Archive - February 2015

Something happened yesterday afternoon that made me realize something.  It is NOBODY’S job to make me happy. Happiness is a decision, not a feeling.  So, I have to decide every day to be happy either along with, or in spite of, those around me.  People are not consistent.  So, I choose to ignore the pain of being constantly lonely and try to find my happy place with or without anyone’s help.  Probably without. I’ve been thinking more about “the wall” I’ve put up.  Walls aren’t all bad.  They are sometimes used to keep the enemy out. To protect us.  To shield us.  So, maybe walls are a good thing. Mine makes me feel safe, so I may just have to keep it.  For a while, anyway.

Yesterday, Mission Accomplished.  Sort of.  Woke up in a bit of a panic, but was able to shake it.  Then, for the most part it was a really good day.  Lots of laughter in our house.  Kids laughing and being silly.  Laughing and playing with the dogs.  I love that sound.  Even when it gets loud and crazy….the sound of laughter is beautiful.  It means there is life in the house.  I hate silence.  Even if I am home by myself, I have to have some sort of noise.  I love to read, but even if I am reading, and home alone, I have the TV on just for the noise.  Noise I can deal with….silence, to me, is deafening.  Noise tends to drown out the thoughts, or demons as I’ve called them, that are always with me.  I think that’s why I hated bed time so much as a child.  I always had trouble sleeping, so I would just lay there and think.  That’s probably why I have an easier time even now falling asleep on the couch with people talking and the TV on than I do in the silence of a bedroom.  If only my brain had an on/off switch.  I try to use the silence as a time to pray but the chaos of my thoughts keeps my prayer time to just a few seconds.  I REALLY need to work on that.  My prayer time has pretty much come to a halt.  Someone told me once, not that long ago actually, that the wall I’ve put up to keep people out is also keeping God out.  She’s right.  I guess it’s time to figure out how to start breaking that wall down.

Every day I feel like I’m on some kind of impossible mission.  A mission to find peace.  To not panic, to not feel like I just got punched in the stomach, to not hurt….emotionally, to not feel like there’s something to dread.  Most of the time, I feel like I am screaming and nobody can hear me.  Everyone just walks by me, and all they see is the fake smile on the outside.  Nobody can hear the silent screams.  Nobody at all.  Have you ever had a dream that you’re screaming for help and no one can hear you?  I feel like that while I’m awake almost every single day.

Really weird….lately, I’ve had an overwhelming need to make sure the people I love really know how much I love them.  Sometimes I don’t think I’m very good at letting them know.  Just “I love you” doesn’t seem to be enough.  If something happened to me, would they really know what they meant to me??  I have no idea.  I certainly hope so.

You know, most companies and organizations have a mission statement. Maybe I need to make up a personal mission statement so I can look at it every day and do my best to accomplish it.  Or maybe I just need to take some medicine and try to mask all the feelings of dread and disappointment that seem to go along with waking up.  Again.

I’ve said that about a million times in my life.  If only I had made this decision differently.  If only I had done this.  If only I hadn’t done that.  The only thing I ever wanted to be when I grew up was a good wife and a good mom.  Sometimes….most of the time, really….I feel like I fail miserably at both.  Not that anyone necessarily MAKES me feel that way.  Not on purpose, anyway.  It’s just one of the many negative thoughts bouncing around in my head all the time.  Part of the “excessive feelings of guilt” the counselor told me I have, I guess.

I had an extremely bad panic attack Sunday morning.  I actually woke up with it.  It’s been a good while since that has happened, but it was really, really bad.  So thankful for an understanding husband. Let me just say something to all of you out there who are in my shoes.  We expect those who live with us to be understanding.  But we have to be understanding, too.  They really have absolutely NO IDEA what we’re going through unless they have suffered from anxiety and/or panic attacks.  So, they do NOT understand.  No way they could.  And if we really love them, we don’t WANT them to understand because we don’t want them to feel what we feel.  This was my rather crude analogy….I told my husband it would be like him trying to explain to me how bad it hurts to get hit in the nuts. He can explain it.  I’ll believe him that it is excruciating.  But I will NEVER know exactly what it feels like.  So, just like we try to remain calm, not panic and not show our anxiety, they are trying to understand….to help….to fix things for us.  But they can’t.  So, we have to just appreciate the effort and take comfort in the fact that they’re willing to try to help and are doing their best to understand. It’s a lot to deal with and at times very difficult to live with, I’m sure. So, a big ol’ SHOUT OUT to those of you who walk on the calmer side of life for hanging in there with those of us who spend most of our days in complete mental chaos.  THANK YOU!!

Well, that’s where I am today.  What, exactly, is the point?  I know there’s supposed to be one. I know we are all supposedly created for a reason. For a purpose. Yes, I’ve read “The Purpose Driven Life”. Twice.  I still don’t know what my purpose is or if I even have one. Sometimes I feel like I’m just taking up space.  Is my purpose solely to fight some sort of mental battle every single day?  Am I a pawn for the demons to bat around when they aren’t busy making someone else miserable?  What am I supposed to do?  What good am I to anyone?  Ok, this is absolutely NOT a pity party and I’m not looking for someone to pat me on the head and tell me everything is going to be okay and I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and a LOT of people have it a LOT worse.  I’m aware of that.  But when you can not organize the cluster of thoughts in your mind and you feel like you are in complete mental chaos all of the time, it’s a very defeated feeling.  Oh, how I envy the mentally stable.  How on earth does one accomplish that? Mental stability, I mean.  My kids give me a hard time because I love to watch all the shows on Investigate Discovery. Not because of the violence, but because of the psychological aspect. How does one go from an innocent baby to a murderer?  What happens?  What happened to them to make them that way?  Or did anything happen?  Are some of us just “wired” different….without a conscience, perhaps?  And if so, did God create them that way?  That doesn’t make sense either because God can’t create something evil. Can He?  These are the kind of thoughts that are bouncing around in my head all…..of…..the…..time.  It’s exhausting.

You know the old kid’s song “The Wheels On The Bus”?  “The wheels on the bus go ’round and ’round…..”? That song? Well, mine goes more like, “the demons in my head run to and fro, to and fro, to and fro. The demons in my head run to and fro ALL THROUGH THE DAY”. That’s what my thoughts feel like.  Little, or sometimes big, demons. Taunting. All day long. If I ever told anyone…anyone at all…the things that really go through my mind. The things I hear, the thoughts I have, I’m pretty sure nice people in white coats would come and take me to a little quiet room with no access to sharp objects, and there I would live out the rest of my days. And that would be it. I’m still trying to figure out how to make them go away without medicine.  The demons, I mean.  I have resorted to xanax the last couple of days, just to avoid a COMPLETE melt-down.  Oh, normal……where the heck are you? Do you even exist? Maybe this IS my normal.  That’s disturbing.