Starting again

"When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time." (Unknown)

"In prosperity our friends know us; in adversity we know our friends." (Unknown)


I have let go of the past. Let go of toxic friends. Let go of trust and belief in people who have shown their true colors. I know who to count on. Not everyone is bad or had bad intentions. They just made the wrong choices or thought they did what was best for everyone. But there's a difference between trying to stay out of the middle of a situation between mutual friends and completely abandoning someone in their time of need. Just as there's a difference in being honest and being verbally abusive. Words do hurt...anyone who says differently hasn't been completely shattered by them. Maybe they haven't been bullied or made fun of. Or maybe they were the ones doing the bullying. It's hard to understand how someone feels unless you're in their place. An innocent comment can bring back bad memories for someone. And if they're already down, it hurts that much more. Who's to judge whether or not those words should hurt them? Who's to judge how they should feel or for how long? Or whether they should forgive the person who said them? Is it someone else's place to make that choice? No, we each make our own choices in our own lives. Because, no one else knows what we've lived through. Everyone has secrets. And the relationship between friends or lovers or family is between them. How do you know the whole story?

I'm moving on now. Past the pain. Past the explanations. Past the past. I feel what I feel, live how I live. Some things I can change, some I can't. Some I won't. But it's no one's place to tell me how to do it. If you don't like how I live my life, stay out of it. If I make too many mistakes, wrong choices, if I destroy my life...it's not your responsibility to fix it or change it. Or criticize it. It's mine to do with as I wish. If you can help and comfort and encourage and fight for me - then I appreciate it. I appreciate all who were there no matter what. The others, who left, or who participated in the negativity, or who just stood by and watched...you made your choices too. And I owe you no part of my life. But that doesn't mean I'll cut you out of it. Do you see? Did you notice? Does it matter? I forgive, I give second chances. But even I have my limits.

Can you think of the worst possible thing that someone could say about you? Would you tell them 'Thank You' if they said it? What about your children? Would you stand by while someone said hateful comments about them, or to them? If they said they shouldn't have been born because you may have passed some "flaws" onto them? Do you have weight issues? Does heart disease, cancer, diabetes, high cholesterol, run in your family? Is it worth it to have kids if you have these damaged genes? Or is it only people with mental/emotional issues who shouldn't have children? Who will never find someone to love them? Because they struggle and overcome and have biological abnormalities that they cannot change or control. I cannot erase my "flaws", my DNA, my chemical imbalance. I was made this way...it was triggered, but it was always there. Do you expect me to change? Does this "truth" help me become a better person? Someone who can be accepted by you, by them, by society? How does beating someone down make them feel better about themselves? How does it make them stronger, how does it propel them forward to reach new heights of success? Or is it just about control...having power over someone? Hate does not help. And let me tell you, nothing I do is going to get me accepted by everyone. I could bleach my skin, change my eye color, wear different clothing, speak differently. It won't change who I am inside. My personality is the problem. Before, it was said I didn't have one...I was too quiet. Now I have a flawed one...I say too much, I have too many issues. I'm too nice, I'm not nice enough. Contradictions. And I am SO TIRED OF IT.

And that is why I'm moving on. Giving to those who are deserving. Giving to those who have been there -- right or wrong, good or bad, happy or sad. We don't have to agree on everything, we don't have to like the same people. But if we're friends, we have to accept each other...even when we don't understand. And you don't turn your back on them just because something better comes along. Someone with a higher status, someone who can give you "more". If they don't satisfy you, don't give you what you want, you move on to someone higher...or you come back to me. I don't do that. I may disagree with someone and not want to speak to them, but I don't shut them out of my life, I don't stop caring. Everyone makes mistakes...we are human, all of us. Fame, talent, beauty...that's nothing. That doesn't give someone the right to say whatever they please or treat someone like trash. And the "fans" fawn all over them and say that it was ok, it was right. No matter how bad. We're all people. We're all human. No one is better than another. And no one is less.

I understand wanting someone's approval. Not wanting to say the wrong thing for fear that they will shut you out, leave you, delete you. But there comes a time when you have to stand up for what is right. When you have to stand up for yourself or for another. Because it's the right thing to do. If the other lets you go for being strong...how much did you matter to them anyway? I can't change this. I've been through it before. I know how it works. I was not surprised, not about that part. But I was disappointed. And we can't go back now. Trust is earned...and I gave it too freely. I believed that when someone said they will always be there, that they meant it. My fault. My mistake. I DO know better. I've been hurt before. And still I have hope. That the goodness I see is real.

And so, I go on. Christmas is coming. And honestly, I just want it to be over. I want the rest of the month to speed through. The 29th doesn't even have to come. But it will. And I will get through it...we all will. I had happiness this week. It helped. Babies, animals...they help me more than anything. My music. I'm fine...still hurting, but I'm ok. I have to keep the negativity out. The words which crumbled me. I know better this time. And this time I wasn't in love. But I did love my friend...as a friend. For me, that's still a lot. And I gave everything...and would have given more. But, time marches on. And maybe time forgets.

I hope the new year will bring new opportunities. I like the writing, but I need money. I will get a better job. I will count on my true friends the way they count on me. I will promote my boys and help the others. I will keep doing things my way, being strong, fighting the fire. Although it helps...

I also hope the new year brings love. Equality. God knows what I need. I have faith. And whatever happens...I will not let anyone defeat me. I know I can be a good mother...I'm working hard to get to that place, but it will take time. I can do this. And my flaws? Well, let's just call them personality traits (thanks, J.F.). And if this is what gives me my creativity, my passion, my love, my empathy...then, maybe they're benefits.

I am a good friend. But no one has to benefit from that either. Choice.

I'm NOT waiting for my prince to come

I'm back to the world of contradictions. Sometimes I think everyone can relate to what I'm saying, other times it seems like no one at all understands. Too much happened the past two weeks...and the past two days. I dropped 3 pounds. Very not good. But I can't eat when I'm stressed...so tired. Heartbroken. Beaten. My self-worth is pretty much at a zero. I feel like everything I believed was a lie. Everything I thought I did right, was actually wrong. I know my flaws. I make no secret of what they are. Maybe I say too much, speak from my heart, get emotional. But that's just who I am. I thought they knew that by now. But that's just another part of what makes me "ugly". Contradictions.

I can't trust very many people. And even those who are trustworthy, have their own opinions about what is right and wrong. And voice those thoughts to others. If you have a problem with ME, tell ME. If I hurt you, let me know so I don't do it again. If I come on too strong or care too much, let me know. Kindly, honestly. I don't need to be beat down, I don't like feeling small. But people already know that. They know my weaknesses, my triggers, my fears. The people I confide in most know so much. And they can use it against me. The image of the pile of print-outs on "his" desk...the emails I sent in confidence, as a friend. Used against me to deny me my raise at work. My attitude, personality, skills. I had no management experience, so of course I failed on that level. But it was a betrayal. That was the first time I felt that coldness inside, that punch in the stomach. It wouldn't be the last. The look of disapproval, the harsh words. And that last phone call...when I was apologizing for putting too much pressure on him, absolving him of all responsibilities. And he destroyed me...just because he could. I was vulnerable and he knew where to strike -- because he knew me better than anyone. He said things that were untrue...but at the time I let myself believe them. I let myself believe that I was crazy and everything that happened was my fault. I destroyed the friendship/relationship because I wasn't good enough as a person. I wasn't normal. There was no friendship. There was nothing. It was as if the past year never happened, never existed.

I got myself past that recently. I moved on. I know I'm not crazy -- he just didn't understand. He was cruel. I didn't fit into his ideal world. And he could never give me what I needed -- love, compassion, support. I know what I need, and I will not settle. But I also know that it will be hard. I have hope, but no expectations. I can make it on my own.

I'm not looking for someone to "fix" me. I fix myself...been doing it for years. Putting on the game face, acting "normal", smiling smiling smiling. People still can't tell. Of course, if they looked close enough and listened hard enough, it would be obvious. I can't hide the pain in my eyes. I can't stop being me.

What do I need in a man? Someone who will listen when I have a hard day...and comfort me. Or listen when I have a happy day...and celebrate with me. Someone who values me and sees my worth...no many how many flaws I have, no matter how much they dislike about me -- they still think I'm wonderful. To them I'm beautiful -- because they see my soul. I don't care about looks, or profession, or education, or height, or weight. Of course I have physical preferences, things that turn me on or make me take notice. But what does it really matter? If I love someone, they're the most beautiful thing in the world to me. I've never dated a model or "hot" guy. Just regular guys...with pretty eyes (by my standards, but then I have a thing for big eyes and long eyelashes). I never thought of myself as beautiful, certainly not gorgeous. But so many people keep telling me I'm pretty...so I'm starting to believe it. That maybe my nose isn't so bad, my freckles and small figure are good things. Or at least acceptable. I know I look good when I dress up, when my hair looks nice, when I have the right make up on. I can see it. But all of the past abuse is there too. Those thoughts and doubts never quite leave. Don't belittle me for having a weakness. For having self-esteem issues. And don't compliment my looks and then tell me looks aren't enough...and that my personality is lacking. I'm confused. I don't know what to believe. I want people to think I'm pretty...but I want someone to adore me as a person.

I was hurt beyond belief. Was it worse than last year, last July? I don't know. I lost someone I considered my best friend then. Yes, that was worse. I didn't know how I could survive that pain. I don't know how I did. It sent me to my knees. Broke me. And so did this. Because I never knew how I looked to him. What he saw when he looked at me, read what I wrote. I never knew. It makes me feel ashamed of myself. That there are so many things, personality traits, feelings, fears, that are considered heinous. To another good friend. I thought I was loved and appreciated. But I was being disapproved of. A tally of all of my faults. Ready to be displayed for all to see. And the biggest kick of all...kids. I'm not fit to be a parent. Who wants to create a child with someone like me? Someone who will not only pass this "disease" to the child, but who will damage the child just by raising it...maybe just by proximity to me. Like I'm Medusa...one look will turn you to stone. Well, not stone, but getting close to me is like poison. I touch you, care about you, and you're infected. The only way to stop it is to beat me with a stick until I fall and then get far away from me. Taking everything with you. The past, the love, the trust, the hope. Everything good goes. Because I'm not good for anyone. But then, why do so many say I am good for them? That I help them? They agree that these issues are so horrible and keeping me from living a normal life, that I'm not progressing fast enough or in the right direction, or that I'll never change, never be good enough. But then say that I'm a good person and we all have our issues. I don't understand.

I can't be what others want me to be. And I'm not what everyone thinks I am. There's so much you don't know. You can't. You don't know my past...even if you know the events, you don't know the feelings. The panic, the fear. You can laugh at me, look at me in disbelief because I get sick to my stomach about a subject you find normal or funny or stupid. You can put me down for not speaking out about something that I don't want to be involved in...or for speaking out in defense of something that offends me. But why are you the judge of what's right and wrong? If I feel a certain way about things or react a certain way -- there's always a reason. Maybe you can't see it or understand it. Maybe it's the stupidest thing you ever heard. But it's mine. Respect me enough to leave it alone. To let me have a difference of opinion. If it's something that bothers me on a soul-shattering level, it's because of an event in the past. Post-traumatic stress disorder maybe. I do flashback, constantly. Certain smells, words, sounds, images bring back traumatic events. Maybe in your mind, in your life they wouldn't be considered traumatic. Or maybe you went through it yourself and it didn't affect you the same...or you got past it. If I haven't, even if I never get over the fear or grief or pain...please don't consider me a failure. I'm not you. I'm not like everyone else. Even if I'm wrong or stubborn or defensive, I'm not evil. I don't deserve to be treated like a criminal. Worse than a criminal, because they get a defense. If I do something wrong, I apologize. God punishes me enough if I don't listen to my intuition. I punish myself daily for thoughts and actions and words...no matter how innocent or helpful. But I believe that I don't deserve to be punished for who I am. I can change things, improve, compromise. But I was created this way for a reason. If God can love me as I am and blesses me with good things, then why am I expected to change? Why can't others look at me and see something worthwhile? The most damaged person in the world still deserves some hope, and help. And I would marry someone who's damaged...because I would do everything in my power to help them. Or just be there for them. I won't turn away, I won't belittle them. They're more worth my time than the "normal" people.

I just needed to clear my head. Look at this from another way. I don't hate anyone. I haven't said all the things I was accused of. I'm not really a bad person. I make mistakes, I say the wrong things or the right things in the wrong way. But I speak from my heart. I don't lie, I don't hold back if something needs to be said. I stand up for those who can't stand on their own. I'll argue to infinity and beat a million dead horses. I'll bring up issues from the past and show how much I'm hurt...to make you hurt. But I don't attack. I don't list people's faults. If I'm mad, it's because of something you did TO me or someone I care about. Not because of who you are. Not because of the little things that annoy me. I don't even think of that stuff in a fight. It's all about emotions and actions and events. Words hurt. They cut and burn and freeze. They destroy relationships and families and lives. Something is gone now. I'll never get that trust back. And I'll always have this memory...popping up to choke me when I'm at a low point. It's forever now. Nothing can stop it.

I apologized. I should have said nothing. But that's not my way, not anymore. I speak my mind. Too much explaining. But they don't know me and it irritated me that they thought they did...that they were going to educate ME? It wasn't about him. None of the last few were about him. Love was in my heart, for my friend. I was worried. I was sad. And yes, I talked about myself because that's how I show that I relate to what's said. I compared myself to her. Because I felt like I was being compared...that the world was being compared. My fault. I should care less. But I don't regret what was said, because I meant it. If I say something, I mean it. I don't pretend. If I'm mad at you, you'll know it. I don't smile and act like your best friend while inside thinking what an idiot you are. That's wrong. And I don't beat anyone down just to see them writhe in pain. To know I have that power over them. I don't want power like that. Anything I create will be from me, to make me better, stronger. I'm ambitious, but I don't use others to achieve my goals. That's pathetic to me. And so weak. If you want something done, do it yourself.

I'm independent. I thought people knew. I'm liberal and believe in freedom of choice...and the strength of women. Although I do have traditional values. But I don't need a man to rescue me or help me or save me from myself. When did I ever say I did? I don't want a knight or a prince -- I stopped believing in fairy tales long ago. Who wants to be rescued like some helpless maiden? I'm not helpless and I won't be seen like that. Maybe I appear weak to others...maybe depression and mood shifts and insecurities are weaknesses, oddities, something vile and disgusting. Yes, I've been told how messed up I am, how strange, how crazy. I'm not though. I know I'm not. There are medical reasons for this and I can track when certain issues started. Why I feel like this when this happens. Triggers, memories. There's always a reason. Do you know my reasons? If you listen you should. Don't judge me and don't try to change me. I don't like advice from people who don't know what this is like...or someone younger than me trying to educate me on the world. I'm not stupid...I even graduated college. I watch, I learn. I know what works for me and what doesn't. There's a lot that I don't know and I will admit that. If you have a helpful suggestion...say it kindly. Send me a link, an article, post my favorite song to cheer me up. Don't throw something in my face that you know will hurt me just to make me live life your way, to make a lifestyle change to become like you. Maybe your way is best, maybe it worked for you. But I'm not a child who needs to be taught. Let me explore at my own pace and do things my way. Don't tell me I need to get out of my comfort zone or go out and do something fun or act differently. There's a reason that I don't do certain things, a reason why I'm unable to go out in public or do something physical. I will no longer push myself until I pass out or double over in pain or shake so badly I scream. I don't need to do "normal" activities just to prove a point to someone. I owe no one anything. This is MY life. I don't tell you how to live yours...don't you see?

This isn't meant for anyone. I just had to say what was on my mind. No one has to read this, or try to understand. No one has to do anything anymore. I'm on my own the way I want to be. I like my privacy, I'm used to this. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to share my world with someone. Just because I don't want to be rescued by a man on a white charger, doesn't mean I wouldn't like to be swept off my feet. And held. Just look at me and hold me. That's all. Just look at me...and love me for who I am.

I'm grateful for my friends -- the TRUE friends. Who stick up for me and check up on me and pray for me. Those who hurt for me as I hurt for them. They got me through this...and so much more. And Blue. They make it better...I've always said that. They are my peace, my joy, my salvation. Anyone can see. But that's enough. I've learned a lot lately. About friendship, expectations, needs, responsibilities. What I think is important and necessary isn't for everyone. What I think is wrong behavior, others find acceptable. I make no apologies for doing what I think is right. For fighting back, for helping those in need, for relying on those I can trust. I may need constant validation...because depression strips your confidence, your self-esteem, makes you a different person. I can't see the love, I can't see anything but pain. So I need the words, the actions -- to remind me. I'm sorry if anyone feels unappreciated. But if I reach out and no one's there, I feel lost and alone. There's nothing I can do about that. And I can't force myself to love myself. There are issues I have to deal with. But it's not true that no one will love me if I don't love myself -- because a lot of people love me and have my whole life. And I haven't always loved myself. So where is that true? That's just another put down. That I have to be a certain type of person for someone to love me. No, love me for who I am NOW. I need it now. Don't wait. Good, bad, happy, sad. At my worst, at my best. Don't try to change me. Don't tell me I'm wasting my life. It's mine to do with as I please. If you can't accept that...why are you here? If you want something else, go after it. Everyone's free. If your life is better without me, go live it. I hold no one to me. My daily choices, while I sit here in my apartment, don't affect you at all. Turn off your computer and walk away. I'll still be doing what I'm doing...but how does it touch you at all? You can't even see me. I've said time and time again that I should stay away from people...but they say no, we need you here. But then they don't like what I do or say...they don't want me around. Not so close...or not so far when they need something. Someone always needs something. Especially when I'm having the worst day. What do you want? Can't I have peace? God, I'm just tired. Done venting, I think. I'll be ok. And I'm going to live my life for me. So when I die, I'll have died free. Not living as someone else. No matter how horrible I am, how weak or pathetic my life, it's mine.

Going nowhere

So it's been about a week and 1/2 since I started on my writing endeavor with Examiner.com. I've written 2 articles, set up a FB page, set up a HootSuite account, Analytics account, changed the links on my social networks, and promoted myself over and over and over. I'm exhausted.

It's fun and good experience and I feel like I'm being productive and moving forward. Hopefully my doc will see it as so when I go in for the follow-up. But I'm not making any money yet (besides a few dollars) and I know UC will be running out soon. Today may be my last time to file. I don't know what I'm going to do. Besides the fact that Christmas is coming up and I still haven't paid all the bills from last month, I don't have a steady income. Basically no income right now. I will freak out very shortly.

There's so much stress in my life right now. And not just with me, but with my friends. That guy needs to leave us alone. Making trouble, harassing us, fake profiles, vile comments. Hateful messages. I'm sorry for my part in it, for not realizing who he was sooner. But it's not my fault. I didn't ask for this. I'm scared for my friend. And I'm worried about my future. I want life to get better, not worse. I need things to get better. The fire still touches me...I'm still at the edge. And I don't care...at those times, I don't care. I could go. And I would be fine with it. I don't care. That's a dangerous state of mind. Hide the knives...

But I have too much hope in me, too much "I never give up". Too much stubbornness and persistence and organization. I work too hard, push too much. But what else is there? It's me. I can't stand still, can't not keep going. Or I'll think and feel and want.

Oh, I want so much. So many things...that have nothing to do with money or possessions or events. Just wants...to fill my heart. To give me peace, pleasure, no pain. Is there a world without pain? I wonder.

I shouldn't feel guilty for hurting bad people...for protecting myself from something potentially harmful or dangerous. And I shouldn't feel like a monster just because I warned other friends about someone who is not a nice person...no matter how many people think so. I'm not obligated to be friends with anyone...or give or do or agree with them. It's so funny, the post about it being ok that we all don't have to agree...that it's ok. That is true and what I believe. But it's funny because of who commented. You can't disagree with them -- that's the whole problem. That's what caused all the drama. But I don't care. Send messages, talk about me, hate me for not doing things your way, for having an opinion of my own. I'm not you. And there's nothing wrong with me. I explained myself and I'm tired of explaining myself. I won't let you bring me down...just because you're mad that you can't get everything you want. I owe you NOTHING.

But I owe Blue my life, my soul, my salvation. People doubt me? I'm as loyal as they come. Others say it's too much. Well, it's not more than anyone else, so why is it ok for them and not me? I'm tired of trying to figure it out. Just stay away from me and I'll stay away from you. You don't matter enough. And what's in my heart is true. Believe it.

I pray for love. And laughter and hope and happiness. Peace for all. And maybe a little bit more. Help me get through this, God. Because I don't know where I'm going. Let it go...

I always wanted to be a writer...

So, I will be writing articles on Social Networking for Examiner.com.

Stay tuned...


And have a great holiday weekend!

Positive Thought of The Day

I've decided to write a post while I'm "up". I can't say I'm happy with my life...I don't know if I'll ever say that because things are always changing. Life is full of ups and downs, bad times and good times, tragedies and triumphs. I've experienced things that I would consider miracles and things that have ripped pieces out of me that can never be repaired. But that's life, right? Only, the dream is to reach happiness...that place where you're content and have everything you want and need and never have to worry again. Happiness is the end goal. Maybe for some it can be. But for me (and most of the world, I think), happiness comes in moments. They could last a year or an hour. But things always change. Even if you are a positive, upbeat person who sees the good in everything -- you still have bad days. You have loss and grief and disappointment. Health issues and heartache. It happens...it can't be avoided. But it's how you perceive these events that determines your reaction to them.

I can say honestly that I do not react well to bad events. I'm a born worrier and tend to automatically think the worst. But I am able to change my thinking and look at things rationally...most of the time. But I have issues that won't let me see things rationally all the time. I'll have to struggle with that the rest of my life. Even if I get to a point where I can function without medication, without therapy, without any sort of "help", I'll still have these internal battles to face. Because I can't change who I am...I can't change the way I was born, my personality, my soul. I can improve though, and make different choices.

So, right now I'm having good days. After the horror of weeks past, I feel relatively stable and upbeat. Hopeful. Looking towards the future...working towards the future. It's hard. Every night the doubts creep in, the regrets. And when I lie in bed, I get the physical pain of depression, from being underweight, and side effects from the meds. My whole body aches and my muscles protest to being still. Trying to relax from stress. But I don't want to talk about the bad things.

I want to be happy. Most days I want to be happy. When I'm low, I don't. But I can pull myself out of it. I'm stronger than I realized, stronger than I seem. I'm so many things...no wonder people have trouble understanding me. I constantly surprise them with my actions, my words, my interests. Because I have so many different sides of me. I can't be one thing. But I am human. In that way we are the same. And I do have support.

I came through the fire and I came out changed. I look the same, I sound the same, I have the same mental and physical health issues. But I'm not the same. Something changed in me. I can't say that it will be a good thing. That I will be a nicer person. I think it will be the opposite of that. Because in that fire, in that place where there was no hope, there was no love either -- for anyone. I did not care about the world, about the people in my life. I was going to leave to save them from me...from the monster. But I didn't care what they thought anymore. I was so tired of protecting everyone and apologizing for just being myself, for speaking out...or staying quiet. Trying to change to fit their needs, their image. Feeling like everything I did was wrong because it wasn't their way. And seeing life going on around me, without me. I was tired. I was fed up. I was upset. Too much, too many triggers. I wanted it to be over.

But it's not. I'm not over. I've just begun. We'll see what it means. No promises. But it's all mine. And I will have...what I'm going to have. What I'm meant and what I can get on my own. More taking and less giving? Or only giving to those deserving. Changes, changes. My future hasn't been written yet. This is a new chapter.

Sorry

"I'm really sick of saying sorry but I will." ~ Overweight (my favorite song by Blue October)

I'm feeling guilty and sad and paranoid. Feeling like I'm doing everything wrong, not saying things the best way. Hurting people. Hurting them with the truth? I guess so...since what I said in my last post was the truth. It's hard for me to be so open, so honest about everything that's inside of me. It's hard for me to let others see it. I'm a very private, reserved person. If you meet me in person, you see that. But online I think I come across as open and aggressive and opinionated. I can be. I can also be defensive and bitter and vindictive. When someone hurts me, I want to hurt them back. Not because I like to hurt people, but because I want them to feel my pain. I want them to understand that it wasn't something minor or trivial, not something I can forget about. I was never taken seriously before. Never accepted for who I truly was. I was always expected to change. Even now...people say I have to get better, I have to get off the meds, I have to do this to be this way or not do this to be that way. It's why I hate criticism and advice. I can't ever live up to it. But some suggestions are helpful and I really appreciate the effort. It's all in the approach though. If you come to me and start the sentence with "You need to do..." or "Stop doing/acting like..." -- it's going to put my back up and turn me off automatically. Then I get defensive. And if more than one person says it (or someone else agrees with the first person) I feel attacked. Paranoia, I guess. But you have to understand, not everyone reacts to words or actions or events the same way. For some people you have to be gentle and listen to their needs. For others you have to state your case and say what needs to be done. I learned that as a supervisor at my last job. But either way, there's no reason to be disrespectful or cruel. No reason to belittle someone or put them down for their personality or choices or beliefs. No reason to make someone feel inferior if if they do something differently than you...it doesn't make their way wrong. Especially when you know they're already vulnerable. Kicking someone when they're down is the most damaging thing you can do. It destroys their trust, their self-esteem, their confidence. And it reinforces that those depressed or self-destructive thoughts are accurate. If the people who say they love you are telling you all the things you're doing wrong, listing your faults...then it must be true. If everyone tells you that being shy/quiet is not normal and you need to grow out of it...or that you have a big nose and should get plastic surgery...or that you're not worth the effort to get to know...or that you're odd because you're in your late 20's and haven't had a baby yet (or in your 30's and not married yet)...or that if you change your thoughts and start "acting right" then the depression will go away -- well, it must be true. If so many different people have said it, over so many years...it must mean something. Even if you know you're better than that, even if you can see that they're trying to hurt you or help you or just don't know how to understand you...eventually you start to wonder. You have doubts. Especially if you're a worrier and have low self-esteem to begin with.

I'm going on and on and getting off the subject. My mind is wandering. Xanax kicking in. I was feeling so sick with guilt and worry, shaking with it, in pain. Depression really does hurt physically. I wish people could accept this. Just because you can't see it with your eyes or it's not a physical disease, doesn't mean that it's not just as serious. It's a terminal illness for some. At the very least, it's a life-long ailment. I know that no matter how much "better" I get, I'll still have moments of self-doubt. Those hateful thoughs, worries, anxiety. But I'm learning to control it, learning what triggers it. Understanding myself, visiting the past to see where it originated has helped. My friends with similar issues have helped. My family has helped. Many people have helped in many ways. So many unexpected gifts. I have a lot of support. And I do appreciate it.

Which is why I wrote this. I am truly sorry if I offended or hurt anyone with my last blog post. I was angry and hurt and needed to get it out. I won't censor myself...although I don't tell every detail. I'm subtle sometimes...but if you read between the lines, you can figure out what I didn't say. I worry that my family will read it and worry. I worry that my friends will think I'm mad at them or think I think they don't care about me. I know they care, I know some love me. But if I can't hear it or see it...I don't know that's it's there, that they're there. And I love them. It's hard for me to say it. That shy, self-conscious part of me again. But I do show it...I do let them know I'm there somehow. At least I try to. I'm just not good with words...but in writing I am. I guess. I don't know, I'm confused. I still think my words come out wrong sometimes. But at least when I write I have the confidence to say what I'm thinking, what I feel. Because no one's looking at me while I do it. I can post it and walk away. But then I regret what I said...because it's coming from inside me and makes me feel vulnerable. But I need to get it out. And I need other people to read it. I need people to know now. I hid for so long. I need to not hide anymore.

But at the same time I want to protect everyone. I want to help and give them what they need. It's hard and takes a lot out of me, but it's who I am and what I need to do. I like when people come to me and think I can help or know something they don't know. I like being popular...being wanted. It's different for me -- having this much social interaction with so many people. Which is why it's overwhelming at times. I try. I try so hard to do so much and please everyone. I can't. And I know that I shouldn't. Some people will hate me for being so nice, so "good", so ambitious and knowledgeable. I don't understand why anyone would be jealous of the things I know or do...because they can do it too. But I understand that other people don't have that drive. Some people don't have the same values I do or believe that the things that are important (and necessary) to me are even worth thinking about or doing. I'm learning about human nature. It's very disappointing at times. Because I know that things could be so much better. I can be better -- that's why I keep improving, keep trying. If one way doesn't work, try another way. I don't give up. I'm very loyal and I hold on tightly to things that matter. I run towards rather than away. I face my fears because I don't want them to control me. I don't want anything or anyone to control me. Because I had no control before. There are reasons for everything I do, everything I think. Even if I don't know what they all are yet. Please have patience with me. Please give me another chance...

I'm sorry for all those that I hurt -- past, present, future. I'm not perfect...not even close. I have my bad side, bad habits, bad thoughts. But I have a good heart -- I feel that in myself the way I feel it in others. I go by my feelings, my intuition to guide me. I'm trying, I'm doing, I'm achieving. I make mistakes, I do things wrong. I punish myself for it...so there's no need for anyone else to do so, ok? But I want to help you. I want to help you. I want to make things better. I don't know how. I just...want things to be better.

Where am I now?

A few days ago I was thinking "Who am I?". I guess I figured that part out. It's been a rough week. I was at a very very low point this past weekend. I don't know if I can say it's the lowest I've ever been...but I can say that the thoughts and plans I had were the most self-destructive and suicidal that I have ever had. I was as close to the edge as I could get without jumping off. Why didn't I? Because I had doubts. I couldn't figure out a definite plan, I wasn't ready. I still don't want to hurt my family that way...or leave my hamster alone to die. But I thought of ways around all that. Well, not the destroying my family part...that would require me to be so far gone that I didn't care anymore...that I didn't feel. I was very numb, very uncaring about others. I had to be...it hurt too much otherwise. I told myself I wasn't needed...that people's lives would go on without me. That even what I do provide, they can find somewhere else. They already have it, so what's the point of me giving it? I'm very tired of giving my all and getting pieces in return. There's just so much going on, so many triggers this time of year. It's bad. And I won't pretend anymore. I can't protect everyone anymore.

I hate to worry people. I hate to have to put it in their faces to make them see how real, how serious this is. No one wanted to see before. And even now...people turned away instead of reaching out. It hurt and disappointed me. I thought I was closer to some people than that. I'm told "You can count on me, I'll always be there for you, all you have to do is ask...". But I was right there -- my post was there for all to see. Was I supposed to call up everyone until I found someone to answer while I was lying in bed in pain? Was it my responsibility to reach out to them when I was the one in need? It was obvious that I was hurting and in a very bad place -- because one friend did text me and ask if I was ok. She said she noticed I hadn't been around. Others saw...they said they did, later. But they stayed silent. Until I somehow pulled myself together, found the strength to keep going, pulled hope out of nothingness -- and called the doctor to increase my meds. I did it -- I did it myself. And then all the messages and comments came in...everyone was so supportive and caring then. Very easy to find something to say when I'm doing better? I fixed it myself. I always do. I appreciate the love...but what if I hadn't made it through the weekend? Would you have said the words at my funeral?

I know people care about me. I know they try to understand. But there are limits and conditions. That's what I can't accept. That's what disappoints me. The words, but no action. Excuses, explanations. The fact that there were hundreds of people who saw my distress and did NOTHING to stop it. Not a word -- no "hope you feel better" or "how are you". Is that so difficult? It's not -- because I do it for others. All the encouragement and prayers. All the times I answered messages when people needed me...but I was depressed myself. Times when I was crying but I got up and helped them. All the questions...don't I always answer the questions? Don't I always comment back? I was THERE. Where are my prayers, my help from those same people? Not there. They turn away. And not just from me, but from their other friends too. It's why I'm so adamant about speaking up and showing people that I am there...that they are not alone. I see so much. And I remember it all. I'm sorry...it just wasn't good enough this time. I can't just brush it aside and say, "oh well, better late than never." Because it almost was too late. Tomorrow doesn't always come.

But something good came out of this. I know who I can count on. I know how people see me and what to expect. I know that I have the strength in me to survive. My biggest fear (depression-wise) is that I'll lose control and end up in the hospital. I wasn't afraid of that a few days ago...I considered calling for someone to take me. I thought I'd need to, that it would be best. But I was able to get past it. I'm glad, because I don't know if I would survive being in the mental hospital. I don't think that I'd be taken care of the way I need to be. I can't trust anyone to take care of me. I trust no one but myself with my life. Funny isn't it...when I'm the one who values it the least?

I know I'm better than this. I know I'm the good and the bad that others see -- and say. Words do hurt, you know. The bad is amplified to extremes in myself -- I'm so insecure and self-hating. But I don't want to feel like that. I don't want to worry until I make myself physically sick or starve myself to suffer. I don't want to have anxiety that makes me feel out of control or the fear that I'll hurt myself. Or this anger that makes me want to hurt someone else. I held it all inside for so long, no one looked close enough to see...and those that caught a glimpse got a smile in return. I don't want to pretend anymore. Maybe I say too much...I don't know how not to be honest. I'm a good person, I love very deeply. But there's something very bad inside of me too...and it wants out. It's been in there since I was a kid...but I could ignore it then. Now I can't. That's the thing that I want to kill -- not myself. I don't want to die...I'm scared of it. I can't handle it when others die...feels like everyone is disappearing. Major abandonment issues. Major issues, period. I have a lot to overcome and a lot to improve. I'm still trying to figure out how.

I lost hope last weekend. But I found it again. Maybe I can find the rest of the answers too. I'm still here.

Coming Down

It's very hard for me to be happy. I feel like I don't deserve it. Or if I'm happy and let down my guard, something bad will happen. It has in the past. But bad things happen whether I'm happy or sad. Things just happen...and we can't control them. I hate not having control.

The problem with being happy when you have depression, is that when you're up that high, you have a long way to fall. For me it's usually not gradual, it's sudden. Devastating. A complete change of mood. Maybe because I'm so emotional, so in tune with everything inside me and around me. I feel so much. I have learned to shut it off, distance myself so that the outside emotions don't touch me...so I don't absorb them and become them. But it's very hard to separate myself from reality when I get bad news about a family member or friend. Pretty much impossible. Somehow I deal. I really don't know how.

Last weekend was one of the best times of my life. I did a lot of things I never experienced before. Traveled across the country by myself. I was very scared. But I did it. And now I know that I can do anything. What seemed hard before seems minor now. Now that I did the most frightening and stressful thing of my life. It wasn't just the flight or the planning or the new surroundings. Or even talking to people I don't know well and being in social situations (which I'm not good at). It was fear that I wouldn't be able to handle it mentally or physically because of my depression/anxiety and low weight. If the newest meds hadn't worked so well, I wouldn't have been able to go. If I hadn't gotten my weight up a few pounds, I never would have been able to walk around and enjoy the scenery. I would have passed out or broken down. I wouldn't have been stable or strong enough. But everything worked out. God gave me so many gifts. Everything I asked for and more. It makes me want to cry when I think of how wonderful it was...great friends, an amazing concert, so much fun. So MUCH.

But now I'm back to reality, back to my old life. I'm not the same as I was, my life isn't really the same. I accomplished something major. I faced multiple fears. I accepted what came, I gave to others...and got a lot in return. But it's been a week. And although the memories are still fresh, although my heart is still full, I'm not happy. I'm beginning the descent...back to my baseline, I suppose. But it's a downfall and feels like I'm becoming depressed. Coming down from happy feels like that. Even when I have high anxiety (which is NOT happy), Xanax brings me down and feels slightly depressing. I'm not depressed though, and hope I don't go down that far. I'm having "Blue withdrawals"...but that's to be expected. I'm so satisfied with the show and meeting the guys afterward. All of my pics. I'm so happy with that. And I still have my group page, new members. It makes me happy that people like my website, appreciate how hard I work to keep it updated. It gives me a purpose, makes me feel needed. My friends make me feel needed and wanted. Never have I felt that so much as when I was in Utah. Even before...they wanted me to come so badly. I love them for it, for everything. I'm so insecure and my confidence is low...but I felt pretty and wanted and needed and like a real person. I'll never be the fun party girl...but they like me for who I am. I don't know why...but they do.

So we'll see what happens now. Job searching again. Figuring out my life...again. Love? Only if it's mutual. Equal. Think I'm finally moving on. Finally accepting the truth. And...maybe I can be better, somehow.

Lost

Feeling very lost today. Very alone and helpless. I know I have lots of support, a lot of people who can relate to what I'm going through and understand me. But I'm single, I'm the only one who handles my responsibilities, the only one who makes the daily decisions in my life. I can turn to people for advice, but they can't do anything. They have their own lives, their own families. My parents help a lot...financially lately. But they can't take away the worries, they can't stop the bill collectors from calling...and now a law firm has left a message. I'm only about 6 months behind in my credit card payments and I send money when I can. But I can't pay the full monthly payment, so they say it's not good enough. I've been on payment plans that I can't afford, I've had them deferred. That runs out and I'm more in debt than when I started. It's not worth it. But I'm tired of the fear. I'm not someone who runs away, not someone who ignores what must be done. But I have. I'm turning into what I once looked down on. This isn't me. But what can I do? Call a credit counseling place? Did that before, when things weren't so bad...and they treated me horribly. All I wanted was information on how it works, the options outlined for me. But they tried to pressure me into making a decision, signing up with their company over the phone immediately. There was no counseling involved in that process, no talking over the options, no asking whether working an extra shift would help, or could I get a loan from someone. There were 2 choices, both of which would affect my credit negatively...and I still had time to fix it positively. But they didn't care, it was this way or that way and if you don't do it, you're "not serious about getting help". I don't jump into anything without research, without being sure. I kept saying that...and they wouldn't let it go. I told him that I'm not trying to be rude, but I'm not interested and I'm going to hang up now. He called back and left a nasty message on my answering machine. It made me feel harassed. I sent an email to his superior...don't know what came about it, but they stopped emailing and calling. But you can see why I hesitate to go that route.

But now things are worse. I have no credit. The good saver who always paid her bills on time has become someone who can barely make rent, who has no money for food, who is too sick (mentally and physically) to handle a job...or just getting out of bed at times. I moved here to save myself...so that I wouldn't kill myself. I moved here because of the racial diversity, the beauty of this area. Because I felt safe and comfortable. But I can't afford it...and so I'm in debt. But if I go back to what was...I won't survive. The anxiety beats me down, I feel strangled as soon as I step foot in that city. I hate to look at it. I only visit because my family lives there. And to be honest, the only reason I don't hurt myself is because I wouldn't want them to find me that way. My aunt's death devastated us all...and that was from a blood clot. If I take my life or do something self-destructive...it'll kill them. I won't do that. I'm the one who's supposed to sacrifice for them, supposed to hold all of the pain, to take away their suffering. I would give up my life for my friends and family...if it would save them. I would go away forever...if it would make their lives better. I leave "him" alone, so as not to burden him with my craziness. So he can be happy. I just wish I could make people happy instead of ruining their lives. I try to be good, I give, I care, I help. I love so deeply there's barely room for it all. I love those who turn away from me, who hate me for what I am. Because...because I can't help it. It's me.

I'm in a bad place. I have ups and downs. Good days. But I'm so far behind. Falling so far. I want to go away. I will be going away...taking a break from "this life" and seeing what's out there on the other side of the country. I feel guilty and scared and excited. It's wrong to ignore the problems and go somewhere that will make me feel better. But I need to. I need my friends...and they need me. I need my Blue. Whether they can see me or not. I wish...I wish he cared and would be happy this time. But the music sustains me. Saves me. I mean that literally. When I'm on the edge, when the dark thoughts are drowning me...they pull me back. They keep me here. I thank them for that. Never can I give what they give to me. I try to show my love in my group. Everyone knows how I feel. I wish people understood that it's a good thing to feel this way, to be this devoted. Some do. Maybe it's jealousy that I came out of nowhere and got this far, made this much for them. I do it out of love...not charity, not craziness. I'm not a crazy psycho fan. I'm just a girl who loves music. And appreciates good people. I would never hurt them. I protect them. No one knows the whole story. No one knows what's inside.

I feel better now. Because my friends on Twitter responded to my cry. They help. Everyone helps. No matter what happens, no matter what I say or do, please know that I'm grateful for every single one of you. All those on Facebook who changed my life -- who gave me life. This new place, where I can be me. All the gifts, the kind words, the messages, the talks. The smiles. I love you all. I'll try not to disappoint you. But I can't promise. I'll keep trying, long as I'm able. I'll keep going.

I'm looking forward to a good thing. Please God, don't take it from me. Please answer my prayers. I have to pray for me this time. Save them all...as always. But save me too.

Away

I want to go away.
Where the losses won't touch me.
Where the air lets me breathe.
Where the wounds heal.
Where I only feel...peace.

Is there a place?
Where I can be free?
Where I can be me?
And be loved...and hugged.
And held when I cry.
Where no one will hurt.
Where we all fit.

I want to be there.
Now.

As We Go Along

I haven't written in a while...not because I haven't had a need to, but because I couldn't find the words. My life has been full of ups and downs. I'm moody and overemotional by nature. I worry too much and I'm a light sleeper. That's just me. But the extremes -- the major depressive episodes or anxiety or panic attacks or mental/physical breakdowns are not the real me. Although they are a part of me. Since starting the new meds a month ago, I have been more balanced. Not depressed and less anxious. I feel like I have control -- that's the important thing to me. But I've had my sad moments and let the worries take over. I can't stop it from happening, but I can fight against it. With meds, with thoughts, with time. I keep trying.

I read something today that upset me. It talked about changing negative thinking to positive thinking, which is a good thing and something I'm working on. But it also said that one reason to change yourself is because negative people are a "drag" to be around and no one wants you in their lives. They will avoid you and cut you out. I've experienced this in the past...and probably will again. It hurts SO much. To know that people think that of you. That the reason they don't like you is because of how you're made inside, not what you've done. You're not a bad person, you're just not quite good enough. That the only solution is to change who you are. Yeah, I can understand why no one wants to read the same complaints over and over or gets tired of hearing that every day is a bad day for someone. But if you care about that person, none of that should matter. You support them through the good AND the bad...no matter how bad. Especially if you know that they're not just complaining or being dramatic for attention. If you know that they have an illness or are going through a low period in their lives. You know the circumstances and you can relate. So, if you know all of this...why turn your back? Why criticize? Why hurt and make them feel ashamed? Why choose to keep certain friends and not others? Why? But they do. Because they don't want to see it or don't want to accept it or they feel that you're not worth the extra effort. You won't do it their way, so there's no way. I know this. And I still hold on to those people who have already let me go. I'm working on that too. Because, as they don't need a person like me in their lives, I don't need a person like them in mine. I'm not obligated to be the good girl all the time, the agreeable one, the forgiver. I'm walking away now...and those who love me are already by my side, walking with me. I'm not alone. And I'm grateful for that.

And let it be said -- no one brings me down. I pick people up when I can, encourage them. But either way, I always listen, I always support -- no matter how bad. Because everyone needs a friend. Everyone deserves love and respect. And we all deserve to speak for ourselves -- whether positive or negative. If you keep all of the negativity inside, it eats at you, destroys you. I let it happen to me. And I'm not anymore. So it comes out. No one has to read it. I'm not forcing anyone. I don't put my problems in anyone's face...they stay on my page, on my blog. It's their choice whether to let it in or not. I'm no longer taking responsibility for anyone else's reactions or emotions. No longer protecting everyone from my "ugly side". I have to live my own life, my way. And be free.

So where am I today? Still trying to figure out where to go from here. How to get to the place where I want to be. The ME I want to be. It's a long journey, with a lot of pitfalls ahead. I will fall. I will fail. But, I know how to pick myself up and try again. Each time I succeed I go to the next level. Each time I push myself past my limit, there's always a little more beyond it. I keep going. And I intend to be happy. Maybe only for a day or a week or a month. But I will be happy. It's not the end result for me anymore...it's the journey now.

Discovering Me

I saw this illustration the other day and realized that I am this bear. A lot of my friends are bipolar, and although I can relate to most of what they're going through, I don't KNOW personally. I only have the depressive side, not the manic side. I'm either on the horizon line or below it. I have happy days, of course. Happy moments. But I don't have that joyous high that some describe. That feeling of invincibility, the racing thoughts, the rapid speech and mannerisms. I have anxiety, which makes me feel like my thoughts are racing, my heart is beating fast, and I want to run around in circles. Or beat my head against the wall. But there's nothing pleasurable about it. It's not depression, but it's scary and emotionally painful. I'm more impulsive when I'm in that state and I'm afraid of what I'll do. I hate the loss of control that anxiety brings me. And that question: What's wrong with me? Why is this happening? Little things trigger it, such as stress or worry or frustration, but sometimes it seems to come out of nowhere. I can't always predict when it will happen. And for the past couple months, I couldn't control it without my medication. My "PRN", as needed pill, Xanax. I hate to rely on anything and I hate to be unable to control my life in any way. I'm fiercely independent. I can't stop the thoughts from coming, the panic, the irritation, but in the past I could calm myself with some deep breaths and by rearranging my thinking. Seeing the positive things, having hope that the next hour, the next day will be better. Just putting the situation into perspective and realizing it's not the end of the world. I could do it before, but then after April, I could no longer. More death. Always seems to steal me away from sanity.

I'm on different antidepressants now and my baseline is much higher, so I feel more stable and upbeat and I'm able to pull myself up when I have those moments of weakness. I will fall again, I will be depressed again. It's inevitable. That's why I'm the "uni-polar bear" and not the "bi-polar bear" -- because no matter how happy I am, no matter how "up"...if something bad happens, down I go. Always. The difference is that when my moods are balanced, I don't stay down very long and I'm able to put the worries aside to concentrate on what needs to be done. I can function in society and no one would know what's inside. Except that I don't hide it now, I speak about it. I need to. It helps -- not just me, but others like me. We're all different, we all have our struggles and traumas. Different backgrounds and childhoods. Different relationships and events that shaped us into who we are. But the common factor is that we all feel, we all have pain, and for those of us with these illnesses...we have no control over how our brain functions. I know there are other techniques and treatments that can help manipulate those signals...I'm still learning about them. I've learned a lot through others and my own research. And just by getting to know myself better. Realizing why I react a certain way or behave a certain way in a situation. Looking back on the past to see where the dark thoughts started, where the anxious feelings came from. And looking inside myself to know why it keeps happening. Bad habits, self-esteem issues, uncontrollable emotions. It's all a part of me and some things can't be changed. Others can. And the rest can be improved upon. Because I really want to be better. Maybe I can never be "normal" or mentally healthy, but I know I can be better than this. I'm still searching for ME.

A Better Me

I want to be a better person. Someone who knows what they're doing in life. And knows how to control themselves. Someone who doesn't say too much or too little. Someone who is kind and loving, but doesn't love the wrong people too much. Doesn't give so much. Doesn't need so much. Someone who can be happy and feel peace for more than a minute.

I want to be better. I want this anxiety to go away. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I don't want to hurt myself anymore. I want to eat and live and play and work and have fun. I don't want to live here alone. Alone with the memories, the ghosts haunting me. They don't go away. I can't bury them, I can't un-know them. I can't make the memories fade. Or the pain, or the hurt. Or the joy that doesn't exist anymore. I can't make someone love me if they don't. Or admit their feelings if they do. I can't make the world better. I can't stop him from crying, stop her from feeling pain. I can't bring the dead back. And I can't make the living live more. I can't change anyone. I can only change myself. But I always seem to go right back to where I was. Not a happy place. In the background. In the foreground...but I'm still invisible.

Why do I always feel left out? Not good enough? That I don't belong? I'm not like everyone else....I'm not like anyone else. We say that we're all unique, but that's not true. So many people are similar. And follow the crowd. Hate because their friends hate. Or their family. Stick up for someone who's wrong, instead of the person who's right. Loyalty? What about compassion? Understanding? I don't understand people. But I know more than I did. And it's not good things.

I have trust issues. And abandonment issues. And fears. I overcome them...or just live with them. I can't change who I am. I can't stop this. I can't be a different person. The person who others see? It's not me. People are always disappointed when they get to know me. I'm not what they expect. They look at me and see? What? They talk to me and they should know. But they don't. Dates are never successful. I'm always too quiet. Well...I've changed some. Speak out more...very opinionated. Maybe defensive. And very much lacking in patience. But still, I'm me. Always will be. I can't become whatever it is that I'm supposed to be. And I'm sorry. I have a destiny and I'm failing. I can do better...but I don't want to. I just don't know how or I'm unable physically or falling apart mentally. And I know I can do better. But I don't. Can't. Won't. Maybe better doesn't exist. Maybe this is all there is. I hate it. And I pray.

Acceptance

For more years than I can remember, I asked, "What's wrong with me?" There was never an answer. I always felt different from everyone else around me in some way. When I was a kid I wondered what I did to be punished this way...because that's what life felt like to me -- a punishment. I felt unloved and unwanted, even though my parents told me they loved me every day. The kids at school liked me even though I was too shy to talk to them. But I was strange because of my differences. I lacked confidence and self-esteem and I spent most of my time by myself. I had mood swings and depressed periods and felt like there was nowhere that I belonged...even my own home. And I always knew that I would leave that city. It wasn't my place.

As I got older, I still wondered what was wrong with me, but I knew that it was just the way I was made, the way I was born. I did nothing wrong as a child...I just saw the world a different way than others. I knew things and felt things and saw things that others didn't. Or didn't admit to. People really aren't as open-minded as they like to believe. Because when you talk about something different, something unusual or uncommon or supernatural....they pull away. Give you that look like you're crazy. I've been called crazy a lot. Among other things.

The problem is that I started to believe the things people said about me. I didn't realize it was happening and it took all these years to develop. Of course, some of the emotional abuse was caused by myself. I'm harder on myself than anyone else. And I know that no one will ever hate me as much as I hate myself. But I could always see the good in me too. The beauty, the talent, the intelligence. Even when people put me down, I knew that I wasn't as bad as that. I knew there was better in me. It's just hard to see past all the flaws. I see ALL of my flaws every time I look in the mirror. And not just the external ones.

It's hard for me to forgive myself my mistakes. It's hard for me to move on and let things go. I dwell on issues, over-worry, overreact. I've tried to change myself so many times over the years. To fit in, to be heard, to be normal. But I'm not, I can't. I am who I am. All I can do is improve. Be a better me, someone that I can be proud of. And I am proud of myself -- for having the strength to speak out, for pulling myself up when I fall, for still living after all the pain, for working hard, for helping others. I've done good things. And I can do more.

I'm slowly learning to accept myself. The good, the bad, the ugly. I have for the most part. But right now I have to learn to accept this mental illness, this "thing" that consumes me day after day. I fight it, I deny it, I reject it, I'm resigned to it. It's a part of me, no matter what I do. I can't make it go away. I can't make the thoughts and emotions stop. I can't make the depression and anxiety not exist. That's what I tried to do for so long. As a teenager I "made myself better" and pretended that everything was ok. It was all I could do then. I had no help, no resources. And no one accepted this as reasonable behavior. So I had to become "normal" to protect them from the real me. So they would never see what was behind the smile.

There were reasons that I didn't get help as an adult, even when I was first diagnosed years ago. I didn't think medication would work for me and I was leery of psychiatric help. Which I still am to some extent. But the pain was too great and I could no longer "make myself better", so something had to be done. I was honest with my new doctor and she started me on antidepressants, and eventually anxiety meds and sleeping pills. It was supposed to be temporary, just to get through the worst of it. Then I was supposed to learn how to cope on my own...through techniques and therapy. Well, it's been 2 1/2 years now and I'm nowhere close to being ready to go off of the medication. It does work and the newest ones are making me feel more clearheaded and motivated and upbeat. But it's still a daily struggle. I still have the anxiety, the dark thoughts, the worries. The nights are hard again. And with the improved mood comes the guilt and regrets -- for the things that I have not done and are supposed to be doing. All of the things I let go while I was depressed and unmotivated and weak. I'm still underweight and cannot leave the house everyday because I don't have the physical strength. There's so much that I want to do and I'm not able to do it. And that's frustrating. I feel useless and worthless and lazy. But I know in reality I'm just sick.

And so, that's what I have to accept. I have some answers to "What's wrong with me?", and the new question, "Why is this happening?". I know that I have major depression due to a chemical imbalance. I know that I have anxiety that comes out of nowhere sometimes...seeming without cause. I know that I'll always have suicidal thoughts, even though I plan to never act on them. I know that I self-harm by emotionally abusing myself and starving myself...and sometimes hitting myself. Denying pleasure and good health because I feel that I don't deserve it -- usually because someone I love is suffering. I know that I'll always be haunted by the past, that the memories won't go away. I know that the pain that I feel...the bumps, the bruises, the breaks, are a part of me. Some scars never heal. Some wounds never close. And I know there will be more pain in the future -- more death, more grief, more loss. But also joy. Happiness? It's hard for me to let myself be happy because when you're up that high, it's a long fall to the ground. And I will fall again. I have to accept that too. I'll never be cured, my life will never be perfect. There are ups and downs. We all go through them. Some people pretend that they don't have bad times, that anyone who talks about anything negative is just bringing everyone around them down. Well, the reality is, that humans feel emotions when something bad happens. You can ignore it and deny it, but it's still there. Some of us just feel comfortable speaking it and admitting it. And then we get past it. That's strength.

People with mental illnesses are viewed as weak. Unstable, crazy, weird, flawed. But I think we're the strongest of them all. Because we know what it means to hit the bottom, to be so close to the edge of life and death...and make that choice to keep going. Pick ourselves up and get on our feet. We overcome the obstacles...and then excel. We defeat our demons...no matter how many times they attack. And when the monster is inside of you, that's the hardest fight of all. But we do it. Day after day. It was never as hard for me as it is now. A lot has changed...I have changed. Events have changed me, shaped me. I can't say I'm grateful, because I don't like the person I am now. That's why I don't believe that everything happens for a reason...some things just happen. They just happen and you can let them destroy you or you can move on. Keep moving forward.

So I've taken the first steps. I got help, I keep fighting through the ups and downs, do research to understand this condition better, talk to people with similar issues, accept that this is who I am now. Accept that there IS something wrong with me. That I'm sick. That I need medication to feel better, to function. But I know that I can deal with it. And maybe I can beat it. I'm stubborn enough to try.

Writing...

I saw this quote on a friend's post on Twitter this morning:‎

"The purpose of writing is discovery. You do not know what you yourself think until you put it into words."

It's very true. When I write I can express myself like no other way; I can say all of the words in my head that don't come out right when I speak. I can phrase things the way I want and create my own personal form of poetry. The words flow from my soul and I can figure out what's going on inside of me. I've been letting myself write freely, letting the words come as they may, with no rhyme or reason, no editing, no planning. It helps to release this way and get the negativity out of my system. I've been finding out a lot about myself -- some good, some bad. But I know myself better now.

I still keep journals, which are private and only seen by me, but for the past year I've been making some of my writing public because it's more therapeutic. Writing in a journal still feels like keeping my thoughts to myself and holding the emotions inside. Which eats away at me and causes emotional damage. But there are some things that I don't trust others to know...or I don't feel comfortable sharing. But I've come a long way and have some good friends and family members with whom I talk to regularly. That's my form of therapy.

I know that eventually I will need professional therapy. I just don't feel ready yet. I have a lot of other steps to take in my healing and I have enough new things to deal with. So many changes. The newest meds seem to be working well and my head is much clearer and I feel more motivated. I still have a lot to overcome though. A lot to figure out. I have to let myself take the time and go slowly. That's the hardest part.

My Thoughts

I guess some of you noticed that I deleted my blog post from yesterday. I don't like to censor myself and I believe that everyone has a right to vent and release their pain through writing. I did release and I believe in everything I said. But I didn't feel right leaving it up there...partly because I'm feeling low and don't have the confidence to stand behind my opinions. And partly because I didn't want anyone to take my statements the wrong way and get offended or hurt. I made general statements about "friends" based on situations that I've been involved in or have witnessed that were bothering me at the time. Mostly dealing with life comparisons and feeling inferior because others seemed to imply that their experiences or emotions or pain or grief were worse than mine. Maybe not directly, and no one has said anything recently to hurt me that way, but the words are out there.

I know that some people have it worse than me...and others have it better. I've gotten both comparisons -- that my problems are minor because this horrific thing happened to them. Or that I'll never have what they have (happiness, a family, a good job, etc) unless I get over my issues or move on and act differently. Be better...be like them. I'm not them. I'm not anyone but me.

I just don't feel that anyone has the right to judge someone else and determine how they should feel or act or react to situations. Because everyone is different, everyone copes in different ways. The most traumatic event for me may not have shattered another. I'm on medications as a result of my aunt's death...that was the trigger that "unbalanced" my brain and made my occasional depression explode into thoughts darker than any I could imagine. I never though I'd be where I am now...uncontrollable anxiety, thoughts of self-harm. So many different meds. Makes my years of emotional self-abuse look like a children's game. It's a struggle every day. But others in my family found better ways to cope. They're living their lives. And they weren't any less grief-stricken than me. Some, like my grandparents who lost their youngest daughter, or my mother and aunt and uncles, who lost their sister, were more broken. Are still broken. They will never heal...I don't think any of us will. But can someone on the outside say that that event is less important, less painful than their event? It's all relative and one person's pain will always be major to that person. Maybe I'm weak and that's why I can't cope. Or maybe I feel so deeply that I took this pain to a higher level...a pain reserved for a different kind of death. I don't know.

This is my battle, my struggle. I'm fighting to stay alive. I'm fighting to be able to function in society and handle all of my responsibilities. Which I do. So maybe I'm stronger than I think. I'm just trying to find my place. And be the best person I can be. And as I said yesterday -- this is for me.

Beautiful

Why are you so beautiful to me?
How can I see your glow?
It's not a vision meant for me
It's not something I should know

But when the sunlight hits your face,
And my heart picks up its tempo
How can I deny that you are special
Worth more than just a memento?

There's power in your smile
And kindness in your heart
But there's a toughness deep inside
And still, that's only part

I don't know all of you
I suppose I never will
My time may be limited
But I'm taking all that I can steal

If I get my way, you'll never know of this
For I only want your happiness and a life of eternal bliss
And all of that is not with me, that's something I surely know
But you reach out to me and all I can do is let you go



For my friend
8/9/10 ~ NM

The pain is so deep...

I haven't felt like writing. Haven't had a need to, I guess. I do it to release what's inside, get the thoughts out of my head. I always have a lot of thoughts, dreams, plans. When they overwhelm me, that's when I need to let them out. Instead of holding them in like I did for the first 30 years of my life...

It's been a tough couple weeks. Tougher than usual, I mean. I've been struggling so much lately, but I've had so many hits in the past 2 weeks. So many losses, surprises...and not the good kind. I can't control life, can't control what others do or even what happens to me. I can control my reaction to it...and I admit, my reactions are not good. But I persevere. I get back up whenever I fall. Always...so far. I worry about the day when I'll be so far gone that I won't be able to get back up. When I won't keep trying, keep hoping. Sometimes I want that to happen...that loss of control, that lack of self. Just so I can rest. It's hard to keep fighting. Day after day, the same battle. I thought I'd be past this by now, I thought I'd be over it. Done with the meds, moving on to a better life. I'm not. I'm still here and it just gets harder. More people, more things to worry about. And I keep falling.

I can only give so much. I forget about that. Or maybe I'm just too stubborn to acknowledge it. I give my all, put my whole heart and soul into everything I do. That's who I am, I can't be any less. I expect that from others -- that same gift back. I don't always get it. Sometimes it's looked at with puzzlement, sometimes it's rejected, sometimes it's returned. Or exchanged for something else, something less valuable. I have to stop caring so much. Stop working so hard for everyone else. I'm completely burnt out. I can't give to everyone...can't give to anyone. Not what they really need. People leave. I'm not good enough. Well, I can't care anymore. I have to focus on myself. Learn how to be selfish. Not worry about what others think. Not give everything. It feels...wrong somehow. But necessary, I guess. People don't understand. Or misunderstand. Or it doesn't matter enough to try to understand. I don't know. I don't understand other people...never have. But I get tired of being alone. In a crowded room I'm more alone than if I'm by myself. But that's life. My life.

One day I'll have more. Or there will be nothing. But I won't do things halfway. Not for anyone.

Dawn of a New Day

I slept through the night for the first time in weeks. It felt strange, but good. I've been on "vampire time" lately -- up until sunrise and sleeping during the day. I can't sleep for more than a few hours at a time, so it's like taking short naps throughout the day...with very intense dreams included. I know it's my S.A.D. at work because I can't seem to relax until the sun comes up. I went through this last summer too. Although, Seasonal Affective Disorder is always worse during the winter. To quote my favorite band: "But October fell and broke my shell and all I knew was down". That's been my life for the past 3 years...deep depression from October to February. December's the worst month because it's the anniversary of my aunt's death. I don't believe it's a coincidence that I "found Blue" (was introduced to Blue October) in October of last year. I needed something to ease the pain and they were that gift. They make me feel comforted, they make me scream, they make me cry, they make me hopeful. They have changed my life for the better and I'm very grateful that I got to meet them in April and see two shows. I'm also grateful for all of the wonderful people that I have met (online and in person) as a result of this band. My "Blue Family".

So that brings me to the reason for this post. I created my fan group "Blue Obsessed" as a result of a conversation between me and two other Blue October fans to give us a safe place to discuss the band and post videos, etc. It has grown into much more than that and I'm very proud of all of the work that I have done. But in my effort to please everyone and my need to be the first to post something new, I have forgotten that I have to please myself too. My page is my happy place because I enjoy promoting the band and sharing that love with others. I will continue to do that. But I get so frustrated when no one else contributes or shares my page with other fans. Maybe my expectations are just too high. I'm an ambitious, hard-working person by nature, so I put a lot of pressure on myself. It's unfair of me to put those expectations on others. It's also affecting my health to work so hard and take care of everyone else's needs. So I'm going to take a step back. Assess my priorities and do what needs to be done, step by step...slowly.

I have to find my balance again. Last year I had to find that middle place between the shy girl who never stood up for herself and the aggressive woman who spoke out too much. Took me a long time and there were many obstacles that I had to overcome. Now I have to find the balance between the person who gives too much and is left empty at the end, and the person who is needy and making demands that no one is able to satisfy. We all make our choices and we're all made differently. I'm a "giver"...it's genetic, it's how I was raised, it's natural to me and brings me joy. Some people are the opposite -- they use people to get what they want and selfishly hurt others in their quest for personal satisfaction. I'll never be that person and don't want to be. But I do need to take a little more of life for myself. Put myself first and then give what I can to my friends and family. It's hard because that's never my first thought. But I can change my thinking to do what's best for my current situation. And I'll continue to improve and move forward. I have a lot of battles left and I need to be strong.

I have help, a support system. Great people in my life who have found that balance already...or are still searching for it themselves. I never had so many people who were just like me and understood what all of these thoughts and feelings were like. In many ways I'm still alone, still feel misunderstood at times. I explain myself too much. But only because I want people to know me...and accept me. I'm very independent, stubborn, moody, and hold grudges. But I'm also very loving and loyal and sweet and empathetic. I need to be loved for all sides of me, unconditionally. I'm very protective of those I love and if you're in my heart, you'll be there forever. But forever's a long time...and I can only start with today.

Maybe I'm where I'm supposed to be

I've been contemplating my life a lot lately. And life in general. I'm not where I want to be financially, physically, mentally. I have a lot of work to do on myself and a lot of goals and dreams to accomplish. I want a rewarding career, I want to be healthy, I want to have a baby. And hopefully find a man who loves me and cherishes me as much as I do him. What I do have are great friends and family, people who support and encourage me and stand beside me when the days are tough. Which are a lot of days right now. My anxiety is at an all time high and I don't have the control I need. I'm afraid of where this will lead me. But I can only take it a minute at a time...a day at a time.

I'm "supposed" to be a Fashion Designer. That's what I have a degree in. I'm "supposed" to be married with kids by now. I'm 32 and single. At the very least I'm "supposed" to have a job. Not be unemployed for a year. I'm "supposed" to be off the depression meds by now. But I need them more than ever. Of course there are legitimate reasons why I'm not any of these things. Most out of my control. I could try harder. I'm always one for hard work. But I don't do something just for the sake of doing it, just because that's what I'm "supposed" to do. So here I am.

I had a conversation today...unexpected, but at a time when I really needed it. And it helped me put things into perspective. I've been getting involved in music for the past 9 months or so. Started just posting links to songs that I liked from various bands, mainly Blue October. My love for that band eventually developed into a group page on Facebook. But I've also promoted events and videos and info about other bands, and I've gotten to be good friends with many of the members. I came across Deep Ella on a fellow Blue fan's page and loved their music instantly. I have been promoting them since January and even got a little insight into how a studio recording session works. They are great guys and immensely talented and I'm proud of all of the hard work they put into this new album. And the part that makes me feel proud of myself is that they appreciate everything I've done for them and never fail to let me know how valuable I am.

I considered myself just "helping" them. I mean, how hard is it to share a link on various social networks or post a video or get my friends to join their fanpage? But now I see that I was "working" for them. This was a job to me, not just a hobby. The only difference is that I'm not getting paid for it. But happiness is its own reward...and doing this makes me happy. Being so immersed in music these past months has brought me some of my greatest pleasure. This is what was missing. I played the clarinet since 4th grade but stopped after I graduated high school. I taught myself the guitar a few years ago, but haven't kept up with it. I've always listened to all types of music and it was always a part of me, as much as art and writing. I'll never be a great musician and I don't need to be. Playing music that I like brings me joy. Listening to music from artists I respect and admire stirs my soul. Blue October saves me everyday and keeps me from feeling alone. Deep Ella relaxes me. Flyleaf brings out my spiritual side. Lisa Lavie gives me something my heart can relate to. All of these special people bring something to my life that I can't get elsewhere.

I'm looking into getting a job in music promotion, most likely the PR side. It will take time and work and a lot of learning. But this feels right. And so it begins...

The Introduction

I've been trying to think of what to write for my first blog. How to "introduce" myself. How much to say. Should I be as open as I am when I vent on Facebook? Should I write a poem or just talk about whatever comes to mind? How private should this be? A lot to think about....and I think a lot. But it helps me to write. I don't think of myself as a writer or poet, never even really wrote poems until recently. I wrote songs in the past, ever since I was young. But they're nothing special, not professional like my brother's. I just write what I feel. I enjoy it and it's therapeutic. For others as well...they say my words inspire them. I used to hold everything inside. I was shy and self-conscious and never thought my problems were serious. Because no one else did. So I just put a smile on my face and pretended everything was ok. It wasn't. And it's not now. I won't go into all of that today. But I thought I'd share a poem I wrote a few months ago. If you can read between the lines, you'll know. And maybe some of you can understand.


Home

Do you know what it feels like to fall?
To lose everything you gained,
To start at the bottom and work your way up?
What if you're too tired to try anymore?
What if the pain is your companion and despair is home?
Why would you want to leave your home?
You're safe there, comfortable.
You never have to ask if you belong because there's always a place for you.
And your companion never leaves you.
Is always watching over you.
Waiting until you need her again.

But sometimes you want to leave.
To try that other world.
The one that so many people talk about.
Happiness.
What's it like, you wonder.
Can I have it too?
They do.
So you try it, you open yourself and let it in.
But it's harder to live there - so many requirements, so many responsibilities.
You have to work very hard to stay happy.
Or they'll kick you out without a word.
Then you're on your own.
You can go back - it you do good enough, fight hard enough, are worthy.
Or you can go home and be taken care of.
Where you know you can sleep and dream and be.
Be yourself - no doubt about it there.

But happiness comes with a price.
Lots of them.
You have to let go of the past, let go of the things that were once important.
You have to move on to unknown places, take risks knowing you'll fail.
But you can't help yourself because maybe, just maybe you'll succeed.
And you do.
But it all goes away - because it wasn't yours.
You're just visiting after all.


2/9/10 ~ NM