Tag Archives: Emotions

To Put Emotions On Pause

Oh to be able to let my emotions flow out of my finger tips.  The last few days I have been depressed and really anxious.   Medication, situation, all of the above?  Who knows.

Monday the fly on the wall, found me watching CNN.  A special about sexual predators working at Disney World, Sea World, Universal, and other theme parks.  The one I remember most lived life as a preacher.  Sounded like a familiar story.

Eventually sufficiently creeped out, I turned the television off.  Pondering the things I just learned, I picked up my Ipad and began a search.  Center of Missing and Exploited Children.

Shaking inside and out I called, simply to see what could be done to report someone who preyed on me over 35 years ago.  I am pretty sure I let out an audible gasp when she said she would take my report, and the information would be shared with the authorities.  I do not look for him to be punished for the things he did to me.  At least not in the here and now, but the thought of him continuing to prey on victims…My voice no longer silent.

For a couple of days his memory haunted me.  Fears.  More memories, smells, more memories…restless.

My medication has been tweeked too, and I think in the wrong direction.  So I know that this seems much more grandiose to me than it is.

Last but not least, I cannot deny my heart many many tears, as I prepare to say see you later to my sweet boy Enos.  He has degenerative back disease, past surgery on multiple disc.  He can no longer walk, or turn over when lying down.  We have to hold him up for him to do his “jobs”.  He is getting where he is in a good bit of pain.  My heart is broken for my baby.  He has slept with me since we rescued him seven years ago.  He is my smallest dog, and since I was never blessed with my own children, my dogs are my babies.  Enos lets me dress him and do what ever with him.  I love that little guy so much.

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Can YOU Help Me?

Today I have been in bed all day with a headache.  I keep telling myself that I need to get up and do something, but I do not have the energy.  Between my head throbbing and the medication zapping me.  I keep saying I will use my energy to cook supper.  I am cooking Chicken Parmesan tonight.

I have been more down today emotionally too.  I do not know why.  I suppose it could be the rain coming.  I know that is probably why my head is throbbing.  The barometric pressure reeks havoc on my brain.

So anyway, I need your help.

I am working on filling my MP3 with music that I can listen to when I need to disconnect the emotional fuse, or when I am depressed.  

What songs do you think I should put on my MP3?  What are some uplifting, not necessarily church, but it can be, music that inspires you. What about relaxes you? What about funny songs?  I do not listen to music with swearing, but I’m pretty much open to all styles.

Thank you so much in advance for your help!

Sink or Swim, I Thought Fat Floated

No surprise I am emotional today, I am every day. I have glimpses into light and peace. I did so as I studied and read the scriptures, and listened to uplifting music this morning. However, much like an egg on perfectly seasoned non-stick surface thrown into the air, so went my brief feelings of joy. Back into the abyss I sink.

I talked to my lawyer earlier this week and he said the disability judge is running fourteen months behind, so my case will not be heard until probably next December (2014). It is so frustrating. Confusing too, the emotions I feel. I am so terrified being in public right now, going to a hearing around people scares me. When I am scared and overly emotionally Little Hope seems to have the upper hand. It has been a HUGE fear getting in front of the judge and she come out. It will leave me unpresent not knowing what is going on or how to answer any questions. Not to mention if she pulls one of her fits.

Something I realized today, I beat myself up over things before they happen. I create elaborate scenarios in my head, stupid what if scenarios. Example in point. I let Daisy and Roscoe out in our fenced in backyard. While they did their business I figured I would do mine. (TMI moment coming) My stomach was bothering me and I stayed in there a few more minutes than I originally thought. I start panicking that Roscoe and Daisy have dug out of the yard. (Completely out of character for Roscoe, and Daisy too if she is not with Gage.) But it was real to me. I could not hear them in them playing outside the window. I just knew they were gone. Daisy has a chip, Roscoe does not. They are going to get hit by a car. Tracy is not home to help me find them. It is my fault that I ate the Oreos, because I know those and my Metformin mess my stomach up. I am not going to be able to live with myself. (I am trying to hurry so I can go find them, but my stomach would not cooperate.) By this point I was almost in tears and shaking. I hear the neighbors dogs barking, then my parents dogs barking. My fears are confirmed, they have escaped. Why else would all the neighborhood dogs bark. I have got to get out of this bathroom!! Why did I eat those stupid Oreos!! Those Oreos killed my dogs. Then I heard it, outside my bathroom window, inside the fence, Daisy’s beautiful bark. The same bark that annoys me at 3:00 in the morning.

My epiphany came as I walked to the door to let them in. I am always finding reason to hate me, real or imagined.

In therapy we have talked how I blame myself for all the bad things that have happened to me, part of it for me is to give any others involved a free pass. The deeper part is in most cases I feel like something I have done caused it.

I’m fat. I have heard I am fat because I would eat at my Granny’s and my home. I cry as I type that. In my mind being fat has been the root of many of my problems. For those who say lose the weight, let me say, if there is a diet, I have tried it. I have owned several exercise machines, walked, swam, danced, kickboxed, you name it. I would lose some, and breathe and gain weight again and the pounds I lost would bring family members and friends.

So again I am fat, it is my fault. I got that. It is there. I cannot shake it. Enter the teen years and puberty, I get something that “fat girls” get Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I’m fat. I caused it. My fault. Through the years I was told that I would have trouble getting pregnant. Lose weight they say, but PCOS makes you gain too. So being fat made me have something that makes me gain weight. Anyway, losing weight nor medication helped. Infertility=No Child because I am fat! My Fault! But wait, there’s more! I wanted a child so bad. My self-esteem so low I am easy prey. All the signs were there that the baby did not exist, but I believed her. Everyone hurt because of my dream and my gullibility. Then instead of my womb producing something beautiful, it produced something ugly, cancer. Cancer, that was my fault because I am fat. Now my heart is enlarged and thick, I have asthma, degenerative back disease, diabetes, and several other things…and why??? BECAUSE I AM FAT!!!

So why do I hate myself? I wonder?

Fat provides a cruel floating illusion, when in reality it acts as a millstone securely placed pulling you into the deepest your abyss.

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Will The Tears EVER END

I really do not know where they come from. How can one person cry this many tears? Gallons upon gallons of salty drops pouring down my puffy face over the last few months. Will they ever stop?

Tonight did not go quite as planned, does it ever?

My hubs decided he did not want to go to see the missionary couple so he stayed home and worked around the house. It seems that everytime I leave the house alone, if I am upset, I see “him”. Today my emotions were raw. Seeing “him” today triggered me, though just a few weeks back I was able to stop and talk to him. I know part anxiety is because of therapy today and the work that we did, and part was reading about this awful molester in Savannah they finally caught today. I was grateful that they had caught that monster, but as I read the article I felt myself tensing up getting afraid, then flashbacks. Seeing “him” did not help. I could not stop shaking. I was nauseated. i wanted to turn around and go home, but I promised my Mother I would be there. I also needed to pick up my medications at CVS.

I floored it.

Once at CVS there had been a mix up, my meds were put on hold, because of that they did not have enough to fill it. I was my Pristique. Ummmm, I had to have it. They said they would fill a partial, but that I needed to come back.

I ran to the Church and rushed inside, just as they were taking the goodbye pictures. Still shaking and forcing back tears, I hid on the back row. I had completely forgotten I was supposed to help Mother, help someone file for unemployment online. Just as we reached the last of a million and one pages, the internet crashed. What in the world?! Mother has all the information to re-entered it at home, or that was the plan. I have not talked to her.

Me and my nightblind self rushed to CVS, almost running down three dark skinned ladies wearing dark clothes walking in the middle of the road. Idiots! Good thing I drive slow at dusk and night time because of my night blindness. I pull up to CVS, just received a text my husbands meds are ready also, they were not. I sat for about 15 minutes until another customer pulled up behind me, then I circled around. Our scripts finally ready, I am asked if I had ever taken Propranolol. I look puzzled and told her that was the med that was supposed to be on hold, waiting for my Internist to call. I ask how much it is. It was just over $4 so I said after today, I need it for my PTSD. The Pharmacist who knows my meds says that it works great for PTSD and that my dosage is so low I should not see any negative side effects. I told her to give it to me.

I have been home several hours now. Cried a bit more. Had a good heart to heart with my husband and now, I hope to call it a night. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day. Please?

Smile

Smile

A Smile
Can Say…
Hi
Goodbye
I Love You
Nice To Meet You
Have A Great Day
Thank You
I Know You
I Want To Know You
I Am Glad We Met
You Are Important
I See You
I Understand
I’m Sorry
Forgive Me?

Other smiles hide secrets.
I am alone.
I need a friend.
Help me.
I am scared.
I am confused.
I am lost.
I am weary.

What does your smile say?
Are other’s hearing?
Are you listening to others?

My Voice, My Blog, Me Screaming, My Boundaries

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This is my therapy blog. I write to get things out. My therapist reads it occasionally also. Part of my healing journey is to share experiences with others out there that may be experiencing similiar situations also to get feedback from those in the same boat.

Boundaries. I have talked about them alot. Talking and creating them are two separate things. Two of the largest stressers in my life have been two people that I love. I have offered myself unconditionally to nurture for the last eight years of my life. I tried being a loving stepmom. I tried being a friend and confidant. I have been a referee and a buffer. To them however, I am only a punching bag, a scape goat, and cause of all problems great and small. They are both adults now, the attitudes which I hoped would improve with age have only become more toxic towards me.

I no longer accept that roles they assign to me. I cannot accept them for my mental health nor for the health of my marriage. Boundaries now set.

My heart broke as I responded to the last toxic text today with “no more” and an explaination but my heart will heal, hopefully they will too. Healing whatever causes them to be so bitter and cruel towards me, I want them to be sucessful and honorable women, realizing their hopes and dreams.

I will not stand in the way of any relationship my husband desires to have with his daughters. I just will no longer force a relationship or try to heal or bandaid any misunderstandings they may have. It is not healthy for me. Too many tears have been shed for naught. Too many emotional bruises and scars. Enough is enough.

My energy must be focused on other things, like becoming whole again. Focusing on the positive things in my life.

Whose Expectations, Extra Pressure

One of my worst character traits is caring way too much what others think about me, and trying to live up to perceived expectations. I have always done this, many nightmares past and present show this. Being in the deepest abyss of depression that I find myself these days, what seems to be the smallest comment to someone else throws me into a self loathing fit wanting to end it all. Literally masking anything good in life.

I hate that I am like this. I hate that I let others down, real or perceived. I wish healing was an immediate fix, but it is not. I am trying, but I often wonder why. Three or four steps forward seven or eight backward. Kind of like debt with high interest that you only pay the monthly payment are you ever going to get from under the debt?

Yes, my medications were changed last week. Last week. We do not know if they are going to work yet. Right now I do not feel any better, but it has only been a week. I do not like being broken! Makes this PG language speaking girl want to use some R rated language!! I hate that I even think it, because when little Hope comes she does not have the filter that I do, which is very strange, because I did not swear as a child either. I can bite my tongue, with her she just wants to let all the anger out. Maybe she is the smart part of me, I am afraid of the anger. I am afraid that when it starts it will not stop, and also that I become an ugly no Christ-like person expressing it. So conflicted.

I feel like I need a punching bag and put my face on it. Yelling, screaming, and beating the crap out of me would feel so good. Yes, I get frustrated with others, but I loathe myself. I expect too much emotionally from myself, expected to be healed today or yesterday because that is what others expect or at least that is what I perceive they feel.

I do not know how to turn off that part of myself so that I do not put my energy into what others think, but rather focus on healing. Right now I am spinning my tires and getting burnt out.