Tag Archives: Insomnia

How Do I Begin? It’s THURSDAY!

already-thursday

 

Oh yes, if any day of the week is cursed it is Thursday, no not Monday as everyone simply assumes.  Thursday takes the most vile day of the week award. Everything bad seems to happen on Thursday.  

It probably began with my sleepless night.  It was well after 3:00 before I went to sleep. Do not suppose it was rainbows and unicorns that I dreamed of. Terrors filled my sleep including dreams of beating someone up then pulling that individual by her wrist to the kitchen where my parents keep their medicine, calling my Mother and the rest of our family in the room just as I swallowed the bottle of Xanax. It was awful.  All night I had dreams about this individual and different scenarios, I hated it.  

Generally when my husband leaves for work in the morning our thing to do is for me to get up and hug and kiss him goodbye.  This morning, exhausted, I just rolled over and asked him to hug me in bed, and tried to go back to sleep.  I hoped the nightmares would end and I would sleep.  I was able to get some sleep, but Daisy needed to go out

Then this afternoon. Then it started. I worked on my MP3s.  My new player does not work. Lovely. They are supposed to call me back when they issue the call tag to come and pick it up.  

I received a phone call, I did not recognize the number.  I did not answer.  They called right back.  So I assumed it was the service center.  How wrong I was.  It was a scammer.  After going on a bit about the scam, and my insistence that I knew it was a scam he finally admitted that he was trying to scam me. I was shocked by his admission. He said he wanted to be my friend. Was this a joke? He went into why he was doing this “job”.  I talked to him about his children and that him getting caught is going to ruin their lives, and they will be very hurt and feel abandoned and betrayed.  I talked to him about making things right.  Then conversation became weirder and more uncomfortable.  Soon he asked when he could call me again.  Stating he really enjoys talking to me.  What?  What just happened here?  I was just encouraging him to seek gainful, honest employment, to pray, and look for a church family.

My cousin teases me that I should write a book about my life.  I can get myself into some of the worst predicaments. I suppose a blog will do for now.

I am nervous as all get out.  This guy has my name, phone number, and so he has my address.  I called and reported the information to the FBI. In hopes that anyone else does not fall for these scammers.  They are many.  

The FBI explained it to me. These scammers HERE IN THE US…They buy drop phones with 876 area codes. There are other area codes they use too. (The area codes are places like Jamaica, The Virgin Islands, and Puerto Rio.)  Just do not answer any number with 876 unless you have family or friends there.  They use the catch line of you have won the lottery or your family is on a cruise and are very sick, or something like that.  When you call back you are charged a huge toll, phone companies do not cover it, they say it is between you and the company you called. This guy sounded like he was new at it or that he really did not want to do it.  He was stumbling over his words nervously from the beginning.  It is sad that people resort to this kind of life, some feeling it is their last and only resort.  It leaves their victims without anything and without trust.  Honestly it is a no win situation.

It is depressing the state that our world is in now.  I felt bad calling the FBI, but I also felt like it was the responsible thing to do.  

One thing I know for sure. I am ready for Friday. Another thing, I know. I am ready for dinner. My tummy is rumbling.

 

 

Thanks for reading about my crazy life. ~Hope

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The Calendar Says It Is A New Day

It is a new day. I know because my husband’s alarm went off and he busied himself and readied himself for work. As we hugged goodbye, he said to have a good day, I said, “I think I am going to stay right here (meaning our bed) it is the only place I do not get in trouble.”

When I think about it, that is probably pretty far from the truth, but I did not mean to lie. I only meant that I do not mess with the world from this corner of it. I actually get in alot of trouble here, because if I do not sleep, I think. If I think too much, I see my pink medicine bag beside my bed, and often want to reach for it. I have always reached for the phone instead.

Yesterday, I am very afraid that had I been alone, I was so far gone, I would not have reached the phone. I felt as if I was controlled by “her” and “her” fears and insecurities, “her” pains and frailties, her abuses and abusers yelling loudly that “she” was bad, usless, and “her” life, my life not worth living.

My angel of a Mother knelt in front of me cradled my face in her hands and talked to us. Expressing love and support, and telling us we are not bad. Daddy sat in his chair behind her, and echoed each of her words. My parents are the best parents, so supportive. I hate that they are having to deal with this.

This morning, I am still in fight or flight. My anxiety lessened yesterday a little, Heavenly Father sent our “Tender Mercy” the deer that seems to come when we are having a really bad day. Then when I got home I explained the events of the day to my husband, my anxiety came back.

I recognize in the world this is small, in my PTSD world it is crushing. My parents had generously let me drive their new van to pick up groceries for myself and a couple of friends, because of my memory problems and so I would not be alone on the trip the friend rode with me. After we unloaded her grocercies I was headed home, and my phone rang, it was her saying that they accidently took part of the other friends groceries. Something told me to let Mother pick them up when she goes to deliver them to that friend, but I was only a few blocks away so I went back. When I turned on her dirt road a car came up on my bumper really fast and rode it. My friend’s gate is very narrow, and when I turned, I thought I cleared it, and it scratched and dented the right side of my parents van. My parents are not upset at all, or at least not expressing it in front of me, but I could not handle it. Humiliated and devestated are the mildest terms I can come up with.

Last night as I laid in bed, thinking of the day, and regrets, so many flashbacks came. I could not stop them. Gratefully I finally went to sleep…

I awoke once throwing the pillow that rested on my arm off because I had a nightmare of “his” legs pinning my arms down. Frozen in fear, my heart raced, and I listened to make sure I could hear my husband breathing, I then reached over and touched his shoulder for comfort.

When I have spoken to people about having dealt with depression and anxiety all my life and just recently having remembered the abuses. They say atleast now you know and you can work with them and move on. I am not at that point of being grateful that I remembered. I think I would have been better off thinking it was my inherited chemical depression and anxiety, because this is not living. My family cannot live and when they do they live in fear of what I might do to myself, if I lose touch with reality. I feel like I am not being fair to them, but I am fighting so hard. I wish I could just snap out of this.

I used to always think I would die in my 30’s, I am 39. I realized this week I have died, the life I once lived no longer exists. Yes, I breathe and have a pulse, but I do not live. I pray, sincerely pray that I can ressurect and be the person God intends me to be, pure and whole.

Sleep, Sleep…Finally A Blink!

I am so excited. I closed my eyes for a few hours this afternoon and my body thanked me. Had my alarm not sounded, I would be there still. Sometimes it takes the small things to give us joy, small victories.

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Now round two, heading out to see my husband’s pal. Hear endless stories about how they blew things up as a kids. (Man, am I glad they live 4000 miles apart.) I have seen the videos on how his pal lives. He still lives and enjoys life like he is a kid. I did mention he and he wife quit their jobs to take a touring extended vacation right? Geez.. Freebird…

I Once Loved Roller Coasters

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This morning is someĀ better. I am still very anxious and depressed, but not teetering. I realize how many kind and good people read my blog, and they are going through a lot right now too. “Our community” helps one another when we are down. Kind words of encouragement, the reminder of the beautiful things in life and in me, virtual hugs, and a simple “like” they let me know someone is listening and cares.

I have my amazing family. I know the are weary. It is hard having someone you love with severe emotional problems. I could charter a club, I have been on the other side. Living daily, not knowing what to say or do, fear of triggering them. Fear of the backlash. Not knowing if the will be there in the morning physically or emotionally. Holding your tongue and swallowing your emotions, sacrificing your own mental health while they work on theirs. Crying more than laughing. I hate that I put anyone through this roller coaster.

Wide Awake Megaphone of Negativity in My Mind

Insomnia

 

The thoughts are so loud.
Each nerve in my body
a pinnacle of aniexty,
ready to catch the next thought,
and amplify it,
and make me hurt all over.
Piercing, agonizing pain.

Nowhere to escape.
Nowhere to run.
You cannot run from your thoughts.
Others have tried to drown them
Or cut them
Or smoke them
Or…
Or…
Or…
All ways to try to feel something else,
or not feel at all.

I did not do any of those, ever.
Self respect, faith, pride, fear,
Whatever the reason I didn’t.
Sometimes, I envy those
With those outlets.
An emotional checkout would be
Amazing.
But at what cost.

I laid here tonight wondering,
How much Xanax would it take to
Give me a vacation, but not kill me?
Irrational I know, so I took one.
Hopefully soon the nerves will relax,
and I can sleep.
As fitful as it is, I need sleep.

My husband says each night
I fight unseen demons in my sleep.
Very fitful, very restless.
No wonder I stay exhausted.
A warrior cannot fight all night and all day,
and still function 100%.
I need something.

Whether I wave the flag of surrender,
or collapse in defeat.
I do not see the fight in me anymore.
Hopefully the Xanax kicks in soon,
And I can sleep.

I pray that when the sun rises on the new day,
I will have renewed strength and fortitude to meet the day.
Until then, I still breathe
and that means I am winning.

It’s Raining It’s Pouring, I Sure Wish I Were Snoring

Insomnia. I hate it.

When I typed hate I realized I use that word alot to describe my emotions and infimities. I think I use that term because I feel like they reflect who I am. I hate insomnia. I hate anxiety. I hate depression. I hate PTSD. I hate migraines. I hate infertility. I hate diabetes. I hate asthma. I hate cancer. I hate sexual abuse.

Ever have those epiphanies that really hurt, but are somehow wow moments too? This is one of those times. Hate. I define myself as the things that I listed. Weaknesses, diseases, and infirmities all things that I hate. So each time I hate them I am vocalizing my hatred of myself more and more because I do not allow a separation between the infirmity and who I really am.

My words do not do the feelings justice unfortunately. Being really tired and having a headache will do that too you.

I think that is why those of us who have been abused sometimes or oftentimes have a hardtime letting it go. In remembering what happened maybe in our subconscious mind we allow it to define who we are. I am bad. I am weak. I am small. I cannot trust or trust my own decisions. I am dirty. I hate myself. I am not worth protecting. I am not worthy of healthy love. All because we have defined ourselves by the abuse.

Anyway, the bands of Tropical Storm Andrea keep passing through our area. So it is raining pretty steadily. Fluctuations in the barametric pressure trigger my migraines, so needless to say I am ready for her to move on through.

Earlier this morning I turned on my Ipad and caught up on this season of the Bachlorette. Yes, one of my guilty pleasures. Funny thing is after watching the first two episodes, I just had to read Reality Steve’s Spoilers and see who she picked. I am a nut that way. I also read up on next week’s episode. It sounds like it is going to be a riot.

My husband will be happy to eat more than cereal for dinner tonight. He has been a great support and sport about it. The last several days I just have not had it in me to cook. He’s been eating cereal and I have eaten pears, mayo, and cheese. My Grandmother used to make them all the time, and recently it has become one of my comfort foods. Anyway, today though not in me, the thawed chicken would not wait. Chicken and dumblings were on the menu, but crockpot BBQ sounded so much easier. I can smell it cooking now. Yummy!

I am going to jump back up to my beginning thought, my husband hates when I do that. I usually, okay for honestly sake, I never, preface it with directions where I am going so it can be confusing. So as I was saying, I actually had two epiphanies while typing all the hate talk. I do hate those parts about me, but something I am learning is how those thing connect me with a wonderful group of people across the globe that I would never have had the opportunity of meeting, learning, growing and healing with if I did not have these things. I never thought my circle of influence would expanded further than my immediate circle of family and friends, but through these thorns in my side has opened a new world to me that I might contribute and hopefully have a possitive influence, even if it is no more than to let someone know they are not alone in there trials and hey, she has been through something similiar.

I really do appreciate those that follow my blog and those that comment. It makes my day to see you there. I also enjoy reading yours and getting to know your stories. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of my world and letting me be apart of yours.