Calling it enough

I’ve written several posts about my depression, PTSD, fibromyalgia, etc. Writing and sharing does help, and not just me but sometimes others out there that are dealing with the same thing. Just knowing someone else truly gets what you’re going through can be a comfort.

We have to take care of ourselves, both physically and mentally. As a mother that isn’t always easy to do. We tend to look out for our families, our children, husband, parents, friends, literally everyone else first, and all too often don’t leave enough time for ourselves. If we do take some time we often feel guilty, like we’re taking time away from others, or taking time that could be better spent completing a task. In reality, all we’re taking away from is our physical and mental health, depleting ourselves, not considering that there is a breaking point and we are speeding up reaching it.

I am SO guilty of this. I have reached said breaking point. I have way more on my plate than I should have and I have mostly done it to myself. I have raised four children, home schooled all four, while obtaining an online college degree, running the office of my husband’s business, writing two poetry books and a frugal living book, buried both of my parents and all but two of my 12 siblings, a set of grandparents, taken in other people’s teenagers and helped raise them, had a home burn to the ground, been assaulted, and am now raising my small grandson. My husband is a saint to have been by my side with all of this, not to mention a mental snap a few years ago.

I have always been proud of being my father’s daughter, strong, stubborn, competant. But what I failed to acknowledge was that I’m also my mother’s daughter – hot tempered, nervous, and a worrier. Through my depression I have failed to grasp that my mother had depression and anxiety, a fact that, had I grasped that, I may have been more aware of my own symptoms. My mother’s was never truly diagnosed, her pcp just prescribed her “nerve medicine”. I never realized what the medicine was she was taking. As it turns out these two conditions can be hereditary –  according to Stanford Medicine, “Heritability is probably 40-50%, and might be higher for severe depression. This could mean that in most cases of depression, around 50% of the cause is genetic, and around 50% is unrelated to genes (psychological or physical factors).” That is a key fact that is important to know, and for one’s healthcare provider to know.

So for me, I’m making a plan. I’m taking a “me day” today, and I will be taking them more often in the future. I will take time to meditate, calm the mind, and just take care of myself for a change. If I don’t I am not going to be able to properly take care of my family, this little boy that needs me, nor am I going to be able to teach him that self care is important, crucial even.

If you are an abuse or/and trauma survivor its that much more important. It’s also so much more important that you reach out and get therapy, to not only talk and work through what happened, but to learn PROPER coping skills, and also to make absolute sure you have fully dealt with what happened. You also need someone that you can talk to or see for therapy if you realize down the road that you didn’t fully process and deal with it.

To your mental and physical health, until next time…

Source:

Stanford Medicine: https://med.stanford.edu/depressiongenetics/mddandgenes.html#:~:text=That%20is%20the%20case%20for,(psychological%20or%20physical%20factors).

Born too late

If you or someone you know is contemplating a mid/late life baby, I emplore you to not. I was one, and the older I get the more strongly I feel about this. I wouldn’t wish being one on anyone. Let me share with you why.

I will not say that people who have children late in life are selfish because my dad was the least selfish person I’ve ever known, and I’m 50. However, there was no consideration given to what my life, especially my adult life, would be like. Therein lies the problem. My mom was in her mid 40’s and my dad was past 60 when I was born. They both had grown children, dad had grandchildren. Que my childhood problems.

I had older siblings. All but 2 were old enough to be my parent. A couple could have been my grandparent. I was picked on in school because I rode the bus and shared a class – with my nephew. Our teacher thought we were lying and was actually twins. They didn’t understand some of my school work, especially algebra. They had no interest in extra curricular activities, like chorus, volleyball, or track, and most often were too tired/busy/uninterested to attend or take me to these things. They were frustrated with friends wanting to spend the night or asking me to. They didn’t like the music, movies, or fashion of my age group. They didn’t agree with the newer dating age or ways.

Don’t get me wrong, overall looking back now – I wouldn’t change any of it. I cherish the things I learned from my parents, especially my dad. They tought me valuable things that most other kids weren’t blessed to learn growing up.

As an adult, though, I don’t know if the tradeoff is worth it. I lost my dad when I was 23. My oldest daughter was not even a year old when he died. My other three children never got to meet him. They were cheated out of meeting that incredible man, of having their grandpa. My mom died when they were teenagers. Living out of state they never really got to know her either. I was 42 when she died. She isn’t here for me to talk to about midlife stuff like being a grandmother for the first time, menopause, and all the other things that women my age talk to their mothers about. She wasn’t here when my daughter graduated from college.

Then there’s grandparents. What are they? My friends all got to go to their grandparents houses for holidays, to spend weekends/vacations, etc. I didn’t. I had one living grandparent and he died when I was not quite 5. The other three were already dead by the time I came along. I didn’t have aunts and uncles to be the “fun aunt so and so“. I didn’t get to bake with grandma.

And with those older siblings I’m dealing with my siblings dying. I started out with 12, I have 3 left. One of them is 82. We have nothing in common except a parent. I’ve spent the majority of my life, near all of my adult life, feeling like a disconnected orphan. It’s part of the reason I moved hundreds of miles away and rarely visited. It’s been awful. I had 12 – a full dozen – siblings. I didn’t grow up with them. They grew up in an entirely different time. We had no common ground. They were adults with jobs and teenagers. Yeah I saw them at reunions, or when they came to see dad. It’s hard because I love them, they’re my siblings, but it’s different than when you grow up with them. I had one sister, she was 8 years older than me so I had her home until I was 8. I lost her when I was 40, she died from cancer. So I know the difference in the grief from when you grow up with them and when you don’t. It’s an entirely different pain/grief.

We’ve never had the all the kids going home for the holidays, the vacations/visits to each others houses, the get togethers, the birthday phone calls, the family photos. I don’t have any pictures of myself with my siblings from dad, and very few from moms. I look at old “family” photos and just feel sad and empty, like I didn’t belong. I don’t belong.

I’m blessed with my husband’s family. He doesn’t have siblings, but he has an amazing mom that has taken me in as her own, and I got to share his grandparents until they passed a few years ago. I’ve adopted his aunts and cousins. It’s helped fill a void somewhat, but its not quite the same.

I’m spending my adult life surrounded by death, especially with a large family. I lost 2 siblings and a sister in law in one year. My nieces and nephews are grandparents/great grandparents – I don’t know any of them. And my kids, they’ve been cheated out of a lot of the same things, especially the aunts and uncles. Fortunately they do at least have one set of grandparents.

So while the intention may not be to be selfish, please trust me when I say it is a selfish decision. You may get to enjoy a sweet little baby, but that baby grows up, and is left with the carnage. That baby deals with loss too early, misses out on SO much, and so do their children. Just because you can have a baby doesn’t mean you should. Be a foster parent instead. Help a child that’s already here and needs someone. The world needs foster families, it doesn’t need more children that feel disconnected, lost, and like they don’t belong.

Invisible

Do you ever feel invisible, or like you might as well be? Like everything you do, feel, say is just not seen or heard by anyone? Or if they do hear you or see you they just don’t get it, not really, or understand it?

That’s what it’s like having a chronic pain disease, and Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), and anxiety, and many other health problems. We don’t “look” sick or sad. We’re not on crutches or in a wheel chair so how can we be in pain – nothing’s broken, we haven’t been injured, there’s been no accident. Because people can’t “see” what’s causing the pain they don’t understand – or believe it.

It’s the same way with MDD. We’re doing our thing, washing the dishes, buying the groceries, we even smiled or shared something funny on social media, so how can we be sad or depressed? Because we’re good at hiding it after a while.

The thing is, the media doesn’t help. They pay actors/actresses to advertise all these different medications, and the commercials show these meds working miracles. The people are playing ball, coaching sports, out doing all these things, but the reality is most of the medications barely take the edge off the pain, and the side effects actually make things worse. They cause other problems, requiring another medication, with more side effects, and before you know it what started as one pain disease is now three with a side of depression, insomnia, weight gain, chronic fatigue syndrome, and for some of us Chronic migraines.

I started out in mid 2016 with a diagnosis of Fibromyalgia and arthralgia (arthritis). Here came the Cymbalta. I was already on Gabapentin since 2006 for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and enlarged nerves in both my wrists. By the end of 2017 I had a diagnosis of MDD, anxiety, and insomnia. Here came more meds – an antidepressant for the MDD, another one for the insomnia (also a strong antidepressant). By mid 2018 the migraines started. The specialist prescribed another med to help limit the intensity and frequency. Then came blackouts and falls, and migraines that sent me to the ER – multiple times. Another specialist and more meds (I’m up to 6 at this point). Then in 2019 came the heat allergy – yes, a heat allergy. I couldn’t wash dishes, or take a shower, or even be outside for any length of time without breaking out in hives. I literally had to take Benadryl to take a shower.

By that point I was unable to drive because, well, I could pass out or black out at any point without much warning. Not that I cared to leave the house much. I was a functioning zombie. I dealt with it until the end of 2019 and had had enough. I started out 2020 weaning myself off the meds. I just couldn’t do it anymore. By fall of last year they were gone, I was med free and working on building myself back up. I worked on the things the doctors recommended for the MDD, started using a bicycle machine for low impact exercise, doing Yoga for Fibro patients, and meditating – a LOT of meditating. I found some for insomnia so I could start sleeping again. It’s a battle, and I still have a long way to go, but I’ve come a long way too. I have to remind myself of that from time to time. The pain is still there, but the heat allergy is gone, the migraines have mostly subsided; they’re mostly just nasty headaches now, and the blackouts are gone. I still have bad days, especially when the weather takes a major shift, bad storms roll through, or the temperature suddenly drops, but I can usually feel them coming and plan accordingly.

The thing is, it seems like since I’m learning to manage it, and push through the pain, that those around me have forgotten I still have these diseases. They didn’t go away, just most of the nasty side effects. I still have Fibromyalgia, and arthritis, and Chronic Fatigue, and Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, and anxiety, and MDD. I don’t do crowds. I don’t leave my house unless I have to. The lockdown during 2020 didn’t phase me at all, seriously. I go to the grocery store once a week and I’ve learned which days and times are the least busy; that’s when I go.

But I’ve lost the sense of pride I had in getting off the meds and taking my life back, because those off days…I feel lazy again. I feel like I’m letting my family down again because I was in too much pain to do my normal cleaning, or I took shortcuts on dinner because I just wasn’t feeling up to it. I do my best to hide it and smile because I have a toddler that senses everything – if I’m hurting, if I’m sad, if I’m beating myself up inside over something I forgot or haven’t done, he’s right there asking “mommy, what’s wrong?” So I smile for him. I’ve learned to hide it for him, because I can’t bare the thought of him being sad because of me. In all honesty, he’s the inspiration, what gave me the strength to go off all my meds and to work as hard as I have been. He’s what gets me out of bed every morning. He’s the reason I hide the tears; he’s the reason I grin and bare it. He’s the reason I’m invisible.

My go-to guided meditation: Michael Sealey on YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/c/MichaelSealey

Some Therapy tips: https://www.essenceofhealingcounseling.com/using-positive-affirmations-to-combat-anxiety-and-depression/

Homesteading prepper life with migraines…

That’s not what some folks would think would go together – some actually think I’ve lost what was left of my mind. (Others question if I ever had one, lol.) But when you really get right down to it and look at what I actually do, it works, and makes things easier in the long run.

You see, on the good days, the non-pain, non-headache days, I make meal plans (menus). These typically run anywhere from 10-14 days, and includes 2 left over nights. and I always have a couple “easy” meals on them just in case we are really busy or I’m having a bad day, (You don’t have to stick strictly to each day, they can be switched up depending on how you’re feeling,) simply because I know the drill by now. If the week goes smooth then hey, I have it easy! I also have enough stuff canned and frozen that if a nasty migraine or fibromyalgia flare pops up in between that a jar of soup or stew can be opened to hold the family over, or some burgers can go on a grill, or some gumbo can go in the cast iron Dutch oven and simmered for a little bit and keep the troops from wasting away until I recover. There’s always bread for sandwiches, jams, fruit butters, cheeses, crackers, fruit and granola bars, and eggs in the house. It may not be the most beautiful meal, but it’s nutritious, balanced, and it will work if the menu plan has run out.

As a large family over the years, and a homeschool family on one income I got us to where I could buy in bulk, and do most of my shopping once a month. That meant I could start doing some cooking ahead days. This has also helped with the migraines and fibro days. I have ground beef already cooked and canned and frozen for spaghetti, tacos, etc. I have hotdogs canned instead of frozen. I have homemade cornedbeef hash. Days that I’ve made lasagna I’ll make two and freeze one, and I’ll do the same with other casseroles, like homemade chicken and beef pot pies. The foil pans are easily available at most grocery stores and come with their own lids.

These are just some easy things you can do to reduce some of your own stress when you have a chronic illness/pain disease or chronic migraines and never know when a flare/attack is going to hit.

Until next time,

The GreenLady

Some things don’t change much…old draft from last year

It’s been a while since I’ve wrote anything. I’m not sure where to start. There’s so many things going on in my mind; so many thoughts, emotions, frustrations, questions; so much confusion. It’s hard to sort it all out sometimes.

I question myself with much of it. Do I really feel this way or is it hormones, or am I just momentarily annoyed? Will I still feel this way in an hour, 3 hours, tomorrow, or will it go fleeting away in a few minutes? Am I just overreacting or are my feelings/thoughts justified? Chaos. I think it’s just mental chaos.

No matter how long it been, for some reason I have this issue with taking time for myself, doing things for me – that’s just for me. Taking time to just sit and write or read a book; taking time for a long bath if it’s not physically necessary for arthritis or fibromyalgia pain; taking time for my own projects or to work on my dreams. I only seem to be able to spend time on things that are for others; that will make them happy, make them smile, make their life easier and/or more enjoyable, things that they need. I don’t know for sure why it is, but it has always been that way. I know it shouldn’t be; I know about self care; I know I need to take a certain amount of time out each day for me, for my mental and physical well being; but it doesn’t change the fact that for some insane reason I feel guilty anytime I try to. I feel like I’m neglecting my family, like I’m being lazy and selfish.

I know part of it at least is tied to my depression and the Fibromyalgia. They’re all intertwined, and I swear they feed off each other. I get a little depressed and the Fibro flares and I start feeling bad about myself because I “let it happen” as I tell myself in my head, which only makes everything worse. It’s a vicious cycle, and one I’ve done well the last couple months to stay out of, but I feel myself slowly slipping back there. I guess I just feel sometimes like my life isn’t my own – like I’m living it for everyone else. I’m here; every single day is the same. Change the diapers, cook the food, drive someone to work, go pick them up from work, do the dishes, make the bed, sweep the floors, mop the floors, do the laundry, pay the bills, solve everyone else’s problems after you listen to them. Stop listening and helping equals pettiness and drama and/or losing said person/people from your life. Don’t do the other tasks and the work just piles up and is three times as bad the next day. Not to mention the baby has to be taken care of and fed.

At some point there needs to be sleep, but I think I’m subconsciously avoiding going to bed because I know how much I hurt when I wake up; a lovely combination of the weather, my disease, arthritis, depression, and some stress all rolled into one. Once I’m up and around I’m okay; it’s the getting up and getting the pain under control that’s the problem.

All in all my mind is about my worst enemy. I have a good life. My husband is amazing. I have good kids, and an adorable little boy that I love more than my own life. He is the center of my world, and what keeps me going most every day. But there are days that I just wish there was a little time I could steal away for my own, to do things aside from the day to day chores and responsibilities. Some time to work on my business, my hobbies. I need to learn to do just that. Take the time for me. I have to get better at understanding that, because I need it. It’s not so much a want anymore. If I don’t I know the depression is going to take over again.

Life of a menopausal mom

Do you ever get so caught up in the day to day that you completely lose track of just how much time has actually gone by? Like you sit down and finally stop to realize “wow, it’s been a year since I picked up the phone and called Aunt Louise?!” or “it’s seriously only six months until Christmas again?!” Yeah, that. That is what has been happening in my life lately…well, for the last year and a half really. I look at the calendar and it’s May, before I know it it’s Halloween, then it’s Christmas, then it’s Easter, then there’s a pandemic, now there’s still a pandemic and it’s almost Halloween again… and I still haven’t called Aunt Louise!! Apparently this happens in menopause, and when you’re raising toddlers. I vaguely remember it from twenty years ago.

I just carry a note pad around the house now. The notes app in my phone is useless – I forget to use it – and to set the reminders. I guess I’m just too old school for that part of the smart phone. I have to physically write it for my brain to process the remembering part; typing doesn’t seem to count. I don’t think it’s all old age, I mean, I’m not like old old. I think it’s brain overload. Raising a toddler at almost 50 is tiring both physically and mentally, then add in normal housework, running an at home business, being your husband’s bookkeeper, dealing with health issues, trying to garden and can and well… it takes a toll. The brain is just full, and tired, and I think after a certain point in the day it simply says “nope, I’m done” and shuts itself off. From there I’m just sorta on autopilot. Which is why I end up with no concept of how many weeks or months end up floating by with no contact with the outside world other those immediate people that contact me.

But Little Man is my best helper. He’s there for the laundry with the clothes pins, pushing the laundry basket, and even helping put his laundry away now. He tries his best to help dust, wash windows, mop, whatever the task may be. It may take twice as long, but at least he’s willing to try and it’s a whole lot more fun and definitely entertaining! This is my life now, bubbly floors, soapy windows, Avon orders, washable crayons, still canning and dehydrating, and loving life with my little man that’s keeping me moving ❤

Until next time, The Green Lady

The New Normal isn’t so normal…

I keep hearing people talking about this new normal. Well, I’m not finding it so “normal”. Are you?

This week is a fine example. Talking to the college for my son. As some of you know he’s on the “spectrum” for Autism. Instead of discussing a campus visit, possible course load, tuition, applications, the “normal” the discussion is about masks, staggard move ins, social distancing, sanitizing stations, distance exams, etc…?!?! Wait…what??? The list of required supplies now includes: Masks (at least 2 reusable), hand sanitizer, disinfectant spray, disinfectant cleaners for the dorms, OTC pain relievers/fever reducers, a good thermometer for temperature checks, etc etc. Is he going to college or a third world country mission trip??? NONE of that is normal!!

As if that isn’t enough, I take the two year old for his two year check up – 2 months late due to … you guessed it, Covid 19. We only get through the first door and sure enough temperature check and masks, and of course, hand sanitizer. Have you tried sanitizing a two year olds hands?? Try to keep it out of their mouth, while making them stand on the 6 feet away circle. Go ahead, i’ll wait. Still waiting… Exactly. Let’s not even discuss filling out that cute little form and the waiting room. Heads up CDC and governors: 2 year olds do not social distance. They don’t care what you say or think. They’re going to hug that other little kid to say hello. It’s just what they do. They don’t care about distancing and pandemics, they don’t care about race or color, or religion. They only care that there’s another little kid of somewhat equal size in that room that appears to have a similar interest and they’re going in.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I was proud of my two year old. I didn’t give a rat’s butt about that form either. I had put on the stupid mask, and sanitized my hands. I sat smiling behind the mask and simply said “remember to take turns little man” as he trucked on over saying “hello” and started talking  away to the other little kids, holding up his little fist to bump the little boy then hug the little girl sitting in the chair before he proceeded on to the frog on the wall with the other little girl. As a side note that I found interesting, he bypassed the little white boy sitting to the side with his dad staring at the other kids in an unfriendly manner and went to the play area. Kids don’t see color. They see beyond it. They see people. They see what’s inside. He saw friends, common ground. He fist bumped the little boy because the guys in his life do that with him and his dad.

Kids pick up on what they hear and see from the adults in their life. He sees everyone being treated the same no matter the color or race so he doesn’t pay any attention, doesn’t notice a difference, just if you’re a boy or girl. But boy, did I get some nasty and shocked looks!!! It wasn’t like that 8 months ago when I was there. So not normal. I now have people whispering about my motives and reasonings for smiling at non-white people of all things! What the hell is that about??  I smile at everyone and say hello or hi. Always have! I’ve always been of the mindset that you don’t know what someone may be going through, and a simple smile may be the one bright spot in their day. I’ve had it be that in mine. I’ve had a smile from a stranger change my entire day before. So no, there’s NOTHING NORMAL about that.

What do you think of this new normal? What is it like where you live? Are parks and playgrounds open?

 

 

Where has all the laughter gone, the humor, the fun?

Where have all the friendships gone, the jokes, the sun?

Everyone is angry, intollerance abounds.

Everyone’s in a mask, waving signs, speaks in a shout.

No one wants to hear you. There’s is the only right way.

Agree with them completely, You have nothing to say.

The skys are always grey, rain’s always coming down.

Everywhere I turn most everyone’s wearing a frown.

What’s happened to society, where have ethics gone?

What happened to morals and dignity, what happened to right and wrong?

Face the challenges we’re given, play the hand we’re dealt. Don’t pass the blame along .

 

Time to bridge the divide

I, as the owner and manager of two of my own businesses, and partner of a third, am saddened, disheartened, and disappointed in so many of the large corporations in America today.

From the day I started business school I was taught to stay politically neutral. You do not, in any way, take sides or get involved in sensitive situations that can in any fashion jeopardize the business or put it in a bad light, be construed as being racially, politically, or sexually biased, or bring harm of any kind to the company, legal or otherwise.

Yet here we are, in 2020, with conglomerates sporting racial protest jargon on their websites, television apps, grocery store chain pages, and so on. What in the name of all that is holy is going on?? Has the whole of corporate and political society in America lost their way? Do they have amnesia? Are they being threatened or blackmailed in some way that we don’t know about? I really am serious here, and let me explain why before you start calling me a racist or worse.

First, I’m not a racist, not that I really care what you think, because myself and my creator know the truth. When businesses and corporations jump on these bandwagons professing their solidarity, thinking its helping (as a marketing ploy gone terribly wrong) what they are really doing is creating a bigger divide than we already had to start with. What they do not understand by not seeing the big picture is that 1) not all black people appreciate it; some actually take offense to it. 2) They are alienating a portion of other populations, (not just whites).  3) those people that were neutral, that were understanding, sympathetic, but still sane are now going to the other side – getting angry and fed up with the whole thing. 4) In the end they will lose more business than they will gain, and may possibly gain some lawsuits along with it, as well as possibly making themselves a target.

Second, the political side of this whole racial thing is getting out of hand again as well.  Targeting historical monuments is not the answer, now, anymore than it was five years ago – obviously. Our nation’s history is just that – our history, for better and for worse. When we forget it, and our elected officials take it upon themselves to dismantle and hide it, we are bound to repeat it. Like it our not, painful or not, as long as those monuments and flags are still there we, as a nation are reminded of our history, of darker times, of  struggles and triumphs. And as long as we remember we can avoid making those same terrible mistakes again. Why do we have to look a statue of Robert E Lee and think of horrors? Yes, he was a Confederate General, but he was good one, not one that slaughtered black people. He was decent and fair. Why do we have to see the negative in these statues, memorials, and flags? Why can’t we look at them and see how far this nation has come? How far Black people have come, not just since the war, but since Civil Rights? We are a FREE nation. How these symbols are viewed is a matter of individual perspective. And frankly, why is this generation having such a fit about all of this and not previous ones? They would have had way more right to than anyone now.

At this point, one person’s viewpoint should not be more valuable than another’s. But if we remove all of these, history will repeat itself. No one is holding anyone of any color or race back in this country except the individual themselves. No one alive today is responsible for what happened in 1860, or what their ancestors did in 1860. No one is responsible for what their relatives did in 1960 or 1965. I can’t control what my family members do today, can you? I am only responsible for myself, here in the now and in the future, as are each one of you. It’s time to take down the blame, the hate, the resentment, and the divide, not our history. Let’s stop feeding into the media frenzy, and the corporate and political games, and as a society begin to take back our country together. Tell the corporate giants to take down their banners and stop broadening the divide. If they want to help try posting “Unite our Nation” or “Bridge the Divide”. Tell the networks to stop broadcasting only the worst clips of the headlines. Try showing the good. Try doing some follow-ups. Flood their stations with unifying stories; let them know you don’t agree with their agenda. Reach out to your local politicians. Flood their offices with letters and emails telling them you don’t agree with things; give them your ideas, thoughts, and opinions. Do so in a carefully thought out manner that they cannot ignore. Send in petitions. They work for you!! All lives do matter, and all votes matter!! All voices matter!! That’s how real change comes about, and at the same time throws the media and ignorant politicians on their …ears.

Let’s show Amazon, NASCAR, the media, Publix, and the rest of them that WE the PEOPLE – all of us people, are serious about positive change without tearing down our history so we don’t live to repeat it, and our children and grandchildren don’t live to repeat it. Be able to proudly show them the symbols and tell them how far we’ve all come – together.

 

Winding Roads…

I sometimes feel like my emotions and moods are taking me down a winding mountain road. Around one bend is happiness, smiles, and giggles, but around the next… it’s sadness, depression, feeling lost, unworthy; it seems like this road will never end.

For days on end I can be fine, yet others is that twisty road. There’s no rhyme or reason; sometimes it can be a comment or tone that triggers it, and yet other times – nothing at all, it just is. Still others a comment may trigger self reflection, then self doubt, and then it may go as far as questioning if those around me would be better off – more at ease and at peace – if I went away, lived somewhere else, where I wasn’t upsetting them. It’s rare that it gets that far anymore, but when the mood is right it happens.

I know it’s the depression and PTSD causing it all, but there’s still that little place in my mind that wonders, is it really that, or is it something else? Is this just me? It’s happening less as I’m working my way through all the demons, scars, and happenings that have been locked away for so long, not dealt with, but I never imagined it would take so long. I guess that’s what happens when life doesn’t give you time to catch up, it just keeps throwing more at you to deal with. As you work through it you start noticing things about yourself, see yourself changing. You eventually realize you’re not the person you used to be. You’re not the person those things happened to. Then you find yourself having to get to know the person you have become. In my case I’m learning that I’m even more untrusting than I was before. At times I even feel numb or cold, like I’ve forgotten how to open up or care of love. But I’ve realized that it’s not that I’ve forgotten how, it’s that I’m so guarded. I don’t trust anyone – like seriously no one. I doubt everyone’s motives and intentions, what they say, their sincerety, everything. It’s even worse with people that have broke my trust before. They may be completely sincere and totally honest, but to me I can’t trust them, and I’m not sure how they will ever prove to me that I can right now.

I’m just ready to not question myself anymore. Not second guess my abilities as a parent, as a friend, as a wife. I’m tired of asking myself if it’s me or the disease. I’m tired of taking things so personally; but when you literally question and doubt everything about yourself anyways everything is personal. Even when you know that the words are coming from an angry narcissist trying to hurt you – it’s still personal, because it’s triggering old wounds, tearing scabs off where it was almost healed, making that wound bigger and deaper, leaving a hole that may never completely heal. I know the reason, I know the intent and that its mostly not true, but when those words hit that nerve like a dagger, there’s nothing you can do. Those words can’t be unheard or unread; The damage is already done. All I can do now is remove that person from my life as much as possible, pull on my training to get through it, put my walls back up, at least for a while, and keep  reminding myself that I rose above it before, and I will do it again.