good and kind mother or father who treats the child with care and compassion. They even give them a trinket to have which becomes something to remember them by. Death is never easy, yet every fairy tale has the loving character dying.
Here is where real life comes into play. There is a villain. They try to get whatever the child has. They are jealous of the life that the child gets and wants all the the attention for themselves. Most are narcissistic. To me, that is like living the life of an abused child. Taken to the extreme, the child is locked away and isolated. They are made to feel scared of the world of everyone around them.
Then they grow up,and somehow get away. They find that there are friends out there and that people can be kind and caring. That is where the story normally ends.
In the real world the story continues with years of flashbacks, therapy, and trust issues. Sometimes a protective barrier becomes the house and the person is imprisoned all over again. So maybe, life is like a fairy tale scary, yet good all at the same time.
Waiting for my therapist and psychiatrist appointments is so nerve racking. I start to think about all they could ask me and then what I will have to talk about.
I hate that I even have to see them and realize that my life revolves around my appointments. My life is not where I thought that it would be. Each day is a struggle to do the most basic things.
All of us are born to a mother. Whether that mother loves us or not is another choice. Some mothers have an instant bond with their baby and others take a while. Some moms go through postpartum depression and need a little extra help in the beginning.
I had the mother who did not want me. Who felt that I was a mistake and ruined what she had planned for her life. Her dogs were planned. They had every toy and bed that they needed while I watched my toys being taken away by the garbage men.
She wanted and yearned for the children that she lost. Her beatings and hurtful comments were made to hurt someone that she did not see as part of herself.
For some reason I do not blame her for all of the pain and hurt that she caused. I was a mistake. Why did the universe allow for her to have a child she did not want?
The sad fact is that even today I am not sure that she realizes the harm that she caused. She has not seen me for years and made it clear that I was not welcomed to call the last time that I spoke to her.
Now, I need to get over feeling unwanted, unloved, and that I was just a mistake for anyone to treat poorly.