Archive for Depression

Tentacles of Hope

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on January 20, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

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The image was engraved forever into my mind when I woke up in ICU from a suicide failure, something that would forever haunt me.

I’m so sorry to those I hurt. but at the time I meant to die. I’m glad God spared my life, as I was already unconscious when they (my husband and police)  got to me. I had really believed, and thought I would die. I could only imagine the horror of my husbands face when he found me.

I had been so sick for so long. I was untreated for the following; anxiety, severe depression, mania, yep bipolar, I had drug and alcohol abuse for 10 years, later PTSD (I started having nightmares, screaming every night and my husband had to console me to a safe position) And rIght, of course, my eating disorder  (bulimia, anorexia) and dissociative (which started at age 5 after a severe trauma). Now it’s on rare occasions. Yikes, there is more but I’m sure I’ve outworn my welcome here.  For now…

In 2010, I went into drug rehab. I did not realize  what was ahead of me otherwise I would have hauled ass but I had a sick mind. And that I was being groomed by this creep man, this so-called Doctor. In 2012, I was sexually assaulted by this man who took an oath, “Do no harm.”

Over the next year I started losing weight like crazy. My eating disorder had exacerbated.

Looking at pictures, I looked horrible, I had people ask me if I was sick instead of  I was smokin hot! I asked to go into treatment but the doctor just said, “you are too old.” I was like 50!

Whatever age, whatever sex, I believed we all deserve treatment. My nursing board sure thought so as I had been approached by the nursing board. You don’t want that, trust me? Then I had no choice, no voice.  I wasn’t too old, there were women older than me in rehab which only as angered me. I wasted precious time damaging my body.

My mind was killing my body. I was a deserted shell.

The octopus has his arms. (There are 8, like duh). You get rid of one arm (well you can do the math), calling my name into their world.A black abyss, bottom feeders.  So bipolar is a disease, not much I can do about mental illness except do the work to stay as normal as possible. Whatever that is? Treatment for me includes medicine and it has taken years to find the right mix. A good counselor someone I could trust. psychiatrists to prescribe your meds. And a 12 step program.. prayer and meditation ( that isn’t crazier than me), a sponsor, someone in the program that I can talk to. And the most important thing is i need God. If you are atheist, you need God too.  This is my cocktail for surviving mental illness and addictions.

The shame and guilt which can be crippling at times, I  was able to share my experiences for the first time and because of my illnesses, after I sought treatment , treatment, treatment and drugs like antidepressants etc., I was able to get back on my feet.

For me, when I got sober, I was on the 12 step or AA pink cloud. I floated. All was well. And when the sexual assault happened. This is when I plummeted. I crashed

I went from one arm of the octopus to another  arm of the octopus. I was vulnerable (James 1:2-3), I had not put my faith in God’s way, my shield of armor. And my ED went nuts in 2013 where I spent a total of 3+ months in rehab.

What was the image I mentioned that had been engraved  into my mind forever when I woke up in ICU, I will never forget my children’s faces with tears streaming down their cheeks. That image still haunts me.

As does my own experience as a child, My parents attempts and my granddads successful suicide, It left me with  scars that were deep within my soul. I am still angry. I have had extensive counseling, therapy and many other things but mostly Prayer on my knees kind of praying.

The crash  was pivotal in my healing of a very traumatic life, childhood trauma, etc.  Oh, I do have to work at it. AA, sponsors (a 12- steps),engaging with others,the hardest for me was changing playmates and playgrounds. And most importantly a higher power which I call God!  I was blessed with the best of friends, all in the program so they get it! But My family rocks! They have stood with me in spite of me!

How good is that?

Blessings

 

disclaimer: This blog is my experience. Take what you can use, leave the rest. Respect me and others or I’ll send the monkeys. Connie Barris and may not be used, reprinted, or published without my written consent.

A Force To Be Reckoned With

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on February 5, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

Sometimes, I just get depressed. I don’t know if it’s my personality or real depression. I try to figure out what is going on in my head by telling my sponsor or writing it down. Sometimes, it makes sense and sometimes it just doesn’t.

Already I have probably lost you. But I will try once again to explain this. For me.

I have highs and lows in any given second. I yell easily, cry hard and am timid when it comes to love. I might hug you if I feel safe with you. I still feel awkward at times with hugging people if I don’t know you. I absolutely will not open up to you unless I have known you for some time and then it is iffy (as I share my life on this blog 🙂  ).

I get anxious over small things and hit the big things with a force to be reckoned with. It is the fear of little things that devour me and worry me to death.  I worry about things that haven’t even happened and may never happen. Then after I have convinced myself that the worst has happened like my son has been in a wreck, I become crippled with fear. Geez …

By now, I’m terribly upset and I don’t want you or anyone to get me out of this craziness I have gotten myself into. I am in mental lockdown.

So, I went to the doctor… and he gave me some medicine for this “depression.” Eventually, all was well. I am like the pendulum swinging in the middle instead of the extremes. “So this is what it’s like? To be normal?”

My husband actually decided he liked the new me.  (instead of his screaming, yelling, crying temperamental wife)

At first, I felt like a failure… Another pill… but my friend said, diabetics take a pill…. You have a disease, take the pill. Not like I’m getting high on it!!

I don’t cry as hard… like I want to be a blubbering idiot anyway.

So I look at it this way, I’ve been dug out of the ditch to have a fighting chance to be who I really am.

To be Beautifully Awkward.