Finding My Normal

Oh, how I wish I could understand my own though process. Things are good….really good. I’ve had some really good things happen in the last few weeks. We’ve had good news, everyone is healthy, I had everyone together and had a blast last weekend. And I am completely miserable. Completely. The knot in my stomach never ever goes away. I am just laying in wait for something to go wrong. For something terrible to happen. For the moment to be ruined. My phone goes off and my heart starts to pound and my chest starts to burn and my mouth gets dry because I’m afraid it will be something bad. I do not know how to make this stop. It is so mentally and physically exhausting. I have no interest in anything except what absolutely has to be done. I’ve never been so tired. Oh, and I have a birthday coming up. Yippee. Just once I want to look back and think, “wow, what a great year” instead of looking back and thinking, “well, I got through that….glad it’s over”. I keep thinking I’ll wake up one morning and feel normal, but it never happens. I wake up the same lonely, terrified person every day. So since I can’t “talk it out” with anyone I just “type it out” here. It does help some, I guess. For the moment.

For about the last week and a half, I’ve been somewhere in between feeling great and  just not wanting to do this any more.  By “this”, I mean not wanting to do anything. I just want to sleep. And I’m so incredibly disappointed when I wake up. I have to force myself out of bed, force myself to go to work, just force myself to put one foot in front of the other. It’s so very hard. I joke about the ” bipolar” thing, but I was almost surprised when that was NOT my diagnosis. I am extreme either way. So happy I am almost giddy or so depressed I am almost nonfunctional.  Still struggling with whether or not to get back on all the medicine. But medicine only masks the problem, doesn’t it? It doesn’t change anything. Not really. I’m still struggling so much with the need to feel normal. I had a complete melt-down in Walmart parking  lot today, got myself straightened up enough to buy groceries, but was fighting tears walking out of the store, got groceries loaded and started bawling as soon as I got in the car. Geez. It is exhausting to be me. I do try to remember to be thankful. I’m thankful for a husband who loves me unconditionally. For three incredible sons. I’m not sure what I ever did right enough to deserve the blessing of being their mother. For the addition almost three and a half years ago of a precious daughter-in-law, who has been a blessing not only to my son, but to our entire family. For my middle son’s girlfriend who has also become a sweet addition to our family. For two silly dogs that I love more than I ever thought I could love animals. When I look at the big picture, I don’t even understand myself how I could ever be depressed. Why in the world would I be disappointed to wake up in the morning? Why in the world would I not look forward to, and embrace each and every day? No clue. I’m still trying to find that answer.

I thought the panic attacks were just about over.  Nope. Apparently they are not.  I woke up terrified this morning. Complete with shaking, feeling short of breath, chest burning, about to burst into tears, mind reeling, inability to focus, and upset stomach.  Miserable. And it has been going on all day long. This has become life again.  So, I am somewhat torn about whether or not to get back on all of the medicine.  I really DO NOT want to.  I don’t know what to do.  I can handle being miserable.  I’m used to it.  But I don’t want to make those around me miserable.  My family deserves better. If anyone had any idea what I hear in my mind all day long, my whole family would have me committed.  Even though my spiritual life is definitely NOT what it should be, or at least what it used to be, I do know that there is evil at work in our lives, too.  And it is always lurking around to attack.  My attacks are always mental.  The voice in the back of my mind telling me that everything that goes wrong is my fault, that I’m a terrible person, that everyone would probably be a lot better off if I were not a part of their lives, that I should just give up.  It’s a lot like living with someone who is constantly putting you down and making you feel worthless.  After a while, you start to believe it.  It becomes ingrained in your mind.  You think about it all day every day.  I’m just exhausted from it all. Tired of hiding the tears. Tired of swallowing the lump in my throat. Tired of the fake smile. So very tired. I try to think about the days that are TRULY good. Days (or sometimes just minutes) where I laugh….really laugh….and am happy.  I had one of those moments Sunday afternoon.  Laughing hysterically at the kids playing with the dogs.  Really, truly laughing. My little slice of “normal” for the day.  I treasure those moments. They are few and far between. It felt wonderful! For a little while.  Maybe someday those times will outweigh the others.

My mind feels like it is always in complete and total chaos.  All things considered, things really do seem to be going well, with the exception of a really horrible panic attack this last week….in public. Really bad. But I survived it and have been doing pretty well ever since. For the most part. I did cry a couple of times today but I managed to keep it to myself. I think so, at least. Sometimes I don’t know if no one notices if I cry or if they just don’t ask any more. Not that I could….or would….explain what made me cry even if they did ask. There are times that it is something specific that is bothering me, and there are times that I’m just overwhelmingly sad for no apparent reason. Or for lots of reasons. IF I had the money, and the time, I would probably try seeing a counselor again. Maybe a Christian counselor, since I’m still struggling so much in my spiritual walk. My relationship with God has been suffering since 2011. August of 2011 to be exact, and my life has not been the same since. So, I have got to figure out how to repair that relationship. My faith has really been tested and I have not done very well on the test. Pretty sure I failed it.  I need my relationship with God back because I’m pretty sure that He is the ONLY one who has the capability to understand me and help me calm the chaos.

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.