RealMental

I think about that cutesy image used to explain codependency from in the early 1990s that was so popular; the family as a mobile. We’re all strung by bits of thin white thread, dangling from bent wires. One of us moves and we all move, wobbling, swaying, affected. Spinning, spinning.

I make the mobile spin all the time these days, because I’m the one who says things out loud. I’m the complainer, the party pooper, the black sheep. I’m the crazy one. And that’s something I’m trying to embrace.

Losing my thin veneer of sanity and working with my therapist has given me a voice, and that’s scary. It’s scary for me and it’s scary for my family. I’m the one who says “Are you drunk? Don’t call me when you’re drunk. Don’t accuse me of things, because you’re in blackout mode.” And then I pretend saying it out loud didn’t scare the hell out of me. I’m the one who says, “You’re not going to throw a tantrum. You’re not going to scare the children. You need to be in control or you need to leave.” And then I pretend to not look for the best exit.

Pretending that things weren’t happening was their way of dealing with the madness, and witnessing – acknowledging – that things ARE happening is my way of dealing with the madness. It’s different this time, because I’m an adult and can and do protect myself. I can and do protect my children. Let them label me a bitch, a grump, an over-reactor. It’s different this time.

I like the mobile image, and I also dismiss it. If you are part of the mobile, you have no choice in when and how you move. Are moved. And while the others do affect me, still, I have decided they no longer will make me wobble and spin.

by Stormybluez

I try to go out every afternoon- for a walk… to the beach… to buy smokes… lay in bed at a friend’s – drive drive drive…save me from me < breath fresh night air. I'm taking TRAZODONE 50 mg for a little over a week now. at first it put me right out and i was so glad- BUT last night and now I took it over 2 hours ago and I'm wide a wake-- ughgh! Instead of feeling doomed in gloom<< I'm Empty .. very hollow ... like I hit a point so hard ---I'm stuck in a slow motion ricochet. Everything still seems so worthless I feel worthless...but I'm far to numb to feel anything --- everyone is SOoo concerned...They all think I'm a freak... AND i AM- but so what-- I stretched a canvass and started sketching early in the week it so therapeutic... I was feeling so much better bit by broken bit ... Then out of the blue I get a medical call --- they found something & want preform a biopsy on my cervix -- a Coltoscopy. both my great grandmothers died of cervical cancer MAN i don't NEED THIS !! I'm trying not to let to disarm me fully I scared tho--im soo scared... oh me I'm gonna try to close my eyes and fall now.

By StormyBluez

I don’t feel good.

I went to my psychiatric App. 1st in 10 years – it was horrible, I felt worst than before I went in yesterday, He was so rushy – he said – 1 on 1 – on an on going basis was not what they offered – tops is 6 sessions solo.

Everything else is in groups, I know myself- I’m shy enough as it is and so insecure – I KNOW its not my cup of tea.

Every fucking book on the man’s self was … THIS BOYS Life – A MAN’S MIND – MALE EROGENOUS – MEN AND SEX – MY Father’s father – MEN & Psychosis>>>> uUuHHHgggGHH!!!!!- I asked to be referred to a women – the bastard never followed up! –

I got in my car and started to cry- I already wanted to give up after 17 min of being in there- but today I woke up and didn’t give up.. because its about ME not them right?….

I went to the the other guy who gives you the Meds- he was OK he’s selection of books was a bit more vast but most important of all I felt like he LISTENED___ even if he only had 10 min for me because I was late he saw me for longer and genuinely asked and observed me. He put me on Lexapro 10 mg and Trazodone 50mg, I took the Lexapro – 40 min later i felt extremely dizzy, i wanted to vomit – high anxiety, very irritating sounds, SICK u know- I called the doc he said it was the first side effects to split it in half next time.

Now I’m just questioning were I am . Why I’m thinking i need these meds? and why am I crossing these Male ego-ed Bastards….. Do I even belong here!!!.

I’m scared and confused I don’t want to feel FLAT but that’s how all Anti D’s make you feel right?
Because at least I know what I’m gonna feel when I’m sad….. It’s familiar.
But thinking about how I’m gonna feel on medication frightens me.

I’m so lost…

All I know is that I am not very nice to myself when I am in that familiar place, I am exhausted of feeling like shit. & I don’t want to feel like a vegetable either. ..maybe I just started off bad. (like every aspect of my life)….

By StormyBluez

I haven’t had a psychiatric app. in about 10 years. 11 years ago it was Prozac. I was 13. I felt that the Prozac robbed me of my creativity I remember it making me feel very empty. I stopped after 4 weeks and rebelled against all help psychiatric.

Ive always drank far too much- insecurity I guess, helps me creates a fake atmosphere. I may have done too many street drugs that possibly added fuel to my internal fire. Heroin was what helped better that all the others – my sister was diagnosed with Schizoaffective disorder in late 2003, my doses were increased and I really had a iron clad reason to hate the world now. Not just my own ugly worthless forgotten demons. She was not hospitalized, they wanted to but my mother would not allow it.

I remember coming home in the rain one night not being able to feel my mind or legs. I sat beside her bedside as she slept and contemplated burning the house down, stop everyones suffering. I felt SO selfish and worthless- here my sister incapable of controlling her mind. Really literally Mentally unable. And me abusing my capability of control. Because I CAN no matter how deep and suicidal my episode is – I am capable to stop, acknowledged my actions and thoughts. So I stopped shooting-up and decreased my drinking.

My sister went through so many medications. 3 years to find the right ones. She’s ok now, although she is not the same she is and wants to survive. She is a huge inspiration. I’m clean now- about 3 years, don’t even smoke cigarettes. But I am deeply sad, I feel alone stupid and worthless ungrateful & suicidal. I have a therapist app. on Halloween. I don’t want to go I’m scared of myself. I think its a man. I don’t think I can be honest with a man. maybe I shouldn’t go. Damn this is gonna be hard, I want to listen to the better half of me, I want to be able to love myself, but can’t even get dressed today.

By StormyBluez

today was bad-

feel Alone-

my tears feel like acid

I want a gun NOW

I’m lame

my body’s lame

Heart’s _BLACK_

Mind’s sick

Soul – saturated in gasoline (waiting)

I want a vile of poison NOW

To sleep forever

Dream of what I could love

escape this wallow of pity

Strike me with lightning NOW

I’m just not made up to survive.

Spectacle to burn and fall.

by StormyBluez

Since I haven’ t ate a meal in a week, my dad took me to eat the other day. He bought me a beer at a Mexican restaurant and a steak. We usually just sit in comfortable quietness and joke sarcastically a few times. But, I was feeling quite lonesome and numb that afternoon. If he hadn’t come along I probably would have gouged in the bathtub and cryed all day, so I was glad he saved me from an episode.

I attempted to indulge in a conversation & asked ” Ta, you ever want to go back to Mexico someday?” He shook his head told me ” Why would I want to go back there, nothing there but a bunch of thieves and poor people you can’t help.- gypsies!” my dads was born in Mexico – “Family did nothing but steal from your grandfather …” My heart turned BLACK … My Grandfather … I couldn’t hear my father anymore I just kept looking at his eyelashes thinking I could never break his heart and let him know what kind of bastard my Gramps was. Then our steaks came.

Not only the Ancient Poison dart to the heart, but 3 Mexicans were gawking at me from behind my fathers back, I couldn’t eat. I went to the bathroom.

I’ve always done my best thinking- crying- writing- dieing in there, I had a flash of me in shorts, me in a 80s dress as a little girl, to close to that old fuck. No one noticed, I was just a child 5 or 6. A Mouse with a mouse hole.

I remember when my Grandfather was dieing NO ONE came to see him in the convalescent hospital. No one but my dad and me. I was 18, think I went jUST to see the suffering in his eyes, never consulted him. Just watched.
I remember being left alone with him once, (my dad had to sign something) I wanted to pull the life support- rip the IVs- strangle him with a pillow, OD him, or just burn him with a cigarette, anything. This frail old man Knew I came to Watch him die and I Smiled about it. I acknowledge that I am still so angry. I need help.

Its 5:37 AM its weird I can smell his disgusting stench.
My mother knows about my abuser. I begged her not to tell my father.
I’ve never held that time of my life at fault for my dark habits,
so much more is at fault.
Although my recent episodes tell me maybe I need to go back to the start, Ive always avoided it. I’m exhausted of being here in this place of gloom and doom.

My eyes feel a flame, I should at least sleep since I don’t eat.
I tried ReAL HArD today not hate myself so, but it creeps, it seeps deeply at night but now its morning.

we’ve just moved to a new city, my boyfriend and i that is and i’m at home tonight on my own because i got my period and i dont feel like socialising with new people on the first day of bleeding from the vagina each month (these same people invited us out last month too… they must think i hate them). at least, thats the most obvious “disease you can see” answer to why i’m at home alone on a saturday night. the other reasons, well they’re the ones you cant see. they are despression, anxiety, insomnia and suicidal thoughts.

i’m really really struggling with myself at the moment. i know i’m in a downward spiral and that its possible i will get worse before i get better but i dont know how much worse or how long or if “getting better” will mean getting medication. i’m totally horrified that i could need full medical treatment for this but i’ve given friends that same advice and its worked wonders for them. i dont know why i’m so against it. maybe i do just like feeling like this. but i dont.

tonight before my boyfriend left to go to drinks with people (i cant call them friends. i dont know them. are they his friends. i dont know. could they be my friends. i dont have friends. i have some people that have always been my friends but i suck at making new ones and i suck even more at keeping in touch with the ones i have.) he hugged me and tickled me. i dont know why. i’m not ticklish but sometimes when he does it i giggle because it does kinda tickles and its fun. but tonight i cried. i started sobbing. sobbing and laughing. then more sobbing. big fat tears that i couldnt stop. this happens more often than i care to admit. i cry. i cry a lot.

when i go see my acupuncturist she asks me a lot of questions about my body and how i feel. then she asks me about my mind, my emotions, my general wellbeing. and i tell her. i tell her how many days i felt good. how many days i felt crap. i dont tell her about the days that i think about stepping in front of a bus. or the ones where i wish i didnt have to get off the tram. that if i just sit there all day instead the day will pass and i can either go home or just keep going somewhere else. i dont know where else. i dont know if the acupuncture will help. i know that seeing someone every week no matter what its for will. an appointment to keep. something i cant cancel.

a few weeks ago i told my boyfriend that i used to cut myself, the soles of my feet, hidden. i think we were looking at post secrets?? it was a passing comment, we didnt discuss it. i dont think i’ve told anyone before. i stopped doing it about 7 years ago. i used to keep a blade beside the bed. i would cut and cut and cut, slicing layers of skin off till they started to bleed. or until just before they would bleed but it would still hurt. when i was 22/23 we moved, i threw away the blade and everytime another one would be purchased by someone in the house i’d throw it away. i couldnt have them in my house. i still cant.

it was last year that i started thinking about busses and trains… stepping in front of them more specifically. waiting on the platform, toes at the yellow line. at the back carriage end of the platform, where the trains are still going reasonably fast. on platforms where trains dont stop, they just speed past. busses on corners, at lights when they’re turning, coming up the hill, keeping speed up to make it around without getting the red light. here… i dont get the train and the trams go slowly enough that i dont think the same about them. but i still see a bus once in a while and remind myself to step back, not forward.

i’ve started not sleeping again. at first i put it down to my boyfriend keeping me awake but its not that. i can sleep beside him even at his loudest. i just dont. i lay there. i make a fuss when we go to bed, play stupid games, beg him to have sex, anything so we stay up that little bit longer. then i lay there. i get up sometimes and play xbox or read. sometimes i go have another shower. i try and stay off the internet because i know that makes it worse. i can sit here all night and wait till the sun to come up then i’ll go to bed. thats what i used to do. back when 2 hours sleep was all i got each night. i’m trying for 6 hours at the moment. i’m getting 5. on the weekends i get 12. sometimes 14. then a nap. i could spend all weekend asleep and i’d still be tired on monday morning.

i didnt leave the house today. i didnt speak to anyone other than my boyfriend. i havent spoken to anyone since tuesday, maybe wednesday. i dont answer my phone, i dont even look at it, its on silent now. i havent gotten phone credit so i’m not listening to voicemail. i leave the house 15 minutes before work and i’m back here 15 minutes after. i sometimes think of coming home for lunch but instead i go to a cafe thats so busy no one sees anyone else and there are big tables that i can sit alone with the paper and my headphones in.

i think i will leave the house tomorrow. for a little while at least. and i will talk to people. i will seem normal. i will interact. i will function. i will be thankful that my boyfriend knows me and what is going on inside my head much of the time. that he loves me. that my close friends will do all they can. but i know i need to do something. that this cant go on. i need to get help. i need to sort this out. to find ways to make it stop because whatever i’ve been doing for the last 30 years… its not working as well anymore. the cracks are starting to show. plates are falling, i cant keep on spinning these sticks on my own.

Originally written May. 20th, 2007 at 12:42 AM