Mania is very hard on families.
Even when you think you have it under control. Maybe especially when you think you have it under control... But definitely when you think it is something else and/or you don't recognize it as mania.
It is also hard on brains.
And it is hard on the hearts and brains of those you are living with.
Please don't punish people for it and if they are trying to tell you that you are missing something. When someone says, "I'm just trying to understand what is going on with my head" or "I need to make sure I am stable" "I need to make sure I am safe" those are very important words to listen to.
When they have a books worth of flooding memories and processing and are trying to show you what is going on by printing that book out don't ignore it. If they tell you they can physically feel surges of chemicals or their heart is physically hurting, it is very important not to ignore these things.
When they say "I am not having them right now, but I have and I know how to handle them I know what to do with them" this means the suicidal symptoms are present and the person is fighting them. Don't ignore these words, because suicidal tendencies ARE a symptom. Neither the problem or the solution but a symptom and indication that something is wrong and the longer they go untreated the worse they get. And if it is problem of chemistry, without medication, it takes soooooooooooooooo much time, energy and focus to stay ahead of it. Suicide is far to easy too commit, if your brain chemistry is deteriorating and your brain is looking for relief than you cannot ignore it or it'll get you, catch you off guard, and destroy you before you even know what you are doing. This is what happened to my brother. This is a battle I have fought and won many times. I know it for what it is, but that does not make it any easier, when it hits and if it is fed then it is harder to fight, takes more time and more energy and the world becomes an even more confusing place.
Please don't ignore these things.
If the person is concerned about being a burden and trying to take care of all those troubles themselves, facing the demons alone, they are very likely in worse shape than even they know. They need help. Don't ignore the cries for help. Don't make it about you.
I hope YOU read this.
And please don't do anything to hurt my son.
Wednesday, September 18, 2019
Tuesday, September 17, 2019
To gay or not gay... That is the question. (Because I am scared)
My last post... Is it my body pushing back against medication and am I swinging into a delusional high filled with grandiose ideals?
That is just it, I don't know. It may be and is that all bad? Can I, can we, as a society and individuals, capitalize on the positive aspects of some of what comes along with mental illness?
I used to have a great uncle who was our family doctor for my growing up years. He said homosexuality used to be considered a mental illness, now if you were to say something like that you would be figuratively lynched. But maybe it is, just as much as bipolar, depression, OCD, and others are. Why not? Why is saying that considered condescending to the gay and lesbians but the reverse is not considered condescending? Can we not embrace and accept other mental illnesses the way that the homosexual conditions have been fought for, embraced, and even celebrated?
When it is acceptable to be a "furry," why is it so damning to be bipolar?
Can't there be some good that comes along with bipolar? With my own over intensities?
Why is it okay to be gay but not okay to be mentally ill?
After a conversations with some teens recently I feel even more concern about all of this and the directions our society is heading. The comment was made that furries don't have a choice. I have heard that gender identity is not a choice while at the same time kids should be allowed to choose. What the hell are we teaching these future generations, what the hell are we doing to these kids?
So here is something to think about:
Like it or not, gender is not a choice. How we choose to identify IS a choice. Our sexual orientation IS a choice. Yes, I am very naturally attracted to men but I also choose to be straight. And I can change my thinking to choose differently. While I do believe their are people to which the opposite may be true I do not see how this is any different than other mental illnesses where your brain wiring and chemistry is not inline with the norm or the standard. Maybe we are not mentally ill but rather we are mentally diverse and should be accepted as such. I do not make a choice about how my brain gets so awry but I do choose how I handle it and what I do to treat it and how I work to fit in or to adapt outside of the norm.
I also see there being a problem with homosexuality being accepted while mental illness is not because, guess what, sexual attraction to the opposite sex causes? Anxiety. And it can cause a lot of it. It can be very uncomfortable and awkward to pursue that and thus we are likely to see more and more kids actually mistaking their comfort with their own gender as attraction to their own sex because they actually are attracted to the opposite sex but the anxiety and intensity of emotions they experience that accompany actual attraction is being labeled as "mental illness."
It's something to think about. And if this conversation makes you angry and you want to jump to defend gays, well, then my friend reread and please carefully exam your own bias and prejudice against "mental illness." Maybe mentally diverse really is a better term, but then will people not get help and treatment when they need it? I don't know. The problem is big and profound.
And the real reason I came on here was to say that I feel small and scared because I don't want to be big and profound. I want to me "normal" and I want to be accepted. I want to not feel the fear that I am feeling right now about trying again to establish myself within society. About the job that I feel I need to do because of my circumstances. And considering I don't take that on, I don't like the fear and apprehension I have about trying to find a job again and revisiting our former projects and some of my dreams, goals and aspirations. I am scared to branch out into the new, to say what I said I would do.
I am scared. and small. and I lack the confidence because my brain tires quickly, I know I might break, I will make mistakes, and my perfectly imperfect is really not accepted and tolerated even though I am not threatening or violent.
That is just it, I don't know. It may be and is that all bad? Can I, can we, as a society and individuals, capitalize on the positive aspects of some of what comes along with mental illness?
I used to have a great uncle who was our family doctor for my growing up years. He said homosexuality used to be considered a mental illness, now if you were to say something like that you would be figuratively lynched. But maybe it is, just as much as bipolar, depression, OCD, and others are. Why not? Why is saying that considered condescending to the gay and lesbians but the reverse is not considered condescending? Can we not embrace and accept other mental illnesses the way that the homosexual conditions have been fought for, embraced, and even celebrated?
When it is acceptable to be a "furry," why is it so damning to be bipolar?
Can't there be some good that comes along with bipolar? With my own over intensities?
Why is it okay to be gay but not okay to be mentally ill?
After a conversations with some teens recently I feel even more concern about all of this and the directions our society is heading. The comment was made that furries don't have a choice. I have heard that gender identity is not a choice while at the same time kids should be allowed to choose. What the hell are we teaching these future generations, what the hell are we doing to these kids?
So here is something to think about:
Like it or not, gender is not a choice. How we choose to identify IS a choice. Our sexual orientation IS a choice. Yes, I am very naturally attracted to men but I also choose to be straight. And I can change my thinking to choose differently. While I do believe their are people to which the opposite may be true I do not see how this is any different than other mental illnesses where your brain wiring and chemistry is not inline with the norm or the standard. Maybe we are not mentally ill but rather we are mentally diverse and should be accepted as such. I do not make a choice about how my brain gets so awry but I do choose how I handle it and what I do to treat it and how I work to fit in or to adapt outside of the norm.
I also see there being a problem with homosexuality being accepted while mental illness is not because, guess what, sexual attraction to the opposite sex causes? Anxiety. And it can cause a lot of it. It can be very uncomfortable and awkward to pursue that and thus we are likely to see more and more kids actually mistaking their comfort with their own gender as attraction to their own sex because they actually are attracted to the opposite sex but the anxiety and intensity of emotions they experience that accompany actual attraction is being labeled as "mental illness."
It's something to think about. And if this conversation makes you angry and you want to jump to defend gays, well, then my friend reread and please carefully exam your own bias and prejudice against "mental illness." Maybe mentally diverse really is a better term, but then will people not get help and treatment when they need it? I don't know. The problem is big and profound.
And the real reason I came on here was to say that I feel small and scared because I don't want to be big and profound. I want to me "normal" and I want to be accepted. I want to not feel the fear that I am feeling right now about trying again to establish myself within society. About the job that I feel I need to do because of my circumstances. And considering I don't take that on, I don't like the fear and apprehension I have about trying to find a job again and revisiting our former projects and some of my dreams, goals and aspirations. I am scared to branch out into the new, to say what I said I would do.
I am scared. and small. and I lack the confidence because my brain tires quickly, I know I might break, I will make mistakes, and my perfectly imperfect is really not accepted and tolerated even though I am not threatening or violent.
It is not like in the movie "I Feel Pretty," when you wake up to your embarrassment and want to hide away. In real life everyone lets you hide and far too often they don't forgive and they don't try to understand, sometimes simply because your mistakes were not big enough and obvious enough, just weird and maybe annoying or intimidating or too intense so therefore, you are disposed of because their are plenty of other fish in the sea.
When you have a brain injury and you are foggy, anxious emotional, and forgetful you don't get extra help or understanding, you get bad grades, mad parents, or you get fired.
I'd rather be a legit homosexual at this point in society. But I'm not going to be because, for me, I would simply be choosing that and going against my natural and default personal chemistry ...when I am already fighting enough of my own personal chemistry.
It's the same reason I never did drugs or got into drinking as a teen, I was already screwed up enough. I didn't need any help with that. What I do need is love, acceptance, compassion, respect, equal and fair treatment and for people to stop using my "conditions" against me or thinking that they mean so many things they do not.
I'd rather be a legit homosexual at this point in society. But I'm not going to be because, for me, I would simply be choosing that and going against my natural and default personal chemistry ...when I am already fighting enough of my own personal chemistry.
It's the same reason I never did drugs or got into drinking as a teen, I was already screwed up enough. I didn't need any help with that. What I do need is love, acceptance, compassion, respect, equal and fair treatment and for people to stop using my "conditions" against me or thinking that they mean so many things they do not.
Sunday, September 15, 2019
Shallow Hal needs a Big Gal
Sometimes it is one, occasionally I have jumped by teens. This blog that I don't really advertise but occasionally share with individuals, tells me how many unique views it receives. It's not many. And I am okay with that. I have actually asked very few people to actually read it or a specific entry and I am never sure if they do. My sister, I asked to read it awhile ago. She never remembers to and that is fine, it is how life goes. I get that.
But every time I come on here and see my numbers change I feel a bit of joy as I say to myself "Oh, I've been read."
Helping looks something like that. Often we want or wish for big numbers and we may not even invest our time in helping if we are not getting those big numbers but long ago I realized helping just one person is helping and it is significant because that one person is very significant.
If all I ever help is one person I have made a difference and I have changed the world
and I like the sense of satisfaction that brings. This is something I write because I feel it will likely be important for me to remember as I proceed with what I am coming to see and accept as my life's purpose.
I have a voice that needs to be heard. I know this and I have been told this more than once. I can bridge gaps and face stigma's because I have been doing that for so very long. It is when I shy away and hide myself from this, when I become self deprecating, that I inevitably start to break again. I think it is time for me to embrace who and what I am.
I believe it is time for me to get big.
Something like the kind of big that confused dear Dr. He in his office and profession but not the kind of big I was when he lost all his power to me and turned to self preservation not understanding himself that, in that moment, I was physiologically big from the chemical effects of mania. He did not understand because he had lost objectivity and I really am that good at managing my madness or he did understand and knew that he could play that to his advantage, use it against me. I suspect the first but there is evidence that suggests the latter and it could be a human conscious or unconscious combination of both. I am not sure.
But one thing I am sure of, is as I have tried to solve the mystery of what happened and what was and still is going on with my head I have found all the TBI stuff ringing so very true time and time again. I have found research that is tied to Dr. He that has me written all over it. I don't know if he has ever realized that and at the time of much of this research we had not even met, but I'm there in it, plain as day.
This morning, this research, confirmed that I need to keep fighting. I am in that world and that is where I belong. They really could learn so much from me and my voice needs to be heard, not just for my sake. I can bridge gaps and help or straight up fix the Neuroscience Institute.
So I have started to make connections with people that I hope can help and now my goal, my life's purpose is to make sure all that I know, all the work I have done to get me to this point is shared and heard and available to others because can be helpful to many more people.
I have worked hard to be the change I wish to see in the world now I will fight for the change I wish to see in the world. I will fight to end stigma's, to bridge gap's and to bring understanding and healing to broken minds and broken hearts.
I will fight harder and ironically that is bringing me back to life.
I hope you will join me, as I am about to go big.
But every time I come on here and see my numbers change I feel a bit of joy as I say to myself "Oh, I've been read."
Helping looks something like that. Often we want or wish for big numbers and we may not even invest our time in helping if we are not getting those big numbers but long ago I realized helping just one person is helping and it is significant because that one person is very significant.
If all I ever help is one person I have made a difference and I have changed the world
and I like the sense of satisfaction that brings. This is something I write because I feel it will likely be important for me to remember as I proceed with what I am coming to see and accept as my life's purpose.
I have a voice that needs to be heard. I know this and I have been told this more than once. I can bridge gaps and face stigma's because I have been doing that for so very long. It is when I shy away and hide myself from this, when I become self deprecating, that I inevitably start to break again. I think it is time for me to embrace who and what I am.
I believe it is time for me to get big.
Something like the kind of big that confused dear Dr. He in his office and profession but not the kind of big I was when he lost all his power to me and turned to self preservation not understanding himself that, in that moment, I was physiologically big from the chemical effects of mania. He did not understand because he had lost objectivity and I really am that good at managing my madness or he did understand and knew that he could play that to his advantage, use it against me. I suspect the first but there is evidence that suggests the latter and it could be a human conscious or unconscious combination of both. I am not sure.
But one thing I am sure of, is as I have tried to solve the mystery of what happened and what was and still is going on with my head I have found all the TBI stuff ringing so very true time and time again. I have found research that is tied to Dr. He that has me written all over it. I don't know if he has ever realized that and at the time of much of this research we had not even met, but I'm there in it, plain as day.
This morning, this research, confirmed that I need to keep fighting. I am in that world and that is where I belong. They really could learn so much from me and my voice needs to be heard, not just for my sake. I can bridge gaps and help or straight up fix the Neuroscience Institute.
So I have started to make connections with people that I hope can help and now my goal, my life's purpose is to make sure all that I know, all the work I have done to get me to this point is shared and heard and available to others because can be helpful to many more people.
I have worked hard to be the change I wish to see in the world now I will fight for the change I wish to see in the world. I will fight to end stigma's, to bridge gap's and to bring understanding and healing to broken minds and broken hearts.
I will fight harder and ironically that is bringing me back to life.
I hope you will join me, as I am about to go big.
Saturday, September 14, 2019
I Walk Alone
I’m at the Out of the Darkness Suicide Prevention walk. I came alone. “How pathetic” I think. But no, I am not pathetic at all. How many people do you know that ultimately have the courage to show up at an event like this alone?
I collect my beads. 1st Orange for my brother. Next blue, for supporting, teal for any other friend or family member, and green for my own struggles. I put the orange, blue and teal around my neck and then I placed the green into my pocket.
I am here alone in my struggle and I don’t want to advertise that. I don’t want to be noticed for it AND I don’t want to not be noticed for it. In my pocket is fine.
I walk away from the beads, see two awkward adolescents also wearing orange, ask if they also lost a sibling. The girl answers yes, their brother. I say "it sucks" and ask if I can give her a hug. Her brother, looks younger, shies away behind her. I ask him if I can give him a hug also. “Yes” awkward side hug, but I don't care, he said yes so he probably needed it too.
I head toward the center of this massive event and I see their posters with the notes people posted.This is the first and only one I see. And I need to turn away because now I am crying. And alone. so I want a little quite place of my very own where I can disappear into a tree and be present from the sidelines.
What a beautiful anomaly this tree is. I decide to join it. This is where I start this very bog entry. Sitting on the root arch of that tree. As my emotions settle again and the eye flooding subsides I realize, with this very unique tree, perched on the arch, I am hardly invisible. So I laugh inside and hop down. I listen to a well known radio DJ tell the story of loosing his own brother.
I see IHC's booth and I feel my anger but also know the people there are not who I am angry with. However, I am here to stand as a witness, if only to my self, that even when you think you are alone you are not and to show that I can keep fighting and I am worth standing up for. So I go to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention organization's booth (they are the facilitators of this event) and I collect their information. I write "Neuroscience Institute, across the top along with the name of the facility/office director whom I had told "I am just trying to understand what is going on with my head" and "I am not sure what it looks like but I know I need to stand up for myself" and then later yelled at me for wanting to be kept in-house, thinking they should talk to me and address the issues that happened there I was trying to address instead of sending me away, alone, to try and find an entirely new team when I was such a mess and not even sure what help I needed and for what since I was allowed no clarifying conversation.
I go to IHC's booth and ask who works for them. I tell her they need some training. I show her the green beads from my pocket and say "They are feeding this" and then I walk away shaking.
But I think, and return. Talk a little more to the lady but explain very little, just that they played games with me and feed the suicidal, instead of treating me fairly. I write down Concussion doctor's name, Neuropsychologist's name, and Patient Advocate's name. I ask that they all get trained or at very least they get this reading material.
I talk to a few people. Get some hugs and love from one lady and I am glad I am here.
Then I am then drawn to these shirts. I loved the design and saying. As I got close I found some of my own coincidental humor in them also. If you zoom in to read and you have been following my blog I think you may also find it ever so coincidentally comical. I have to ask, "who is Jon?" I am then introduced to the mom of Jon. She is a beautiful and significant person. She designed the shirts. She tells me some about Jon. He was 18. I tell her a bit about my brother and the military's flawed policies. He was 28 or 29, it's been 10 years and I can't remember exact age and don't really care to fixate on that detail, he was too young and that is what matters most. As this beautiful mom tells me about her son I am sad for them and proud of them. They were trying. Her son was sensitive and intelligent. He felt things deeply and that made life a challenge at times. I can relate to what she is telling me. I tell her things that surprise her a bit. She asks "how do you know so much about all of this?" I have been living it for a very long time. "I'll write you a book," I say and she likes this idea.
I'm going to jump now to another significant part of this event. At one point I was walking and fingering the green beads in my pocket when I noticed that the necklace had come apart. It was broken. I could not even wear it now if I wanted to. This made me so happy. I even pulled it out and showed the beautiful mom. I loved that the suicidal struggles of my own are broken. This is a good thing to have broken. I'm taking this as a sign and an omen and I'm going to run with it. I will keep holding on to that, -the breaking of my brokenness- because I have beat this before. And now that these beads are broken I can officially say that I have beat it once again (at least the suicidal part of it) and I will do it again and again if I have to.
I collect my beads. 1st Orange for my brother. Next blue, for supporting, teal for any other friend or family member, and green for my own struggles. I put the orange, blue and teal around my neck and then I placed the green into my pocket.
I am here alone in my struggle and I don’t want to advertise that. I don’t want to be noticed for it AND I don’t want to not be noticed for it. In my pocket is fine.
I walk away from the beads, see two awkward adolescents also wearing orange, ask if they also lost a sibling. The girl answers yes, their brother. I say "it sucks" and ask if I can give her a hug. Her brother, looks younger, shies away behind her. I ask him if I can give him a hug also. “Yes” awkward side hug, but I don't care, he said yes so he probably needed it too.
I head toward the center of this massive event and I see their posters with the notes people posted.This is the first and only one I see. And I need to turn away because now I am crying. And alone. so I want a little quite place of my very own where I can disappear into a tree and be present from the sidelines.
What a beautiful anomaly this tree is. I decide to join it. This is where I start this very bog entry. Sitting on the root arch of that tree. As my emotions settle again and the eye flooding subsides I realize, with this very unique tree, perched on the arch, I am hardly invisible. So I laugh inside and hop down. I listen to a well known radio DJ tell the story of loosing his own brother.
I see IHC's booth and I feel my anger but also know the people there are not who I am angry with. However, I am here to stand as a witness, if only to my self, that even when you think you are alone you are not and to show that I can keep fighting and I am worth standing up for. So I go to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention organization's booth (they are the facilitators of this event) and I collect their information. I write "Neuroscience Institute, across the top along with the name of the facility/office director whom I had told "I am just trying to understand what is going on with my head" and "I am not sure what it looks like but I know I need to stand up for myself" and then later yelled at me for wanting to be kept in-house, thinking they should talk to me and address the issues that happened there I was trying to address instead of sending me away, alone, to try and find an entirely new team when I was such a mess and not even sure what help I needed and for what since I was allowed no clarifying conversation.
I go to IHC's booth and ask who works for them. I tell her they need some training. I show her the green beads from my pocket and say "They are feeding this" and then I walk away shaking.
But I think, and return. Talk a little more to the lady but explain very little, just that they played games with me and feed the suicidal, instead of treating me fairly. I write down Concussion doctor's name, Neuropsychologist's name, and Patient Advocate's name. I ask that they all get trained or at very least they get this reading material.
I talk to a few people. Get some hugs and love from one lady and I am glad I am here.
I am so impressed at the amount of people present. I notice beautiful people being honored on t-shirts and I am so happy to see that they are honored and loved still in spite of how they passed. I see my brother in one particularly fun looking brother of a beautiful lady who is there alone with her 3 young children. I admire her. I appreciate the picture of her brother. I let her know.
Then I am then drawn to these shirts. I loved the design and saying. As I got close I found some of my own coincidental humor in them also. If you zoom in to read and you have been following my blog I think you may also find it ever so coincidentally comical. I have to ask, "who is Jon?" I am then introduced to the mom of Jon. She is a beautiful and significant person. She designed the shirts. She tells me some about Jon. He was 18. I tell her a bit about my brother and the military's flawed policies. He was 28 or 29, it's been 10 years and I can't remember exact age and don't really care to fixate on that detail, he was too young and that is what matters most. As this beautiful mom tells me about her son I am sad for them and proud of them. They were trying. Her son was sensitive and intelligent. He felt things deeply and that made life a challenge at times. I can relate to what she is telling me. I tell her things that surprise her a bit. She asks "how do you know so much about all of this?" I have been living it for a very long time. "I'll write you a book," I say and she likes this idea.
I have been fighting similar battles as her son for a very long time. I explain my belief that suicidal tendencies are a symptom. They are neither the problem nor solution, they are a symptom and we need to listen to them as that. They were doing that, and from what she has told me, I am so impressed at how they were. But she had never heard it put the way I just did and wishes it would be. She thinks it is a helpful and more productive way to approach this. She thinks it could have helped her son.... Because her son got caught in that trap of not understanding that it was a symptom and after being on medication for short period, when they were just starting to see the improvements, is when he passed. He did not realize or understand what he was fighting. He swung too fast before his thinking was able to correct. He likely did not have the tools or even know he needed them. One thing his mom told me was that he had said things about not wanting to be a burden. My own voice echoed in my head at this. I thought of my brother, others who I know that have gone this way, and more I know that I still fear we will lose to mental illness. I believe that many of the most likely to succeed in their attempt are also very likely to be in a mindset of not wanting to be a burden or tired of feeling like a burden. In their mind they are taking care of the problem themselves and doing their part to relieve the burden on others.
I am going off in a direction I did not intend to, but as I have so many times before and to stay true to my own healing and processing process I will let it be. Though I know it is getting lengthy, today was significant so I suppose a significant post is appropriate.
I'm going to jump now to another significant part of this event. At one point I was walking and fingering the green beads in my pocket when I noticed that the necklace had come apart. It was broken. I could not even wear it now if I wanted to. This made me so happy. I even pulled it out and showed the beautiful mom. I loved that the suicidal struggles of my own are broken. This is a good thing to have broken. I'm taking this as a sign and an omen and I'm going to run with it. I will keep holding on to that, -the breaking of my brokenness- because I have beat this before. And now that these beads are broken I can officially say that I have beat it once again (at least the suicidal part of it) and I will do it again and again if I have to.
This is what I thought as I walked back to my truck and noticed this beautiful green tree with it's amazing and peculiar long green beans and then it was followed by the tree covered in so many tiny loving hearts.
My heart has been broken so many times for so many reasons but still there are amazing people worth loving for any amount of time and this world holds so very many special and magical treasures all around. I love that. And I love living which is why I will keep fighting not just to survive but also to live and be a alive. I will keep working to thrive.
This is also a fun one You'll Never Walk Alone
Friday, September 13, 2019
Push back and history. Please listen
My dang head has been in this stupid mess for too long. I had no idea I needed Dr. She's simple words as much as I still do.
"Keep fighting"
Psychiatric PA let me know the double dose was not going to be a time release pill.
I think I am noticing that.
My brain seems to be pushing back. It wants to return to it's homeostatic chaos...
Maybe I just need to be busy. Maybe I just need a real job.
I kind of dislike the identity crises of this whole process.
I dislike that, though this is significantly different than any other time, I have been through this stuff before. The unstable and stabilizing.
I am remembering more again.
I once rolled my car as a result of an up. Sometimes I like to blame the worn out shocks on the little Jetta with over 300k, but the truth is, I was in a "spiritual high" and taking high stake risks that my more level brain knows are not wise. My toddler, who was directly behind me, was falling asleep with the sun blazing on him, so I turned back to position his blanket in the window. The windows were manual, I was driving. This is very stupid and not something I would normally consider doing while driving, especially on a freeway at freeway speeds (at least it was uncrowded and rural). When I turned back I found I was drifting off the road. I steered us back on, maybe over corrected a bit. That coupled with the 300+k worn suspension, made my overcorrection an impossible come back, and it resulted in a fluid floating rollover that landed us top side down facing the wrong way in the dip just off the side of the freeway.
God was watching over us, I know, and I experienced true faith knowing, as we floated over, that everything was going to be okay.
It was.
My babies strapped in their carseats in the back were okay, only babygirl, who was around the age of 4, had a slight red mark on her shoulder from hanging upside down in her carseat a bit longer.
We were very lucky. And I am so grateful.
And while I know God was protecting us, that was also the moment in time when I made a conscious decision to start shutting that part of me off. I was choosing to close the curtains into the realm of the spiritual. That would present it's own new struggles, especially in my family and culture, but I would rather keep my family safe in this human mortal realm.
This is a reminder that my perfectly imperfect may not actually be acceptable. I know this. It is my buried story that needs to stay buried and contained. It is what I struggle to understand, control, and manage. It can at times be what both attracts and detracts people to and from me.
When people say things like "everyone is like that" or "everyone has feelings like that," or "everyone experiences those things," sometimes I think "Well than EVERYONE needs to be medicated."
So the push back to the medication, is unwelcome.
Push back,
please go away,
please don't come again some other day.
I used to think a person is likely better off not having a major break or a major episode. It was a theory of mine; That if we could catch mental illness early enough and prevent major episodes, the person would be much better off. I think I am feeling this breaking of me to the higher degree is proving my theory to be accurate.
I can't go back, I can only move forward, but man it has sure been much more challenging moving forward this time around, and now I'm finding my body pushing back, likely not as responsive to the medication as it would have been had I not broken quite as big and been enduring without the medication and without honest help for so long.
...
...They could learn a lot from me
If only they would listen.
"Keep fighting"
Psychiatric PA let me know the double dose was not going to be a time release pill.
I think I am noticing that.
My brain seems to be pushing back. It wants to return to it's homeostatic chaos...
Maybe I just need to be busy. Maybe I just need a real job.
I kind of dislike the identity crises of this whole process.
I dislike that, though this is significantly different than any other time, I have been through this stuff before. The unstable and stabilizing.
I am remembering more again.
I once rolled my car as a result of an up. Sometimes I like to blame the worn out shocks on the little Jetta with over 300k, but the truth is, I was in a "spiritual high" and taking high stake risks that my more level brain knows are not wise. My toddler, who was directly behind me, was falling asleep with the sun blazing on him, so I turned back to position his blanket in the window. The windows were manual, I was driving. This is very stupid and not something I would normally consider doing while driving, especially on a freeway at freeway speeds (at least it was uncrowded and rural). When I turned back I found I was drifting off the road. I steered us back on, maybe over corrected a bit. That coupled with the 300+k worn suspension, made my overcorrection an impossible come back, and it resulted in a fluid floating rollover that landed us top side down facing the wrong way in the dip just off the side of the freeway.
God was watching over us, I know, and I experienced true faith knowing, as we floated over, that everything was going to be okay.
It was.
My babies strapped in their carseats in the back were okay, only babygirl, who was around the age of 4, had a slight red mark on her shoulder from hanging upside down in her carseat a bit longer.
We were very lucky. And I am so grateful.
And while I know God was protecting us, that was also the moment in time when I made a conscious decision to start shutting that part of me off. I was choosing to close the curtains into the realm of the spiritual. That would present it's own new struggles, especially in my family and culture, but I would rather keep my family safe in this human mortal realm.
This is a reminder that my perfectly imperfect may not actually be acceptable. I know this. It is my buried story that needs to stay buried and contained. It is what I struggle to understand, control, and manage. It can at times be what both attracts and detracts people to and from me.
When people say things like "everyone is like that" or "everyone has feelings like that," or "everyone experiences those things," sometimes I think "Well than EVERYONE needs to be medicated."
So the push back to the medication, is unwelcome.
Push back,
please go away,
please don't come again some other day.
I used to think a person is likely better off not having a major break or a major episode. It was a theory of mine; That if we could catch mental illness early enough and prevent major episodes, the person would be much better off. I think I am feeling this breaking of me to the higher degree is proving my theory to be accurate.
I can't go back, I can only move forward, but man it has sure been much more challenging moving forward this time around, and now I'm finding my body pushing back, likely not as responsive to the medication as it would have been had I not broken quite as big and been enduring without the medication and without honest help for so long.
...
...They could learn a lot from me
If only they would listen.
Out of the Darkness!
Tomorrow there is an Out the Darkness community walk. It is about fighting suicide, supporting families and people who are affected by it and trying to change stigma's around mental illness and mental health.
I want to attend and I also don't.
I want to invite my family and friends to come with me... but, I am afraid to.
I am afraid because I don't want to feel the lack of support if they say no. I am afraid to because I know some people will look at me differently, for whatever reason, no matter how I present it.
I am afraid because I don't want them to think things about my brother that may not be true because I know there will be people there that are nothing like him and nothing like how he was. I am afraid to because I am not sure I want to explain that is not just because of him that I want to attend. I am afraid to go because I may find myself in an angry tirade at IHC because they are one of the sponsors and I think that is very hypocritical considering how they have handled me.
...But mostly I am afraid to ask family and friends because I fear the rejection and how that might actually feed those fading thoughts and that core beleif that thinks I might be worthless.
Isn't that silly?
I can't attend the suicide prevention walk because I fear it might fuel it?... But then again, I think that is a pretty normally occurring phenomena. We don't want to be around sick people because we fear catching it. We don't want to accept mental illness because we fear it will increase it. We don't want to hang out with people who are different than we are because we fear we might become too similar to them.
The thing is these fears are not entirely irrational or ungrounded. Some can be, especially in the extreme, but there is some accuracy to those fears. Which is why people listen to their fears. I think when we can identify our fear we can then address it constructively and make a wise and rational decision that can benefit ourselves and others. But that fear is also a nudging into something we need to address.
So as I think of my fear and identify where it is coming from and then objectively look at it and how and why I might be feeling it, the realities of if and the extremes that are not so real or may be inaccurate, and I realize, I am pretty normal for feeling those things.
Which is why I'll go, with or without support from friends or family. They have their stuff and I have safely waited until the last minute to mention it to anyone so I can't really take it personally if they don't go anyway.
So I will go because I am normal and normal people, even good, kind, and intelligent people can struggle with this and be affected by it. I will go because even when I feel alone I am not alone and if simply being there can communicate that to someone else and offer some form of hope, I'll go.
I want to attend and I also don't.
I want to invite my family and friends to come with me... but, I am afraid to.
I am afraid because I don't want to feel the lack of support if they say no. I am afraid to because I know some people will look at me differently, for whatever reason, no matter how I present it.
I am afraid because I don't want them to think things about my brother that may not be true because I know there will be people there that are nothing like him and nothing like how he was. I am afraid to because I am not sure I want to explain that is not just because of him that I want to attend. I am afraid to go because I may find myself in an angry tirade at IHC because they are one of the sponsors and I think that is very hypocritical considering how they have handled me.
...But mostly I am afraid to ask family and friends because I fear the rejection and how that might actually feed those fading thoughts and that core beleif that thinks I might be worthless.
Isn't that silly?
I can't attend the suicide prevention walk because I fear it might fuel it?... But then again, I think that is a pretty normally occurring phenomena. We don't want to be around sick people because we fear catching it. We don't want to accept mental illness because we fear it will increase it. We don't want to hang out with people who are different than we are because we fear we might become too similar to them.
The thing is these fears are not entirely irrational or ungrounded. Some can be, especially in the extreme, but there is some accuracy to those fears. Which is why people listen to their fears. I think when we can identify our fear we can then address it constructively and make a wise and rational decision that can benefit ourselves and others. But that fear is also a nudging into something we need to address.
So as I think of my fear and identify where it is coming from and then objectively look at it and how and why I might be feeling it, the realities of if and the extremes that are not so real or may be inaccurate, and I realize, I am pretty normal for feeling those things.
Which is why I'll go, with or without support from friends or family. They have their stuff and I have safely waited until the last minute to mention it to anyone so I can't really take it personally if they don't go anyway.
So I will go because I am normal and normal people, even good, kind, and intelligent people can struggle with this and be affected by it. I will go because even when I feel alone I am not alone and if simply being there can communicate that to someone else and offer some form of hope, I'll go.
Thursday, September 12, 2019
"Keep fighting," she says; and How to change your negative core beliefs
It's not that I don't value myself. I do. But deep inside I am insecure and Dr. She says I "fear being worthless" or having no value to anyone. She says I have a core belief about this that is in my heart. And when anything happens that will take a hit to my self esteem or sense of self worth that core is going to come out and tell me I am worthless and that what ever is happening is happening because I am worthless and/or unlovable or whatever that negative core belief is.
Yes. She is probably correct. And my brain, being the analyzer it is will often quickly agree: "Yes, that must be true because it is a basic law of economics. Supply and demand. It doesn't matter how amazing or awesome the product is, if no one is calling for it, there is no demand, it has no value." And I am so keenly aware of so many things. It is not just one thing that suggest this to my logical brain there are many. Including, but not limited to, how our flawed primary educational systems feed it. Remember all those dumb work sheets? "Good, better, best." All the sorting and categorizing? "Cut and paste all the picture that start with P, throw out the ones that don't belong"
Then I have to rationalize with things like: "I built that shed" to which the core will reply, "with your dad who was impatient and mad at you most of the time, despite how patient he has become with everyone else over the years."
So I'll try: "I biked 2 countries in 2 months with my 2 kids" to which my core will reply "and lost many friends because you tagged along and they didn't actually want you there, but you were too stupid to respond to the red flags."
"But I have at least walked a mile in the shoes of an elementary school teacher"
"And they did not offer to hold your job while you were in Brazil, plus the two teachers that shot down 100% (wish I were exaggerating there) of your ideas."
..."I am tired of fighting." I tell Dr. She today
She said I have to keep fighting and fight harder again.
She meant it.
And while I am tired of fighting that was really all I needed to hear.
And she is correct.
So to my thoughts I say:
"now wait a minute, I didn't claim anything more than walking a mile in teacher shoes, and I fully admit that about did me in. My back gave out twice and I had more colds and lost my voice with those more times than I think I have in the rest of my life combined. And I was putting in 14 hour days, did you really want to go back to that? I did not ask them to hold the job either. Plus, those two teachers, that did, in fact, shoot down 100% (I also wish I were exaggerating) of my ideas also snagged many of those ideas out from under me and even pulled them out meetings with the big guys to make themselves look good. There is something to that which actually says a lot of good things about me."
"And I love my shed. I designed it and did a lot of the inside myself. Also it's probably good my dad feels safe enough with me to be ornery and impatient with me. He doesn't have that safety other places."
"As far as the friends, good riddance. You were there, you saw their true colors and you only biked with them for 1 out of the 2.5 months. You did this with your kids, by yourself, and you and I both know (or rather I and I know) they kind of hated you for that because it overshadowed them a bit and stole some of there glory, even though you weren't trying to."
"So core belief, you are wrong again and I am not okay with you being wrong about this so you will have to keep working on changing or be gone."
"You are right myself" and my core is softening, remembering why it has been so determined to change for me, and agreeing with Dr. She, to fight harder.
Because I am worth it.
Yes. She is probably correct. And my brain, being the analyzer it is will often quickly agree: "Yes, that must be true because it is a basic law of economics. Supply and demand. It doesn't matter how amazing or awesome the product is, if no one is calling for it, there is no demand, it has no value." And I am so keenly aware of so many things. It is not just one thing that suggest this to my logical brain there are many. Including, but not limited to, how our flawed primary educational systems feed it. Remember all those dumb work sheets? "Good, better, best." All the sorting and categorizing? "Cut and paste all the picture that start with P, throw out the ones that don't belong"
Then I have to rationalize with things like: "I built that shed" to which the core will reply, "with your dad who was impatient and mad at you most of the time, despite how patient he has become with everyone else over the years."
So I'll try: "I biked 2 countries in 2 months with my 2 kids" to which my core will reply "and lost many friends because you tagged along and they didn't actually want you there, but you were too stupid to respond to the red flags."
"But I have at least walked a mile in the shoes of an elementary school teacher"
"And they did not offer to hold your job while you were in Brazil, plus the two teachers that shot down 100% (wish I were exaggerating there) of your ideas."
..."I am tired of fighting." I tell Dr. She today
She said I have to keep fighting and fight harder again.
She meant it.
And while I am tired of fighting that was really all I needed to hear.
And she is correct.
So to my thoughts I say:
"now wait a minute, I didn't claim anything more than walking a mile in teacher shoes, and I fully admit that about did me in. My back gave out twice and I had more colds and lost my voice with those more times than I think I have in the rest of my life combined. And I was putting in 14 hour days, did you really want to go back to that? I did not ask them to hold the job either. Plus, those two teachers, that did, in fact, shoot down 100% (I also wish I were exaggerating) of my ideas also snagged many of those ideas out from under me and even pulled them out meetings with the big guys to make themselves look good. There is something to that which actually says a lot of good things about me."
"As far as the friends, good riddance. You were there, you saw their true colors and you only biked with them for 1 out of the 2.5 months. You did this with your kids, by yourself, and you and I both know (or rather I and I know) they kind of hated you for that because it overshadowed them a bit and stole some of there glory, even though you weren't trying to."
"So core belief, you are wrong again and I am not okay with you being wrong about this so you will have to keep working on changing or be gone."
"You are right myself" and my core is softening, remembering why it has been so determined to change for me, and agreeing with Dr. She, to fight harder.
Because I am worth it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)