Thursday, August 27, 2015

This post is a downer, so read if you dare


Long time no blog.

I feel bad about this, but honestly, I don't want to feel bad anymore. About anything.

Unfortunately, I'm finding this very difficult.

Lately, most days my thoughts and emotions reach such a boiling point, all I can tell myself is "I cant do this anymore." I just can't. Can not.

But, I do. And it sucks balls. Sweaty balls. I'm so tired. I feel sick part of everyday. Thank goodness there seems to be an ebb and flow to this shit storm.

But, believe you me, when it is flowing...I just can't.

I am having so much pain right now. I've been rehabbing my shoulder for the last 3 weeks, and there has been no improvement. It actually feels worse. My neck, arm, hand and back are reeking havoc, too.

I actually thought about wrecking my car today. Just thought about it. No, I'm not suicidal. Just so full of yukkyness.

All I keep saying to myself is "It's not like you have cancer and are dying." Oh, the guilt I feel for feeling so shitty, How dare I?

I feel near hopeless and useless. If you could hear the battle in my head, you would have a migraine. Every day is such a battle.

"Keep moving forward." "This too shall pass." "Breathe." "Your feelings are not the truth." "Be quiet, mean voice. You are not the boss of me." "Push." "Persevere." "Pray." "Trust God." "Get up even though you don't want to." Etc, etc, etc....

I have to be the one to battle the bad voices. "Why can't you just get well, and stay well." "If only you would stay on a schedule." "You are lazy." "You selfish girl." "You must want people to feel sorry for you." "I have no friends." "No one understands me." "You are ungrateful." "You are always having a pity party." "You are not worth it." "I hate everyone." "I just need to move away." "Leave me alone." "Why aren't you paying attention to me."

Okay, you can see how the negative paragraph is easier to write. That seems to be human nature to be quick to remember the negatives.

I don't even know what I am saying right now. I didn't even want to write this. But somewhere, down deep, I figured I owed it to myself to write this down...this...whatever "this" is.

I'm sorry I am such a downer right now. I feel like I've overstayed my welcome, and I just need to go somewhere and keep my mouth shut. No one likes a whiner. Wine, yes. Whiner, no.

Blah, blah, blah...I'm sick of thinking about this anymore. I'm going to bed and, yet again, hope tomorrow shines brighter in the dark recesses of my mind.

Okay, bye. For now.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Don't cry, baby. Don't cry.


I have had hours, or so, of almost having a breakdown. Not every day. But, a lot of days.

Such despair.
Such sadness.
Overwhelming overwhelm-ness.
Anger. A lot of anger.

Just when I think these feelings won't ever go away...they at least lesssen. Talking sense into myself is exhausting. I get so mentally fatigued. I am so pissed. This is not helpful, because it makes me judge myself, and not like myself. Which keeps the shitty cycle going. Have I mentioned this is not helpful?

I think, how can keep digging my nails into the cliff to keep from falling into the abyss? Honestly, I don't know. I just do. I must. I could choose not to...but that is scary as hell.

We (my husband and I) are in a precarious financial situation. We are trusting God for His provision, and He never let's us down. I am human (the fact that I just wrote that makes me chuckle.) This means I still default to worry. Before I quit my job in April, I had been agonizing over what other type of job I could do to replace that income. I came up with nada. My health was suffering over the stress though, and I had to quit without a plan.

I have been freed up to follow my art dreams. Yay!!

This sounds easy, but it's not. Well, not exactly. I was letting myself get depressed, which lead to no painting. Counter productive to say the least. I talk too much to myself in my head, and it turns into a very bad neighborhood pretty quickly. I should never venture there alone too long.

Do I get a part time job so there is money coming in that we can count on? But, that question puts me right back to where I started. What would I do??????

I worked at a job that didn't love for 16 and a half years. I quit when my second child was born. Then, 2 years later,  my third was born. About a year later, I started to battle against mental health issues. I was unable to work even if I wanted to. I had three children by this time, and I was...well, not in a very good place for a long time.

I started my holiday window painting in 1997, and that was my source of income. It was manageable, because it was flexible. I have had four part time jobs in the last four years which has been quite an accomplishment, because I never thought I could work a "real" job again.

Going back to my stresses of late...where will the money come from? I am never guaranteed of income. Get a "real" job? ...ugh!

I had a dream last night. I thought about going back to the company I worked for 18 years ago. I cried and cried and cried. I thought about going back to another job I had, but there was so too much "stuff" there that was not healthy to go back to. I cried and cried and cried. Then a voice spoke very loud to me..."just fucking paint!! Just do it. This is what you want. This is what makes you happy. This, despite any stress, is worth it! It's right in front of you. Just fucking paint!!"

I woke convicted.
I woke up revived.
I woke up to my purpose.

I worked on sketches for commissioned work. Duh. I had been dragging feet.

I worked on some new paintings that I had been asked to do. A client wants to hang them in her shop to sell. Duh.

I tend to create such a war in my head, and I get so exhausted.

I'd like to say that I will quit doing this, but it is always lurking. This is why I'm grateful that I will always keep my nails dug in.

I didn't cry today. I did some things that kept me living my dream. I moved forward. Slowly, but I still moved forward.

Yay, me!!


Thursday, August 6, 2015

I need a band-aid (PG-13)



Damn Damn Damn
Fuck Fuck Fuck

That always relieves some stress. I tried to write this post yesterday, but I was in such a bad place I just couldn't muster the energy.

Today has been slightly better, because I ended the day with a paint party with 11 and 12 year old girls. As much stress I had getting ready for it, it was more than worth it. This is a job that is worth the stress. I was told every job would have stress, and I've always said I want the job to be worth it. Painting and painting with other people is my gift and passion.

All of that said, I must admit I walk around my house and ask myself "what am I doing?" I need to make money (most people do.) It is hard work being all the employees in my business, and gets quite exhausting at times.

My moods are not reliable. Oh, I am more aware of triggers, but sometimes too many come at once. Or my chemicals are not functioning properly, and just one trigger can knock me down.

Having bipolar is awful. Well, the depressive swings suck big balls, but the hypomanic episodes help me forget those times (or least give me hope.) Being on the other side of the bridge is a great feeling, and to look back on the depressive times look foggy from across the river. I have done a lot of work. I've worked on past issues. I have been counseled in cognitive behavioral. I take my medicine faithfully.

Despite all of this, the disorder is the disorder. I am functioning better than if I was not doing all of the afore mention things.

I'm tired of being disappointed in myself. I have accepted that I have to talk medication for the rest of my life, but I still keep hoping the next time I am doing so well that it will stay. That maybe I've finally reached the point of control. I've done the work, and now I will be better. I realize the best I can really hope for is remissions.

I will acknowledge that my depressive episodes are way less than they used to be. I decided a long time ago that I wanted to live. So, the only choice I have is to keep on keeping on.

I wish I could wrap this up in a nice little bow, but I can not. I do chose to continue to share, because the struggle is real and I may help someone with my honesty, even if that person is myself.

If you've made it to the end of this post, thanks for hanging in with me(: