And I’m back in the game! At least I think so… The last month was a big jumbled mess and I am a bit of a worry wart. But when it comes to life and death dealing with emotions, it can’t be helped, or can it? I don’t know. Anyway, things are beginning to look up. I’m getting my energy back, at least it feels like it. I’m starting to make plans for the near future again. Let’s see if I can stick to my six week cardio training starting next Monday. So I’m planning to run 4 days a week. And to add to that, throw hiking every Saturday into the mix, starting this weekend. Hopefully that will get me into shape by the time I go to Hawaii in July. Yay vacation! Long awaited, much needed vacation with family! Now that I’ve said all that, will I actually do it? HAHA That’s how it usually goes for me… I have these plans and if I keep them to myself, I end up doing them. If I tell someone, I end up not doing them. So I’m going to try to break my habit of not doing them after I tell someone. Here goes nothing.
So I guess the meds are working. This is what happens when they are working. Life becomes appealing again. I’ve been dead for quite sometime now and I’m being brought back to life. I actually have a pulse. HA! I’m being myself again. My clumsiness is coming back. Yesterday I crashed into the corner of a desk and now I have a big bruise on my thigh. Let’s see how many bruises I come out with by the end of the week… HAHAHA See this is my usual self, laughing at me every chance I get, it’s kinda funny you know HAHAHA okay, I gotta stop or I’ll burst out laughing at my desk at work. I know, I know, I’m supposed to be working, but I had to get this out or the moment will be gone. I’m kinda on this natural high floating away on my own cloud 9 and it feels like nothing could bring me down and I like me again.
So with all this crazy talk of negativity, it’s time for a change of pace, shall we?
I’m a naturally quiet person. I’m an introvert with social anxiety. If I don’t know you, I won’t be the first to speak when we meet. There are those people who love to talk and can talk and talk and talk and talk to no end at all. Every now and then I come across someone who can’t just sit still if nothing is being said. Being a quiet person, I don’t have much to say as is, and I don’t talk about my life so openly. So I get comments like “why are you so quiet?” or “What’s wrong? You’re not talking.” There isn’t anything wrong, I just don’t have anything to say. That’s all.
But then there are moments in life when all you need is for someone to just be there. Nothing needs to be said or done. Just simply that their presence alone makes things better. Just sitting there quietly is a conversation in itself. A mutual understanding. You could cry all you want and they will be there to wipe your tears away and just hold you tight but still not say a word and the world seems perfect again.
There are only some people who understand this and could actually do it, so from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU!
I found that person who I could tell everything to again. Someone who I want to know every thing that happens at every moment that it happens, that I can’t wait to tell that person whether it be good or bad because I know either way that person will find a way to turn it around and make me laugh. Knowing that I will not be judged by anything that I say and I can truly be open with this person on sooo many levels that I become talkative. Wait, but that is unheard of! But it can happen… There are just those people who bring out the best in you.
I took the day off today… for two reasons. One, I didn’t feel like going to work and two, I was feeling depressed. I definitely needed it. Work is not crazy but it’s not busy either. I slept in til 11am and then went to lunch with my cousin. Went home and took Mochi to the park.
It seems my depression has been getting worse. This is the 3rd time that I’ve gone home or stayed home from work because of it. It seems like I have depressive episodes every week. My doctor changed my medication again but this time they have to increase the dosage slowly and the effects will happen in the span of a couple of months. That scares me! If my depression is already getting bad, I don’t want it to get any worse waiting, months for the right dosage, for the medication to work. I wish I could say that I was getting better, that the medicine is working and I’m on the road to recovery. Well kinda but not really. I’m afraid of what’s to come in the next month or two. I’m afraid of how bad it might get. I still wish that all of this never happened. I get tired of going through the same thing month after month. Taking medicine day after day waiting for something to work. I hate being asked if I have suicidal thoughts, if I have a plan, and what am I going to do? Knowing full well that there is a definite answer to that scares the SHIT out of me! I know what I am capable of. But, in the back of my mind, I really really really don’t want to die! Even though sometimes I do. Maybe that will be my saving grace. That thought alone will keep me from pulling it off. That thought alone will fight my other half to stay alive. Maybe if I’m fighting for someone else and not just me, that will stop me. Maybe that support that I get from someone is enough to pull me out and get me through this mess. That too will be my saving grace. That has to be enough. There is still that glimmer of hope that I will get through all of this even though half the time I’m skeptical about it. C’est la vie.
It’s been a long and crazy rough road getting to where I am now. I’m not out of the woods yet but the light is starting to shine through.
In the beginning it started with severe depression. I would be with family and around good vibes and still feel like I wasn’t even there. I hear people talking in the background but it’s just an echo. I’m there but I’m not. No one is home. I’ve floated away to nowhere land and not looking to come back anytime soon.
Seeing things has been there since I was a kid. This is just what has happened recently. Ghosts would be walking around my apartment. There were 5 of them at one point. There was a little girl hunched over on the floor by the piano looking at me during my piano lessons. She wouldn’t move, she would just look at me. There was a tall white naked man with lacerations all over his body always walking across the hallway pacing back and forth. I can’t remember the other three. They wouldn’t talk to me. They would just be there. On the drive home I would have a ghost or two riding in the back seat. There was always someone following me, but would never reveal himself. I didn’t like to look in the mirror because there would be someone else looking back at me but it wasn’t me.
Then came the demons. The ghosts would disappear when the demons came. There were a lot of them. They would bounce off the walls hanging around everywhere in my apartment. At first they would just stay in the living room. At night I would go to sleep and I could only see them at the door. Night after night they would get closer. In the room. Next, the bedroom light fixture, and then right behind me and whisper in bad things in my ear. I was too scared to remember what they said because I jumped out of bed and ran to the couch and called a friend. I was afraid to be in my own apartment. I sleep with the lights on because if I turn them off, she will be there to take me. She is waiting at the foot of my bed just at the right time, to take me.
My Pastor and some Elders at the church came for a couple weeks to do prayer sessions at my apartment and it did help a little.
I still sleep with the lights on.
Then came the voices. There were three of them. The nice one who didn’t like to argue. The mean one who dictated over everything, and the middle one who tried to keep the peace. Eventually the mean one took over and she started plotting. This is when the suicidal thoughts and attempts started. She would tell me what to do all day long. Write a letter to this person. Say goodbye to that person. Give all your account information to that person. I actually gave all my account information to my best friend just in case anything ever did happen, he could give it to my family. I had dreams that I was dead. I knew there were times that I was sure I wouldn’t make it to my next birthday. I knew that I wasn’t going to last very long. I had no desire to live anymore. I was numb to everything. The mean voice really didn’t have to say much for me to attempt anything at my own life. There was one night, all I had to do was go into my art box and find my xacto knife and just end it right then and there. I guess it wasn’t my time yet because some part of me kept me from pulling it off. Another incident was when I got home and all I wanted to do was swallow as much pills as I could and sleep and not wake up. I ended up calling a friend before any of it happened. As much as I wanted to die right then and there, at the same time, I didn’t. I don’t want to die. I think that is what is keeping me alive.
None of that happens now. I still have depressive episodes and sometimes suicidal thoughts but not as severe as it has been in the past. Things are getting better and all I can do is move forward.
I guess when I started this blog site, I didn’t know how personal I would get. In the beginning, I wanted it to be light hearted and funny, or quirky even. I realize that some of my posts have really gotten deep into what makes me who I am today. I have a journal that I write in almost on a daily basis, but lately I find that I’m writing in here more than the journal. I guess I’m learning to open up? I thought it would be scary at first, to let the world know the real me, that side of me that I’ve been hiding from, hiding from the world all these years. I’m afraid of letting the world know who I really am. I feel like I wouldn’t be accepted given my past experiences with people.
So this is me. I normally don’t open up my feeling or my true self to just anyone. It takes me a while before I begin to trust someone because I’ve been burned many times before.
What do I really want to say? I want to stop hiding behind the shadows! I want to stop being the submissive, passive, even door mat that I used to be! I want to let the world know who I am and this is what I’ve been through to get here! It was never the easy road for me. Every time I thought, “this is it, I’m done, I can’t take it anymore!” I somehow found a way to get through it, don’t know how exactly, but I do. Then a year and a half ago, I get this thing called Schizoaffective Disorder and I plummet down to the depths of nowhere land and have to climb my way back up what seems to be a never ending roller coaster of symptoms and emotions and have to start all over again. But God won’t give me anything I can’t handle right? Sometimes I feel like that’s not true. Like this battle is winning over me. I’ve really questioned my faith going through this and it has scared me to my core! I used to be like God can get me through anything. God will prevail. God you are my rock. God this. God that. Then it became why God? Why me? I can’t do this! This thing you gave me is too hard to handle and I’m not the person to do it. When there are times when all you think of is taking your own life day after day among many other symptoms and just waiting and hoping for the medicine to kick in. I began to think, where is God in that? No matter how many times or how hard I prayed that this wasn’t real, that I didn’t have this thing, it wouldn’t go away. I stopped relying on God. I lost my faith in God. I lost all trust in God. I relied only on medicine to hopefully get better and even then I was skeptical. The medicine is working now, a few changes here and there. I don’t think about suicide as much. I still have depressive episodes here and there. I try to talk to God but it gets cut short. I’m still angry with him. Hopefully someday that will change. I read back in some of my old journals and all I talk about is God being in my life and how much I looked to him for all the support I needed; I kinda want that back. But, I know that has to come from me, and God is waiting.
So along with my depression, I have developed a bit of anger issues. I’m not an angry person, never have been. I was always the shy, quiet, hide behind the shadows type of person. I’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it because no one really notices it but me. Even when I did get mad, I would give the silent treatment. Lately it’s been quite the opposite.
I get that we all have those annoying coworkers who don’t know what they are doing and get on your nerves, but usually you can move past it right? You’re used to it, it’s expected, it’s not going to change. Yet I find myself becoming consumed with anger and frustration over the smallest things that I know they are going to do. So is it that they just got on my last nerve or am I really blowing things out of proportion? For instance, my fellow coworker gives me an incomplete property setup (which she has always done in the past) and I’m here slamming things on my desk, throwing pens or whatever, jamming my pen into a pad of post-it notes and trying to control myself from going over to her desk and yelling at her for the missing information. I mean COME ON! How long have you worked here and you can’t seem to give me complete information?!? Okay, calm down. I knew she was going to do that. I always had to do the second half of her job for her anyway. That was only one instance.
At home, it’s sad, my dog Mochi gets yelled at for no reason. I all of a sudden get in one of my moods and because she isn’t walking as fast or the way I want her to walk and she’s just being a dog and sniffing everything in her path. I start yelling at her and tugging at her leash to make her catch up to me. She’s just being a dog, going for a walk. That’s it. She didn’t do anything wrong and she’s getting reprimanded.
I can’t control it. I just get into these angry fits and lash out at the first thing that gets in my way. I’m on mood stabilizers but I don’t think it’s doing what it’s supposed to otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this. It doesn’t seem like much but I know myself and this is not me. I’m not an angry person. It used to take a lot to make me angry, now it’s almost as if anything will make me angry. People don’t notice it either because I’m almost always alone when it happens with the exception of work. But I feel it, there is a change in me and I don’t like it. It’s not something I want to get used to either. I don’t want to be known as an angry person.