Ever Plagued by Ghosts of the Past and Love that does not Last.

"Anxiety girl"
That is how I was labeled in my high school senior yearbook by a cute well liked boy who had barely started allowing himself to speak to me again after my hurting his heart just before our junior year.
I couldn't understand why he hated me so badly for not wanting to be in a committed relationship at sixteen.  (Which suggests it may have been his ego that I hurt more then his heart.)
Why anxiety girl?  Did he know me that well though he didn't speak to me or be even remotely friendly for well over a year?  Was I transparent?  Was that what others said of me?

It's been many many years since I've last encountered this boy and yet he haunted my dreams the other night.  He's haunted them before.  Too sensational and very romantic causing a deep pain upon waking that is not to my liking.
A hundred or so years ago when I "broke up" with him I really truly did not want to hurt him.  I still like him quite well.  In fact there were things about him that I liked so much it frightened me. And I couldn't restrict my repertoire to one flavor when there were so many to try.  Especially knowing that I could easily find myself getting into trouble over indulging in a flavor that agreed with me when my senses were so new to these tempting treats.
As high school progressed and I watched this flavor develop I was sad that it was not a flavor that I was any longer allowed to even flirt with.  He wouldn't have anything to do with me.  He seemed angry and cold toward me ever after.   I was not good enough for him then but why did he have to hate me for it?  It hurt me.  Then he deemed me anxiety girl. Is this why he haunts me?  He saw what I was and since it hurt me that I was no longer worth his time or energy I feel compelled to work out my feelings of inadequacy via some mystic connection to the vain imaginations of my heart and soul?

This is nonsense. The imagery is quite romantic but it is merely symbolic.  Logically I recognize this.  But symbolic of what? Symbolic of  lost time and my own shortcomings and lack of accomplishment.  Back when I was 16 I hadn't figured out what was worth holding onto and investing in.  My own sense of inadequacy has ever thwarted my attempts to pursue dreams.   Maybe it is my lack of faith in myself that hurts me.  Maybe it hurts others. I don't know if I have figured out yet what is worth investing in and holding on to.  What is worth working at or through and what is worth letting go of.
...or how
I am trying to change my course.  Trying to "make" something of myself in order to open the doors to dreams and possibilities.  My insecurities have not vanished. My flaws seemed to have, if anything, more deeply rooted themselves over the years.  It would be nice to feel that security of passion and possibilities cuddled up next to an icon of handsome success.  To feel desirable and worthwhile.
Nail is this the head?

And yet here I am Anxiety Girl through and through.

I feel blah.  Tired.  No motivation.  No energy.  Confused about life and how to live it.  Not sure where to go.  Who to turn to. 

I want change. 
I just want to feel happy and positive.
I want to be easygoing.
I don't want to be so hard on my kids.
I think sometimes I take things too serious.
I am tired and truly I want to call in to work.

... It is tempting...

I want happy, but I don't know how.

Have you ever looked at a person and felt as though you were looking into a mirror?
 Not that the person looks just like you but rather something about them seems to reflect something about you. 
You can't quite put your finger on it but you know you are seeing just enough of you in that person to wonder exactly what it is they are reflecting that you truly relate to. 
I wonder if they ever feel the same way?

Who's who and what is what

Have I ever said that I hate taking medication?
I decided to try going off the old lamictal. I've been taking it for about two years now. It has been good. I would say definitely what I needed.  But now I'd like to detox.  That and I never can tell exactly what is what. I have impatience. Is that medication or is that nurture or is it the old scar from a head injury?  I don't know.  I have been so unmotivated and there are acne issue's.  Could this be related?  I don't know.
I quite taking the antidepressant months ago and other then some anxiety that seems to have mostly subsided, I have been fine. ...No wait there have been a couple of times that I have experienced a little darkness, but nothing to concerning and nothing that has lingered.  I am OK there.
I quite taking the antibiotic I had been on for acne for the past year and a half because I just don't like the idea of it and it was not completely wiping it out anyway.  I think I could probably control that better with diet if only I could relocate that motivation and will power.
So there is just one left before I can completely detox my body.  But that is the scariest to try to go completely off of.  And as always any little change will have me wondering and guessing what is what. I suppose it is good that I don't just go off without thinking about it and am concerned with keeping myself in check.  No, not I guess- it is good. The thought of some of my previous feelings and being is pretty horrifying really.

And that is just it... It is horrifying.  I am starting to have tears well up and my throat is getting tight as I once again realize that my brain has the ability to get really screwed up.  That it has been very screwed up and it really can suck bad. 

I was down to half the dose of lamictal.  After a week of being pretty much fine, things got tough for two days.  Just an intense tired and the world was looking a bit stranger then it has in awhile.  A couple of times over the past week-and-a-half I have felt some intense excitement, something that used to be quite common for me, swelling up inside my body. It is the kind of excitement that if it continued to rise (like bread dough) it would explode from my body and I don't know that I could handle it.

I've heard a romantic ideal of letting go of all inhibitions... What a terrifying thought.

Thing is we just did the daylight savings switch, the season is changing (and in a hurry) and I've been trying to stay away from the Halloween candy that I have allowed myself to over indulge in.  All of these things could attribute to my slight changes in brain function...
But I still got scared and jumped my dose right back up to the previous increment.  Am I a chicken? Or am I being smart?

I don't know.  I just want to be me and not have to always be guessing what is what. 

Lately I've liked the idea of blaming some of my negative traits on my adolescent head injury.  It might help blaming some of the intense anger and impatience that I can be prone to on brain damage. 
The other day when I was overly angry with my husband for a miscommunication, that I was likely just as guilty in, I was able to allow myself time to settle down without saying as much and venting as much. The feelings can be so intense that in the moment I am sure I will never get over it. That it is a gross injustice and possibly the end of the world as we know it. But I let it sit.  this time reminding myself that this just might be the irrational thinking of a scarred old brain.  Before long, and with out inflicting damage to my husband I actually did settle down and was able to realize it was OK and I was in fact feeling some rather irrational and extreme feelings for the situation. 
That is another thing. I don't have the extremes in excitement, spirituality and depression (Heaven AND Hell) with lamictal but I've got the intense anger and impatience still. Then there is memory and focus... Focus was bad before, maybe worse not sure on that one.  But the memory, though it was not great before, now I feel like I am getting Alzheimer's.

So once again what to do? Dropping a bit seems like it has been good.  Maybe I should just stay here for awhile.

Nomads

"Hello darkness my old friend. I've come to talk with you again." "Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high...why oh why can't I?"

Depression seems to be peaking it's ugly head again. Yesterday I had a lot I wanted to write and say. Today is just another day those thoughts all blown away. But I am tearful.
I wish to disappear.

Yesterday I saw myself on a street corner with all of my belongings. My long blond hair radiated the highlights that only days spent in the sun can achieve. My skin had formed a protective layer of tan against the sun. I was not alone but had a travel companion. A man equally as unassuming but unshaven and nicely weathered.

It was not actually me. The couple did not appear to be unhappy. They did appear to be somewhat vagrant or maybe nomadic would fit better.

I noticed the lady most.
She was unlike your typical obvious vagrant person in that her hair was somewhat neatly pulled up into a single ponytail appropriately placed, much like mine so often is. She, at least in observation while passing, seemed rather clean. Neither had visible tattoo's or cigarette hanging from lip or limb. There was no card board sign visible. They both looked strong and healthy. Enough healthy mass that you had to be confident they were not starving. They most certainly lacked the emaciated look of drug depleted addicts. But it seemed obvious by their somewhat tidy mass of belongings and there weathered skin that they have not been home for awhile, nor spent much time indoors.

I felt a longing.
Though they were weighted down by a few belongings they did not seem to be weighted down by the world.
Maybe my perceptions were skewed by my own discontent but oh what a wonderful way to live.
If I were to allow myself I could make up a million stories to attach to this atypical pair, but I do not wish to bind them to the negativity's of my realizations of reality nor limitations of my imagination. I want to keep the vision in my head of this couple pure and simple.

I would have liked to have driven by again.

lafindumond post comment

I like this statement. "but an all consuming force, as natural as the body’s drive to heal itself; your soul must put right that which threatens it."
It explains better then people realize.

This type of depression/suicidal disease is not about "wanting to kill myself" From the mind of one so afflicted it is about having the "guts" to "fix" the problem. The diseased minds default mood. The body ever fighting to keep that mind from winning. That mind that wishes to move on, to be healed of it's infirmity, knowing that the only healing is in death, that mind will win.
But hope.
Hope that it is an ailment and not "me." Realization that sometimes only medication can give, that such a mind is not the "normal" workings of a physically healthy brain/chemistry. There is hope that can bring back life and aid those who are fighting so hard to live and be alive, against there own mind.
thanks sister

Lost in Mental illness.

Yesterday I got to have lunch with an old dear friend with whom I do not get to see much. Some things that we talked about made me think and I am feeling "inspired" to post.

This dear friend was expressing some concern and frustration with a family member who had broke down and is dealing with some serious mental health issues. In talking, my friend said one thing that made so much sense and I think happens so very often. She said
"it's like she is lost in mental illness."
She totally hit the nail on the head.

This friend said another thing at a different point in our conversing that day that in retrospect made a nice connection.

She asked what it was like for me. How I was different with and with out medication. She was interested because I have always been "functional." It's logical that one would wonder the difference.

It is hard not be frustrated and sometimes critical when we know someone who seems to fair better through something similar. And especially if we have endured some seriously hard hardships in our own lives.

That is human nature and it can be (in my opinion) a productive coping and building strategy.

However it is important to note that we are all different, have had different experiences and have different levels of, well, everything (various chemistry of the body noted here) that cause us to react differently. There is so much going into a persons mental health.

Going back to the conversation. I was explaining some of the things that she, and most, would not see unless I hit a breaking point. A point at which I no longer could keep my insanities hidden and/or myself "functional" in the public eye.
One thing I mentioned was the intense anger and sometimes violent feelings and urges I would have to fight. She responded "and that's not you."
She is right THAT is NOT ME.
We were roommates in college. And when I say roommates I mean we shared a room more close in size to a closet then a room. It fit a bunk bed, barely, and not much else. We were close friends, we shared just about everything and knew each other well. It is nice when there are people in the world who know who you are and were for just that and not for a degenerative disorder that changes things.

She is absolutely right, that is not me.

I am an optimist but I struggle with a very dark, negative and hopeless depression. I am a deep thinker and quite logical, always have been, but there are times when I can be quite irrational and ridiculous. A black hole of open-minded-ness. It's incredibly embarrassing to look back at. It scares people away and there is often no recovering- no winning them back.

One thing I do know is that I have been fortunate enough to have felt "normal" in my life. At least what I like to think is normal.
I think I likely had a head start on dealing with mental health issues when I was put away for a day, against my will, by some one in authority, and I had to face something I knew little about, did not understand and did not know if I accepted anyway. I was also put on a medication that was not only extremely hard, if not impossible, to get off of but worked. It took a year to get me there, but it worked well enough.
I also had good influences and accepting friends. This dear friend being one of those. My family loved me and though they did not (yet) understand and did not know if they accepted it as a true ailment, they tried. They did not abandon me but they also DID NOT enable me or excuse bad behavior.

This dear friend is right that is not me.
"That" was MOSTLY mental illness, some the result of an old head injury (brains don't heal and head injuries change things).
But I still had options. I am not a victim of my chemistry, my disorders, my illness, what ever you choose to call it. Or even my injury.

I realized in those little grains of wisdom from my friend that if we do not want to become lost in our mental ailments then we have to know and/or decide who we are.