They say sometimes you win some Sometimes you lose some And right now, right now I’m losing bad I’ve stood on this stage night after night Reminding the broken it’ll be alright But right now, oh right now I just can’t
It’s easy to sing When there’s nothing to bring me down But what will I say When I’m held to the flame Like I am right now
I know You’re able and I know You can Save through the fire with Your mighty hand But even if You don’t My hope is You alone
They say it only takes a little faith To move a mountain Well good thing A little faith is all I have, right now But God, when You choose To leave mountains unmovable Oh give me the strength to be able to sing It is well with my soul
I know You’re able and I know You can Save through the fire with Your mighty hand But even if You don’t My hope is You alone I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt Would all go away if You’d just say the word But even if You don’t My hope is You alone
You’ve been faithful, You’ve been good All of my days Jesus, I will cling to You Come what may ‘Cause I know You’re able I know You can
I know You’re able and I know You can Save through the fire with Your mighty hand But even if You don’t My hope is You alone I know the sorrow, I know the hurt Would all go away if You’d just say the word But even if You don’t My hope is You alone
It is well with my soul It is well, it is well with my soul….
So I’m going through a bit of a rough time right now. For the past month or so to be quite honest. Yesterday I saw both my therapist and my psychiatrist, as well as my case worker. Everything just kinda came crashing down around me, starting at counseling. I broke. I literally just fell apart. I’ve been holding a lot of things since the beginning of December that I haven’t told anyone about. Things regarding my mental health. And because I’ve been trying to handle it myself but not being successful, things continued to escalate and it just so happened that one thing led to another and while talking to (counselor) my entire body started to tremble violently. I thought I was having a seizure. My teeth began to chatter as if I was freezing. I dissociated and have no memory of the next half hour but I remember looking at the clock and there was only 5 minutes left to my session.
Anyways she wouldn’t let me leave. I was suicidal. And I have been for a while. The thoughts have reached a point where it’s taken over everything. It’s always there….and I have to spend my days trying to restrain myself from causing some serious harm.
An agreement was made that I would go to my psychiatrist appointment which was right after and I would tell him the truth about my current state and that I would have 2 days to sit and fill David in on everything …
I’m going to be having a medication change now. I’m going to be coming off Epival over the next 7days while starting Lamotrigine at the same time.
I spent 2 hours pouring things out to David and I cried myself to sleep. I was also supposed to give him my meds and he just give me a couple days at a time but I failed to do that part.
My counselor said that she will call me on Friday to check on me and see if I’ve told David. They don’t want me dealing with it alone anymore and they felt he should be aware that I have been having strong suicidal thoughts. So if I need to reach out to him for help it won’t come as a surprise to him.
So……that’s where I’m at these days. Just breathing and trying to figure out how on earth I can keep fighting this … and whether or not I even want to.
Therapy is done in layers, but unlike an onion, we don’t simply peel off and discard layers once we look at them. We take a layer, examine it, put it back, take another layer, leave it for later, skip a layer to see something else, then go back to the second layer and reexamine it with what we know now. Maybe along the way you fall back into an oldhabit(remember, the layers don’t disappear) and we spend some time just holding all the layers without processing or questioning them.
Entering therapy with much to talk about—that’s the top layer, or maybe even the second or third. Sometimes that top layer—what we sometimes refer to in therapy circles as the “presenting problem”—has been getting all the attention for so long because it’s the loudest or most painful. When that’s peeled back for a moment, when it has received some attention, we need to take some time to see what else may be exposed. These may be quieter parts of you but are no less important or meaningful
I can’t stand a lot of different kinds of dirty, and a dirty bathroom is the worst. A filthy house gives me a sense of physical desperation akin to claustrophobia. It feels as if chaos is raining down on me. Like I’m drowning under piles of trash. As if the earth itself has vomited all over me.
I know it’s crazy and that it’s the OCD talking. No. I am not drowning in trash. Garbage gets taken out every day. Yes. There is dog fur. I have 2 dogs so there is not a day where there’s no fur somewhere. There’s a layer of dust on the baseboard heater. I noticed it at 3:30am when I was cleaning up from yet another late night binge and purge session, which has been a regular occurrence this week.
I am so tired. Exhausted really. If I slow down or sit for a bit, I find myself nodding off within minutes. But let me lie down and get comfy so I can have a decent rest, and immediately I’m back on high alert.
Thoughts screaming around in my head, shouting demands at me to dust the heater. Or wipe the puppy nose prints off the window, so they can smear it all up again.
There’s no end. I hurt. Physically. I feel everything I do is done in vain because I have to keep doing it over and over. I want a clean house. And I want to curl up with Netflix and watch all day long without having to lift a finger to clean anything. A day for me.
I feel so awful for even saying that. Its selfish to want it all about me.
God, I am such a loser.
I hate the feeling when I wake up in the morning (scratch that, and let’s be honest, I meant the afternoon) and my heart just bottoms out. The weight of it is so heavy that it falls right out of my chest and at lightning speed it goes down through my intestines, through my bladder, and then falls out of my body with a thud on the floor.
I haven’t had my feet on the floor more than 5 minutes and I have already fallen apart.
I can’t keep up with this. My anxiety is really bad. I’ve been going around today visiting some family and my legs are weak. My heart is continuously beating fast and very deep. It feels like my heart is no longer located in my chest, but rather in the pit of my stomach.And thankfully I have autocorrect because 5I’m shaking so much that it is difficult to type anything on my phone.
Yesterday I ended up missing out on a family gathering because I mentally could not convince my limbs to move. I felt paralyzed and glued to my mattress. It wasn’t until 2pm that I could get myself to stand up. Things continued to work in slow motion the rest of the day.
I did manage to dress and put on some mascara and eye shadow and by 5:45m I Was standing in the kitchen, ready to leave to go to a Christmas church service. I was proud of myself for getting so far considering the state of my mind earlier that day. But then everything blew up within a matter of minutes. My dog managed to get outside and we couldn’t get him to come back to the house. We tried everything possible to bribe him back in but no. He knew that we were going somewhere and he was determined to come with us. He didn’t get to go though. Neither of us got to go actually. My husband got very upset because we had been rushing around trying to get out of the door on time but yet now we were very late so he turned around, stormed off into the house, put his pajamas on, and said we aren’t going. So after having some angry words with him I went to bed with my face stained with mascara. I didn’t have the strength to even wash it off because I just didn’t care anymore.
The closer bedtime gets here the bigger than pit in my stomach becomes. I get this sinking feeling at night and it happens every single night around the same time. It’s dark, everybody is settling down, the neighbors have come home and settled into their homes for the night. My dogs are curled up in their spots on the couch, having their pre-bedtime snooze. David’s eyes are getting droopy and at times he becomes irritable. And I know that he will be heading to bed very soon.
But instead of getting tired like the rest of the world, I am becoming more and more alert. My stomach hurts and my chest gets uncomfortably tight. Sometimes I get this ringing sound in my right ear that drives me nuts. And then there’s my throat. It shrinks in size and becomes very constricted. I feel like my airway is about the size of a drinking straw and everything I swallow gets stuck and I have to push it down in a big lump. My feet also get Restless. I feel a burning sensation underneath the skin on the soles of my feet and it makes me feel the need to continuously move them. I rub them against each other and sometimes I tap them.
But by this time everyone is gone to bed and tapping is just a noise that becomes an annoyance to my exhausted husband. So I have begun to learn to sit with my nighttime anxiety and let the effects of it take over my body. By the time that I eventually do get so worn out that I fall asleep I finally realize that it didn’t kill me after all and somehow I made it through another night of this.
And then I wake up in the morning. And realize that I am going to have to do this all over again tonight.