I can always feel them coming on because I delve into myself. You see, my problem is I don't have them enough. I have one like every two or three years when my meds start fading...when I do have one or I am on the brink of having one I totally subcomb (sp?) to it.
Right now I feel like I have no one. I have my husband, I know and he will always be there, but I need someone like I had Summer or Kat. I need my constant shoulder. My "cry to guy" (or girl).
I think I am going to list what all may have helped bring this on:
Changing from Prozac 40 mg to Lexapro 20 mg
Summer moving out
Illness
My weight
Work
Bonnie's death
Loratabs (now on a daily basis)
No end to this pain
I am jealous of everyone I know right now...and the worst is I think I am becoming like my grandma. I called my mom crying hysterically "Mama...I think I have it...mama I'm hearing things!" I could hear mom's heart skip a beat. She breathed heavily and asked what I was talking about. "These voices...three times I have heard them...I thought they were next door at first, but I heard them today while I was getting out of the truck".
I know you think I am crazy now, but I'm not. I don't talk much about my illness on my diaries or blogs, but somehow, somewhere I have to get it out. It is so hard to look at my husband and tell him those words. He knows how sick my grandma is and it scares him to death when I have my breakdowns. He does everything he can to get me past them. The last one I had was two years ago when I went into a "coma" like state and stared into space for hours,. seizing up when he touched me.
Back to my conversation with mom. After much talking it was decided that I REALLY may be hearing voices, but real ones. Maybe my neighbors or something. I could be really hearing them, though as I am stressed out right now and I get jumpy when I am stressed. The other theory? Bob...our townhouse ghost. It could be that, too. The point is I am past the age to get the disease as most women succumb to it in their teens like grandma did. My mom did divulge that she worried about me all through my teenage years, especially when I was in the hospital with my depression, thinking I would get it. Mama said she went through the same panic attacks about herself. She also said since I don't think the voices are talking to me that is a good sign. I hear them talking to each other. It could be my neighbors...god I hope its my neighbors.
Know whats not fair?
You tell people you have Cancer and they sympathize with you.
You tell people you have a mental illness and they want to run.
I'm so scared sometimes. I am scared I will wake up and be like her. How horrible does that sound?
I'm scared I will end up like Bonnie...not knowing where to turn and ending it all.
I want her back so bad. Its not fair. I keep reminding myself it is not fair for anyone to do that to themselves, bust sometimes it is so hard.
I'll keep holding on with all my might. My smile will still be there. I just can't fight these feelings and that is what scares me the most.
Joel is a brilliant God, while I, on the other hand am a stupid one. Come to my window...(you know who I'm talking to)
TMBG will be in NO next month. My mommie loves me and is getting Paul and I tickets. Does your mommie love you?
I wonder why my last entry did that funkin "continue reading" thing...
My mom said I should start keeping track of the days that I am not in the back because other people are out. How many hours I miss because other people have left early for things such as softball games, babysitting and so on. Maybe then, when I show the reason why I am not “processing” books as much as I should someone in particular will see why. In the past month I have taken two days off sick with my stomach. Both days I felt horrible and one of the days before I was given the riot act about how I had to suck it up and get used to it. Take a pain pill, girl. I stuck it out that day and in return had a wonderful day of bed rest the next day because I kept pulling at myself to go. Yes…I did in fact take three hours of personal time on Thursday. I had furniture to move into my house. I am tired, though of hearing how “something” has to be done about my processing. I may need to start giving her a list of books I process everyday. I’m not getting enough done. Do you think hurt backs, seizures, babysitting, hurt hits, upset stomachs, colds, husbands in the hospital, part time who never comes in, doing storytime and summer reading program every once in awhile and basically RELIEVING other people could be part of the problem? Am I not allowed to take a few hours off or sick days like everyone else? No…it seems I have too much work to do because everyone else has been out.
Fuck this.
I don’t care anymore…to tell you the truth I stopped caring about much a while ago.
If no one listens to me that is his or her problem.
I could care less. I know the outcome of it all, I always have.
My life is in a whirlwind right now. I find it funny that the person who jumped on me for being sick Monday and not getting my work done if I was out is now off for two days. Hmmm...wonder why it never gets done, do ya?
I went to the doc yesterday and cried and begged for him to fix me. Anything, ANYTHING I begged him. His only option right now? Pain pills. To mask the pain until my other doctor gets back to work and can do something else. Not that I am against pain pills, but damnit that is ALL they do is mask the pain. That is why I am afraid I enjoy them too much. Yeah...get me addicted then refuse them to me. Put me in a detox place. I just want them to FIX ME!
He also upped my Lexapro to 20 mg instead of the 10 I was taking. Remember that I am taking this after being used to 40 mg of Prozac? It did hit me for the first time as I was driving home with Karaoke Revolution the other day, though. That wave of contentment was wonderful and I thought "is this what it feels like to be happy?"
Omega is going through Chancey withdrawals, I'm going through Summer withdrawals and Paul...we he is happy as a lark. His friends are over often playing games or he is over at their house playing games. What a dork.
What can sooth my soul right now? I really don't know. I want to be happy and do everything I get set to do, but this damn pain always kicks back up revving my mood into low gear.
Oh...woe is me! Life is so sad! Maybe I could become a depressed poet who is never idolized in life, but in death because I killed myself some wacky, sad way. Lets avoid that please. I'd rather die a funny death. Like lets say I am in the supermarket and I slip over a orange and fall into a buggy that rides down the aisle and out into the street where a car hits it, the buggy and I flip over the car fall into the ocean where a shark eats us. Now THAT is a death.
We have a ailing hamster at home. Poor Scabbers (Miss Judy or Houdini) from work is visiting us because his little leg has withered into his body and turned black. My dear hubby took him to the vet and the poor baby has lost all circulation of blood in his leg. He drags it behind him dead and limp now. The doc said if it spreads we will have to put him down. I know he is just a hamster, but I whimper at the thought. I will be with him when he goes, though.
Enough for now. The last call to leave this place is coming.
Laziness comes soon.
So here is the deal.
I never get to work at my desk. When I do I am called away a million times. I am always relieving someone one way or the other.
Today I HURT on my side. For the first time in a month. I need to see a doctor because I can barely bend over.
But I need to get work done. Processing HAS to be done. I am getting the cold shoulder and told I need to suck it up and take a pain pill.
It is fine for everyone else to be out for small thing, but since I never get to work because people are always out I am the one who HAS to be here all the time.
This is some shit.
The tears start rolling.
I'm in no mood to write. Maybe I need a nap. Leaving you all with a picture I took with my new "baby".
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