So, I will be writing articles on Social Networking for Examiner.com.
Stay tuned...
And have a great holiday weekend!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
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.
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.
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